A gay story: Sentenced to the Church Youth Group A tale about Jimmy, a teenager in West Albany, New York circa 1977…
****
After barely graduating high school in 1977, I was finally beginning to learn why paying attention in school might have been a good idea, because I had been unable to gain admittance to either of the 2 local community colleges because of my poor grades.
That was embarrassing, especially since I don’t think that Hudson Valley had ever rejected an application before mine, although that was likely just a rumor or a story concocted by a friend who wanted to rub it in.
I did gain admittance the following year and went on to graduate with respectable grades, so things worked out in the end, but the year that passed after high school was brutal around my house, not that I didn’t deserve it in retrospect.
Looking back, I was not nearly as cool as I thought I was. I was a dumpy guy who unwisely took as much pride in my body as I did in my schoolwork. Not morbidly obese but plump, and added on to that I had a wise-ass remark for just about everything made me the kind of guy people find easy to dislike.
One thing I did find out early was that girls didn’t find me all that appealing, and that would have made me a lonely guy were it not for the ride some anonymous man gave me one night as the library closed. He found me appealing for some reason, and when he suggested I do something to him to thank him for the ride and I told him I didn’t know how, he showed me.
Up until then I was so naive sexually that I thought blow jobs meant you actually had somebody blow on your dick, but that man set me straight. Furthermore, I learned that I liked it, and I liked giving them more than receiving them. That way I didn’t have to contend with the shame of my chubby body and my equally fat but short dick.
That willingness to please others made me more popular than I had been, and even though I knew I was being used, it was a lot better than sitting home pouting and eating. My slovenly ways were annoying to my parents though, and when we got new neighbors next door, I paid the price.
Their names were Bruce and Grace Temple, and I paid them no mind when they had moved in many months ago, hardly noticing them except that they had to be the whitest white people imaginable. They were in their late 20’s I supposed and had no kids, but they did have one passion that they somehow infected my mother with.
Upon moving in the neighborhood, the couple got in tight with the local church right away, and they talked the priest into starting a youth group because they were concerned that young people were losing their way with all the long hair, the foul language and the pot smoking. The St. Francis Youth Group would seek to change that.
My parents, my mother to be specific, must have had a talk with our new neighbor Grace Temple, because after watching me sit around the house for a while without having a job bite me in the ass, Mom told me how it was going to be.
“You need direction Jimmy,” Mom explained. “You need somebody to set you on the right path, because it’s clear I’m not able to do it, and neither is Dad. That’s why I want you to join this Youth Group down at the church.”
I remember brushing that off with disdain, and I think my mother started to cry a little at that point, saying what a failure they were as parents, and while that worked a lot of the time with me, this time I didn’t budge.
Sit in a church basement a couple nights a week with a bunch of nerds? Listening to our next door neighbors play missionaries, preaching against everything I liked? I had better things to do with my time, although blasting music through my headphones and masturbating a lot was not all that productive either.
“Besides,” I said using my bizarre brand of logic in a vain attempt to make this not happen. “It’s a Catholic church and their name is Temple. It’s probably some ruse to convert people to Judaism or something.”
“Nonsense. Grace assured me it’s non-denominational,” Mom replied.
“Tens and twenties are preferred I bet,” was my rebuttal.
“We are paying for it, so all you have to do is go.”
“Waste of money,” I responded, surprised that I had guessed correctly the youth group was a business operation.
Frustrated, Mom tried another tactic. I could join that group, or I could move out on my own, and she said the old man was backing her up on this one. With no job I obviously couldn’t live on my own, and while I wasn’t positive that they would actually throw me out, there was something about the way she talked that had me believing it.
I agreed to it, even though the prospect of spending an hour or so one night a week down there in the basement of the church pissed me off.
“Not one night. They meet 3 nights a week,” I was informed. “And they meet from 7 to 9.”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath when I heard that, and I didn’t mutter very subtly either because Mom heard it.
“That’s why you need this. You always have to have the last word, and that combined with your foul mouth…”
*****
The first night I went down there, I arrived with an attitude and kept my mouth shut while my eyes glazed over listening to Bruce Temple give a kind of pep talk and then tell about this singing group he wanted to start.
“Sort of like ‘Up With People’ but on a local level,” Grace Temple chimed in as her husband handed out sheets of paper that had lyrics of a song on it. “Let’s give it try. I’ll bet we sound great!”
The Temples were both animated people in the church basement, unlike when I would see them next door where they seemed cold and robotic, and as I looked at this chalky couple I had a revelation of my own.
“You take away his reddish brown hair, put a white wig on him and this guy could pass for Johnny Winter,” I suggested to a guy sitting next to me who looked as happy to be there as I was, and he broke out laughing at that, causing people to turn to look back at us.
“Give her a wig and she could be Edgar Winter,” he countered as the signing started, drowning out my laugh.
It was a dreadful song sung by the most off-key collection of nerds imaginable, but after it ended Grace and Bruce Temple were excited because to them it sounded divine, and they pictured us going to old folks homes to cheer them up, or maybe roam the halls of the local hospital to brighten spirits.
“Bad enough being stuck in a hospital, but listening to this shit would have half of them jumping out the window,” I opined to my acquaintance, who thought I was a riot and introduced himself as Nate.
That was the only night that Nate went there, but he helped make the night bearable and after the meeting broke up and we filed outside he said it was cool meeting me but he wouldn’t be returning. I thanked him and told him I wanted to give him something to remember me by.
I brought Nate around the back of the building to a little dark alcove where I went down to my knees, pulled down his pants and gave him head. Nate didn’t last long and his dick was actually smaller than mine, something I wasn’t used to, but it was the highlight of the night for me.
“How was the Youth Group?” Mom asked when I got home.
“Alright.”
“Great!” Mom chirped, so eager to hear what I didn’t say that she elaborated on that one word answer. “I told Dad that when you got back you’d say, ‘I’m glad I came!’ I’m proud of you Jimmy.”
