Date: Mon, 17 Oct 2005 19:47:47 -0400 From: Danny Harris <email@example.com> Subject: Another Mike the Soccer Coach 02 ANOTHER MIKE THE SOCCER COACH Part 2: A Religious Experience 1 by DannyR Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. Story Codes: MM, M/b, MM/b, oral, anal, incest, pedo Author's notes: Maxamm's "Three Men and a Baby" (2000) also inspired an M/b version (for personal use <g> only), but the characters show up here as Father Flanagan finds out he's going to get lucky again, in more ways than one. Soccer coach Mike, his son, and the other two boys show up again in Part 3. Very actively. DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This story is a fantasy. It didn't happen. Never will. I neither condone nor advocate any of these activities. And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. Now that we're clear on what's what, and what's not, read on. Part 2: A Religious Experience "Bless me, father, for I have sinned." Father Sean Flanagan, the priest with the Irish name and the Italian looks, held back a sigh. It had been a long week since he'd had his first boy-fuck, or at least where he was doing the fucking. Growing up, he'd regularly serviced the men in his family and most of their friends, and loved every drop of cum pumped into and on him. But last week was hot. Ten-year-old Jimmy, slender, and a well-trained boy-slut. His father Mike was the assistant soccer coach for one of St. Pius' opponents in the city league, and together they'd double-fucked the kid, ass (priest) and mouth (daddy). Since then, zip. Hell, not even a decent confession to jack off to. "And how long has it been since your last confession?" "Uh, well...." The voice on the other side of the wall suddenly sounded very nervous. "Uh, well, um, never." What? "And how is that possible, my son?" The man's voice became more than a little embarrassed, and much, much softer. "Because I'm not Catholic?" Was there a full moon he didn't know about? Suddenly the Protestants were finding themselves in need of a priest. Mike had used a need for counseling for him and Jimmy to get to see Father Sean, and then seduce him. Father Sean smiled at the memory of sliding his thick meat in and out of the little boy's hole, while sharing a kiss with the boy's father, which included a mouthful of hot boy-piss swirling back and forth between the two men. "Then why are you here?" "Well, uh, y'see, I've seen stuff on television and stuff, you know, about confessions and how you guys, uh, priests, I mean, can't talk about what you hear. And, well, I really need to talk to somebody, and I can't do it with my friends because I know what they would say." "Are you ready to sincerely repent your sins?" "Well, uh, yeah, I guess so, but what I really need, I think, is some of that, uh, what is it, it sounds like vodka?" Father Sean restrained a grin. "Absolution?" "Yeah, yeah, that's it." Okay, so this wasn't going to be any cum-fodder, but it might be fun. "Very well, we'll go ahead. Now, how have you sinned?" "Well, uh, I've been having, what do you guys call it, impure thoughts?" Maybe not so fun after all. Maybe just boring. Oh well, he'd given his word, but he could at least hurry the guy along. Not that there was anyone waiting. The church was already locked, and Father Sean would be going back to the rectory after he finished here and let this last penitent out the side door. "About whom?" "My son." Father Sean's cock twitched. "What kind of thoughts have you been having?" There was a long pause, a big intake of breath. "Go ahead, my son, just say it. I doubt I will be surprised, so don't beat around the bush." "Okay, Father. It's, well, I've been thinking about fucking him." Father Sean's dick became definitely interested. "How?" "How?" "Yes, my son. If I am to arrive at a proper penance, I need to know everything. And you can tell me freely since I cannot disclose what you say to anyone." Father Sean had an absolute talent for sounding so sincere that people believed everything he said. "Oh. Well. Uh, okay. Sometimes, I think about doing it, you know, taking his cherry, with him on his back. Holding his legs wide apart and looking down on his stiff little dick while I slowly move my greased prick to his tiny hole and then push to get the head in and then just slide in until I'm buried to the balls. And, well, other times, he's on his stomach with a pillow under his hips, and I'll tongue-fuck him first, slurping around his hole until he's wet with my mouth slime, and then I'll just thrust all the way in and get it over all at once. I mean, I know it'll hurt him the first time, we all know that, but you know, once he got used to it, he'd really like it. And then I'd start to fuck him, just short strokes at first to ease him into it, but then longer and longer until I was just barely