Son of a Preacher Man
By:
B W
(© 2013 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 9
Judgment Day.
Peter left shortly after he awoke the following morning, due to a couple of reasons. First, he knew we’d be going to church and didn’t feel my mom and dad would look favorably on him joining us, especially after what we’d been caught doing. Second, he felt my parents wouldn’t want him around during our discussion afterward either, since they probably held him at least partially to blame for what had taken place. Even if they didn’t blame him, he felt totally responsible for us having been caught, since it had been his suggestion to start doing things right away and that had led to our discovery. For those reasons, he felt it would be better for me if he disappeared as quickly as possible.
We heard my mom and dad arrive home shortly after midnight, since Peter and I were finding it difficult to fall asleep, but they went directly to their room for the night. I believe they did this because they were tired from the long day, but I also think they felt it would be best if this discussion was held when we were all more rested. I didn’t, however, feel it would be the case for me, since I had a rather fitful slumber filled with unsettling dreams, but I was still preparing to attend Sunday services with them. At the same time, I was dreading the fact that I would have to face my father when we returned home later.
The church service seemed to last longer than usual, but I could tell my dad’s heart wasn’t into what he was doing. Although he apologized to the congregation and explained he was tired from his trip to the wedding and asked for their indulgence with his less than stellar performance, I knew the real reason he was off his game. No one seemed to mind, however, and many even told him so when they spoke to him following the service. Once everyone was gone, Dad closed up the building and we rode home in total silence. When we pulled up in front of the house, my dad turned to me and spoke.
“Zachariah. I want you to go upstairs and get out of your church clothes,” he began, “and then meet me in my study. There are some things we need to discuss.”
I nodded my understanding and swallowed hard. I could tell I was in big trouble, because my father only used my proper first name when he was upset with me. Although I knew the moment I dreaded had arrived, I still wasn’t ready to endure what was to come. Reluctantly, I summoned enough willpower to slink up to my room to change, as I’d been instructed. When I finished, I dragged myself back down the stairs and went into the study to face the music. My father was already there and seated in his favorite armchair when I entered. When he looked up, I could have sworn he was looking into the depth of my soul.
“Zachariah, your mother told me what she saw yesterday…” he began, but I interrupted.
“Dad, I can explain,..” I offered, but he cut me
off as well.
”Zach, please don’t interrupt me,” he stated, very calmly. “You may have your
say after I finish.”
I was actually surprised that he seemed quite relaxed and unemotional when speaking, so I assumed my mother had warned him about how I thought he was going to react.
“You have to know the things you were doing were wrong,” he continued, “and you obviously must know how I and the church stand on this issue. That sort of behavior is totally unacceptable and sinful. I cannot and will not condone or allow such behavior under my roof. I know we all yield to temptation, on occasion, and you are no exception to that rule. I must have your word, however, that you will never be a part of such behavior again.”
This was not what I was expecting to hear from my dad, because I had been prepared for him to rant and rave, quote scripture and threaten me with the fire and brimstone of hell. Instead, and to my total amazement, my father remained calm and thoughtful, while apparently attempting to provide me a chance to repent. Even though I appreciated his offer, I knew I couldn’t accept the terms he was laying down.
“I can’t make that promise, Dad,” I responded. “I’m gay and that’s just how we love each other.”
“Son, you’re not listening to me,” my father replied, but this time his voice was harsher and slightly louder. “I’m not giving you a choice. If you want to continue living under my roof, then you will have to abandon that lifestyle.”
“Dad, I can’t give up what you call a lifestyle,” I reiterated. “It’s not something I chose, but it is who I am.”
“Zachariah, you’re still a minor and I’m your
father,” he stated.
”Therefore, you will obey me.”
“Dad, you don’t understand. This isn’t something I can merely slip on and off, like putting on my church clothes.” I challenged, even though I knew it would most likely draw his ire. “Do you think I actually chose to be gay? Do you think I would willingly open myself up to public ridicule and rejection if I could easily avoid it? Do you think I would risk potential humiliation and beatings if it was possible for me to be what you, and everyone else, expects me to be instead?”
