Holy Father Pt. 01

I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath. I felt a warmth in my heart, and I knew that everything was going to be okay. I knew that my future would be a bright one, and that Father Brennan was a great teacher. I knew that I would be a good student, and that I would someday learn everything.

"Marcus, I can feel your devotion," Father Brennan said. "I can feel your dedication. I can feel the light in your eyes. We have a special relationship. I can feel it, and I know you can feel it, too."

I nodded my head, and I smiled. I felt a little buzz in my head, and I felt the little red diamonds in my wine. I closed my eyes, and I felt a slight tingling in my body. I felt a slight red sparkle in my vision, and I felt the love in the room. I felt connected to everyone.

"I can see it," Sister Ann said. "I can see the sparkle in Marcus' eyes. I can feel the love between you two. I can feel the love in the room."

"You can feel it?" I asked. "Is that normal?"

"It's beautiful," Sister Ann said. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"I feel it," Father Brennan said. "I feel the sparkle in your eyes, and I feel the love in the room. I feel it, too." The gaze of Father Brennan's soft green eyes enveloped me. "The connection between us is strong. The connection between us is special."

Characteristic of this time of my life, I was horny as all hell. Here I was, surrounded by sensuality, with Sister Ann serving me wine and Father Brennan talking to me about my feelings. With Sister Ann dressed in her black and white habit, and Father Brennan dressed in his white robe, I had a very strong urge to rip off the clothes of both of them. As if my thoughts were somehow transmitted to them, I saw them look at each other for a very quick moment, and then I saw them look back at me. I must have been just imagining it.

"What were you talking about?" I asked, trying to take my mind off of sex. "I spaced out."

"I'm talking about the connection between us," Father Brennan said. His voice was almost feminine, as if it was a gentle caress, as if it's a lover's whisper. "Designated by the cosmos."

I felt safe in this space, like I could ask him anything, even my deepest fears and secrets.

"I have a question," I ventured. "Just something I need guidance on. It's about... marriage, I guess.

"Tell me," Father Brennan said.

"A man is supposed to be with... a woman, right?" I asked. "And not... anyone else?" I was stammering. I had never expressed these sorts of questions to anyone before. "Like... he's straight. He's... he's not gay. He's... he's not bisexual."

"Sometimes," Father Brennan said. "Sometimes, yes. But not always. There are other types of relationships. Quo vadis? You're young, and I'm just the conduit for your thoughts. I'm just the teacher. I can't tell you what to do."

"I don't know what to do," I said. "Stirring up all of these things inside of me."

"It's okay," Sister Ann said. "It's okay. You're young, and I'm the same way. I know what it's like to be confused."

I looked at Sister Ann and I looked at Father Brennan. It was so hideous how beautiful they both looked. Such a contrast between the two of them, so different, so beautiful. God, how I wanted to touch them both. Sister Ann was like an angel, her face smooth and flawless. Father Brennan's eyes were an ocean of deep, murky yet crystal-clear green.

Strangely, Sister Ann and Father Brennan didn't seem to mind what I had said, the shameful secret I had implied. Lust towards another man was a sin, yet this priest and nun didn't seem to find anything wrong with me. Perhaps they were just curious about my thoughts. Maybe they were curious to learn how a young man would act out his desires.

"We all desire others," Sister Ann said. "That's a given. We're all sexual beings. Sometimes we're attracted to the same gender, sometimes we're attracted to the opposite gender. Ubiquitous desire. Anyways, don't worry about it. Just enjoy what you have."

Sister Ann's hand was resting on the table. I could see the light reflection of polished nails and soft cream flesh. It looked like the inside of a shell. This beautiful nun was so full of life, so full of love. She was such a great teacher. She was such a great guide. She made everything look so easy.

"I feel things," I said.

"I can feel Marcus' desire," Father Brennan said. "Absorb it. Feel it. Love it. Caress it. Immerse yourself in it."

I looked at Sister Ann and I looked at Father Brennan. Their eyes were holding me, and ignorant of all fear I slowly leaned in towards them. An agreement formed in my mind: I would just go with the flow and see where it led. I would just let the world burn and let the flames wash over me.

"I can feel love," I said. "Shaky love. Jittery love. Like a rollercoaster of emotions."

Thank god I had my wine.