keeping the head of my dick in his hole when I backed up, and then faster and harder and harder until, oh Christ, I'd blow a fucking wad up my son's butt like I've never blown before." The man stopped, and in the silence the priest could hear his heavy breathing. He had to work, himself, to keep his own heavy breathing down. Unlike his cock, which was definitely up. And likely to stay that way, despite being cramped inside his briefs. "And have you ever acted on these thoughts, my son?" Another pause. "Well, not those thoughts." Father Sean had no choice but to rearrange his meat, and be grateful no one else was around that evening to see the large wet spot from his precum when he left the confessional. "What thoughts have you acted on, my son?" A longer pause. "Are you really sure you can't talk about this? You know, cops and stuff?" Father Sean's voice was deep, comforting, persuasive. "This is just between you and me, my son. And the Lord who already knows anyway. But it is far better for you to tell me everything." "Uh. Hmmm. Okay. Well, see, it started a couple of months ago, with a poker game. Two of my buddies came over while my wife was out. My son was up in bed sleeping. He'd been sick recently, so I had a monitor in his room, and it was turned on in the kitchen, and D--, uh, my friend, didn't know about it. See, he went up to take a piss, and then we heard him talking to my son, and we knew he was beating off while he was doing it. How he'd like to fuck my son's mouth, and wondering whether I'd done that or whether I'd licked his butthole. But he didn't do anything. Just muttered he'd have to take a piss and get downstairs before I got suspicious. "See, I'd thought about some of that stuff. Like maybe sucking my kid's dick or even better, mouth fucking him, but I'd never done anything. And when I looked over T--, well, my other friend, well he was just standing there with this huge fucking boner in his shorts. And that just blew me away. I mean, T-- uh, Father, can I just say their names, since, uh, you can't tell anyway, and I'm not really from around here?" Father Sean continued lightly squeezing his cock. "Of course, my son." "Well, Tony has three sons, and here he was throwing a hard over Don talkin' dirty to my son. I pretended like I didn't notice, though. But I did. Three of us. And all hot and hard for my son. So anyway, after Don came downstairs I said I had to go up and check on Kevin. So I did. You should have seen their faces when I brought him back downstairs and into the kitchen. "And, well, he stayed there through the rest of the evening. Naked. And, uh, well, we took turns jacking off on him, or sometimes all of us together would spray him with cum, or take turns fucking his hot little mouth, and, uh, well, pissing him too. I mean, the toilet was upstairs, and he, well, he liked it. Liked drinking it, too. `N ever since then, well, I've jacked off on him, or jacked my cum into his hot little mouth, or creamed his little butt, even pissed him a bunch of times, too." The priest wasn't sure he could stand much more. He had to ask. "And, uh, how old is your son?" "Eleven - " "An eleven year old boy lets his father and his father's friends use him like that?" Father Sean squeezed his aching prick. Fuck, what an image. "Uh, well, no, not - " "You and your friends force him to do these things?" That was cool. A little force between a man and a boy wasn't all bad. Christ, he'd have to jack off and cum his pants as soon as this guy left the church. He couldn't wait until he got upstairs. "No, uh, father, he does like it. I mean, he doesn't cry or anything. And he, uh, well, just gulps down the cum and piss. It's just, well, it's, uh, eleven months, not years." "Holy fuck." There was absolute silence after the words slipped out of Father Sean's mouth. Don thought about how the priest's voice had sounded a little ragged with the last couple of questions. Sort of like his own voice sounded when he was fucking his fist while talking to someone on the phone, and trying to disguise how turned on he was. "You playing with your dick, too, Father?" The priest was about to deny it when he picked up on the "too." "Yeah." Hot damn. Carl had really lucked out. He'd wound up with a real live pedo priest. Maybe he'd let him watch while he jacked off. Or maybe, even, well, something more. Carl, Don and Tony had just confined themselves to watching each other have sex with baby Kevin, but Carl had begun to wonder what it would be like with one of his friends, too. But before Carl could say anything, the priest spoke again, his voice just above a whisper, although the church was completely empty. "I am so fucking turned on I look like I pissed my pants." Carl groaned. The sound of his zipper moving down, the rustling of his shirt as he moved it aside and pulled his own