“I’m not sure what you chose, but that’s not important,” he countered, while glaring at me sternly. “What’s important is that you will honor my wishes and obey me.”
“Dad, are you even listening to me?” I shot back, exasperated. “I didn’t plan or choose to be gay. I was born gay. If the situation were reversed, do you think you could have given up loving Mom or another woman, just so you could start loving a man?”
“That’s not a realistic analogy and it’s not relevant,” my father objected.
“It is realistic and it is relevant,” I demanded. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t change who I am, any more than a lion could become a lamb. The lion didn’t choose to be a lion, any more than I chose to be gay. It’s who I am and that’s how I was born.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Zachariah,” he scoffed. “You could easily learn to be normal.”
“No, I can’t!” I screamed back. “Girls do absolutely nothing for me. I’m not attracted to them and they certainly don’t arouse me sexually. It would be pretty hard for a guy to have sex with a girl if she doesn’t cause him to become aroused. It’s guys that do that for me and it’s how I know I’m definitely gay. There is nothing you can do or say that will change that fact.”
“Then you won’t obey me?” he asked, unable to comprehend my resistance.
“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I answered, meekly.
“Then you’re saying you’re going to turn your back on me, on God and on the teachings of the church?” he followed.
“No. I’m not turning my back on any of that stuff,” I disagreed. “I’m turning my back on how man interprets what God wants. I’m turning my back on the religious institutions whose narrow-minded interpretations of scripture would condemn someone for being different from them. I’m turning my back on the ministers and evangelists who have affairs outside of marriage, breaking a commandment, not just a few verses of scripture, and then have the nerve to preach about sexual morality. I’m turning my back on priests who have sex contrary to their vows or even molest children, while at the same time condemning man-to-man love.
“Yes, I’m turning my back on those things,” I continued, “and instead I’m putting my faith in the loving and forgiving God that I’ve heard you preach about so often. I’m putting my faith in the God who said ‘Judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.’ He also told us, ‘He that is without sin among you, let him cast a stone...’ Yes, that’s the God I place my faith in, the very same God that made me gay, because I’m confident he wouldn’t turn his back on me or try to prevent me from fulfilling the needs he instilled in me at birth.”
“Zach, it doesn’t work that way,” my dad countered. “He is a forgiving God and will forgive the occasional infraction, if you repent. He won’t, however, forgive repeated offenses of things that you know are wrong.”
“That’s the problem,” I shot back. “I don’t think God considers it wrong if two people truly love each other and agree it is right for them, regardless of their sex. I do believe, however, that God would think that forcing someone into that type of relationship, without consent, would be wrong. No matter how strongly you disagree, I don’t believe God would create me this way and then not allow me to follow my heart, any more than he would give us hunger and then not allow us to eat.”
“Zach, why do you keep insisting that God created you this way?” my father challenged.
“It’s because I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” I answered. “I didn’t just wake up one morning and say I think I’m going to be gay, so I can endure homophobic attitudes and spend my days dodging gay-bashers. Hell, no one would decide to live with that if they truly had a choice. I didn’t just have a miraculous vision that I needed to go out and suck some cock…”
“Zachariah, watch your language,” my father shouted, as his face turned red.
“I’m sorry if it bothers you, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m gay,” I countered. “I’ve known that I’m only attracted to other boys for almost as long as I can remember. That’s why I offered to help out and bathe the younger boys. I’m sorry if it offends your sense of morality, but I can’t alter the fact that it’s who I am.”
“Then I can’t allow you to remain under my roof,” he stated, in a calm, rational voice. “I’m sorry, Zach, but I won’t compromise my principles, beliefs or faith and allow fornicators or the act of fornication to be allowed in my home.”
“Fine, then I’ll leave and take my chances with God on Judgment Day,” I replied, with a tinge of venom in my voice.
I immediately raced upstairs and packed my things, but it didn’t take very long to get everything I needed, since most of it was already packed for the trip to Ryan’s. For that reason, I was out of there much faster than my parents expected and stormed out of the house. I heard my mother call my name before the door closed behind me, but I have a feeling my father prevented her from doing any more than that.