I didn’t say I was happy I came, but I had cum, getting myself off as I sucked Nate’s cock, but I didn’t explain that to Mom, choosing to go upstairs and listen to some Johnny Winter instead.
*****
My next visit to the Youth Group was more of the same. We sang that song again and we may have been even worse that time, and there was some talk about selling candy bars to raise money for something, followed by a speech by Bruce Temple about keeping your moral compass focused and being judged by your actions while seeming to be looking a lot at me.
I thought that might have been my imagination, but I was to find out after the meeting that I was not wrong about Mr. Temple looking at me and it was indeed my morals he was concerned about.
Mr. Temple grabbed me as I was filing out with the rest of the sheep, and after telling his wife that he was going to walk home with me instead of riding with her, I got a sinking feeling in my gut.
After he asked me how I was enjoying Youth Group so far, and after I lied and told him it was alright, he got to the point albeit in a meandering serpentine way that took most of the half mile walk.
“I was informed by someone who shall remain nameless Jimmy,” he said as he stopped me under a streetlight so he could make eye contact with me, “that you were seen pleasuring a fellow group member out back after the last meeting.”
“Pleasuring?” I asked, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it, but he denied me that pleasure.
“That’s all I was told, but the person was certain that he saw you give a young fellow pleasure.”
“Was that wrong?” I asked as innocently as I could manage. “I didn’t get a list of rules or anything.”
“I think some things should go without saying,” Bruce replied, looking uncomfortable enough to make me suspect that his wife made him have this talk with me.
“Well Mr. Temple, to be honest with you, I talked with a particular young fellow during and after the meeting, and after he expressed to me that he wasn’t planning on coming back to the next meeting, I tried to persuade him not to quit,” I declared, and with a straight face too which speaks of what a wise-ass kid I really was back then.
“Nate – I know the person you were with – now he didn’t come back tonight, did he?” Mr. Temple asked.
“No. I guess I failed,” I admitted.
“I spoke to Nate’s parole officer and he told me he wouldn’t be coming back because he violated his parole.”
“Oh. A convict,” I mumbled, adding that title to the growing list of people I had “pleasured” in Mr. Temple’s words, and then in order to divert this chat I had a idea. “You know, if we ever get this singing group together, it might be cool to go to the county jail and cheer them up. Maybe Nate would be there.”
“Excellent idea Jimmy,” Bruce chirped in recognition of my idiotic idea, but the temporary diversion didn’t take and as we neared our houses he got back on track.
“Whatever you did to that young man, don’t you realize that it’s just a shallow attempt to fill a void in your heart?”
“I don’t know. Nate seemed to like it and I not only enjoy giving head, I think I do it well,” I explained.
“Head? A head of what?” Bruce Temple actually said.
“Head. Sucking cock. Putting a dick in your mouth.”
“Oh my,” Bruce exclaimed while shivering like somebody dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt. “That’s sinful.”
“Is it just a sin when a guy does it?” I challenged. “It’s not a sin when your wife does it to you though?”
“No – I – my wife?” Mr. Temple almost yelled. “My wife would never do such a thing.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, suspecting that this guy might be playing with my head like I was his, but the look on his face suggested he was both very serious and very ignorant. “You should ask her for it.”
“My wife? The woman I adore? The future mother of our children if we are so blessed? I could never ask her to do that.”
“Oh. Too bad because you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Well – er- I- uh – never jumped off of the roof of a skyscraper but I don’t really want to know what I’m missing with that,” he offered in weak rebuttal.
“Not the same Mr. Temple, although if somebody gives you great head, it might give you the same rush as that,” I suggested. “Without the messy splat on the ground.”
“If you want, I’d be glad to let you know what you’ve been missing all these years,” I offered, knowing what he would say and loving the way he was twitching and sweating.
“My word. That’s the kind of thing that dock workers and ladies of the night and degenerate opium addicts take pleasure in,” Mr. Temple babbled before catching himself. “Forgive me. What I said was wrong and I should not pass judgement on others. After all, when you point a finger at someone, the rest get pointed at yourself.”
“Grace will wonder if I got lost,” Bruce said as he sensed he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Perhaps we can discuss this at a future time Jimmy?”
“Sure,” I answered, and as I went in the house I was feeling confident that I wouldn’t be welcome at the Youth Group any more after that.
Wrong again.
****
“Jimmy!”
I had just taken the garbage out and was planning to duck back in the house when I heard my name being called, and I recognized the less than masculine voice as being Bruce Temple’s. The smart thing would have been to pretend I didn’t hear but by reflex I looked up to see Mr. Temple waving at me to come over.
Expecting either a reminder that the group meeting was the following evening or much better yet, a request not to go to the Youth Group meetings any more, what I got was an arm around the shoulder and another pep talk as I got herded into the house through the patio.
All the split levels in our neighborhood were the same, but the downstairs that we used as a family room was pretty empty here with only a couch, a lamp and religious pictures on the walls, probably because they were still in the process of getting settled in.
I got the reminder about the next night’s meeting, and then as he sat me down on the couch he made a request of me.
“I need to ask you to please not do that thing – you know – what we talked about – to any of the other members of the group,” he requested, and since most of those geeks ignored me anyway because I didn’t join in much, that was no problem.
“Fine.”
“Since we spoke the other evening, I tried to do a little research…”
“Oh, did you ask Mrs. Temple if she would…”
“No no no!” he interrupted. “I did not, and may I ask you to please never mention anything like that to her because she has lived a very sheltered life,” I was told, and just as I was thinking that he must have too, he said that very same thing.
“I’m not “hip” to many modern things,” Mr. Temple confessed, using his fingers to make quotation marks around the word hip. “You probably realize that already, but I did ask a trusted member of my circle about what you were talking about, and he said that what you said you enjoyed doing is done a lot these days.”
“Giving head?” I acted with a smirk, getting a shiver and a nod in return.
Back then there was no Internet or any easily obtained material on sex, so a little of his ignorance was understandable I suppose, but how you could live 28 years and not at least know about things boggled my mind.