Sister Ann and Father Brennan looked at each other, and then they looked back at me.

"Feel it," Sister Ann said. "Feel the love. Feel it pulsating. Feel it burning. Feel it penetrating. Feel it all around you."

I sat at the table and I felt something inside of me. It was warm. It was comforting. It was comforting the way starlight is comforting. I felt strong yet tender.

Father Brennan's eyes glowed. His lips were curved in a smile.

"You are the vehicle of light," Father Brennan said. "You are the vehicle of love. You are the vehicle of light." Father Brennan leaned in towards me and he kissed me on the forehead. "And you are the light that loves all light." He kissed me on the lips. Father Brennan's breath was sweet and warm, like bread baking in the oven.

Sister Ann maintained a steady look of serenity. Father Brennan looked deeply into my eyes.

"You are the vehicle of love," Father Brennan said. "And you are also the vehicle of lust." He abruptly broke his gaze. "Sister Ann and I will leave you alone now. Just sit and enjoy." Father Brennan and Sister Ann left the room, and closed the door behind them.

What happened? I sat at the table for a few moments, not sure what to do. Then, I began to feel myself getting aroused. The same way I had felt before, with Sister Ann and Father Brennan present, with them in the room. I felt a strong desire to be touched, to be kissed, to be loved. This desire was so strong that I felt my legs shaking, and they began to tremble so hard that they couldn't support my weight, and the chair alone held me up. I began panting. In my mind, I was seeing the two figures of Father Brennan and Sister Ann, and I was imagining them getting undressed, wrapping their legs around each other and making love.

I wobbled myself upright, propping myself up with the back of the chair. I looked at the closed door. I was on fire. I was filled with this sexual energy that wanted to be released. Spicy and sweet at the same time. Sinful and beautiful, filled with all of this sexual tension, filled with all of this sexual yearning. I leaned my hands on the table and I stood up, and with my hands open and my eyes closed, I felt myself running my hands over my body. My sweater was made of a silky material, and it felt good to the touch. A twitch, a subtle pull as my body moved, as if I were a puppet pulled on a string. I felt my waist and my hips. The revolution of my hips was a sensual dance.

The room was lit by soft light of two lamps on the edge of the table. One lamp was bright and white, and the other dim and orange in color. I felt my chest and nipples through the soft sweater, feeling the silky material slide over them as I rubbed. The sweater was so thin that my fingertips could feel the softness of my skin through it, of my nipples. I let my hands wander over the smooth material of my sweater, feeling it slide between my fingers.

I pushed the sweater up to my shoulders and pulled it over my head, exposing my bare torso. I was pretty hairy for a 19 year old guy, as I'd realized often in the locker room. My abs were forming, but they were still soft and smooth, with only the barest hint of definition. My nipples were dark, and I ran my hands over them, shivering. I felt my body, the way it skinned up, the way it did a little dance for my fingers. Up and down.

I undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Couldn't help myself. I had to touch myself. A town of lights... my body was the vehicle of lust. I had to feel this thing that was my body, that was me. I pulled down my pants, my underwear, and I stepped out of them. I pulled off my socks. I felt the softness of my legs, the softness of my belly, the slight thickness of my chest. My cock was hard, throbbing. My shaft was thick. I could see my shadow on the floor as I stood there... and I felt beautiful.

Now naked, I went on my knees. I felt the smooth, soft play of the carpet against my legs. Like a velvet glove around rippling flesh. I was naked. I was all alone. I was the vehicle of lust.

Managing a trembling hand, I grabbed my cock and I began to rub. I was so hard. So ready. I was like a teenage boy in his room, rubbing himself. I felt my hand get slick with my pre-cum. My thick pubic hair, the softness of my balls, the fatness of my dick. I rubbed up and down. I rubbed my machine, my cock. My mind was empty, empty with lust.

I felt myself getting closer and closer to orgasm. A burning sensation began in my body, in my groin. My breath was getting shorter with each moment that I stroked my cock. My cock was so hard and so thick... so hot and so wet with pre-cum. I felt a twinge... a tremor. A bolt of energy surged through my body, a surge of ejaculation. My body strained, my muscles tensed, and a streak of ecstasy coursed through me. It was a bolt of lightning, a shower of divine fire. My cock began to spasm, and a stream of cum shot out from my cock, squirting thick ropes of my seed over the plush carpet I was knelt upon. The carpet was soft and velvety, now pooled with the soft, white clouds of my cum.

