Brothers

Brother James stared at the pebbled ground as he strode along the pathway leading to the abbey church. He heard the calling bells for vespers and he hurried, but his gaze was focused down between his sandaled feet as he hurried along. He wiped a tear that had escaped and ran down his face cheek. How could he kneel and pray? He was a sinner.

*Six years earlier*

Jimmy was confused. His thoughts were in disorder. He had googled homosexuality. Was he a homosexual? His attraction to the other boys was strong, especially when they were in the showers after physical ed class sessions. But more, there was Harold, his cousin. Harold was 2 years older than Jimmy, but the two boys connected well and were never at odds with each other like other cousins usually were.

Harold and Jimmy often went skinny dipping in the pond at the edge of the pine woods near Jimmy’s home. They would have lots of fun horsing around and splashing cold water at each other. Except for that Saturday afternoon.

“Wanna go swimming, Jimmy?” Harold had barged into their kitchen, where Jimmy was sipping on a cold lemonade.

“Sure, coz,” Jimmy was elated. He loved these times with Harry.

As usual, the two boys had played around in the cool water. After about a half hour or so, Harold climbed out of the water and lay on a patch of grass on his back. He was boned. Jimmy stared in disbelief as he saw his cousin’s cock hard and thick and plastered onto his belly, pressing on the wet and thick patch of pubic hair. He stayed in the water because he too boned as soon as he saw Harold’s erection. The two boys had seen each other naked before. They had even compared dick sizes, limp, with Jimmy’s dick a tad longer but thinner than Harry’s.

Jimmy’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Harold spit into his hand and fist his hard cock, stroking slowly, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, his bare skin covered with water droplets reflecting the sun rays shining down on them. Jimmy froze, not daring to touch himself, his own dick throbbing, almost painfully, still hidden under the water.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Harold sat up, his hand still fisting his hard dick. “Come on out, dude.”

Slowly, Jimmy waded out of the water, naked, dripping, his dick pointing at 6 inches straight in front of him.

“Dude, you’re boned,” Harold laughed, working his fingers around his cock knob.

“You’re jackin off,” Jimmy croaked.

“Yeah, feels awesome, dude. Let’s do it together.”

Jimmy crouched next to Harold, his gaze at Harold’s flared knob, glinting with spit, and he started to stroke his own hard boy dick. What he was watching, Harry stroking, his abs rippling, his cock head glinting with a drop of pre-ejaculation, was a total turn on for Jimmy. It took a few strokes for him to explode, splashing Harold’s bare chest with globs of cum.

“Fuck, Jimmy,” Harold grunted sitting up. “You fucking jizzed on me.”

Jimmy’s head dizzied with the intensity of his ejaculation. He didn’t resist as Harold pushed him down on his back, straddled his chest, and jacked off, cumming all over him. One squirt hit his face just under his eyes, and he felt the thick glob slide down. Unconsciously, he flicked his tongue out to catch the drop of semen.

“DUDE,” Harold exclaimed as the last drops of cum seeped out of his cock slit. “You just ate my fuck juice.”

Jimmy raised himself on his elbows, bending over to take Harold’s slimed cock between his lips.

Harold moaned arching his back and thrusting. Jimmy swallowed the limping dick to the base.

Since then, Jimmy and Harold did not go skinny dipping again. The guilt ate at him. Every night, he would jack off with the taste and feel of Harold’s cock strong, and then he would cry himself to sleep.

It was two weeks later that Jimmy had to do something about his feelings. He confessed to Father Damien.

“My son,” the father whispered inside the confession box. “You have sinned. This is a deadly sin.”

“But Father,” Jimmy sobbed, “it was just that one time.”

“And you are still lusting. My boy, your punishment will be enormous if you do not get rid of these sinful thoughts.”

During the sermon on Sunday after the confession, Father Damien focused on sinful thoughts, his eyes darting towards Jimmy, shooting accusatory darts at him, making him squirm in misery, feeling as if all the eyes of the congregation were on him, boring into him, all screaming “SINNER!”

“Mom, Dad, I want to join the brotherhood,” Jimmy croaked, tears flowing down his smooth cheeks.

“Son,” his father said, “You’re too young for such a decision. What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

“Please, Dad. Please. Let me join. I want to be a monk.”

