His Surrender: Confession

 His Surrender: Confession by Lou Bealy

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Contains dubious consent and religious references

There was a knock on the office door. Anthony looked up from his book and said, “Come in!” He smiled at the older man who entered. The shorter man looked to be in his early sixties, wearing a nylon tracksuit over a thin frame. He had short gray hair that was still quite thick and full. He had a thick neck, strong jaw, and wide shoulders, despite being somewhat on the slim side. Anthony recognized him as a relative newcomer, having only been to a few services.

“Father Anthony,” the older man acknowledged Anthony with a chuckle. “Strange to call such a young man ‘father’.”

Anthony laughed along with him. “Yes, I suppose so. You could call me ‘Padre’ if that makes you feel better.”

“How about Anthony?” the man said and sat down. He propped his feet up on the desk and leaned back in the padded chair.

“Um, that would be a bit unusual. How about-”

“So Anthony, I’d like to do a confession?”

“Um- of course.” Anthony was a bit surprised at how forward the man was but he did not want to refuse him if he was in need. “Just let me grab my things and I’ll meet you there.”

“Can’t we do it here?” the man asked, leaning farther back in his chair. He groaned as he stretched his legs. Anthony couldn’t help but notice the sizable bulge in the front of the older man’s crotch. Once he noticed it, it was hard to ignore.

“I suppose we could,” Anthony answered and finally looked away from the impressive lump. Why had he been staring at it that long? “Um, m-most people prefer to use the booth while making their confession, but you may choose to do it face to face if you wish.” He had planned to spend the evening studying but he certainly couldn’t turn one of the flock away, especially if they were in need.

“Good. Anyway, I have something I need to get off of my chest.”

“We have to do this right.” Father Anthony cleared his throat. He signed the cross upon his forehead and chest with the man joining in to at the last moment, touching his own shoulder.”Oh heavenly father who has infinite mercy, bless those that have sinned with the courage to repent and confess their sins in the name of Jesus Christ our savior.” He paused for a moment and then turned to the man, who had a bemused expression. What is your name, my son?”

He gave Anthony a bemused look before answering, “I’m Gene.”

Anthony tried to hide his embarrassment. “Gene, when was the last time you gave confession?”

“I don’t think I ever have,” the older man replied, picking lint from his nylon jacket. “So this would be a first.”

“So before you start you would say, ‘bless me father for I have sinned’,” Anthony prompted.

“So I’ve got his problem,” Gene explained. “When I see something I want- how should I put this-” his face scrunched as he thought for a moment before continuing, “I have a hard time resisting the urge to just… you know, take it.”

“As I am sure you are becoming aware, that is not an attitude that will breed success in life,” Anthony responded. “Nor is it a very humble one. God loves a humble man, not the ambitious one. As the book of-”

“Yeah, it doesn’t help that people tend to give me what I want.” Gene leaned back in his chair until he was practically horizontal and looking at the ceiling. He was precariously balanced on two legs, rocking back and forth without even paying attention. His palm slid down the front of his pants, rubbing the large lump between his legs, and continued, “I guess I have issues with self-control.”

“And what sort of problem with self-control? Not enough of it, I assume?” Anthony asked, though he was already sure he knew where this was going. He couldn’t help but watch as the bulge in the older man’s crotch expanded down his leg, the shape becoming more and more obvious.

The older man frowned and shook his head, he stared off into space for a moment and muttered, “Never enough.”

“Could you be a bit more specific? How does this get you into trouble? Lack of self-control itself is not the sin, of course.”

Gene nodded in agreement. His eyes swept across Anthony’s body with a look of hunger that made the young priest uncomfortable.

“What is it that you, ‘just take’?” Anthony asked.

The older man shook his head again. “I guess it may be easier to just give you an example.”  He reached between his legs to adjust his package again. Anthony noticed how big it had become. Was the guy sporting a hardon?

“Very well,” Anthony said and gestured for his guest to continue.

“When I see a hot young guy… let’s just say that I can’t help myself,” Gene smiled. “I have to have him. Just yesterday, I had a young college kid on my massage table, and… well I gave him a full body massage.” He chuckled, staring off into space to reminisce. 