Youthful lust is a drug, a tangible vapour that fills your body with its seductive fumes. You can sniff it in the air, or taste it on your lips, or feel its effect on your skin. I lay back, back on the soft carpet, with my legs outstretched. The two lamps on the edge of the table were like two shining eyes, watching me. There were no windows in the room. I was in the innermost part of the rectory.

I heard a gentle knock. "Are you finished? Finished praying?" came Sister Ann's voice softly through the door.

I was jolted out of my trance. "One second," I stammered. I quickly started to pull all my clothes back on. "Just a second," I said again.

I tied the belt around my waist. I zipped up my pants. I re-buttoned my shirt.

Wiggly and apprehensive, I opened the door and saw Sister Ann and Father Brennan standing in the hall.

"We were wondering what had become of you," Sister Ann said.

"I was... praying," I said. "I was lost in prayer."

"We understand, young man," Father Brennan said. "You must feel the need to commune with the divine."

"Yes, absolutely... absolutely."

"Sister Ann and I will need to be preparing for vespers now. But this was a special day, Marcus. Thank you."

Father Brennan showed me back to the front door of the rectory. Madly shaking my hands as I went, I said, "Thank you... thank you for... for... getting me... started."

"Have a nice day."

Outside again, I walked home to the dorm in a daze. What was that? What had happened there? What had I done?

And what had happened to me?

---

I awoke the next Sunday to the smell of my roommate, Spencer, making coffee. With exams coming up, I hadn't been back to the church or rectory since the prior weekend and all that happened then. I wasn't sure whether I should go to the service this morning. Fantastic thoughts and feelings had been stirred up in me over the previous weekend, and it was probably best to just let them rest. On the other hand, if I wanted to get myself together, I needed to address these things.

Spencer was in the bathroom when I got up, so I dressed quickly. I grabbed my sweater from the foot of my bed, paid attention to my hair, and headed out. I took the bus to church.

This time, the service had already started when I got there. Father Brennan gave a sermon, but I didn't pay attention to it. I was still reeling from the previous weekend, still processing it all. A drawer in my mind was open, and the events of the weekend were still jostling to get out.

The church was as I remembered it, but the lights were off and instead the sanctuary was flooded with candle light. It was mid-morning, but the church provided enough darkness for the effect to be dramatic. The candles burnt with a golden light, and I could see their shadows on the walls and the pews.

Sister Ann joined me during the hymn, and we stood together. She had a black dress on and a white neckerchief. She winked at me. I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. I thought about the previous weekend. I wondered what Father Brennan was thinking. It had been a long time since I'd felt such a divine and overwhelming sense of connection with another person.

I did not know what I was feeling. Would I even be able to explain to anyone what I was feeling?

Father Brennan came down the aisle at that point and concluded the service with a prayer for peace around the world.

I was the only one who came up to Father Brennan afterwards, so I went up to him. He saw me approaching and came to meet me.

"We're all done here," he said, "so if you're interested, you're welcome to come to my office."

"I'd like that," I said.

"Come on then," he said. "I'll show you my office."

We went out of the church, down the stairs, and back towards the rectory. His office was a different room from the one of last weekend. A beautiful French landscape painting hung on the wall. A bookshelf lined the other wall, and a large oak desk sat in the center of the room across from a window. The domed ceiling had a beautiful chandelier hanging from it. The day outside was overcast. The rain clouds were still low on the horizon, but I could see it had stopped raining.

"I'm afraid you missed some of the service," Father Brennan said. "I gave some more of a sermon than I normally would."

"It was good," I said. "Thank you."

"So, what can I do for you?" he said. There was a mischievousness in his eyes.

"I have a little bit of a confession to make," I said, nervously.

"What is it?" he said. "You know that if you have a confession to make, I will keep it a secret."

"I have a confession to make, a little one," I said. "But it's kind of... personal."

"I'm listening," he said.

