A gay adult story: The Permissive Purity of Father Fontane by NeonChameleon ,
The Fontane Doctrine
Part 1
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The older priest shuffled his feet as he strode the avenue. “Didn’t use to be like this,” he said to his new acquaintance. “Before I got here, we’d be stirring up used condoms right now instead of them pretty leaves. And on up a couple of blocks, there was pimps and pushers and prostitutes and porn shops. All gone to the wretched city where they belong.”
“Hard to believe. But, how did you do it?” asked the younger man.
“Long story. I was a priest for a long time at the diocese before we all had a falling out. Not a sin thing. They just didn’t like what I was saying. Then, I started gettin’ some followers and the Cardinal wanted me gone but had no cause. So, they offer the deed here to their failing church and a steepleful of cash and only a fool woulda said ‘no’. This parish was dieing. Hell, the clergy couldn’t relate to the people. Couldn’t keep the city clean. I come along and do both. Got influence with the town council. Got downtown spruced up. Got the name changed to Pristine Valley.”
“Yeah, it does seem pretty pristine, Father Fontane.”
“Everett. Call me Everett. Do you mind if I call you Simon or would you prefer Father Dott?
“Well, I’m not a priest anymore, which leads me to the question of why you called me here.”
“Opportunity Simon. Opportunity.” He brushed back some of his white, cotton candy hair. “We’ll get to that. For now, let’s walk and be glad our eyes ain’t torched by perversions like in the city. Won’t see a lick of that here. Check the newspaper. Clean as a whistle.”
They walked for several blocks amid storefronts that glistened with newness and people who greeted with smiles while children roamed freely without harm.
“Here … church property. We’ll go to my office. Talk a bit til my counseling appointment.” He motioned for his visitor to have a seat and he continued. “You see Simon, I can’t handle all of this. You’re what—43? I need help, especially with counseling.”
“Father—I mean Everett, you know no diocese will take me back or let me counsel anyone.”
“Ah, but if we can redeem Pristine Valley, then we can redeem your history. Besides, we ain’t part of the diocese. Independent. Do as we see fit.”
Eventually the box on the desk squawked, “Father, your 4:30 is here.”
A short, blond mother entered with a her son who was just as blond.
“Father, I am so glad you take time for us. I know you’re busy and we’re one of the lucky ones.”
“Indeed Miss Kaski. But, ours is a mission of good deeds.”
He invited Dott and the woman to get to know one another in the waiting room while he met with the boy in his office, but before they parted, he asked, “Miss Kaski, have you thought more about selling your home? The city is no place for a boy like yours.”
“It’s difficult Father. Maybe after the divorce.”
As Dott began conversing with the woman, he felt warmed by her smile and easy manner which made him feel comfortable, as did the older building that creaked with tradition and reminded him of better times.
Yes—comfortable.
For awhile.
Until the woman leaned to him and in a hushed tone said, “I don’t know what I would have done if not for Father Fontane. How lucky for us that he is willing to find time in his schedule. I mean, where else could I go and find such a decent man to help me with my son? He’s a cocksucker you know.”
Dott’s insides gasped. Who was a cocksucker? Is that what they were doing? No! Couldn’t be! Fontane had converted a decadent valley into one of wholesomeness. He was a man of the cloth, a man devoted to good deeds, and a man who had left his former diocese in good standing.
But then, Simon Dott hadn’t known Father Everett Fontane very long.
In time, the Father’s office door opened. Fontane and the boy were smiling and after hugs all around the mother and son departed and Fontane fell back to his office chair.
“Such a good boy. Nice family, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. I mean, yes. Yes.”
“’You don’t sound sure.”
“No, no I’m sure. But, she said something that was…unexpected.”
“And what was that?”
Dott stalled, wondering if he should continue. “She said…She said that her boy is…well, that her boy is a cocksucker. Just came right out and said it.”
“Ah. Well. Yes. Simon, we accept all kinds. And we don’t judge. The Kaski’s come all the way from the city so I figure least I can do is take time for them.”
“And taking time means counseling.”
“Of course. What else do you want to call it?”
“I don’t know. Just the way she said it. Made me wonder…”
“Wonder? You mean wonder if he’s blowing me?” Fontane laughed and adjusted his collar. With his eyes down and in almost a whisper he said, “Of course he’s blowing me.” Then, he looked up and added, “And pretty damned well I might add.”