Since I had quite a bit with me and it was fairly heavy to tote very far, I stopped at one of the few pay phones still in use and called Peter. He said he’d already mentioned to his parents that I might need to stay there until Thursday, when we left for Missouri, and they had no problem with it. He hadn’t, however, told them what had happened and was hoping we’d be out of town before they found out, if they ever found out.
Once that had been cleared up, he asked me where I was and then told me to remain there and he’d have his dad drive over to get me. Fortunately, he understood I couldn’t carry everything I had with me all the way to his house and was worried I might injure myself in the process, due to the bulkiness and weight of my belongings. I thanked him for his concern and told him that I’d see him shortly. It was only about twenty minutes later when they pulled up, with Peter sitting in the front seat next to his dad.
They helped me load my things into the trunk and then I got into the back seat. Peter’s father asked why I hadn’t just waited for them at my house, so I told him my parents had invited some of the congregants over after services and I decided it would be best if they didn’t get invited in for introductions. Besides, it wasn’t difficult for me to walk some of the way and shorten their trip a little. He seemed confused by my answer, but accepted it and we drove away.
I shared Peter’s room with him until we left to catch our flight on Thursday. I also took care of Peter’s needs, while his parents were at work, but I wasn’t in the mood for him to return the favor. Peter didn’t push me into doing anything I didn’t want to and tried to comfort me in other ways. He was a good listener, but he also attempted to distract me by talking about a great many other things. He was more than consoling and took good care of me until we arrived in Missouri. When we got off the bus, after we reached the town where Ryan lived, Ryan ran up to greet us. I introduced him to Peter and then he turned and stared at me.
“Zach. What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” I lied, because I wasn’t ready to explain the situation to him yet.
“You can’t fool me,” he shot back. “Remember, it’s me, Ryan, your best friend, and I know you inside and out.”
I guess he really did at that. Seeing his father wasn’t around, since he had offered to wait in the car in the loading area when they couldn’t find a parking space, I reluctantly offered a brief explanation.
“My mom caught me and Peter fooling around and then my dad threw me out of his house,” I confessed, while giving him the briefest version of the story.
“Oh, Zach,” he whined, as he hugged me, “I’m so sorry. You must feel awful. Come on and we’ll go to my house, where we can discuss this in private.”
After a brief pause, while he was hugging me some more, he suddenly remembered that Peter was there too. Hurriedly, he broke our embrace, turned toward Peter and spoke.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you,” he apologized. “Come on and we’ll go out and load your things into our car.”
Ryan then led us to where he’d left his father and we introduced him to Peter. Then, they helped us load of luggage into the trunk of their car, so we could set out for their house, where we’d be able to talk this out with Ryan. Upon our arrival, we stopped to say hello to Ryan’s mother and introduced her to Peter too, and then the three of us went to Ryan’s room. Once we got comfortable, we started to explain to Ryan what had happened before we left and then I told him everything that happened, from the time we were caught and up to when we arrived here.
“So, you don’t think your dad will change his mind?” Ryan asked, since he thought my father wouldn’t maintain his stance forever.
“No way. You know how he always sticks to his guns,” I shot back, since I was convinced my father would stand his ground.
“Yeah, I remember, but I thought he might have changed,” Ryan offered, ”You’re welcome to stay here, because I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” I replied. “Peter said his parents would probably be willing to make the same offer, after we explained to them about us being gay, but I don’t want him to take the risk that they might react badly to the news as well. I’d actually just prefer to find some way to get my parents… well I guess just get my dad to change his mind. I still love my mom and dad and don’t think I’d be able to live knowing they hate my guts.”
“Look, we’ve got the summer to figure something out, so there’s no reason to keep dwelling on it now,” Ryan reasoned. “Either way, you’ll have somewhere to live and then we can apply to the same colleges, so we’ll still be together.”
“I’ll apply to the same colleges too,” Peter added. “Zach, I won’t abandon you, since you’re only in this mess because you tried to help me, and promise I won’t let you deal with this alone. You don’t mind, do you, Ryan?”
“Heck, no. I think it’s great that Zach’s got another good friend too,” he agreed.