Anthony let that hang for a moment, a bit surprised at the older man’s bluntness. “You know homosexuality is a sin,” he said calmly.

“If that’s true, then why did he make guys so hot?” Gene asked. “Like the young man on my table. Or yourself.” Gene locked eyes with him. ”You’re telling me that God made me think your baby face, fit young body, tight butt, and big arms are sexy but I’m not supposed to do anything about it?” He put his feet on the floor and leaned in, holding his head up his hands, and resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at Anthony, seemingly waiting for a reaction.

Anthony blushed and turned away, nervously running his fingers through his curly black hair. As flattered as he was, this was inappropriate. But he had not been trained how to handle this. Eventually, he turned back and answered, “N-no. You’re supposed to resist temptation.” He watched as Gene rubbed his erection through his slacks and momentarily lost his train of thought.

It was so big.

Anthony had always been a bit prideful about his own size. Even being a virgin and a devout holy man devoted to the cloth, he was not too sheltered to know that nine inches was well above average. But even he was left gawking at Gene’s dick which absolutely dwarfed his own.

“Father?” Gene asked, breaking the spell. He grinned, obviously aware of what Anthony had been staring at.

Anthony cleared his throat and pulled at his collar, looking away again. He was getting flustered and unable to concentrate. Being new at actually leading a church and having to guide a flock, he got nervous from time to time but this was different. There was an air of awkwardness and unease that he couldn’t explain. The predatory way Gene continued to look at him, his own inability to call the man out on it.

“Temptation is a test from God, one of many ways he allows us to prove our devotion and desire to change and walk the righteous path,” Anthony said, still looking at the wall. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He silently said a prayer before turning back to Gene.

Gene chuckled, shaking his head. “Mhmm. You’re going to help me with that, right Father?” Gene straightened up and reached across the desk to grasp Anthony’s hand, giving it a good squeeze.

“Y-yes,” Anthony replied, resisting the instinct to pull his hand away. “Yes of course.”

Gene held on a moment longer and his fingers gently rubbed Anthony’s palm before letting go. He stood up and adjusted his massive erection so it slid up into his waistband and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Anthony managed to say before Gene made it out the door.“We are not done. I wanted to read some scripture with you. It is also not enough to merely confess,” he explained as the door swung open. “You also must state your desire to repent your sins.”

“I’ll see you, Father.” He stepped through the door and pulled it shut behind him.

Anthony was left bewildered and ashamed. He stood up and adjusted his own erection in his pants. Reaching towards his bookshelf for his old weathered Bible, he said another quiet prayer to god for resilience and strength.

* * *

“Thank you for seeing me again,” Gene said and sat down in the same wooden chair across the desk from Anthony. “Father.” He smiled wide and leaned back in the chair. He was wearing a teeshirt and tight athletic shorts that stopped at his knee. The tight material of his shorts hugged every contour of his body, displaying his sizable male bulge for all to see. 

Had he come into church service dressed like that, Anthony wondered? He peeled his eyes off of the older man’s crotch and made eye contact with Gene who raised his eyebrows and smiled wide. He had caught Anthony again.

He nervously glanced away for a moment and took a deep breath before turning back.

“What can I do for you?” Anthony finally asked. “If you wanted to do confession again, I must insist that we do it in the confessional booth.”

“Oh?” Gene asked innocently. “Why is that?”

Anthony hesitated. “In light of what you said about me yesterday, I think it would be best if-”

Gene crossed his thin but toned arms and frowned. “I thought you said I got to choose whether to do it face to face or not.”

Anthony closed his eyes and silently prayed for strength and then turned back to Gene. “Yes, I did say that.”

“Well, then that’s what I want.”

“Perhaps I could call someone else,” Anthony said, feeling like he was almost begging. “There is a deacon I know that-”

“No.” Gene flatly stated. “No, I think it should be you.” He leaned back in the chair again, his legs spread. The outline of his cock pressed into the fabric of his shorts, showing right through.

Anthony held his breath, his eyes glued to that bulge that was already growing.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” Gene challenged. He stroked the tip of the shaft pushing its way down the leg of his shorts.