“What you spoke about,” he started up again. “It sounds decadent but when I spoke to my friend he says that his wife performs – what was that word he used? – fellatio – on him quite often.”
“What does he do afterwards? Go to confession with his wife?” I asked cryptically.
“I didn’t ask but my curiosity was piqued.”
“Enough to ask your wife for some?”
“No. Please stop mentioning Grace. I feel guilty enough talking about this to you as it is. She’s down at the church thrift shop working today,” I was told. “Anyway, when we spoke the other day you mentioned something.”
“We talked about a lot of things.”
“Yes we did, but this thing in particular – and please, this conversation is not talking place. We never discussed this and my wife and your parents must not know we spoke like this.”
“I understand,” I assured him as his fidgeting and twitching drove me mad.
“You made an offer, as I recall.”
“To suck your cock?”
“Yes,” he shuddered. “Were you serious?”
“Sure,” I answered. “Why not?”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what to do though,” he said while wringing his hands.
“You don’t do anything except enjoy it,” I answered, and I have to be honest and admit that the idea of being the first guy to suck this guy’s cock turned me on a little.
“Now wait Jimmy. Besides this being just between us, I want to make it clear that I don’t want this to – how do I say this? I don’t want this act to culminate in my…”
“You don’t want to cum? To orgasm?”
“Exactly,” Mr. Temple said. “I merely want to experience what’s involved so I can better understand it. I’m rather embarrassed by my ignorance and question how I can counsel others if I’m like that.”
“Fine.”
“What do I do?”
“Stand up,” I instructed, and after he got to his feet I knelt in front of him and started to undo his belt.
Mr. Temple was shifting his weight from foot to foot as I undid his slacks, and then they went down easily, exposing legs that were the same chalky white as the rest of him and were virtually hairless.
After almost falling trying to step out of his trousers, I was facing Bruce Temple in his boxer shorts, breathing heavily enough for me to hear as his knees knocked.
“Wait,” Mr. Temple said when I reached up for the elastic of his boxers, and it was an odd sight with me ready to take the underwear down while the wanna-be reverend was holding them up with both hands. “This is going so fast my head is spinning. Give me a second.”
I nodded and gave him a whole bunch of seconds as I looked over to the wall and saw this picture of one set of footprints in the sand, but when I brought my hands up again I got a little sermon instead.
“This is – I must confess I’m a very modest man,” he told me.
“It’s okay. Just pretend that I’m your doctor,” I suggested, but that was not the answer.
“I don’t go to doctors, and I know that’s wrong. It’s just that I’m…”
“Modest,” I said in finishing the sentence for him. “I know. So am I.”
That was true because I had major body image problems myself back then, and not without reason. I had boy boobs that were as big as my mother’s and was blessed with a squat toadstool for a dick, much of it hidden under the pillow of fat about it, so I knew how he felt.
“Going to be impossible to do this with your shorts on,” I finally said as my knees started to get sore from kneeling.
“Alright,” Mr. Temple said as he finally let go, allowing me to at last tug the boxers down, and when they cleared his stuff I was stuck trying to figure out why this guy was shy because Mr. Temple was pretty well hung.
Granted that the dick that hung underneath a soap pad-sized tuft of curls was not very thick but the slender tube was rather long and dangled down below a pair of good sized nuts in a wrinkled hairless pouch.
“Geeeez,” I heard myself say, calling an audible so I didn’t get caught using his name in vein, but I don’t think Mr. Temple heard me because he was staring straight ahead and biting his shirt.
I grabbed his dick, causing him to gasp and jump, and after giving the soft organ a couple of downward tugs I knew that he was not going to get much bigger when I got him hard, but considering what he started out with that didn’t matter.
There was a fat vein wandering down the top of the shaft that disappeared just before the mushroom head of his circumcised cock, and I could feel it pulsing in my fist as I raised it up.
“Mr. Temple? Didn’t you want to see this?” I asked while looking upwards, and after he took his shirt out of his mouth he looked down at me, and I kept looking at him as I put his dick in my mouth.
“Oh!”
The word came out in multiple syllables as I moved my lips downward, his member getting stiffer every second as my mouth moved down until his pubes were tickling my nose, and then I let my lips slide back up to the tip where I had my tongue flicking the tender opening until I spoke.
“Okay?” I asked as I held the saliva coated missile, inquiring not only of his well being but whether he wanted me to stop, but all I got was a sweating and red-faced man breathing like a locomotive so instead of pressing more an answer I repeated my affection, taking his now fully erect dick into my mouth, poking my throat in the process.
Up and down I went at the same leisurely pace, savoring what I had to admit was the greatest cock I had ever sucked while Mr. Temple kept uttering gibberish, almost like he was speaking in tongues, and I could have kept doing this all day but Mr. Temple had enough.
“IT’S HAPPENING!” he yelled, not referring to the rapture or some kind of miracle but announcing that he was cumming.
The pledge of not wanting to have the act completed was long ago forgotten, and as he let out a sound like he had been punched in the gut a jet of semen hit the back of my throat.
Blessed with an ability – or whatever you call the lack of a gag reflex – I kept moving my mouth up and down while he drilled the roof of my mouth and throat with machine gun-like fury, and just when I thought it was over he moaned and spurted a few more times.
During this, I strained to keep the skinny guy in place because Bruce was squirming and bouncing, but when he finally stopped cumming I let go of his hips, and that had Mr. Temple falling back into the couch.
“My word,” he gasped as he sprawled on his couch as he had fallen, mouth wide open and in a state of shock, but he recovered in a minute, covering his jewels with his hands to prove he was his old self.
“Well?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” He said earnestly. “That was not my intention, I swear.”
“Might not have been yours but it was mine,” I replied as I got up from my knees.
“When I – you know – what happened to my – seed?”
“I swallowed it,” I responded, making his mouth open wider.
“You do that?”
“Sure. No mess that way.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“No, most times it’s pretty good. Your cum tasted better than most, and I love the way a guy just erupts in my mouth.”
“Fascinating.”
