Well, it’s official. High school has come and gone and I’m STILL a virgin.
Even my friend Gibby lost her virginity! And she’s hideous!
Okay, maybe not hideous, but still. We swore we would be deflowered by the time we graduated, and I can’t believe that bucktoothed Gibby Berkman managed to make good while I didn’t.
It’s not her fault, though. She’s not the one who slipped in and fucked both my boyfriend AND the high school quarterback before I could have a chance to. That honor would belong to my father, Jud. He’s like a walking sex machine. Ever since I can remember, my friends would beg to come over after school just so they could get a chance to run into him. I used to think I was popular, but then my dad would walk in the room and it was like I didn’t exist. Previously, he would just smile and ignore the attention, but ever since I turned 18, it’s like he’s been actively cock blocking me!
First, there was my boyfriend, Kevin. Hot, actor, scruff that you could just die for. What does Dad do? He fucks him up the ass. And at a family dinner, no less! Then there was the school quarterback, a meathead named Brock who used to let me suck his dick after school. I’m this close to sealing the deal, when what happens? Dad swoops in and fucks him AGAIN.
If I’m being honest, I can’t really blame them, either. Dad’s always been attractive–hairy and muscular with a little bit of a dad bod. And since he loves walking around the house in tighty whities, I know he’s hung, too. I’m sure if he were someone else’s dad I’d be all over him. But no, I’m just left with the thankless task of being his son—the second fiddle to his Don Juan.
Now that I had officially graduated, it seemed I was all but destined to go to college with my virginity still intact. And to top it all off, Dad and I were stuck with each other for a week on this stupid church mission trip.
My family and I go to one of those modern-day evangelical megachurches where you have like seven pastors and no one can really tell what any of them do. Pastor Carl was the one who organized the mission trips, where a group of college kids would go to some church in North Carolina to do community service for a week. Dad volunteered as a chaperone, although I’m pretty sure he was just doing it to keep an eye on me since it was my first time going. At this point, I wouldn’t have put it past him to put one of those 17th-century chastity belts on me and call it a day. But it’s not like he needed to bother–how was I possibly going to get laid when I was stuck all week doing manual labor with a bunch of Christian college kids?
Even on the way to North Carolina, as I sat at the back of the bus listening to Taylor Swift and eyeing the other boys for potential virginity-takers, I knew my chances were slim.
There was Levi, a rising second year and Messianic Jew I’d known since childhood. He was hot, for sure–buzzed brown hair, a gorgeous, statuesque nose, and a killer smile–but he was 100% straight and annoyingly kind. He’d been the first one to congratulate me when I came out, and he’d always come to my defense whenever someone raised an issue with my being gay. His heterosexuality was the one thing that kept me from fully believing in a loving, compassionate God.
Then there was the rising third year, Todd: thin, lanky, and aggressively heterosexual. He was kind of cute in that sinewy Pete Davidson kind of way. But his sexual misdeeds were an open secret, as even I knew that his rich parents had paid for at least three girls to get out of “trouble.” He sat two rows in front of me, secretly watching Twitter porn on his phone and shooting nervous looks whenever anyone walked past in the aisle.
There was the rising fourth year, Elijah: a short, kind of beefy redhead with a boy-next-door haircut and pouty lips that would look perfect on my pink purse. But he was the least likely of all my suitors–practically married to Jesus already, he never went anywhere without his cross necklace and Bible. Even now he was nose-deep in it when he should have been nose-deep in something much softer and wetter.
(I mean my pussy. Just in case you were wondering.)
The rest of the college kids on the mission trip were all girls, so there was no chance there. No, it seemed as though the next week of my life was destined to remain as virginal as the last 18 years of my life.
Then Pastor Carl sat down next to me.
“Hey Leo,” he said casually. He gave me that classic straight guy nod, like one of those old guys who’s just “one of the kids.”
In Pastor Carl’s case, however, he kind of was. This man was not your average pastor: slicked-back hair, muscular arms covered with tattoos, always wearing his signature beanie and oversized Jeffrey Dahmer glasses. He still wore skinny jeans, which was somehow hot and not offputting based on his age and the fact that it wasn’t 2008. He was like 35 or so, which was practically ancient as far as I was concerned but still young enough to seem relevant. We all really liked him because he would always talk frankly with us about stuff like drinking or smoking pot.