“N-no.” Anthony jerked his head up, tearing his gaze from the man’s crotch. He made eye contact again and tried to speak with some authority. “No. And that is highly inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” He smiled. “Forgive me.” Reaching down to the leg of his shorts, he pulled it up and allowed his huge penis to spring free. “It’s just so uncomfortable, you know?”

Anthony gulped and adjusted his own package, straining against the cotton fabric of in his tight underwear. He wanted to chastise the man, admonish him and command him to cease exposing himself.

But he couldn’t. The words just died in his throat. He stared while Gene began stroking the length of his shaft. The other hand wrapped around the huge head and rubbed the top with his thumb, which looked tiny next to it.

“Yeah, I bet you know,” Gene moaned. “I saw yesterday when you got up. You’ve got quite the animal caged there.” He spat in his lap and rub the glob of spit onto the head of his cock, mixing with the small bead of precum.

Anthony sat spellbound and watched as the man’s hands picked up speed, though they looked almost feeble, like he needed more hands to wield the huge monster.

Huge didn’t even describe it. It was as thick as his muscled forearm, with a bulbous purple head that had swollen to the size of an orange. The shaft was longer than the length of both his hands and so thick he couldn’t encircle it with his fingers. It put Anthony’s impressive nine-inch beast to absolute shame. Even hairless and smooth as it was, it was the most masculine thing he had ever seen in his life.

“You like my cock, don’t you?” he gently inquired with a groan.

“N-no, of course not,’ Anthony shook his head vigorously. “I am a man of the cloth. And homosexuality is a sin.”

“Even a priest knows to respect the bigger cock. And I bet you don’t see one bigger than yours too often do you, Father?” he challenged.

Anthony shook his head. It felt so strange for the man to call him that, and in this state. “You can stop calling me that if you don’t want to.” He stared at the beautiful organ between the older man’s smooth legs. “You could call me Anthony.” He wasn’t sure why he gave that little bit of power away but he had done it so naturally and without thinking.

“Anthony,” he growled and stood up from his chair. “Here it comes…”

Anthony sat there and watched, captivated by shock and awe until Gene emitted a low guttural moan, signaling his impending orgasm. “Mmm…” he groaned, his hands going into overdrive, sliding along the huge shaft in almost a blur. He started to twitch and shake as the head of his cock visibly swelled. Then glob after glob of thick white cum shot from the end of his cock, spraying all over Anthony and his desk.

* * *

The next time Gene came to visit Father Anthony, he did apologize again for the mess but proceeded much the same as he had the last time. Anthony wanted to say something, to call Gene out for what he was clearly doing. But he didn’t. They just went through the motions where they acted like Gene was going to confess but ultimately the same thing would happen. Gene would whip out his monster cock and masturbate while Anthony watched. At least he was prepared for the mess with a towel but he still found it humiliating and confusing. Each time he would endeavor to tell the older man that he truly needed to confess and repent. But the words would die in his throat.

Instead, he would chastise himself for allowing it to continue and for the strange, confusing feelings he experienced when Gene looked at him or exposed himself. A mix of guilt over not even trying to help the man and his strange feelings kept him almost paralyzed in indecision. So he did nothing, except provide his tacit approval for the inappropriate behavior to continue.

“Bless me, father for I have sinned,” Gene grinned at him from his regular perch, leaning back in the chair across from Anthony.

“Gene,” Anthony said with a sigh. “This has to stop.”

“You should show me yours,” Gene said as stroked his bulge. Even clothed, Gene’s cock had some kind of power over him. He could already see it in his mind, naked and fully erect. He didn’t have to imagine very long before he pulled out his gigantic dick. It was mostly flaccid but still over ten inches long already.

“Gene,” Anthony said again, trying not to sound whiny. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Sure we can,” Gene reassured him. “C’mon. You’ve seen mine.” He smiled wide. “It’s only fair if you let me see yours.” His hand slid to the end of his shaft and squeezed his head until a bead of precum formed at the tip. “I know you’re hard.”

Anthony coughed and looked away, unable to respond.