dripping prick out of his jeans seemed loud. Father Sean said, "But you still haven't told me about your impure `thoughts.' With all you and your friends have done to your boy, what could - " He paused. "Oh." Carl smeared his own lube down his cock, making it slick. "Yeah, Father, you got it. I imagine myself fucking my little boy. And Tony's boys. They're 2, 4 and 6 and they've all been sexing their daddy for years." The priest moaned. His own thick shaft was already in his hand, almost greasy with the amount of precum he was leaking. "Has, has your friend been fucking his boys?" "Just the oldest. See, Tony's got eight inches of Italian sausage, and it's thick, and he figured he'd really hurt the younger ones if he fucked `em, so he waited until the oldest was six before starting in on him. Don's about seven inches and even thicker. But me, well, the guys say I've got the perfect babyfucker. I'm well, kinda long and kinda thin, and they say I could bust a cherry boy cunt real easy and make it good on the kid." "Show me." Carl blinked. "You wanta watch me fuck a kid?" "Yeah. My granddad watched my daddy fuck me for the first time when I was five. I loved it, knowing he was watching me get dicked. But right now I want to see your fucking pedo cock." Carl gulped. "Here?" But the priest's obscenity and his rapid breathing were turning Carl on even more. "Church is empty. Locked. You tellin' me it wouldn't turn you on to show off your pedo prick to a pedo priest who likes little boys like you do? A pedo priest who fucked a ten year old boy down the hall last week, while his daddy watched and helped?" Father Sean's voice faded away and then resumed - right outside the confessional door where Carl was seated, his shorts around his ankles, his cock gleaming in the dim light. "Open up, my son, and let me see that baby-fucker meat." Carl stood up, opened the door, and then without waiting stepped out, or more waddled out since his pants were bunched at his ankles. From the priest's name at the front of the church, Carl was expecting a redhead, maybe with a burning bush, but what he got was as much Italian as his bud Tony, but with an even bigger cock. Nine inches. Really thick. Huge hairy balls. All thrusting out the open zipper of his black pants. One hairy-knuckled paw stroking the prick lightly while the piss-slit leaked precum in a steady flow. Carl was impressed. So was Father Sean. He'd never seen a prick that long before, not in real life, and he'd assumed the ones he saw on the Net were just faked up. Ten inches. Eleven? Slim, but with a big head and a huge piss slit. Sure, a kid would squeal when that head punched through his tight little hole, but then he'd start moaning with lust when he got used to the rest of the thin meat sliding in and out of his shitter. Oh yeah, a definite baby fuckin', boy-cherry bustin' kind of cock. No boy cunts around right now but he had a mouth cunt that could use a good hosing of man cum. Father Sean stepped closer and dropped to his knees. Everything about the situation and the man, hell, even his plump beer belly, the thick dark pubes and treasure trail, the low-low-hanging balls, even the funky man scent of his crotch, was keeping him good and sexed up. Carl looked down on the hunky priest kneeling in front of him, and watched him lean forward and carefully lick just the oozing head of Carl's meat, before sliding it past his lips and swirling his tongue in and around the piss slit. Christ. He was about to get a blowjob from a priest right in church. Where anyone might see them. Had to be some big time fuckin' blasphemy doin' that, like God was gonna strike them dead any second now. But still, big time fuckin' turn-on too. Father Sean let Carl's cock head out of his mouth and looked up. "What's your name?" "Uh, Carl." "Well, `uh Carl', you think you might like to fuck my face while you tell me more of your impure thoughts?" "Oh, fuck yeah." Carl watched in awe as the priest leaned in and half of Carl's cock slid easily into his mouth. Carl couldn't believe it. He'd never had a blowjob in his life, and his wife was not much interested in sex any more, much less something as sick, as she once said, as sucking a man's dick and swallowing his cum. And here he was with a hot wet mouth halfway down his meat and moving further. And further. And further. And suddenly, he could feel the priest's nose against his pubes and hear the priest inhale the kind of man-stink he knew was down there. Father Sean swallowed and his throat muscles rippled around Carl's cock. Carl gasped. Carl put his hands on the priest's head. He'd never face-fucked before, hell, he'd never ass-fucked either, but he still knew the basics. First, do no harm. Second, get your rocks off good. He pulled his hips back half way and then thrust forward again. He started to build up