He was also really fucking hot.
Pastor Carl sighed, stretching his legs out in the narrow space. “I love these trips,” he said, gazing out the window for a moment. “Being of service… it gives me a chance to reflect, you know? Unplug from the world, get out of the usual routine.”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t sound too excited.”
“As excited as I can be about manual labor.”
He laughed. “I hear you. God’s work isn’t always glamorous, but we’ll make sure to have some fun too.” He winked at me.
I found myself blushing. Did he mean it like I thought he did? No, that was ridiculous. The man was married, and besides, he was totally Christian. Sure, he had big biceps and he smelled like sandalwood and musk. And yes, I had pictured myself sucking on his foreskin like any red-blooded American twink would. But that was a fantasy, right?
“Tell me, what’s one thing you’re looking forward to this week?” he asked.
“I guess the camping trip at Lake Laurie next weekend.”
He smiled. “That’s my favorite part too. It’ll be good to relax after a week of doing God’s work. Lay out in the sun, get that tan going…”
He stretched his arms up high, causing his shirt to ride up a little. I glanced down to see a treasure trail leading underneath his jeans. Fuck.
When I looked up, he was smiling at me.
“So, Leo.” His voice was low now, and he leaned in like we were sharing a secret. “You dating anyone? Got a girlfriend or… boyfriend, maybe?”
I swallowed. Pastor Carl knew very well I was gay–the whole church did. Not that he and I had ever talked about it. But based on the way this conversation was going, perhaps we should have!
“N-no,” I said, caught off guard. I took a moment to collect myself then turned toward him, crossing my legs and batting my eyes. “I mean, I had a boyfriend for a little while, but… it didn’t work out.”
He smiled. “I just wanna say I think you’re really brave. Living in your truth like that.”
I smiled shyly. “Thanks. It’s just who I am, I guess. God just… showed me what I wanted. Who am I to say no to that?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He put a hand to his chest. “I mean, I personally don’t agree with the lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you for being yourself. Hate the sin, love the sinner, right?”
I giggled, brushing back my brown curls. “You’re so right, Pastor Carl.”
He leaned in closer, his cologne wafting into my nose like the smell of Brock’s sweaty balls after football practice. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that temptation is everywhere. I’m a happily married man, but that doesn’t mean God doesn’t put my faith to the test every day. It’s tough, especially when there’s so much out there to want. You know what I’m saying?”
I touched his bicep, giving it a subtle squeeze. “I know exactly what you mean.”
He smiled, and I was almost entirely sure that he was flexing his arm for me. But before anything else could happen, I spotted my father lumbering down the aisle toward me. I took my hand away from the pastor’s arm and leaned back in my seat.
“Thanks for the talk, Pastor Carl,” I said.
He patted my leg. “Anytime.”
He got up and passed my father in the aisle, greeting him with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. Dad sat down next to me, his heft taking up the whole seat and then some.
“How you doing, son? I hope you’re talking to the other kids, not just isolating back here and listening to Taylor Swift.”
My face reddened. “I’m fine, Dad. I don’t need you looking out for me this week, okay? I can handle myself.”
My dad grunted. “Sure you can. I just thought maybe we could bond a little this week, father and son. How’s that sound?”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Your mom was devastated she couldn’t come on the trip, you know how much she loves home renovation. If she hadn’t caught that damn African sleeping sickness, it would be the three of us on a Wyte family adventure. But you and I can still have fun, right?”
He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I avoided his gaze–I was still pretty peeved about him cucking me and I didn’t want him to think we were too chummy.
“Well, Leo? What do you say?”
I spotted Pastor Carl sitting toward the front of the bus. He caught my eye and winked at me.
“Sure, Dad. That sounds like fun.”