“Anthony. You know you can’t resist,” Gene argued. “You think you’re still in control here, but you have to know that you aren’t. Your desires are taking over. Your baser instincts.”

“Gene, this is wrong,” Anthony insisted, his voice cracking in his desperation. “God teaches us to resist our baser instincts.”

“Deep down, you want to give in. To give up this control you think you have,” Gene asserted. Anthony heard the chair creek and turned back to see Gene leaning in. “Show me,” he whispered. “You’re hard just thinking about my cock, aren’t you?”

Anthony’s quivering hand slid down the front of his pants. He cupped the erection straining against the confinement of his slacks and tight briefs. His hand remained for a moment hiding the bulge and his shame. But he knew that Gene had already seen it. Many times.

He did not know why seeing Gene’s cock was so mesmerizing. It shouldn’t be. He gripped his rosary, telling himself that he could resist these impure thoughts, that he should resist.

But he couldn’t. He just stared at it, gawking as it slowly grew from Gene’s ministrations until it was at its full thirteen-inch glory, glistening with spit and precum. It was almost beautiful. It even exuded a manly smell; an earthy musk filled his sinuses, making it even harder to concentrate.

“Anthony,” Gene said, now becoming an admonishment. 

The young priest continued to stare, his hand creeping toward his fly.

“That’s it,” Gene soothed. “It can’t be comfortable keeping that beast in its cage.”

Anthony swallowed hard and gripped his zipper between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, he pulled it down, until his flap was totally open. He hesitated, knowing this was his last chance to stop himself from this sinful path.

Gene licked his lips and stared between Anthony’s legs. He gave a short nod. 

With a whimper, Anthony yanked his zipper down and reached through the flap to pull his painfully hard erection free. He gave a deep sigh, and waited for a moment, feeling the cool air on his exposed sex. Again he looked up at Gene, whose hands were busy gliding up and down his own thick shaft as he stood from the chair.

“Yeah, there it is.” Gene stood over the still seated Anthony, his cock inches from the priest’s face. Anthony turned his head away, worried that Gene was going to shove it in his mouth- and even more worried that he wouldn’t stop him. Instead, the older man reached down and grasped the priest’s bare cock, wrapping his hand almost all the way around its considerable girth.

Anthony sucked his breath through his teeth. “I’ve never-”

“Done this before?” Gene asked, pulling on Anthony’s dick until he got the hint and stood up. Gene moved in, sliding his erection alongside Anthony’s. The soft, warm skin of Gene’s cock pulsed against his own as Gene’s hands encircled them. Thrusting against him, Gene gripped their cocks between his hands and groaned. Gene stepped away and slapped his thick cock down onto Anthony’s a couple of times, teasing his sensitive flesh. He stepped back in again and grabbed their shafts between his hands, pressing them together again. 

“Oh Lord,” Anthony exclaimed. His head swooned and he leaned in, his arms encircling Gene’s shoulders for support. His own hips began seemingly jerking on their own. His moans joined Gene’s soft grunts, broadcasting their illicit contact for anyone within earshot. He looked down at their cocks, the way Gene’s sat atop his and completely obscured it. It looked like Gene was rubbing one huge slab of man meat that connected them.

“That’s it,” Gene moaned in his ear. He leaned down and spat on the writhing flesh between them. “Just relax. Let this beast take over...” He caressed Anthony’s quivering sex, his smooth fingers knew just where to touch.

Anthony began to twitch and writhe, his body tensing and shaking from unfamiliar sensations. There was a kind of pressure building and the higher it got, the more the rest of the world melted away. His body went on autopilot, thrusting in short strokes against the velvet of Gene’s hands and the warm iron of his cock. They came together moments later, their grunts and cries filling the quiet rectory, though thankfully no one came to check.

Anthony thrashed and bucked in Gene’s solid grip, his first orgasm since he had taken the path of the cloth years ago. He felt like he emptied himself onto Gene’s inner thigh. His cum mixed with Gene’s, his fingers rubbed the thick goo on their shafts. The feeling was not unlike a baptism. He feared he was a new man and could never go back to what he was.