“Just one of the things that makes it good for me. I love to have the power for once. When I’m sucking a guy’s cock I’m not the fat kid who gets picked last for games or gets made fun of, I’m the guy who’s making them excited. The throbbing of the dick in my mouth while the balls hit my chin? I love it all.”
“More than you wanted to hear I think,” I suggested.
“No, not at all. The coarseness of the language isn’t something I am used to but I did express an interest to know what it was all about.”
“And now you know,” I answered, and before I left I felt I had to ask. “The way you were acting? It was like you never had an orgasm before.”
“Not like that,” Bruce said as he put his shorts back on.
“You must have masturbated before.”
“Yes. I’ve been weak in the past, but the sensation was not like that. I felt that from my toes on up.”
“Glad you liked it,” I said as I left, but Mr. Temple stopped me to shake my hand and thank me again before letting me leave.
“Weird,” I sighed as I went home, needing to relieve myself of a lot of pressure that had built up during my visit.
****
That night after returning home from a friend’s house, I was reaching for the door when I heard a sound, and when I paused I heard it again.
“Psst!”
I looked next door and saw Mr. Temple out on his patio, wearing his pajamas and waving at me, so I went over to see what he wanted.
“I – uh – just wanted to thank you for this afternoon,” Bruce stammered as he looked back at his darkened house. “It was not only enlightening it was…”
“Fun?”
“Yes, I admit it. I enjoyed it, probably more than a man should savor pleasures of the flesh,” Mr. Temple declared. “Frankly, I’ve thought of nothing else since this afternoon.”
“Good, but there’s no such thing as enjoying it too much,” I suggested.
“Perhaps, but all of that thinking got me rather – stimulated. When Grace and I turned in – well, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this Jimmy.”
“Think again,” I replied, because all I was going to do home was watch TV. “I need to learn things too.”
“Okay. So when we went to bed, I suggested to Grace that we -”
“Fuck?” I asked, enjoying the cringe before adding, “Make love?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t want to,” Bruce Temple confided. “Grace seldom does.”
“That’s too bad,” I commiserated. “I guess some women don’t like it too much.”
“Really?” Bruce asked hopefully. “Does your mother? Oh my. What am I saying?”
“No, that’s okay. Mom likes it a lot, judging by all the noise she makes a couple times a week when Dad bones her.”
“Grace says it hurts when I – make love with her,” Bruce confessed.
“Maybe you’re a bit rough.”
“I try to control myself, but once I enter her I think I lose control,” Mr. Temple admitted.
“There’s your problem,” I declared before pontificating like I actually knew something about having sex with a woman. “You should take it easy on her, especially at first because you’re so well hung.”
“Well hung?” he asked with a quizzical look that I could see even in the moonlight. “What is that in reference to?”
“You’ve got,” I started to explain like a normal person would before cleaning it up for his benefit. “You have a very large penis. Not so much in thickness but in length. You must be 8 or 9 inches hard.”
“I do? Is that good?” he asked, causing me to laugh. “I never looked at other fellows even back in the locker room at school.”
“Trust me, it’s not a bad thing and I would trade with you in a minute,” I told him. “You’re way bigger than I am.”
“Really? But you’re such a big strapping young fellow?”
“Doesn’t work that way.” I lamented. “Anyway, the only thing that really matters is that it works, and I know from experience that your equipment works fine.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Temple replied, and then he started fidgeting again, looking around and back at the house like he had something to say. “And you said that you enjoyed it today?”
“As much as you did,” I suggested, and thinking I knew what was on his mind I asked, “Do you have something you want to ask of me?”
“Well,” he started out with, and after a bunch of mumbling that reminded me of when I was a kid and was pressed for an answer he finally asked, “I was wondering whether you would want to – you know you don’t have to – but if you wanted to?”
“Say it,” I challenged. “And don’t hem and haw or babble with fancy words. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I would very much want you to suck my penis again,” he declared while looked over my head at the heavens.
“I would have preferred you used the word cock,” I informed him as I moved over to his picnic table and sat down, not wanting to kneel on the cold ground, but before I began I warned him in a hushed voice. “Look, you can’t go babbling and yelling like you did before or else we’ll both get killed.”
Mr. Temple nodded and promptly pulled his pajama top up and stuffed some in his mouth, at which point I pulled his pajamas down and almost got slapped in the face when his erection sprang up after being released.
“You’re already hard,” I whispered as I took his throbbing tool in my hand, and without further delay I swallowed him whole.
Mr. Temple didn’t last much longer than he had earlier that day, but my hand introducing itself to his dangling nut sack probably made him cum quicker, and although he made noises out his nose he kept quiet as he hosed down my throat with another prodigious load.
“Thank you,” I said as he yanked his PJ’s up.
“You don’t have to say that,” I reminded him, and after another handshake I offered him advice. “The next time you two do it, remember to be gentle. Not too hard and not too deep, although I wouldn’t mind finding out what all of you felt like inside me.”
“Pardon?” he asked, and I realized that I had just said something that I had only thought about ever since I first saw his cock.
I wasn’t all that crazy about being taken anally, having only experienced it once and that one time being a painful nightmare, but Bruce Temple’s sleek slender probe seemed to be designed for anal if I was ever going to try it again.
“Nothing,” I concluded, deciding to save that conversation for another time.
***
The next night at the Youth Group meeting as we sang that damn song once again, with each succeeding effort sounding worse to my ears, I looked at the group leaders through different eyes.
For someone who pictured himself a counselor, Bruce was one naive and confused guy. The amateur psychologist in me said that he was at the very least bisexual because he enjoyed my affection too much to be straight.
Grace Temple was tougher to figure. A very plain and mousy woman who looked sullen and unhappy whenever she wasn’t preaching, she seemed to pretty much live only to try and make her flock as unhappy as she seemed to be.
I tried to imagine her getting undressed in their bedroom with Bruce staring at her and wanting her so badly. Grace was skinny and wore baggy blouses that hid (to less curious eyes than mine) that she was either flat-chested or real close.