a slow rhythm with a few strokes, and was opening his mouth to speak, when Father Sean pulled all the way off his cock, leaving it wet and dripping in the cool air. The priest said as he stood up, "Hold it. There's a better way to do this. A trick my daddy taught me when I was four." He led Carl, somewhat awkwardly crab-walking, to a wide bench between two pillars at the side of the church, and had Carl stand at the end. Father Sean straddled it and quickly lay down on his back, his head hanging off the edge. Carl got the idea. Toed off his trainers, stepped out of his shorts, and leaned over the priest's prone body. For some reason he felt fucking sexy, just wearing a shirt and white socks, bending over a priest all in black with the fucking white collar and a huge piece of meat thrusting up out of his pants. A large amount of slick precum oozed out of the slit. Carl looked back at himself, and watched, amazed, as the priest's callused hands guided Carl's long thin cock back into the priest's hot mouth and then with a tug on Carl's hips, down the priest's throat. Carl pulled his hips back and watched his cock slide out of the lips that were grasping it so tightly, and then he was gliding back in again. He shut his eyes and let himself go with long strokes that didn't seem to bother the priest at all. "Impure thoughts, Father? How about Danny, Tony's 4-year-old? Tony wants me to take his cherry, Father. Slide my pedo cock in his tight virgin boy cunt. He thinks the kid will squeal nice `n loud when I pop his hole, `n Tony wants to watch. Hold the kid down while I slowly shove my prick in his shitter, and then slide it back out. And in and out again. And again." Lost in his fantasy, eyes still closed, Carl didn't see the priest using his own precum to get two of his fingers greasy. No one had ever played with his asshole before, and for a moment Carl didn't notice the priest's sticky index finger circling his hole as he continued his thrusts down the priest's welcoming throat. The finger pushed gently in and Carl kept right on fucking the priest's mouth. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Mouthfucking a priest right in the church, having one, oh Christ fuck shit, two! of the priest's hairy fingers up his virgin butt. "Tony's watching me fuck his little boy. And Don. And you. Two pedo men, a pedo priest, watching me fuck this little boy with my long greasy prick, sliding in and out faster and faster, and then you shove a finger up my ass, and another and then three. And you're ramming my ass as fast as I'm fucking the boy." Father Sean was doing just that. Finger fucking his new-found pedo pal, twisting and thrusting his fingers over Carl's prostate. "Can't believe - I'm - fucking a little boy, licking my lips, Don wiping his leaking cock head on my mouth, you behind me, mounting me, shoving that priest cock up my virgin hole, faster `n faster `n faster, oh Christ fuck shit piss I'm coming, I'm coming in a baby boy, cumming his little cunt, oh fuck me Father, fuck me hard!!!!" In a split-second moment of silence between Carl's last shouted word and his renewed heavy breathing with his final almost vicious thrust down the priest's throat, Father Sean thought he heard a noise, a grunt, but then he was too intent on expertly sucking down every bit of delicious hot spooge Carl was pumping into to think about the maybe-noise. A steady stream of precum oozed out of his own prick, slicking up his shaft and staining his pants. Carl was slumped over, resting his weight on his forearms, wiped out and not really aware that despite his mind -- and ball -- blowing cum, he was enjoying the feel of the fingers up inside his manhole. As his cock began to wither - slightly - Mike lifted his head and looked at the priest's thick and plainly unsatisfied shaft. He wondered what it would be like to lick the ooze, to maybe put his mouth around it, suck and swallow and taste hot cum. Hell, he'd never tasted anybody's cum, even his own, so why was he wondering now? Okay, okay, so maybe it had something to do with fucking a man's throat while screaming out a fantasy of fucking his little boy while getting his man cunt royally fucked by the man sucking him off. But still, okay, he was a pedo - no question, and he liked his ass played with - no fucking question - but it was just a fantasy, not something he'd really do, well, other than the fucking the kid part, so he wasn't really a fag cocksucker. Right. First a pedo, always a pedo, never a fag. He didn't quite realize how wistful his expression was as he kept staring at the priest's raging hardon, as he straightened up, the fingers slid out of his now-aching hole, and the last bit of his cum was licked off his meat with a final tongue swirl as he withdrew the head of his prick from the priest's gently sucking mouth. Father