Chapter 2: Cockboy

I wanted to run away, but I was too little and too scared and too ... everything. Or not enough maybe. Being thirteen seemed like a punishment and knowing I was gay only made it worse. Before I'd met Gary, I sorta thought about girls once in awhile, but not anymore. I didn't hate them or anything; they just didn't interest me at all. I found myself thinking about boys, the ones I knew at St. Luke's, and which ones I thought were cute or handsome or just nice.

A couple months went by and I'd written Gary a bunch of letters, but he never wrote me back. I still loved him, but I felt kind of angry too. If he didn't want to talk to me, I figured he could have told me. Probably the guy just didn't want any trouble because I was so much younger than him. I wasn't really sure why that mattered since he hadn't done anything except make me feel special, but I wasn't dumb either. I knew someone would get mad if they knew what Gary and me had been doing. I just wished he'd written me back is all, if only to say goodbye again.

When I turned fourteen, I didn't feel any different. Except for the cake and a bunch of kids I only sort of knew, it was just another day for me. I woke up, went to school, came back and wished I was someplace else. Anyplace else. I wanted a boyfriend too. I wanted sex. It seemed like every five minutes my dick would get hard for no reason at all and I found myself looking at the other boys more and more, wishing I could kiss one of them and just hug him. It didn't even matter which one, that's how lonely I felt.

I guess this part of my life started on a Saturday when I went to confession. Usually I just made up stuff, like little sins that would get me a Hail Mary or two, or else I'd be real vague and say I'd been having mean thoughts about someone. I never told Father John my real sins because that would have been kind of embarrassing. But on this one particular Saturday, I dunno. Maybe I was bored or something. Maybe I was tired of lying all the time. Or more likely, I just really needed to confess.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it's been a week since my last confession," I said quickly, feeling my heart go a little faster because I'd already made up my mind.

"Okay," he said. "The Lord's listening."

I'd been going to confession every Saturday since my confirmation two years before, so you'll understand if Father John sounded a little casual about it. He probably got bored too.

"Uh, I lied to Sister Francine about my homework," I said. "I told her I lost it, but I didn't even do it."

"Alright. Go on."

"Well, um ... I played with myself, Father." I held my breath as everything seemed to get really quiet for a few seconds.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, uh ... You know ... I touched it ... My thing ... I played with it."

"Did you masturbate?" Father John whispered. "Last night?"

"Yeah," I breathed.

"Was that the first time?"

"Huh? No," I said with a nervous giggle. "I do it every night."

"I see."

"Is that a sin?" I wondered.

"What do you think about when you ... masturbate?" he asked, leaning close to the wooden lattice between us.

"I don't know, um..." I hesitated because once I said it, I couldn't ever take it back.

"You can tell me," Father John said. "This is a confessional."

"I know, but ... See, uh ... I think about boys mostly."

"Oh."

"Like kissing other boys."

"What else?"

"Uhhh..." I narrowed my eyes and figured that was about everything I needed to say. I mean, I'd told someone I was gay and I didn't know if I felt better or not, but I felt relieved by it. I'd confessed my biggest secret and it was over and ... Wasn't that enough?

"What else do you do with those boys?" the priest asked. "Do you think about touching them?"

"Sometimes," I admitted slowly. "I think about touching their ... private parts and..."

"Their cocks?" he whispered and I jerked backwards with surprise.

"I, uh ... I'd better go..."

"No. Sit right there and talk to me," Father John whispered, but he might as well have been yelling. It wasn't a suggestion.

"Yes, Father," I replied with a hard swallow.

"Do you want to touch their cocks?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to kiss another boy's cock?"

"Sometimes."

"Tell me about that," he ordered gently. "What do you want to do?"

"I just want to kiss him first," I whispered. "Kiss his mouth and touch his body all over. I want to touch his, uh ... cock ... and hold it. Sometimes I like to..."

"What?"

"To, um ... touch his cock with mine, Father," I said. "Like squeeze our dicks together and rub them at the same time while we kiss."

"I see," he drew a deep breath. "What else? Continue ... and don't leave anything out."