The younger man nearly fell off of his chair. How could Fontane admit to it and how could he do it so freely? Was it all a dream or was this some kind of Twilight Zone? To learn more, he had to show composure.
“Can’t have him wandering through the city can we? Dangerous. Lots of perverts. Who knows what vile things they would do? Better he comes here where it’s safe and there are, you know, men of decency. We’re priests. That means we help.”
“I suppose. I mean, yes. So that means the mother knows you have her son sucking your cock?”
“No!” the older man gruffed. “She brings him here knowing I will LET him suck my cock. There’s a difference.”
“But, I thought you said things like that don’t happen in the Valley.”
“No Simon, I said they aren’t seen in the Valley. Where there’s humans, things happen, but for the sake of our valley, we don’t go shouting it from rooftops or putting it in miniskirts on street corners or talking about it on television. We work it out, not air it out.”
After an uneasy silence, the older man continued. “Besides, ain’t no sin gettin’ a bj.”
“No sin? Father Fontane, you’re a priest. How can you say that?”
“Easy my boy. Because it ain’t sex.”
“Huh?”
“Write it down Dott: If it ain’t sex, it ain’t sin. And it ain’t sex.”
“Since when?”
“Well my dear boy since the esteemed William Jefferson Clinton said so. If the president of the United States says bj’s ain’t sex, then they ain’t sex and if they ain’t sex then they ain’t sin. You have your government to thank for that one!”
Dott sighed and thought for a few seconds. “Okay, let’s suppose you’re right. Still, the world is screaming about boys and priests so one way or another it’s bad.”
“Says the only one of us who ever been defrocked! Look Simon, it ain’t ‘bad’ because we don’t sneak. Anyone who needs to know, knows. We don’t seduce no one. They come to us. It’s a sacrifice what with my schedule and all, but it’s a service. Just ask the Kaskis.”
It was strange yet fascinating to hear the Father dismiss such things while also making them sound as if they were acts of noble benevolence. Dott’s mind couldn’t process it all but there was a question that had to be asked even if the answer might douse the embers of lust that were beginning to rise within him.
“I suppose. But Father Fontane, there’s one more thing.”
“And, just what might that be?”
“Your vows.”
“Ah yes! The vows. Vows of celibacy.”
“There’s no way on this planet earth that you can find blowjobs among the permissions of those vows.”
“Vows. Orthodox Vows at that. Stringent. From a long time ago. But my boy, that topic is too big for today. We got a room for you at the hotel. It’s old but redeemed. Paid for by the parish along with your food and drinks, except not alcohol of course, because we don’t want to corrupt anyone.”
As Dott walked to the hotel his thoughts rambled. Not corrupt anyone! The old man was getting it from a boy’s mouth! Maybe many boys!
Through the evening, his mind meandered through a wonderland of what-if’s and curiosities that led to the same two questions: Was Pristine Valley some kind of elaborate masquerade? Or, was it possible that Father Everett Fontane was on to something entirely new and wonderfully permissive? Even so, the old man would never have an answer to that unanswerable question of vows, so did any of it really matter?
Before sleep found him, he decided on one thing. He would not permit himself to become enchanted or seduced by the lusty suggestions of the Valley because it was all just a false front, a rickety facade supported by a superficial notion of vows which would snap under the weight of tomorrow’s question.
Dott supposed he should feel sorry for the old man but if Fontane’s beliefs couldn’t support themselves, then it wasn’t his problem. Besides, if it was all just a sham, then humanity needed a man like him to bring those walls tumbling down and the sooner the better.
Yes, there might be destruction and falling debris, but Dott would be unscathed and sometime tomorrow, he would return to the city no worse for the experience and no different than the day he had arrived.
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Fontane greeted him at his office and they engaged in some incidental conversation. Dott found it difficult to raise the question yet with each passing minute, the pressure to do so was building.
Just then, the old man blurted, “Thought you was going to ask me something.”
Dott gathered himself. “Everett, I’m not trying to offend you, but you have to admit, letting a boy suck your dick is in conflict with your vows.”
“Offend me? You’re the one who should try not being offended.”
“Huh?”
“Hell Simon, the only reason you got defrocked is because you never took the time to study and know your rights. Fault’s on you. Offend me …” he huffed. “I spent years considering these things and how our vows stand after decades of changes in society. Spent months detailing my thoughts before the diocese. Even wrote a thesis that they never did refute. As for vows, I never broke one of them. Not a one! Ever.”