Picturing Bruce mounting her, in the missionary position no doubt, with that long spear of his in hand and pushing it into Grace’s pussy to the hilt while the poor lady likely felt like it was going to come out her back, was scary and erotic.
After the meeting and after we all got home, for the heck of it I decided to step out back to get a breath of fresh air, something I did at night even when I was just wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and who did I see looking over at my house in his pajamas?”
“Hi,” I whispered as I stumbled over in the murky darkness. “You look like you were about to throw pebbles at my bedroom window.”
“No,” Bruce chuckled. “I was just thinking.”
“And I don’t have to be The Amazing Kreskin to read your mind,” I assured him, not surprised when he wasn’t familiar with the popular mentalist who seemed to be on The Tonight Show every week, but he knew enough to take me to the picnic table.
Bruce took longer to cum this time, allowing me to not only get a chance to show the guy that there were many techniques I knew to make it good for him, but also to allow me to jerk myself off while I gave him head.
That was something I did quite often, kneeling and sucking while reaching into my briefs to play with my dick, and I came before Mr. Temple did, making a mess in my boxers before he shot in my mouth.
“Thank you,” Bruce said as he always did. “You know, I was just curious. I get pleasure, but other than providing pleasure for me, what do you get out of it?”
“Isn’t the purpose of life making others happy?” I suggested, throwing some of his babble back at him before questioning him. “Why do you ask? Are you saying you want to give me head?”
“Heavens no!” he exclaimed, wincing and looking at his bedroom when he realized how loud he had spoken. “It’s just that, ever since you were talking about your body, I was just wondering what another man looked like. Aroused I mean.”
“Well, like I said I’m nothing special,” I assured him, and since I was a mess down there there was no way I was going to show him my spent mushroom like this. “If you want the next time Mrs. Temple isn’t home I’ll come over and we can both get undressed.”
“Grace works at the Thrift Shop tomorrow,” Bruce said excitedly. “10 until 2, so if you want to?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next morning I got up early for me, and after taking a shower and drying off I took a look at myself naked. It was far from the first time I took inventory and to my dismay I still looked pretty bad.
Boy boobs and a belly that explained much of the extra 40 pounds I was carrying was depressing enough, but looking at my stubby dick peeking out of the forest never failed to bring me down. This was what Bruce wanted to see?
Like I had done a couple of times before, I grabbed a razor and with surgical skill shaved the hair from the base of my cock and around the perimeter, and after I was finished not only was I hard but now all of my assets were clear to see.
“That is one small dick,” I told the mirror as I pushed the fat around my tool in to make it look bigger, but when I stopped pushing in I was left with a fat dick not quite 5″ hard.
Still, I had an appointment with Bruce Temple, so after I got dressed I waited for Grace to go off to work, and after she left I hustled over.
“Good morning Jimmy,” Bruce said as he welcomed me still wearing his pajamas, apologizing for his appearance, but I shrugged it off.
“Whatever you were wearing was going to come off anyway, right?” I asked as he locked the door and took me through his house to what seemed to be a guest room, something he confirmed.
“We rarely have guests, but I think you deserve better than being in an unfinished family room on on a picnic table,” he told me while acting excited. “Do you want me to undress you?”
“If you want,” I told him, and Bruce reached for the bottom of my t-shirt, pulling it up quickly and tossing it aside while looking at my doughy body.
“My, you’re a hairy fellow, aren’t you?” Bruce declared, nodding at the tiny cluster of hairs that had started to grow in the center of my chest. “I already knew you had very hairy legs from you wearing shorts, but oh my,”
Mr. Temple timidly reached up and touched the hairs that were peeking out from the fold of my lowered arm, but after he apologized I shrugged and raised my arm to show him the thick tuft of hair than seemed to interest him so, and he actually reached up and ran his hand through it before shaking his head to clear the fog he was in.
“Where was I?” he said to himself before undoing my shorts, and after they dropped to the carpet I stepped out of them. “I’m such a nervous Nellie.”
“No need to be,” I replied, although I was nervous too, and that nervousness increased when I heard the snap of my boxers open. “There’s not all that much to see.”
“Oh my,” Bruce said after my boxers dropped, and I was happy that this little play we were performing in had gotten me semi-aroused.
“It gets a little bigger, but that’s about it,” I admitted as Bruce’s eyes took in my fat toadstool, and choosing to add something I thought he would like. “I am, like we all are, just as the creator made me.”
“Yes!” Bruce replied with a beaming smile, proud that he thought he was getting through to one of his disciples.
“Your penis, it’s very thick,” he noted. “The bulb on top is as big as an apple.”
“More like a plum,” I corrected before offering, “You can touch it if you want.”
Watching that ghostly hand trembling as it approached my toadstool as if it was radioactive was erotic in a perverse way, and after he touched the head with his index finger and pulled it away fast I shook my head in wonder.
“Now let’s get your clothes off,” I told Mr. Temple as I unbuttoned his pajama top, and while I had seen him naked below the waist several times I had never seen his upper torso before.
While unwrapping Bruce I imagined a scenario where after I got his top off I would be looking at a hairy chest and tattoos galore, but the reality was much like I expected. His chest was scrawny and pale with only a couple of tiny pink nipples breaking the sea of white.
I dropped his bottoms and then we were both naked in his guest room. I reached out at touched his chest, stroking the smooth skin and rubbing the nipple nubs, and as if he was mirroring my actions Mr. Temple did the same to me.
“Big boobs huh?” I snickered while bringing his hand onto my chest and forcing him to squeeze the giving mound, and after I let go of his hand he kept kneading the flesh, even playing with my plump red nipples before he shook his head as if to get out of some kind of spell.
“No, you’re a very attractive young fellow,” Mr. Temple replied, proving he was at the very least lightheaded, but whatever was going on in that room it was affecting us because I was hard and Bruce was well on the way to joining me.
“Remember when I told you how much bigger you are than me?” I mentioned, and when he looked down at our dicks rising to meet each other I helped the process along, grabbing us both and resting my dick on top of his to prove the obvious. “Your cock is twice as big as mine is.”