"Sometimes I think about sucking a boy, sucking his cock, and maybe he's sucking mine too..."

I felt my penis getting stiff as I imagined the stuff I was saying and they were very familiar dreams by then. I told Father John everything, giving him every detail I could think of and even telling him about what I'd done with Gary and Ron, but without telling him it was real. I had to rub the lump in my trousers. Visions of different boys, some I knew and some I'd only imagined, filled my mind. I was kissing them and loving them, having sex while I told the priest all about it.

" ... and I'm licking his butt, Father. I kiss the boy's butthole and try to get my tongue inside while I play with his dick and balls. And someone else is sticking his big cock in my butt and fucking me and..." I stopped, blinking as I realized what I was saying, " ... and that's all, Father. That's what I think about."

I hadn't even realized I'd closed my eyes, but I had. I'd been seeing everything in my head, like dreaming or something, and now I opened them to find the other half of the confessional empty. Father John wasn't there and I could see the door half-open, but where was the priest? I could hardly breathe and my heart was pounding and my panic only lasted a split second before the door on my side opened.

"Father?" I blinked at him and then I realized his long, fat cock was standing stiffly from his black pants.

"Get on your knees, faggot."

He didn't wait, but pushed me down right there in the confessional and as I opened my mouth to ask a silly question, Father John filled it with his hard dick. He had a nice one too, like the ones I dreamt about sometimes. Maybe not as long as Ron's, but just as thick and seriously rock solid. Father John wasn't an old man either, just forty maybe, and neither big nor small for a full grown man. He was an average guy in the looks department, but just then I thought he had the most beautiful cock in the world.

I crammed as much of his dick in my mouth as I could, like I was starving for it, and maybe I was. I grabbed the shaft with both hands and felt him so incredibly hot and heavy, soft and hard at the same time. His skin felt like silk as I squeezed the man's penis and swirled my tongue around the smooth glans. Father John had a nice big cockhead and it tasted kind of salty and a faintly bitter after a long day of doing whatever it is a priest does. He tasted and smelled like a man and filled my senses until I felt dizzy with teenage lust. I was literally shaking with excitement, half afraid I was only dreaming because I'd been wanting to have sex so badly.

"That's it. Suck my cock," Father John breathed. "Cockboy, that's what I'm going to call you from now on. My little Cockboy. Do you like that name?"

"Mmmph-hmph!" I agreed around his cock, not really caring what he called me as I took as much of him as I could.

Father John's cockhead touched the entrance to my throat and made me gag weakly and I moved my hand along the shaft. I held him just an inch or a little more behind the glans, and that was a trick I'd learned at camp. Now I knew exactly how much I could take and I started bobbing my head up and down, taking exactly as much dick into my mouth as I could handle. As soon as my tightly stretched lips touched my hand, I pulled back and that worked great. I fucked Father John's cock with my mouth, up and down, breathing easily through my nose and eager for his cum.

"Yeah, Cockboy, you know how to do it, huh? You've sucked cock before, haven't you? Play with my balls too."

He helped pull his scrotum out of his pants and I took them in my other hand, admiring the size and shape of his sperm-filled balls as I rolled them around. His ballsack felt warm and sticky with sweat, covered with soft pubic hair, and I pinched it near the top, making a circle with my thumb and finger and pulling down like I was milking a cow. Gary had always liked that and Father John groaned softly as I jerked off his balls. At least, that's what I called it. I sucked his cock and pulled on his balls and tried to make the man feel as good as possible. I wanted to taste his cum more than anything else in the world right then.

I must have been doing it pretty good too, or maybe Father John was just as horny as me, because after only five minutes or so he told me to get ready. He held my head with both hands, keeping my mouth on his dick as I felt his balls being pulled upward with a quick spasm and then his cock started spitting hot semen into my mouth faster than I could ever hope to swallow it. I tried though! I was able to swallow once ... twice ... three times before I coughed and lost it, spurting cum out the corners of my mouth and down my chin.

"Keep sucking, Cockboy!" Father John gasped urgently. "Eat my cum, you little cocksucker!"