“But, how can you say that after yesterday? You can’t find any permissions in Orthodox Vows for that blond boy to suck your cock!”
“Easy Simon. Ain’t in the permissions. It’s in the omissions?”
“What?
“Look, the Orthodox Vow prohibits intimacy with anyone, contact with females, acts of sodomy, that sort of thing. There’s more to it, but aren’t those the parts you’re asking about? That was then; this is now.”
“Maybe the times have changed but the vows haven’t.”
“Exactly my point!”
“You’re confusing me.”
“Our vows stayed the same, but society changed. For example, decades ago the states began redefining cocksucking and saying it was no longer sodomy. Before that, if you stuck your dick in a boy’s mouth, you were sodomizing him. But now, it ain’t sodomy, it ain’t intimacy, and it ain’t with a woman. Ain’t my fault they did that.”
“That just sounds like a…a loophole.”
“Call it that if you want but they’re the ones who never updated the pledge to plug the holes poked by time. With those holes, there’s nothing saying you can’t do what the law now says you can. Besides, before you go gettin’ all high and mighty, let me ask you something. If it’s so easy for you to see it and me to see it, then don’t you think all the others seen it going back a long time?”
“’Others’?”
“Priests, deacons, vicars, bishops, the whole fucking lot of them! And, if they all knew then why didn’t any of them do anything about it?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Of course you do. They don’t want it fixed! Keeps guilt off them so they can do what they been doing for decades. They don’t want no one blowin’ their cover. And Simon, there’s something else that you need to think about—especially you.”
“Why especially me?”
“Because Simon you been had! All them high and mighty judicial vicars who gave you the boot was laughin’ themselves silly—in secret, of course. They spent all them hours studying your case before your tribunal and you can bet the entire time they was studying, they was getting their dicks sucked by some cute boy. If that don’t make you mad, nothing will! Hypocrites! Every last one of them!”
Simon Dott was not a man given to vengeance but for several seconds, that is what seized him.
“Best way to get back at them is Pristine Valley. Spite them! Get your ‘cloth’ back. Get your respect and reputation. Help people. Generous salary. Room and board. Think about it. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He grinned and added, “And think about this…” A sly smile spread across his face. “All the cocksuckers a man like you could possibly want.”
Dott couldn’t remember eating dinner. He wondered if he might be going just a little bit mad because he hadn’t refuted any of Fontane’s assertions and now, his imagination spun with more what-ifs and the enticing possibilities of Fontane’s last statement.
Not long after retiring for the night, his hand found his cock and his imagination followed. He saw an image. A cocksucker. On his knees.
And blond hair, just like his mother.
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The next morning included a tour of the property, meeting other priests, and walking downtown before again returning to the man’s office.
“Bet it’s hard to figure out what you’re going to do, ain’t it Simon? Let’s make it easier. Two week trial. Two weeks and if you don’t like us, you walk away. What say?”
“I…I don’t…know.”
“You got nothin’ in the city. Come to Pristine. Might just be paradise. You might just be counseling before the day is done.”
Dott’s cock stirred but he replied, “Everett, I…I’m still not settled about the vows.”
“So what? Vows don’t matter. Not right now. You’re only signing up as an acting priest, not an actual priest.”
Dott hadn’t thought of that. But, was that enough? “Everett, what if…what if I can’t take it for two weeks and I want to cut out after two days?”
“Good ‘nuf for me! Done deal.” Fontane tapped his squawk box. “Miss Hale, bring in the papers.”
“Wait! Do I actually have to sign something?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“If you want a cocksucker. Simon, as it stands right now, you’re just another man from the city. Can’t have you defiling our boys. Gotta have something says you’re one of us.”
It was crazy! One minute he would be a pervert from the city and the next, a priest of the parish and the only difference was a piece of paper and the few seconds it took to sign!
There was a light knock on the door.
Jenni Hale was the type of girl who could fill your dreams as much as she filled her crisp white blouse and tight plaid skirt. She was fit, pleasant, in her early thirties, and the scintillation in her eyes suggested she had a few secrets of her own. Her smile was warm and impish and framed by a set of pinkish and pouty lips.