“No, not quite,” I was told, the shudder in the man’s body visible when our organs touched, and while his assessment was probably right my own guess was painfully close.
“Yours is so incredibly thick,” Mr. Temple said.
“Feels good when they rub together, doesn’t it” I asked, and as Mr. Temple nodded I squeezed them together as best I could before leaning back and rubbing the tips together, causing my neighbor to groan and back away when I think it got too good for him.
“Okay, well why don’t you lay down,” I suggested, and after Mr. Temple turned down the blanket and climbed on I knelt beside him, raising the arching prong up from his belly and stroking the long organ slowly.
“This is different,” Bruce told me as he watched my hand go up and down. “I can see what you’re doing much better.”
I smiled and nodded while leaning over his beautiful cock, first running my tongue along the ridge of the glans and then using the tip of it into the puffy opening of his manhood.
“Mercy!” Mr. Temple exclaimed as he watched me tease his dick, and then I winked before letting my lips go slowly down the length of him until my mouth was in his pubic hair.
Mr. Temple lasted longer this time, apparently learning some self control as my head bobbed up and down, but in the end he was no match for my skills, and after he came loudly I kept sucking until he was spent and limp.
My counselor went on about how much nicer it was in bed, and I had to admit it was more comfortable even though on a purely nasty level being on my knees giving him head while his wife was inside had its virtues.
“I was wondering,” Bruce mused aloud as he looked at my stiff dick. “Would it be alright if I – pleasured you?”
I asked whether that mean he wanted to give me head but he shook his head so briskly he must have rattled his brains before clarifying with a hand motion.
“Jerk – masturbate me?” I corrected, and after he nodded I said that was fine with me so we shifted so I could take his place on my back.
As I settled in it occurred to me that unlike other times when I had gotten together with men, I wasn’t just there to be used. I had the upper hand in this relationship, and while I wasn’t used to it, that’s not to say I didn’t like it.
I could see that in the eyes of this painfully naive and confused man as he looked at my dick standing up like a modest monolith surrounded by pubic hair and tried to figure out how to touch it.
When Bruce finally reached out and wrapped his hand around my erection, his chalky hand shaking as he held it lightly, I suggested that it wasn’t going to work that way because even with his little fingers his fist still covered the length of me.
“I can do that with you because there’s more to work with,” I explained as I had him just grab my erection with his thumb and index finger, and so he started to stroke up and down with an earnest look on his face.
“Like this?”
“Just like that Mr. Temple,” I replied. “Just go up and down as slow or as fast as you want. Feels good.
“You can call me Bruce,” he said softly as he concentrated on his task. “Except maybe at Youth Group.”
“Okay,” I responded, scrunching up a pillow so I could see what he was doing over my belly.
Funny thing was that Mr. Temple was breathing heavier than I was, his exhales coming out of his nose, while I was relaxing and enjoying somebody doing something to me for a change.
“Let me know if I’m not doing this right,” he told me, and as he spoke his free hand slid over my stomach and went to my chest.
As he started gently kneading me he looked up at me briefly, probably for a sign of whether I liked what he was doing, but I just sighed and linked my hands behind my neck to see better.
Emboldened, Bruce kept both hands busy, with his right hand going up and down my dick and the other playing with my nipple, tweaking it and making it swell.
“If your hand is getting tired let me know, ” I mentioned after a couple of minutes. “I’m trying not to cum because this feels so good.”
“Really?”
“Sure, can’t you tell?” I replied while nodding down at what he was holding. “My dick is getting red – the head is almost purple – and see how the veins in the shaft are bulging?”
“Yes, I noticed that, and there’s a little drop of your seed leaking out of you,” Bruce related.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” I instructed as I looked up at the ceiling to keep my neck a break, and after I did Bruce’s hand crept over to my exposed armpit where he every tentatively began raking his nails through my pit hair.
“Nice,” I said as his manicured fingers toyed with my armpits, an area of mine that he had shown interest before as well.
“You’re such a hairy young fellow,” Bruce mentioned for at least the second time, and while I was no bear I supposed that I looked like one to him.
Judging by his re-energized manhood which bobbed in front of him as he knelt at my him, he was enjoying what he was doing, but while I had fought off cumming up until then I could tell the end was near.
“I’m going to cum pretty soon,” I warned Bruce.
“I can tell. The seed is drooling out of your penis like lava,” Bruce noted.
“Use it like lotion – that’s it,” I encouraged. “Now when I cum, don’t stop. okay?”
“Okay,” Bruce replied, and it wasn’t much longer when I grunted a warning seconds before a rope of cum erupted out of me, and although Mr. Temple flinched he didn’t stop.
“OH! OH! OH!” I moaned as a few more spurts popped out before my cum began to flow out and then stop, but to his credit Mr. Temple kept rubbing me until there was nothing to really hold onto, leaving him with semen all over his hand and wrist.
“You survived,” I noted as Mr. Temple reached over for a tissue while I looked at the mess in my crotch, and after he let out a nervous chuckle out of the corner of my eye I saw him bring his wrist to his mouth before cleaning it off with a tissue.
This was like trying to drag somebody to someplace you knew they wanted to go but were putting up resistance for reasons known only to then, so when I saw my spiritual adviser was still semi-erect I decided to pull harder.
“It’s a shame to waste that,” I mentioned while noticed to the spear at half mast. “I couldn’t help noticing you were so hard when you were jerking me off, and I have an idea about someplace you could put that weapon. A place that would feel good to both of us.”
“What?” Mr. Temple replied in his most shocked high-pitched tone. “That’s – that’s – that’s sodomy.”
“Think about how it would feel,” I suggested while rolling over so he could look at my plump buttocks. “You wouldn’t have to worry about going too hard or going too deep because I can take it.”
“Out of the question, and besides I think it’s time you went home Jimmy,” Mr. Temple declared. “Grace will be home before long and I must wash this bedding. Good day.”
“Sorry. Do you still want me to go to the meeting tomorrow night?” I asked, hoping to salvage something from this.