Sean, though, had other plans. The priest sat up, rotating his head and shoulders to get the kinks out after the fine throat fucking he'd just received. One that was right up there with his daddy's and his grandpa's finest and they'd been really great pedo throat fuckers for their tiny son and grandson. He swung his left leg over so he was sitting on the edge of the bench and then shifted again so he was straddling the bench, facing Carl, who was sitting back on his haunches, still breathing a bit heavily, his almost-limp dick still slick and shiny. The priest's voice was soft. "Carl." Carl looked up, and shivered at the raw lust in the priest's eyes. "So, Carl, how do you want to make me happy? The first time." Father Sean saw that Carl was opening his mouth to object, or make an excuse for having to get his clothes on and get the fuck out of Dodge, but the priest wasn't having any of that. As much as he loved the submissive side of getting his mouth cunt or his man cunt fucked, just as he had for all those years when he was a boy slut and a teen slut for the men in his family and their friends, he'd found out with Mike that he enjoyed being in charge, too. Little Jimmy was the first boy he'd ever fucked. He'd never fucked a man, either, before entering the priesthood, and since then - well, up until last week - it had only been his fist and his fantasies. He knew that was going to change, and change fast. Like starting now. Fuck giving Carl a choice. He needed to get off good and get off fast, since the longer they were in the church, the greater the danger of somebody finally coming in and catching them. A fucking turn on, yeah, but still. So as Carl's mouth opened to object, Father Sean leaned forward, put his left hand behind Carl's head to hold it in place, and slid his first two fingers inside Carl's mouth. "Suck, Carl." Carl sat there in shock, and he might still have tried something, except he made the mistake of closing his mouth and inhaling. The smell of butt-stink, his own raw man-smell, and the taste of his butt juices, made his cock start surging back towards a full hard. Shit, he never got hard twice in a row with his wife, but apparently, give him little boys or a fucking hot man, and he could cum for days. Well, he'd never sucked anything before, but he was definitely going to now. He quickly sucked the priest's fingers clean, moaning slightly as he lightly stroked his own hard. Father Sean pulled his fingers out of Carl's mouth, played with the wet lips, put one hand on each side of Carl's head and pulled his head down to the priest's crotch. He could feel Carl's warm breath on his cock head. "You ever sucked a man's cock, Carl?" Carl breathed a soft "no." "You learn things quick?" The truth was, not usually. He wasn't slow or stupid, he just needed to do something a couple of times until there was this kind of click! inside his head and everything fell into place. Of course, admitting that he was slow at anything, except of course, for a long fucking, wasn't very manly, so Carl lied. He quietly said "yeah." Mistake. BIG mistake. With an equally quiet and kind of threatening "watch the fucking teeth" Father Sean lowered Carl's head and waiting mouth onto the priest's eager prick. And lowered it. And lowered it. Carl began to gag at the four inch mark. Cough at five. Struggle at six. Breathe through his nose at seven. Panic and wildly shake his head and try to pull back at eight. And hold very, very, very still when his lips touched the priest's zipper at all nine inches and his nose began inhaling the man scent of pubes that were surely clean that morning, but had a day's worth of sweat and crotch raunch wafting up. The pain in his throat was fucking awful, but Carl found his meat was fucking hard again. Except he couldn't do anything about it. He needed to use his hands to brace himself against the bench as Father Sean just sat there and began lifting Carl's head so that goddamned thick piece of meat finally got out of his throat, only to shove his head down again. Carl continued to struggle, shaking his head, trying to pull away, but inside, aside from the part that thought he was going to fucking choke to death right in a goddamn Catholic church with a mouth full of priest meat, the bigger part was loving it, and sending all sorts of do-this-try-that kind of signals to his mouth and lips and tongue and throat so he could learn to take this. To satisfy the man in his mouth. Who clearly didn't give a fuck whether Carl was enjoying it or not. Carl's cock oozed precum. Father Sean kept his fantasies to himself. He was pretty sure the other pedos he knew from the confessional wouldn't mind him discreetly spreading the word, especially since doing so would give them more young boys to use, but until then he'd keep his mouth shut, well, unless it was sucking