I spent the rest of the bus ride brainstorming ways to seduce the pastor. I could come on strong, find some excuse to be alone with him and just drop trou. But I wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to fuck me, and I didn’t want to run the risk that he’d freak and tell my dad. If I was going to seduce him, I had to be cautious and feel him out. Plus with my dad on the trip, I had to take extra care not to let him know my intentions. After what happened with Kevin and Brock, I didn’t trust him to be within ten feet of Pastor Carl. Luckily, my dad tended to think with his dick instead of his brain, so I knew a little creative maneuvering could help me throw him off the scent.
All I needed to do was make Dad think I was interested in one of the other college boys, then I’d be free to pursue Pastor Carl while Dad was distracted. But who to pick? Levi wouldn’t work–he was too good of a friend and I didn’t want to fuck that up. Todd was hot enough, and he certainly had the sex drive I was looking for, but my dad would never buy it. That just left…
“Hey, Elijah!” I said cheerily when we got off the bus.
He turned to look at me, those pouty red lips parted in an “o” of surprise. “Oh… hey Leo. How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. It’s going.” I dragged my bag behind me, making a show of how heavy it was.
“Are you having trouble?” he asked, eyeing my bag.
I put my hand on my cheek, feigning embarrassment. “Oh gosh. You must think I’m such a wimp. I thought I’d packed light, but…” I looked down at his beefy chest. “I guess I’m just not as strong and manly as you are.”
He swallowed. “Uh, I could carry it for you if you wanted.”
My eyes lit up. “Really? Oh, thank you so much! You’re such a gentleman.”
I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then dropped the bag on the ground with a big thud.
He picked it up and hefted it over his shoulder, his cross necklace swinging against his chest with the effort. I saw my father watching me warily, his jaw clenched tightly. I gave him a little wave and skipped along into the church.
We were staying at some old Baptist church in North Carolina, a great big building that sat empty during the week when it wasn’t Sunday. This would be our lodging until Friday when we would set off for Lake Laurie and camp until Sunday morning. The boys were staying in one of the preschool classrooms at the far end of the church, while the girls were staying in the parlor off of the sanctuary. As the male chaperone, my father would be staying with us, while the female chaperone would stay with the girls. Since my mother couldn’t come, the female chaperone was Mrs. Turnbright, Elijah’s mother. She was a cold, stern woman, and I could tell she didn’t think much of me after I came out of the closet. Well, her opinion of me was about to get a whole lot worse!
“Come pull your sleeping bag next to me, Elijah,” I said, patting the spot beside me.
He shot a look at Todd, then set his bag down on the floor next to mine.
“I just wanted to say, I really admire your faith,” I said, shaking my head in what I hoped was warm admiration. “You’re the only guy I know who really practices what you preach.”
He smiled, fingering his cross necklace. “Yeah.”
“I would love to pick your brain about a few things this week,” I said. “Like, what’s the deal with Job? God kept doing all that shit to him and he just took it. Was he stupid?”
We were interrupted by Todd, who dropped his sleeping bag next to Elijah’s. “Yo, you guys ready to get lit this week or what?” He unzipped his bag to show a small liter of vodka. “When the old folks go to sleep, I say we meet in the sanctuary. Bring the girls, get a little frisky. What do you say?”
Elijah frowned. “I don’t think so. We’re staying at a church. That feels… kinda wrong.”
Todd zipped his bag and blew a raspberry. “Boo. You guys are boring. I’m sure Levi’s with me, right dude?”
Levi was currently rifling through his bag. “Don’t bring me into this, man.”
Todd made a tsking sound. “Whatever. Y’all are just mad 'cause I’m the only one getting pussy.”
His eyes snapped up to the door when my dad entered, lugging a large duffel bag and an extra large sleeping bag. “Listen up, boys,” he said, swinging the door shut behind him. “I know you’re all adults, but when you’re under our roof, you abide by our rules. That means I don’t wanna see any purpling this week, you hear?”
Todd frowned. “Purpling?”
Dad grunted. “Boys are blue, girls are red. They don’t mix. We clear?”
The boys all nodded. Little did Dad know, however, that I intended to make a deep, dark shade of indigo.
The next day, they got us up at dawn to eat breakfast before heading out to work for the day. I made sure to slide in next to Elijah, chatting him up and laughing at all of his jokes (at least, I think they were jokes. It’s hard to tell with him). It didn’t seem to matter, as Dad kept glancing over at us.