“Of course,” was the answer. and there was no handshake for once.
The Youth Group meeting was even worse than usual, and that was saying something. Mr. Temple avoided eye contact with me whenever he could, and shied away whenever our eyes did meet, but least at the end of the meeting there was something positive.
“Boys and girls, I have an announcement to make before you go. Mrs. Temple and I are going on a little retreat so the next two meetings are cancelled,” he declared, and when there were a bunch of melancholy groans in response I almost laughed out loud.
“We need to get away. Refresh and renew and reaffirm our love for each other,” Bruce concluded, and that statement got a bunch of ‘aw’s’ from the girls.
Was it my fault? I didn’t know and frankly I didn’t care because this meant I had almost a week’s reprieve from this Youth Group madness. Adding to that, I had applied for a job and it actually looked promising, so I assumed this bizarre chapter of my life was over.
***
Much had happened since the Youth Group mentors had taken off on their retreat the previous weekend, not the least of which was me getting a job. While it wasn’t all that great a position, it would get my folks off my back and allow me to put away some money for the college education I was still hoping would take place.
Another thing was that I had begun to exercise some, nothing dramatic at first as I took long walks around the neighborhood that had a little jogging mixed in. I wasn’t choked up about having people see my jiggling body in all it’s glory, so I did it mostly just before and right after daylight.
When I would go past Bruce’s place, I couldn’t help wondering how their attempt at getting their act together was going. Had he told Grace about his activities with me? Doubtful, but given how loony I thought they were, anything was possible. I did hope he used my lovemaking advice with his church mouse spouse though, and if it worked I would have taken credit as the only guy giving good advice on how to have sex with a woman who hadn’t even seen a pussy himself in real life.
I had to admit that in a way I also missed Bruce, despite how much he annoyed me at the Youth Group. Despite being older than me, Mr. Temple managed to not only be more naive than I was, but easily more confused. After all, I knew what I wanted but had spent my time chasing after guys and letting myself be used instead of just letting things happen. Bruce had made me think that maybe – just maybe – I wasn’t the hopeless case that everybody, including myself, thought I was.
So my neighbors eventually returned from their retreat although when I saw them emerge from their car they looked as sullen as usual, especially Grace. With me about to be employed I suggested to Mom that this would make my continued attendance at the Youth Group unnecessary, but she disagreed with my opinion even though she was pleased at how much more focused I had become.
“Stick it out for a bit longer,” Mom declared, and so I ended up going to the next meeting after all.
Compared to the usual Youth Group meetings which reeked of phony enthusiasm from both the Temples and the group of true believers that hung together up front, this one was rather subdued and even broke up ten minutes early, which was a first.
As I left I got the usual handshakes and goodbyes from Grace and Bruce, but his handshake lasted longer and I could feel something pressed into my palm as well.
A note. How grade school I mused, but I was curious enough to read it as soon as I got outside, standing under a streetlight in front of the church and squinting to make it out.
“Jimmy,” it read. “Grace is working at the Thrift Shop from 10 to 2 tomorrow, and I NEED to speak with you.”
I didn’t know what that meant but since I wouldn’t be starting work until the day after that, I had nothing else planned so I went over after dour Grace pulled out of the driveway.
Bruce was waiting at the back door wearing a bathrobe, but he wasn’t looking much happier than his wife had, although he gave me a tight lipped smile along with the usual handshake before leading me to the couch.
“So how did your – getaway? – go?” I asked but got a shake of the head in response as we sat on the sofa.
“Our retreat?” he corrected. “It did not go well.”
“It rained around here a couple of days,” I mentioned.
“That wasn’t the cause,” Bruce said.
“Oh,” I replied, not used to being the counselor.
“I did what you said to do. I was soft and tender, and when I entered Grace I made sure not to go too hard, not too deep and also made sure I didn’t end it too quickly.”
“And?”
“Nothing,” Bruce admitted. “Grace just looked up at me blankly like she always does, and after a while she said, ‘Finish up’.”
“Finish up?” I asked, and although I wasn’t sure about the straight side of sex, I knew enough to figure that it wasn’t a good thing to hear.
“Yes. The next night after we turned in Grace rolled over right away, and the third night I didn’t even try anything,” Bruce told me. “The only thing I could think about was – you.”
“Me?”
“You make me feel like a man,” Bruce said as he stood up and stood in front of me, dramatically letting the robe fall off him as he did. “The things you do to me – it’s all so good that even though I know it’s wrong I can’t help myself.”
“I got a job,” I mentioned while trying to ignore that long pale snake dangling in front of me, and the fact that it was getting hard didn’t make it easier. “Starting tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong?” I was asked when I didn’t grab the semi-erect prong.
“For one thing I don’t like the idea that you think what we do is wrong,” I mentioned. “I sure don’t.”
“But I’m married,” Bruce protested.
“How’s that working out for you?” I snapped before continuing. “Another thing, it’s just me that’s giving while you just take. The one time you touched my dick you acted like it was radioactive.”
“I know. I’m not used…”
“To top it off, I suggested that you might want to do something different. I offered to let you take me anally, and you come off like I’m gross.”
“I wasn’t expecting…
“A simple no would have been fine. It’s not for everybody. Hell, it might not even be for me because the only other time I did it I didn’t like it,” I concluded. “It’s just that we were getting along so well and I thought you might like to be inside of somebody who actually wanted you.”
“I do,” Bruce said, and his cock was so hard that it was actually curving upwards, but after he spoke he dropped to his knees and fumbled for the clasp on my shorts.
Because my belly was in the way I realized I would have to stand up, so I did and let his fumbling fingers take down my shorts. After my boxers came down I watched Bruce take a deep breath before leaning forward and opening his mouth.
For the next couple of minutes I was treated to the worst head imaginable, as his teeth raked up and down my plump stub, but I appreciated the effort and told him so and I asked him whether he had any kind of lube.
I knew he didn’t have anything like the barely touched tube of Analglide I had in my dresser at home, but I suggested maybe his wife had some kind of hand lotion or something.