"Ever since the night of the service... since last Sunday, you know, our conversation with Sister Ann and the vehicle of light and all, I've been really confused about something. I don't really know what I'm attracted to, or what I like. I like guys, or I like girls, I like both or neither. I know this is kind of what we were talking about before, but I'm even more confused now. That room, our conversation, the wine, all of that was... it was special. Weird."

"It was," he said. "But I know you've been searching for this. What is it that confuses you?"

I was at a loss for words, still reeling from the previous weekend. I stood there in Father Brennan's office, unsure of myself. I thought about my life, my struggles with the sexual identity. It had been a long time since I'd been attracted to someone, and I'd been searching for that feeling for a long time. I didn't know how to put it into words.

"I don't know," I said. "I want this, but I'm not sure what it is. I've been trying to find a word to describe it, but I don't know."

"Do you want to try to relate it to a physical sensation?" he said. "A physical arousal?"

"Yeah... maybe," I said. I was still a little confused. "It feels like my body is on fire."

"In what way?" he said.

"I don't know exactly," I said. "I want to say it's like my body is on fire and it turns me on. But it's not just my body. It's my... my... my mind and my heart. It's my heart and my mind and my... my balls. All of my body is on fire."

I was becoming rather worked up as I spoke. I was needing to express myself, and my body was responding. My face was flushed red. My heart was pounding.

"Do you feel sexually aroused?" Father Brennan said. "Do you feel like your body is on fire and that turns you on?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Okay," he said. "It looks like you are finally ready to make the step of confession."

"I am?" I said. I felt very embarrassed. I was still not sure if this was what I wanted.

"Yes, you are," he said. "And you are welcome to do it here. No one will hear you. No one will know. I'll be your confessor. I'll protect you."

I was still getting ready to say yes, when I looked up at Father Brennan. My words dried in my mouth. His eyes were penetrating. I felt the heat building in my body. It was like my body was on fire, but in a different way than I expected.

"I want to say yes," I said. "I want to do this. But, I'm still interested in what you said about it being personal. I'm not sure I believe in confession. I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to confess."

"I'm not trying to get you to confess anything," he said. "But if you come here to me with the intention of using the confessional, then I will protect you, and be your confessor. You can tell me anything."

"Okay," I said. The sky outside was darkening, ready to rain. I discovered a new feeling, a feeling of being protected, being protected from judgment. "All right. How do I start?"

"Go back to what you were saying. Tell me how it feels to be on fire, to be aroused, to be turned on."

I took a deep breath. "Roomy," I said.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"It's like roomy," I said. "Prayerful. It's like I'm in a roomy spot, turned on, and it's God-like. It's like I'm experiencing prayerful arousal."

"Sounds like you're ready to make the step now," he said. "All right. Now, close your eyes. Take a moment to come into your body."

I closed my eyes. I felt the tension in my body. I felt the energy building, becoming more intense. I sensed Father Brennan's energy. My whole body was pulsating. I felt a deep inner need. It was strong, and growing stronger.

"This is going to feel a little weird, but it will be safe," said Father Brennan. "All right, I'm going to put my hand on your back. I'm going to sit down with you."

I could feel him pulling up a chair, sitting down. I could feel him behind me, my eyes still closed. Noisy rain started to come down outside. Father Brennan's hand touched my back, ever so gently. His fingers were like Tibetan prayer flags, or gauzy rose petals softly flutter. He slowly rubbed across my back, from my neck to my shoulders.

"The place where I'm touching is in the center of your body," he said. "It's the center of your body. It's where you feel your deepest, most powerful feelings. When you feel this, you know it is the correct place."

The rain was becoming more intense. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now," I said.

"With my hand on your back," he said, "take a breath in. And then, imagine a ball of light in your chest."

I converted the description. "A rose-colored ball of light," I said. "It's in my chest, in my body, in my heart."

"Good," he said. "Go to the place where you are. Go to the place where you are on fire, where you are aroused, where you are turned on."

This time I didn't have to convert. It was there. The sensation was strong.

"Where are you on fire?" he said.

"I'm on fire... between my legs... between my legs," I said. It felt improper to say but I wanted to speak the truth.

"There you are," he said. He pressed the back of his hand against my shoulder, moving up. "I'm just rubbing your shoulder."

He put his arm around my shoulders, gently pulling me inward. His hand glided up my neck, across my head, rubbing my head. The sensation was overwhelming. I couldn't speak.