boy cock or licking boy holes or gulping down boy piss or man piss. The priest tossed his head back, eyes clamped shut, as his hands forced Carl's head up and down the full length of the priest's meat, faster and faster, all the while Father Sean was imagining plunging his cock into Carl's hole while Carl fucked his baby boy, and when the kid cunt was full of semen, yanking his cock out of Carl and pushing him aside and getting some part of his meat, fuck, even just the head, inside that cum-smeared baby hole and then blasting the kid full of cum. Just like he was doing to Carl's throat now, as with a final vicious yank he held Carl's head down into his crotch while his cock spewed lava hot fuck sauce into Carl's throat. Carl whimpered and moaned and tossed his head, and gulped and gulped and gulped, managing to swallow every thick, salty, tasty drop of the priest's cum. And then the priest's hands were gently raising his head. Carl kept his lips closed, enjoying the thickness sliding out of his throat and into his mouth. He resisted slightly when about half the meat was still inside. The priest still held Carl's head as the kneeling man slurped and sucked on the half-hard prick while he rapidly fisted himself and in seconds spewed another load of daddy juice all over his fist and his belly. Father Sean let his head go and smiled down at the newly-minted cocksucker who was leaning back on his haunches, breathing heavily. "Fuck," said the priest. "Yeah," sighed Carl. He glanced down at his hand and without thinking about it, raised his hand and licked his own cum off. Not quite as tasty as the priest's and a different flavor, but he knew he wouldn't waste it any more on a cum rag - for those between boys jack-off sessions. He looked up and saw that the priest had tucked his meat back inside his trousers, although there was still a nice bulge showing. Father Sean extended a hand that was sticky with his own cum and Carl's mouth juices. Carl took it and accepted the lift up. Then bent and pulled his underwear and shorts up over his own sticky meat. Father Sean clapped his hand on Carl's shoulder. "You want to stop by my room for a bit?" Carl's eyes widened. "Nope, not for that. But in my freezer I have some Absolut-tion for you." Carl blinked, got it, and started to laugh. Father Sean joined him as they headed out of the church. In the shadows on the other side of the church, Bishop Bernardi was still bent over, his hands on his knees, the back of his cassock thrown up over his shoulders, his underwear down around his ankles. The front of his cassock now had a huge cum stain from where a very large hand had bunched the fabric around his straining prick and beat him off while they watched the end of the first suck-off. The grunt had been his as he shot a fucking enormous load of cum at the images of the daddy fucking his baby boy while a stud priest fucked the daddy. Behind him he could feel the slow withdrawal of the very long, very thick, very black cock that had just fucked the hell out of him. Joseph Howard, the diocese's auditor, told the bishop to step out of his underwear, and leave it on the floor, because he wanted the bishop to feel all that cum oozing out of the bishop's well-ravaged hole, sliding down his thighs, staining the back of his cassock as he sat in the car that would take him home. Fortunately, the bishop's driver was used to the smell of cum and the sight of cum stains. From time to time he even contributed both. As then ordered the bishop turned and knelt and gratefully licked and slurped the massive cock clean. Like the priest they'd watched, Joseph had only unzipped and pulled his cock and balls through his fly before dropping several large globs of spit on his cock and then shoving it quickly up the bishop's experienced asshole. Now he tucked himself neatly back inside, making sure he dressed left, and then zipped up. The bishop stood up and Joseph pulled him close, reached behind, cupped the man's ass cheeks and ground the fingers of his right hand into the still somewhat gaping hole, ensuring a nice visible stain. He always liked a matching set. Then he stepped back. Joseph's face was impassive as always, but inside he was wondering. He'd never really thought of boys before. He liked men, usually his age and older, like the bishop. He liked young men, too. He liked his power over them. The things they'd say and do for a taste or feel of his cock. You might say he was - catholic - in his tastes. But maybe, just maybe, he was becoming even more catholic. Boys. Very young boys. His cock twitched. Bishop Bernardi looked at the door where Father Sean and the unknown parishioner had left. He made the sign of the cross and murmured, "Go, my sons, and sin - some more." Joseph chuckled, the bishop joined him, and then they left the church by another door.