The Confessional
"Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It has been three years since my last confession."
"Go on, my son."
"Father, I came here today to confess..." He took a deep breath, pausing. "A sin of the flesh."
"My son, if you are concerned about self-abuse --"
"No, father! This is a much more serious sin than that. Father, I am ... Father, I'm a homosexual."
The priest sighed, and said quietly, "My son, there is love for you in God's eyes and in mine. You need not feel you are a sinner because you are a homosexual. While the Church officially states that --"
"Father, you don't understand!" the man burst out. Speaking rapidly, he continued. "Father, what I've done, there's no way it couldn't be a sin. And I haven't been to Mass in the longest time, but that's not what worries me... I'm afraid because what I've done, it's so out there... it couldn't be possible for it not to be a sin, you just gotta hear this, cuz I gotta tell someone..."
When he stopped to breathe, the priest said quietly, "My son, the secrecy of the confessional is such that I can never repeat this to any living soul. If you must purge your guilt, go ahead and tell me what you must. You cannot shock me and no sin is unforgiveable."
"Father... if you insist..."
"Go ahead, my son."
"Well, I better start at the beginning, then. I knew I was gay real young, right? But I knew that I wasn't normal gay... I knew I was all kinky and shit, cuz I used to have some weird ass fantasies. I would picture myself pissing on other guys, and them pissing on me. And us drinking each other's piss, and shit like that.
"Well, the first time I got up the nerve to ask my boyfriend about it was about ten years ago, and he got real quiet and I could tell he didn't like the idea. So I had to pretend like it was all just a joke, a fantasy that I wasn't serious about carrying out. But I could tell he knew I was lying... and he left me shortly after that. And the idea turned me on even more.
"I started hanging around the gay bars a lot then, I had heard that there was a yellow hanky you were supposed to wear if you wanted to do this sort of thing but I didn't know what pocket I was supposed to wear it in or anything, I guess I was pretty naive.
"I finally figured out that I should wear it in the right pocket, because I wanted to bottom at first... somehow, the idea of another guy pissing on me and making me drink his piss turned me on more than the idea of doing it to someone else. And it worked... the second night I had the hanky on, I had a guy come up to me, take the hanky out of my pocket, and stick it on the bar.
"'Can I buy you a drink?' he asked, playing with the hanky.
"'S-sure,' I said, sort of nervous. He bought a couple of beers and grabbed them, motioning with his head for me to follow him. We managed to find an empty booth and sat down, and then he slid one of the beers over to me.
"'So, tell me, do you come here often?' he asked me. I shook my head and took a sip of my beer. Before I could say anything else, he drained his beer and reached over, took my beer, and drained that one too. After a healthy belch, he grinned at me. 'I'm gonna need to piss pretty soon,' he told me.
"I've got to admit, while I was shocked at how forward he was, just hearing him say the word 'piss' had an enormous effect on me. My dick was hard and I could feel the precum oozing out. He reached over, grabbed my hand, and pulled me towards the bathroom. My heart was pounding something fierce and I knew that through my tight jeans, my throbbing cock was clearly visible.
"As we got into the bathroom, this guy didn't say anything. He just opened up a stall, shoved me in, and closed the door behind him. I sat down on the toilet, more out of nervousness than anything else I suppose, and he unzipped his fly and dropped his pants. I could see his thick, meaty cock with the veins throbbing and pulsing... his cock was about 8 inches long and I started drooling right away. He didn't even say anything, but just took hold of the back of my head and slipped my mouth over his dick. I started sucking, and I could feel it twitching.
"Suddenly, my mouth was being filled with his piss! It was hot and salty and making me gag, and I knew I had to swallow or I'd drown in the stuff... so I started sucking it down, and the faster he would piss, the more eagerly I started drinking. I couldn't get enough of the stuff! His recycled beer tasted better to me than anything I could remember... After he was done, I kept sucking, not wanting to miss a drop. And before too long, his cock shuddered again and I could feel my mouth being filled with something else. I sucked that down, too, and realized my pants were soaking wet. I had come without touching myself.
"He stood up and zipped his fly back up and then left, without saying another word. And you know, I never saw that guy again."
He paused, unable to continue. "Go on, my son," the priest said hoarsely. "You've got to tell me everything."
"Well, that was just the first time. And after that I would do it every weekend. Sometimes I'd stick the hanky in my right pocket and sometimes in my left, and sometimes I'd just patrol the bathroom and find some drunk guy and drink his piss for him. I even started patrolling the bathrooms at straight bars, waiting until a guy came in totally blitzed and then I'd act fast. I'd take him to a stall, unzip his pants, and get him to start pissing. I'd love to get my face wet with the stuff before I started to drink.
"After a while though, it got boring, and I realized that the bar atmosphere wasn't for me so I started thinking up other ways to get my fix. Finally, last Saturday, I had it.
"I went to the bar again, and this time I found a guy who had the hanky in his right pocket. I asked him if he'd like to come home with me and he said yes. So we went back to my place and went straight to the bathroom. I had put candles in there and the effect was eerie, shadows being thrown off the walls and the mirrors and everything. I had had a LOT to drink, not only beer, but a six pack of Coke and a Thermos full of coffee, so I was ready to piss my brains out. I told this guy to get into the tub.
"'Don't you want me to get undressed first?' he asked me, and I just shook my head. He got in the tub and I stripped completely naked and then got in there with him. My cock was hard and I was hornier than anything... All I could think about was pissing, and that turned me on even more. I stood there for a minute, kissing this guy and then without warning I just started pissing on him. My bladder was so full that I got his pants soaked before I guided him down on his knees and shoved my cock in his mouth. I must have pissed for at least a minute into his mouth, and this guy was taking it all, sucking harder than I usually do, and it was like he wasn't even swallowing... like his throat was just open all the way. As I finished pissing, he started to suck me but I didn't want to let him.
"I stood him up and practically ripped his pants open, getting his cock into my mouth just as he started pissing down my throat. The beer he had drunk plus my piss had gone right through him and it was intense, knowing that I was one step away from drinking my own piss. I finished him off and then I stood up again and got him back on his knees. As soon as he was down there, I had to piss again and I put it right down his throat.
"We did that, off and on, for about two hours... by the end of that time, the piss we had been trading had diffused down to about half a cup... And we were both so hard that it was unbearable. Neither of us had come yet. I went down on my knees and deep throated him, feeling him shudder as he shot great big wads of cum down my throat. Quickly, we traded places and I shoved my cock down his throat, managing to get it all in his mouth just before I came.
"He left soon after that, his clothes still wet and smelling of our piss." He bowed his head and said quietly, "Father, I know that has got to be a sin."
"My son," the priest said, in almost a whisper, "you may go. Your sins are forgiven. There is no penance." The priest did not find it necessary to tell the man that he had been the man on Saturday night. Or that his robes were now soaked with his own cum.
COPYRIGHT 1998, Rob Keenan