Slowly, things started to get back to normal, at least as normal as they could be under the circumstances, but I was determined to put this behind me while I was here. I wasn’t about to let my family problems destroy my time with Ryan or interfere with our plans to jointly help Peter, so I felt it would be best to get him acclimated to the area as quickly as we could. We started out by taking him over to show him the farm and checking in with Mr. Johnson.
Mr. Johnson seemed glad to see me again and also welcomed Peter to the crew. We wouldn’t start working there until Monday, so we’d have time to get adjusted to the different time zone, but we also gave Peter a quick tour of the place and showed him some of the things we’d be doing. When we returned to Ryan’s house, Peter said he was going to take a walk outdoors, so it would give Ryan and me a little time to be alone and enjoy each other again, like we used to do.
Although it didn’t take us long to get reacquainted to each other’s body, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to do very much. I was still depressed about what had happened at home and kept trying to figure out if there was anything I might be able to do or say to get my parents to relent. Unfortunately, our first time being alone again didn’t go quite as well as Ryan had hoped.
After spending the weekend with Ryan and his parents, we all went to work on the farm Monday morning. It went pretty much as expected and we used the noon break to introduce Peter to the hayloft. At first, we only performed mutual masturbation on each other, but over time we advanced to performing oral sex too. After a couple of weeks, we finally got a chance to expand our sexual repertoire.
This happened when Ryan’s parents left early one Saturday morning to go visit relatives who lived a couple hundred miles away. They were going to be spending the night with them, since it was quite a lengthy and exhausting drive, so they wouldn’t be returning until late afternoon on Sunday. This meant the three of us would have the house to ourselves for more than a day. After waiting an hour after his parents drove off, since I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened with my parents, Ryan made an announcement.
“Let the games begin,” he shouted, to let us know our boredom was about to come to an end.
It was also our cue that we were going to try our first three-way together. We hurriedly got undressed and started off with a little oral action. Peter lay on his side and Ryan moved into position to suck him off. I moved in to take Ryan into my mouth and then I moved my waist over so Peter could work on me. This meant our bodies were now in a triangular arrangement.
I always enjoyed working on Ryan’s boy cock, since he was my first, but he was also my lover. I started licking his thighs and testicles, which caused the blood to rush into Rye’s gorgeous tool. I took each of his testicles into my mouth and ran my tongue over and around the nearly hairless pair, while humming softly as I went. I knew the vibrations from my humming were amplified through those watery nuggets and sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, because I wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible.
Before I advanced to his shaft, I looked over to briefly watch my lover working on Peter’s sizable weapon and see how he was handling it. I could tell he was having some difficulty with its larger girth, but he’d worked on it a couple of times in the barn before this, so I knew he’d be alright. In the meantime, I gave Ryan the best tongue bath I could offer and licked the entire length of his member, while at the same time swirling my tongue over and around the entire circumference. I also worked on the tiny slit with my tongue for a little while first, before I swallowed it.
I then bobbed along the length of Ryan’s penis in much the same way that a child might slide his lips up and down on a Popsicle. Unlike that youngster, however, I also whipped my tongue around it at the same time and swallowed constantly to increase his pleasure. As my lips and tongue willingly stroked Ryan’s boyhood, I used my right hand to knead and massage his scrotum, as I tugged on and tickled his delicate sperm factories.
Ryan was the first to relinquish his load and soaked my throat with his hot cum, and then I quickly followed suit, as I released my seed into Peter’s mouth. Peter was the last one to climax, probably because Ryan had been having a slight bit of trouble handling his larger tool, but after we’d all orgasmed, the three of us collapsed in a tangle of body parts. We were each relishing the afterglow of our first multi-partner orgy and stayed this way for the next several minutes, until we eventually moved apart to discuss what we were going to do next event.
After talking this over for several minutes, we decided that one of us would get fucked from both ends at the same time. I ended up getting the sympathy vote, since the other two were trying to make me forget about the situation at home, so I was going to be in the middle position. Before that happened, however, we took a reasonably appropriate break, to regain our strength and get something to eat and drink.