Gene grunted, finally releasing Anthony from his grip. He wordlessly crammed his softening cock back into his shorts and left the room. Anthony was left standing there, feeling soiled by the cum, spit, and sweat he had to clean up before leaving the office. All of the feelings of excitement and arousal had fled only leaving shame and disgust in their wake.

* * *

“Bless me father, for I have sinned,” Gene said, standing next to Anthony’s chair. The huge cock hanging over the waistband of his sweatpants throbbed inches from the priest’s face. “Open your mouth. And let my higher power bless you.”

Anthony was having a hard time remembering how he had let himself be lured into this debauchery. Weeks of Gene visiting Anthony in his office after church service and having a little private session that they still referred to as “confession”. That’s what the sign on the door said they were doing anyway. And in Anthony’s mind, he still justified it by thinking that he would say something to help Gene- and himself- to find the righteous path. It was still confession. Anthony would admonish him, he would try and resist but it always ended up the same way.

“Let me bless your lips,” Gene whispered, taking another half-step forward so the tip was right next to his mouth. The manly musk was almost intoxicating. He stared at the impressive organ, his mouth-watering.

“Gene, this is so wrong,” Anthony insisted, his eyes glued to the massive man meat.

“You say that every time and yet here we are.” Gene grabbed the shaft and swung his cock, hitting Anthony in the lips with an audible SMACK.  “Now shut up and use your mouth for what God intended.”

Anthony’s face was bright red. The shame was utterly palpable but his cock strained in his pants, urging him on. Slowly, his jaw lowered, as if on its own. Anthony wanted to resist but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t stop himself. He had to taste it. As wicked a sin, as it was, he simply couldn’t help himself. Or perhaps it was because of the severity of the sin.

“That’s it…” Gene cooed. He slapped Anthony’s cheek a few more times, smearing a bit of precum onto his clean-shaven face. “You know what you have to do, to show your proper homage to a higher power.”

Anthony’s eye grew glassy and he stared off into space. His head moved a little lower until his mouth was right over the tip of Gene’s rod. He could feel the heat emanating from it and could practically taste the manly musk. Gene didn’t wait any longer, grabbing the back of his neck and forcing his head down. The cock slipped between his lips, slid atop his tongue until it filled his entire mouth. He found himself pushing his own head forward, forcing even more of it between his lips, stretching his jaw to accommodate the sheer girth.

The taste on his tongue, the smell permeating his sinuses, the feeling of it swelling to hardness in his mouth, was intoxicating. He almost didn’t notice the pain and discomfort from coping with the enormous size of Gene’s cock.

“Whoa,” Gene admonished. “Slow down.” He held Anthony’s head in place for a moment. “Just get used to it. You haven’t even gotten yours out yet.”

Anthony had almost forgotten, he was so absorbed in the task at hand-the wonderful cock right in front of him- that he had almost forgotten about his own. His own hands frantically scrambled with his belt and zipper, desperate to release his straining erection. The cool air hit his glistening glans. He sighed, his fingers encircling his own considerable girth and drawing the skin back, releasing a torrent of precum, dripping in one long strand to his chair.

“That's it, yes...” Gene groaned. After a few moments, his grip loosened and he slowly drew his hips back. The bulbous head slid back along Anthony’s tongue and almost out of his mouth, perched just behind his teeth. Then he slid back in until the spongy glans pressed into the rear of his mouth again, cutting off his air again.

Part of Anthony took it as a challenge, to be able to continue to fit it in his mouth, to breathe. But his eyes watered and his jaw ached as Gene picked up speed. Before long, the older man was fucking his face with abandon.

“Mmm. Mmm…” Anthony groaned on the tube of flesh in his mouth. He felt drunk, his head swirled and fingers tingled as they slid up and down his sensitive, twitching shaft.

“You’re getting too excited,” Gene admonished with a chuckle. “If you don’t slow down you’re breathing it could get dangerous.” The cock was yanked from his mouth with a sharp turn of Gene’s hips. 