I ate some more and his ball juice was thick and creamy, salty and a little sour as it slid down my throat and into my tummy. I drank as much as I could, swallowing thickly while I held his balls, coaxing the man to give me every last drop of sperm he had. I wanted to drink him dry and after Father John's orgasm slowed and finally ended, I kept his softening dick in my mouth and went to work sucking him hard again. My tummy was full of cum and I wanted more. It had been so long since I'd had sex and my hormones were going crazy, my own dick throbbed in my pants with excitement.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Father John chuckled as he caught his breath. "You're a hell of a cocksucker, Cockboy. You should have told me a long time ago."

"Ummmph..." I kinda shrugged and gave him my apologetic eyes as I tickled his piss hole with the tip of my tongue.

"Yeah," he sighed, stroking my hair and smiling. "I should have guessed a pretty boy like you had to be a faggot. Now, this is our secret, right, Cockboy?"

He pulled his mostly hard dick out of my mouth with a wet, lip smacking plop.

"Nobody else has to know about this, right?" Father John rubbed his wet cockhead around my open mouth.

"I won't tell," I promised, breathing the words as I drank cool air into my lungs.

"Good boy," he said with a smile, sliding his dick over my cheeks and chin, getting my face wet with spit and cum. "We're going to have a lot of fun together. A lot of fun."

He held my head with his fingers on my cheeks and near my ears, using his thumbs to trap his dick against my upturned face. Father John moved his hips as I knelt there, sliding his cock past my nose and eyes until his ballsack touched my chin. He fucked me like that, just rubbing his dick over my skin while he stared down at me and I held his legs through those black wool pants he wore, enjoying every second of it.

I thought he'd want me to suck his cock again and I was ready. I licked and kissed the shaft as it moved over my mouth, letting Father John know how eager I was to do it again, but we were interrupted.

"Father John? Hello..." Sister Judith's high pitched voice echoed in the church. "Is there anyone in here?"

"Shhhh..." The priest put a finger to his lips with an annoyed look, pushing his cock back inside his pants with a grunt.

I blinked as a wave of nervous energy made me shiver and I crawled backwards on my knees as much as I could. The confessional wasn't very large though and I tried to make myself smaller as the nun's shoes clicked on the marble floor of the church. Sister Judith was coming closer and Father John closed the door of the confessional on me so that I was huddled alone in the dark.

"Good evening, Sister," Father John said pleasantly.

"Oh!" Sister Judith giggled. "You scared me! I didn't think anyone was in here."

"I was just getting ready to lock up," the priest told her. "Confession ran a little late today."

"Hmmm..." she sighed and I couldn't see them, of course, but they were standing just outside the thin door.

"Where's everyone else?" Father John wondered.

"Getting ready for supper," the nun whispered. "We have time."

"Over here..." he told her and I wasn't sure what was going on and then I had to really hide because Father John had entered the priest side of the confessional.

"I need this so badly," Sister Judith giggled and I almost gasped aloud as she squeezed into the confessional with him.

Zzzzip! I heard his zipper going down and the rustling of clothes, a lot of heavy breathing as they arranged themselves in the small room. I dared a quick peek and saw Sister Judith had pulled the skirt of her black nun's habit upward, bunching the material around her waist and she wasn't even wearing any underwear!

She looked really pale, even in that dim light, but she definitely had a woman's body. I mean, it's kinda hard to tell what a nun really looks like underneath all those robes and stuff. Sister Judith almost looked like a normal girl and not a very old one either. Like nineteen or twenty maybe? I didn't know, but she reminded me a lot of Janice as she shook her dirty blonde hair loose with her fingers. It wasn't very long but all of a sudden she looked kind of pretty.

The transformation kind of freaked me out a little, the way Sister Judith seemed to change from a nun into a woman right before my eyes. I hardly knew her though, since she'd only arrived a few weeks before, but still ... It totally freaked me out when she turned around so her back was to Father John and his stiff cock still wet with my spit probably. Sister Judith arched her spine and bent her knees as the man took her hips in his hands and pulled her down until she gasped sharply.