When we returned to Ryan’s bedroom, my lover got to ram me up the butt, because I’d already given him a blowjob, so Peter moved to my head. I decided that this time, however, I would give Peter a little more than just oral sex, because I felt he had been denied the other enjoyments for long enough. I also didn’t think Ryan would question what I was doing, as long as he was present when it happened, so while Ryan bent behind me and started rimming my little rosebud, I gave Peter a lip-lock he wouldn’t soon forget and kissed him for all I was worth.
At first, Peter shied away slightly, since he’d never done this with either of us before, but he quickly relaxed and allowed me to caress and enter his mouth. I licked his lips and slid my tongue into that inviting portal, so I could explore and enjoy every object and sensation that lay within. Peter began to joust with me and our tongues battled for supremacy, but I willingly surrendered and let his muscle enter my mouth next.
After permitting him work his way around my oral orifice for a brief time, I started to suck on his tongue, and when we broke our kiss, I worked my way down and around the surface of his neck. Once I felt I’d spent enough time doing that, I slid lower and paid attention to his quarter-sized brown nipples. I flicked my tongue over the first and caused it to become erect almost instantly, and then I sucked on it like a breast-feeding baby. When I felt I had given sufficient attention to that nub, I slid across his chest and performed the same ritual on the other side. Once I finished doing that, I began to work my tongue down his abdomen until I reached his navel, and then I cleaned every square inch in and around his little outie mound.
Peter seemed to enjoy my little tongue exploration, because he sighed and panted as my journey progressed. During this time, Ryan had completely worked me over with his tongue and was using his fingers to probe and prepare me, just as I reached Peter’s rigid pole. I bathed his entire genitalia with my saliva and then repeated my humming technique on his balls, before I worked my mouth over his rock hard prick. I then began to nod up and down his stiff rod and I’m sure my movements appeared very similar to how a chicken’s head moved as it pecked corn kernels off of the ground. At the same time, I reached out with my right hand and began to tug and massage his hairy nut sac.
When I started to suck on Peter’s boyhood, Ryan had slipped his own into me and began ravaging my asshole. While he was doing this, he also reached around my waist and gripped my throbbing penis, so he could stroke it with the same vigor that he attacked my butt. My body was slowly being overpowered by the sensations from three separate regions of my body at the same time and I felt as if I my mind might explode.
As I felt the first signs of my orgasm approaching, I slid my right hand from Peter’s crotch and slipped the first index finger into my mouth, to wet it. Then, I inserted my hand between Peter’s legs and poised my finger at his anal opening and applied enough pressure to breech his sphincter. Once the entire digit had been inserted, I worked it around Peter’s velvety cavity and brushed it against his prostate whenever possible.
My mouth was the first to get its reward, when several volleys of Peter’s seed entered my throat, and then my body gave in next, as I spasmodically began spraying my boy juice all over the floor and my body. Shortly after that happened, Ryan reached the point of no return too and began pumping load after load of his hot cream deep into my quivering chute. Once again, we were momentarily weakened from our explosive releases and took a few seconds to recuperate.
Over the course of the evening and next day, we continued to change positions and explored each other from every possible position. By the time Ryan’s parents returned home, we were all totally exhausted and eager to take an extended break from our sexual activities. Ryan greeted his mom and dad and we all helped unload the car, but then Peter and I went up to Ryan’s room, so Ryan could talk to his parents alone. Several minutes later, Ryan entered the room and walked directly toward me.
“Zach. When you first came here for the summer, my mother sensed something was wrong and kept questioning me about it. She wanted to know what was the matter, so I finally told her you had had a fight with your parents before you left. I didn’t tell her what it was over, but now she figures you’re worried about what it’s going to be like when you return. She just gave me a CD she wants you to listen to, which she told me to tell you is by her favorite singer, but she also asked me to let you know the first song might help you to deal with your feelings. Why don’t you pop it in her CD player, which I brought with me, and give it a listen?”
He then handed me both items, so I walked over to plug the CD player in and loaded it up. While I was doing that, Ryan must have signaled Peter, because they both quietly slipped out of the room. This left me alone to listen, in solitude, to “The Rose,” by Bette Midler.
“Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor that leaves the soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower and you its only seed
It’s a heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance
It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance
It’s the one who won’t be taken who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
Just remember, in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow
Lies a seed that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes the rose.”
To be continued...
Posted: 11/01/13