Anthony whimpered as it slid out, he tried following with his head but he was too slow. He stood there for a moment with his mouth open, watching Gene jerk until he exploded all over Anthony, copious globs of warm sticky cum landing on his robe, face, and some in his mouth. Without thinking, he swallowed it down, relishing the salty flavor. He came a moment later, spraying ropes of cum all over and adding to the mess. He cursed himself when he saw he had left his prized Bible on his desk, where he had indiscriminately shot a load.

“Consider that communion,” Gene whispered, reaching down and grabbing Anthony’s face in his hand. He turned the young man’s face toward his own to make eye contact. His hand slid along the priest’s cheek to wipe a glob from below Anthony’s eye with his thumb.

Anthony looked up at Gene, feelings of shame beginning to overwhelm him again. But before he could bring himself to say a word, the older man was gone.

* * *

It became a weekly ritual. Church service would finish. Anthony would wait in his office for a few minutes, praying for strength and resolve. Gene would enter a few minutes later- putting the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door in the process. They would go through the motions of beginning a confession but it would not be long before Gene had his pants around his ankles and Anthony on his knees, worshipping at the altar of the Huge Cock. His shame only magnified the eroticism of his addiction and his insatiable arousal.

During this time, he specifically gave sermons about self-control, about shame, and about repentance. He wanted to perhaps convince Gene to stop in a way he couldn’t privately. Maybe he was trying to convince himself that he could somehow put a stop to it. But he never could.

His depravity had reached such a low that he was hardly even phased when Gene pulled the magnificent cock from his mouth and told him to bend over.

“Gene, no,” he begged. He wanted to say it was a sin. He wanted to say that it was wrong for the two of them to keep doing this. All he could say was, “It won’t fit.”

“Nonsense, we just have to loosen you up,” Gene said and pulled a plastic cylinder of lube from his sweatpants pocket. He forcefully pushed the priest towards his desk.

Anthony leaned over, arching his back to stick his behind out as he leaned on the wooden desk. He gasped when he felt a slimy finger probe at his backside. He whimpered, feeling his tight hole stretched to accommodate the wiggling digit. It felt strange and wrong… but erotic, letting Gene completely have his way.

And the older man seemed to know just where to hit as he plumbed the depths of the young priest. He was groaning, feeling the strange and novel yet pleasurable sensation of being stretched open and his prostate being stimulated.

“There we go,” Gene murmured. “I think you’re ready now.” He stepped out of his sweatpants and rubbed the length of his massive shaft. A bead of precum had already formed at the tip.

Anthony looked over his shoulder, his face twisted in horror as he laid eyes on the bulbous purple head atop the huge organ that the silver fox was going to try and fit inside him. “Please,” he begged. “It’s going to hurt…”

“You know what they say,” Gene chuckled. “Spare the rod, spoil the boy.” He laughed hard, shoving Anthony back down so he was looking ahead. “Or something like that.”

“Ah!” Anthony gasped when he felt his hole being stretched around the velvet steel invading his insides. He felt like it was splitting him in half as it slowly inched its way in.

“Shhh…” he pushed the priest face down into the desk. “Relax. Push out like you’re shitting.”

“G-uh!” Anthony groaned, his body shuddering as more and more cockflesh disappeared into his hole.

After much effort and patience, eventually, Anthony groaned as he felt Gene’s smooth ballsack resting against his own. Gene grabbed around his waist, pulling him tight against the older man’s hard frame. Anthony gripped with white knuckles onto the top of the desk.

“Holy… holy…” he whimpered, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“I told you when I first came into this room…” Gene whispered in his ear. “That I take what I want…” He grasped the priest’s hips and began to fuck him in earnest. “And I knew I would get it eventually.”

Anthony couldn’t respond. The pain and discomfort began to give way to pleasure he had never even imagined. His own cock was straining against the desk, leaking precum like a faucet.

“Even a priest couldn’t resist me, isn’t that right, father?” his huge dick drilled into Anthony, absolutely impaling him.

“Stop calling me that…” he whispered back. “ He couldn’t bear to hear it any longer, especially in that moment.

“Well, Anthony,” the older man laughed. “You can call me daddy…”

“Fuck me, daddy…”

End?

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