Dott’s body twisted. What man wouldn’t want a shot with her? Maybe her smile was a signal of more than friendship and he would be a fool to sign anything. Maybe that was also what caused her enigmatic eyes. Maybe she was interested. Why else was she looking at him? If he signed those papers, any chance he might have with her would end because what girl would date a man who signed up for cocksuckers instead of her?
But, who was he kidding?
Girls like Miss Jenni Pouty-chops never went for guys like him. In fact, if rejections from girls had been marked on his bedpost, he would have been sleeping on splinters long ago. Besides, if he rejected the old man’s offer, he wouldn’t be permitted on the property long enough to seduce her anyway.
The pen felt like an anvil but his hand went into motion. He wasn’t losing Jenni Hale because he never had her and if she was like most girls, she probably didn’t know how to use that pretty little mouth for anything worthwhile.
As she departed with the papers, Fontane exclaimed, “Very good! Now, get yourself down to Cagney’s and get outfitted while I make a phone call and get a…” he winked, “…counseling appointment ready when you get back.”
Ordinarily, having his inseam measured would not have bothered Simon Dott much, but on this day, everyone at Cagney’s knew he was the new priest and one sporting a persistent erection. Yet, no one made an issue of it and he began to wonder if Pristinians ignored such things, either to keep the Valley’s appearance of wholesomeness or perhaps because folks of the Valley were accustomed to seeing their priests with hard-ons.
When he returned to Father Fontane, he was directed to an office three doors down.
“This’ll be yours,” Fontane said. “Nice don’t ya think? It’ll look a little nicer when the boy gets here. Any minute now. He’s Asian. Mama’s a Buddhist. I agreed to counsel but of course only to get them converted. Can’t have them going to hell can we?”
“Soooo, the only way to keep Buddhists from going to hell is to have their sons suck your cock?”
“Not the only way but, heh-heh, certainly the best. Anyway, the reason I’m putting him with you is ‘cuz they’re pestering me every day and I can’t do it every day, I mean what with the others.”
The boy appeared and smiled and entered the office. He was smooth-skinned with a youthful face and a playful smile.
“Ahhhhh yes! Simon, this is Yin. Yin, this is Father Simon Dott, the new counselor I promised you.”
“Where’s his mother?” Dott asked.
“Usually just drops him off.”
“But, she’s never met me.”
“Don’t matter. We’re priests. She figures he’s okay.” Fontane leaned closer to whisper. “He’s easy. Only wants one thing. All you gotta do is pull it out. Take your time. See me when you’re done.”
Dott couldn’t remember how it began because the instant the boy’s mouth surrounded his boner, the world exploded in splashes of brilliant pastels and colliding rivers of conflict between the acting and the actual limits of priestly behavior. But, Yin’s mouth was taking over; consuming him; raising him to a sexual utopia he had not felt in months. It was sweet and soft and eager and came with a skilled tongue.
The boy was in no hurry. When Dott approached the point of no return, the boy slowed and when the tempest calmed, he resumed a faster pace. Yin’s moans were nearly imperceptible but the vibrations on Dott’s cock weren’t. It had been too long since a warm mouth had encompassed his needy manhood and even if it lasted a lifetime, it would end too soon.
Delirium stole his accounting for time but eventually, he felt his balls tightening and there was nothing he could do to delay any longer his excruciating need for release.
Breath came in waves as did his thoughts. In the boy’s mouth. Right in his mouth! Just empty his full balls right into the boy’s mouth! Maybe Yin would gag or his eyes would bulge but those weren’t Dott’s concerns. The boy was a cocksucker. He knew how things worked. If he couldn’t take a hard blast of jism, then he shouldn’t be down on his knees.
Dott’s hands latched onto the boy’s head. His back arched. He cried out. His balls spasmed and he shot one hard blast of cum into the boy’s mouth. Yin seemed unfazed. Another release that jerked the head of his cock upward to pulse against the top of the boy’s mouth. Another and another and another, so much that his stomach muscles ached.
When he had finished, Yin pulled his mouth off the priest’s cock, smiled, and opened his mouth to show that he had swallowed.
Dott didn’t know how long he had been sitting in post-orgasmic stupor, but as his wits returned, he realized the boy was gone and so was most of daylight. He felt a release from months of tension but he wondered if one blowjob was enough to convince him to stay. Despite those doubts, one thing had become crystal clear:
There was at least one excellent cocksucker in Pristine Valley.
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[part 2 follows]
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