Perfect. He was biting.
After breakfast, we piled into the rental vans. Dad pulled Elijah aside, saying, “Why don’t you ride in my van, son?” He put his arm around Elijah and rustled his hair. “I’d love to pick your brain about how the Bulldogs are doing this season.”
I stifled a smirk. Man, Dad was gullible. I hopped into the front seat of the other van, right beside Pastor Carl. The scent of his cologne was even stronger in the confined space, and I had to remind myself to breathe normally.
“Where are we going, today?” I asked.
“There’s a little old lady from the church who needs help cleaning out her basement. You ready for some heavy lifting?”
I pouted, leaning back. “I’m no good at all that. I’ve tried going to the gym but I just can’t get big. Not like you, Pastor Carl.”
He chuckled, his fingers drumming the wheel. “It just takes time. You’ve got the frame for it, though. Don’t give up too soon.”
I blinked, playing it up. “You really think so?” I pulled my legs up onto the seat, tucking them sideways. His eyes lingered, just for a second, on my thighs, smooth and pale against the dark interior.
“Definitely,” he said, his voice a little lower than before.
When we got there, an old lady with a bright smile was waiting for us outside the house.
“Oh, thank you all so much!” she said. “I don’t get down to the basement anymore, not since my husband passed.”
Pastor Carl clasped her hands gently, all warmth. “It’s our pleasure, Magdalene. We’re here to help.”
It may have been his pleasure, but it certainly was not mine. The basement was dank and mildewy and smelled like shit. Everything was caked in a layer of mold and I nearly gagged having to carry this shit outside. The only thing that kept me going was that Pastor Carl was wearing a tank top, which showed off his ridiculously buff and tan shoulders. His shirt left little to the imagination, revealing flexing muscles and more tattoos than I’d ever seen before. They crept underneath his shirt, invoking my curiosity. I donned a face mask and a pair of gloves, tried to breathe through my mouth, and concentrated on what it would be like to get in the pastor’s pants.
We worked for hours, breaking only for lunch. By the time we got home, I was so exhausted I could barely make it through dinner. I made a half-hearted attempt to flirt with Elijah a bit then crawled into my sleeping bag and passed out.
The next day we went to a different house out in the country. This time some single mother needed us to paint a nursery, which required at least four coats of paint to cover up the hideous shade of burgundy underneath. It was another scorcher of a day and the lady was so poor she didn’t even have AC (ugh), so I was absolutely drenched by the time lunch came around.
We ate prepackaged sandwiches and chips at a picnic table in the backyard. Dad had already planted himself beside Elijah, so I sat down next to the pastor and opened my sandwich. The afternoon heat clung to him and I wondered what his balls must smell like.
“You did real good this morning, Leo,” he said, taking a big bite of his sandwich.
I shrugged. “Thanks. Like you said, it’s good to help out.”
“I know you said you had trouble growing muscle, but I think you look pretty good.” He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “You’re growing into a pretty strong man.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice cracking.
He wiped his hands and stood up. “Why don’t you take a walk with me?” He beckoned me with a casual nod, but there was something in his eyes that made my pussy throb.
My dad was deep in a conversation with Elijah, so I stood and followed him into the woods behind the house. The sun filtered through the trees, casting patches of light on the dirt path. We walked in silence for a while until we couldn’t see anyone else. It was hot and I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, but I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.
“It must be nice having your dad on this trip,” Pastor Carl said after a while, glancing over at me.
I snorted. “If by ‘nice’ you mean ‘annoying.’”
“I’m sure it’s tough for him, you going off to college so soon.”
I frowned. “It’s more than that. He’s too… protective, you know? Like he doesn’t want me to have a life, let alone a boyfriend.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at me. “Why do you think that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just has a habit of getting up in my business, let’s say.”
We walked a little further, the air thick with humidity. Pastor Carl had his hands tucked behind his back, his shoulders flexing. They were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. God, I wanted to lick it off him so bad.
“So,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “I know you said you don’t have a boyfriend, but do you have anyone special in your life right now?”
I shook my head.
“Really?” he said, his tone surprised. “A good-looking guy like you… I figure you’d have your pick of admirers.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. “I guess. I don’t know, boys are complicated.”