It took some time for Jimmy’s parents to give their consent. Jimmy believed that joining the brotherhood and dedicating his life to Jesus would ease his punishment.

*The present*

Brother James heaved. It didn’t work out. He still lusted. The scene with his cousin kept replaying in his mind and he would instantly bone. The solution had been for him to slap his face hard and kneel to pray and pray and pray. And take long walks in the woods around the abbey. Like now. He pressed on his brown habit to keep his erected cock in place. It throbbed and throbbed and he had to have some release. Looking around, he stepped off the path and stool behind a thick bush. Pulling his habit up and tying it at his waist, he fished out his hard cock and masturbated. Huge globs of cum shot out of him as he heaved and grunted, the actual taste of Harold’s cock still strong in his mouth, from such a long time ago. However, since last night, things had changed. Drastically.

Last night, as he got ready for bed, Brother Stephen who shared their room, took off his habit, exposing his underwear. Normally, Brother James would make sure to get into bed before his roomie prepared to undress. James would turn his back to face the wall, avoiding looking at Brother Stephen. But not tonight. Brother James could not take his stare away from Brother Stephen’s crotch, bringing to his mind Harold’s hard cock stroking and jizzing and sliding into his mouth covered with cum.

With Herculean force, James turned away and slipped into his bed turning over onto his stomach, his dick rock hard and plastered to his belly. Tears flowed down his face cheeks and he heaved. Brother Stephen stepped over and sat on the edge of James’s cot.

“Brother? Is there something wrong?”

Stephen placed his hand on James’s heaving shoulder.

“Brother James?” Stephen insisted. “Shall I call Father Abbot? Tell me, Brother.”

James turned around, his eyes red, his face cheeks and beard wet with tears. He stared at his mate. His eyes wandered down onto Stephen’s crotch, his tool outlined in the white cotton briefs. In slow motion, James reached and placed his shaking hand on the crotch.

“Oh, Brother James,” Brother Stephen tried to move back, gripping James’s hand, which was not yet pressing and rubbing. But Brother Stephen erected.

“Sweet Jesus,” Stephen moaned, “forgive me, Jesus,” as he pressed James’s hand on his erecting tool instead of forcing it away.

James slid his hand inside the briefs to grip the erecting cock. He stroked. Tears down his face cheeks. Stephen leaned back, not resisting, moaning, throbbing.

When he shot his load, Stephen almost jumped a foot high. He could not believe it when James immediately bent down and took the erupting cock into his mouth, taking the rest of the squirts down his throat. James sucked. Swallowed. Cried.

The wetness in his own briefs was evidence of his own ejaculation. The explosion was immense, triggered by Stephen’s squirts of cum that hit the back of his mouth and by the pulsating cock stretching his jaws. All the pent up feelings and desires and lust erupted with force.

The two young monks came down from their high, hard, panting and sweating.

“I’m a sinner, Brother,” James cried. “I have tempted you. I am a sinner.”

Stephen hugged James. The two lads rocked against each other. Stephen moved back, stared into James’s eyes, and kissed him on the lips. James moaned, opening his mouth, tongues meeting.

Stephen and James made love that night. They took turns. Over and over. They started by sucking on each other’s tool until they ejaculated. They kissed, their mouths tasting of cum. They tried anal. Stephen was able to push into James and dump another load inside him. But James couldn’t get past the ring with his big cock. He rubbed on the hole until he slimed Stephen’s crack and butt and balls with his load. And then again.

Brother Stephen smiled at Brother James as they sat across each other in the abbey’s cafeteria for breakfast. The two monks were glowing.

“It’s not a sin to love, Brother,” Stephen had said, kissing James’s neck and holding him tight, their naked bodies pressed on each other, slick with sweat and cum.

“But, Stephen, this is lust,” James was wracked with guilt but tingling with an amazing high of both body and spirit. He was not a freak. Stephen was in his arms. They kissed.

They had spent the rest of the night alternating between confessing their feelings to each other and sexing each other. Climax after climax. Until the wee hours of the morning when the two lads succumbed to deep dreamless sleep, only to be awakened by the morning tolls calling for prayer.

They had prayed fervently, the image of the crucified Jesus transfixed in front of them, and they both had seen the look of sympathy and love emanating from the crucifix.