“No. Grace doesn’t use any kind of beauty products,” I was told, and that didn’t surprise me because she was as plain as Bruce was, but not even a hand moisturizer?
“No. Grace doesn’t believe in doing anything to change the way we are created,” I was told by Bruce from his knees. “No make-up, no razors. Nothing like that. She wouldn’t have it.”
“Oh,” I answered as I wondered what Grace would look like naked and unshorn everywhere. “Then why don’t you have a beard?”
“I would if – but nothing grows,” Bruce said as he rubbed his smooth cheeks. “She hates my parents for having me circumcised.”
“Be right back,” I declared as I pulled up my pants and made a beeline for my bedroom, returning in record time with the lube.
“Here. Let me,” I said as I squirted some lube on his semi-erect member, and after my hand went up and down his dick a couple of times it was hard.
“Your turn,” I said as I handed Bruce the lube, and after I went down on all fours I presented my ass to him. “Lube me up. Put some on your finger and stick it inside of me.”
“Don’t know how,” I heard him mumble as he fumbled with the gel, and then there was a moment’s hesitation when I felt his hand between my spread ass cheeks. “Oh. You’re hairy back here too.”
“Sorry.”
“No. I like it,” Bruce told me as his digit finally found the mark, and as he sunk it into me I pushed back into his hand.
“That’s it,” I moaned as he moved it in and out, and when he fretted about hurting me I told him to not worry and shut up. “All I want is your dick in my ass. Fuck me like you used to fuck your wife. I won’t wimp out.”
I wasn’t sure about that because even though Bruce’s cock wasn’t as thick as my previous partner had been, his weapon was long, and I wasn’t sure whether Bruce was going to actually go through with it, but we were both wrong.
“Arrgh!” I grunted when after he knelt behind me he put the tip of his tool where his finger had been, and as he leaned into me it sounded like he was babbling in tongues as he impaled me. “Give it to me.”
That he did, even though almost right away I thought he came. As I would learn he had but had managed to keep his snake in me and was so excited that he got hard right away.
I wished I could have watched Bruce as he knelt there thrusting hard and fast while squeezing my fleshy hips while the sounds of his babbling and our flesh slapping together filled the air.
It felt real good to me, so much so that I was sad when he groaned and came again, filling my bowels with even more of his seed before he collapsed onto my back and hugged me.
“Thank you,” he whispered as his sweaty smooth skin pressed against my back, thankfully not shaking my hand, and then we ended up taking a shower together.
“You didn’t – I mean I didn’t get to pleasure you,” he mentioned as we lathered each other up.
“That’s okay,” I told him, but as I used my hands to soap his goodies I told him, “I have an idea.”
My idea was to take his flaccid organ and press it against my stiff dick, and as I squeezed us together as best I could Bruce smiled and brought his hand down to help.
“Feels good doesn’t it? Our dicks rubbing together like this?” I asked, and his delirious nodding answered that question as we ground into each other before I leaned back and rubbed the tips together.
“I’m gonna cum,” I announced as I looked down at our duel, and through the shower spray I watched my cum spurt all over his semi-limp dick while my whole body tingled.
“This has been one of the best days of my life,” Bruce told me as we hugged, and as it turned out we had several more days like that over the next month, with my neighbor actually managing to suck my dick halfway decently even if all he did was suck on the head while using his thumb and finger on the shaft.
All good things must come to an end though, but it was a shame that it ended like it did. One morning after Grace went to work at the thrift shop I came over and assumed the position on the downstairs rug with Bruce sliding up behind me and putting in the cock that was a perfect fit for me.
By that time Bruce was no longer shy and was actually playing along with me when I would talk nasty. While he drilled my rectum I would say the nastiest things, stuff like, “Fuck me with your big cock Daddy!”, and he actually began to come up with some things of his own.
I believe that when it all went bad, Bruce had a handful of my scalp and was pulling back on it (very gently) while telling me he was going to split my ass wide open with his big daddy dick when things got weird.
I didn’t see much of it because I was facing the wall, my eyes closed while being impaled by Bruce, when I heard a scream, quickly followed by a loud crash which was a little bookcase falling because Grace Temple had apparently fainted onto it.
There was blood from a cut Grace got on her head, and because she was passed out Bruce called for an ambulance while we got dressed fast and I tried to figure out what happened.
Apparently Grace had come home because she didn’t feel well, and although Bruce was always careful about making sure the front and back doors were locked which would have give us a little warning, Grace came into the downstairs from the unlocked door that went to the garage.
This gave Mrs. Temple a bird’s eye view of her husband taking me from behind on the carpet, and I guess it was too much for her to take. Grace did stay at the hospital overnight because of her concussion, and I actually went down to see her although to say she wasn’t happy to see me would be an understatement.
“I can’t believe how you got my husband to do such a thing to you,” Grace said while Bruce tried to calm her down and tell it wasn’t all my fault, but she brushed him off like she probably did when he was trying to screw her. “I had a bad feeling about you from the start. I thought you were The Devil Incarnate the moment I saw you but I convinced myself we should try and help you, and THIS is the thanks we get?”
I was speechless, partly because I was looking at Grace’s leg that was outside the sheet, and admiring her skinny calf that was almost as hairy as my own, which may or many not be why Bruce was so taken by my body hair, but I took my leave before she got more upset.
Bruce and Grace Temple moved out almost right after that, and I guess that Grace must have paid my Mom a visit because I didn’t have to go to the Youth Group any more, and not just because Grace Temple would not have it.
“I take all the blame. Should never have subjected you to those people. They were so weird I should have known,” Mom told me, and while I didn’t know how much my mother knew I guess she knew enough. “It wasn’t your fault honey, and don’t worry. Your father will never know.”
In the end the Youth Group folded when the leaders left and I grew up and turned out okay, and while I have no idea how Bruce Temple ended up, I hope he was able to end up happy although I suspect that would have meant him getting away from his wife so I don’t know. He wasn’t a bad guy, just confused and definitely not cut out to be a counselor of young guys.
****
Thank you for reading.