Pastor Carl chuckled, his eyes never leaving me. “Yes, they are. Mind if I ask? What kind of guys do you like?”
I stopped walking. My throat tightened, but I met his gaze, my voice soft. “Lots of kinds. I’ve always liked a man’s man, you know? Someone with muscles… someone strong.”
His smile was lazy, almost teasing. “Yeah? You like the athletic type?”
I nodded.
“Guys like Elijah?” His tone was teasing, but there was a sharpness to it as well.
“No, no not at all,” I said firmly.
“You too seem to be getting close,” he said. “I wouldn’t blame you for-”
“I like older guys,” I said quickly.
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
I nodded. “I mean, not that I’ve ever… I mean…”
He laughed. “I know what you mean.” He was silent for a moment, then said, “What about tattoos? You like a guy with ink?”
I felt a stirring in my shorts. He was still smiling casually at me. The tension between us was thicker than the humidity, and I couldn’t tell if this conversation was innocent anymore–or if we’d already crossed the line.
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
“How about foreskin?”
I nearly tripped over a log at that point. We were definitely past the line now.
Pastor Carl laughed and put a hand out to steady me. “I only ask because when I was your age, guys used to make fun of me for being uncut. I was just curious if things had changed.”
My eyes flitted down to his package. I could see a faint outline under his basketball shorts. My mouth watered so much I had to swallow.
“Yeah, I mean, I love… foreskin.”
He smiled. “Nice. I used to be embarrassed about it, but the ladies tend to dig it. Good to know it’s the same for guys.”
“You mean, your wife, or…?” I asked slowly.
“Nah, she’s not about it. I had some girlfriends before her though…” He grinned. “Let’s just say I was kind of a wild teenager before I met her. Don’t get me wrong–she’s great, really. But we’ve been together a long time. You know how it gets.”
“That’s a shame.”
He sighed. “Married life is a blessing, for sure. Still, sometimes I miss the excitement of it all, you know? That feeling when you pull it out and she’s just… wild for it.”
I felt dizzy. Before I could say anything, Pastor Carl clapped me on the shoulder.
“Speaking of which, I gotta take a leak. Give me a sec, bud.”
He took a few steps away from me and stopped in front of a tree. A few seconds later I heard the sound of water hitting the ground. His back looked so broad facing away from me, his head tilted back slightly as he pissed.
“Hmmm…” He moaned slightly, closing his eyes as his face went slack.
If this wasn’t an invitation to take a peek, I didn’t know what the fuck was. I wavered for a moment before my curiosity got the better of me. I crept toward him and angled my head to sneak a peek.
His cock was long and thin, the piss shooting out from hooded, droopy foreskin. My jaw dropped as I took in the sight of it. His pubes were trimmed short so that only a thin layer of hair covered the area over his cock. He gave it a couple of shakes, causing droplets of piss to fling everywhere as his cock flopped about. I stared transfixed, salivating at the sight of his manhood. I took a mental snapshot for my spank bank and leaned backward, just in time for him to finish pissing and open his eyes.
His basketball shorts thwacked against his stomach as he tucked himself back in. “Well, shall we?”
When we got back to the house, my dad was standing there with his arms crossed.
“There you are, Leo,” he said sternly. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“That’s my fault, Jud.” Pastor Carl clasped his palms together and bowed his head slightly. “I was just giving Leo here a little spiritual guidance.”
Dad grunted. I didn’t like the look on his face–did he know about me and the pastor? If he was suspicious, all my efforts would be for nothing. I would have to double my efforts with Elijah going forward.
We spent the second part of the day painting the woman’s upstairs bathroom. I snagged a seat next to Elijah on the ride home, but my thoughts were consumed by Pastor Carl. Now that I was almost certain he was down to clown, all I needed was to find a way to get him alone. But how? We were surrounded by other people, and there was only so long we could be off by ourselves before someone (my dad) would get suspicious. The only real opportunity would be the camping trip when we would all be sharing tents in partners of two. If I could only find a way to be paired with the pastor…
“Leo?”
I turned to see Elijah staring at me expectantly.
I smiled apologetically. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Elijah looked around cautiously, then said in a low voice, “What’s it like… being gay?”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. Kind of boring and men generally suck. How’s being straight?”
Elijah didn’t have a response to that. He blushed and sat back in his seat. “I was… I mean, I just thought… I’ve never met a gay person before,” he said quietly.
“Well, now you have,” I said dismissively. “They’re all exactly like me, so get used to it.”
I stared at my dad and Pastor Carl, who were sitting next to each other in the front of the van. They were in the middle of a conversation and my dad was laughing loudly.
“How did you know you were gay?” Elijah asked hesitantly.
I watched my dad carefully. “I don’t know. The usual. I looked at guys and thought about fucking them.”
I frowned as Dad let out another belly laugh. He was never this chummy with Pastor Carl back home–what was he playing at?
“But how did you know it wasn’t just a phase?” asked Elijah.
I sighed. “I suppose after a couple of years of jerking off to Randy Blue I figured it wasn’t a fluke. Plus I made out with Sebastian Smith freshman year and would have gone further if his mother wasn’t so damn punctual.”
I saw Dad put his hand on Pastor Carl’s shoulder and squeeze it affectionally. I felt the heat rise under my skin.
“What was that like?” Elijah asked, eyes wide.
“Jesus, what’s up with the third degree?” I snapped. “You like Jesus, I like gay sex. It’s not that complicated.”
I sat back in my chair, pulling out my headphones and trying to drown out my father’s boisterous laugh. Elijah was quiet for the rest of the ride back. As we climbed out of the van, I spotted Pastor Carl and my dad slipping off toward the church entrance. I was about to follow when I felt a sudden, firm grip on my shoulder.
“Leo, you’re just the boy I was looking for.”
Elijah’s mom looked at me with a grim smile on her face. “You’re on kitchen duty tonight. We’re making sloppy Joe’s.”
I looked back towards where my father and the pastor had been, but they’d disappeared.
“Could I just–”
“No no, I need you now,” she said sternly. “Follow me.”
Elijah appeared at my side, his eyes round and innocent. “Do you need any help?”
“No,” snapped his mother. “You can clean out the paint brushes from earlier. I need Leo focused on the kitchen. ”
Elijah looked at me for a moment, dejected, then headed back to the van to grab the paint supplies.
Inside, Mrs. Turnbright handed me a chopping board and some onions, watching me like a hawk as I sliced through them. “I don’t know what kind of discipline you’re used to from that father of yours, but in my kitchen, we keep things neat,” she said, flicking a stray onion peel off the counter. “Cleanliness is next to godliness, and I won’t have the likes of you soiling this church kitchen.”
I rolled my eyes. With such a cockblock of a mom, it was no wonder Elijah was so messed up.
When I finally escaped the kitchen and made my way into the fellowship hall, I spotted Dad and Pastor Carl coming back inside.
“Dad!” I called out, crossing my arms. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, just catching up with my good friend Pastor Carl.” He rubbed my shoulder, his thick fingers kneading my skin. “What’s for dinner? Smells good.”
He walked past me toward the table as Pastor Carl took a seat at the other end. He didn’t look like he’d just had the living daylights fucked out of him, but I couldn’t know for certain. If Dad ruined this for me, I swear to God…
After dinner, we all gathered together to watch a movie in the parlor. A bunch of couches sat sprawled out across the room, with a few cushioned chairs peppered in between. While my dad got the TV set up, I squeezed my way in between Elijah and Pastor Carl on the couch.
“Dinner was excellent,” said Pastor Carl, flashing me that lazy, sexy smile.
“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks getting warm.
“Yeah Leo, I thought it was awesome,” Elijah said, grinning.
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
“All right,” Dad announced. “Movie night’s on. This one’s a classic!”
I stifled a groan as black-and-white scenes flickered onto the screen. I was just about to recede into myself for the next hour and a half when Pastor Carl shifted closer and said, “I’m kind of cold. Want me to grab a blanket?”
It took me a second to realize what he was suggesting. I grinned. “I would love that.”
He grabbed a blanket from the closet and sat back down, draping it over the two of us. I snuggled into it, tucking my legs under the covers. After a moment, I felt Pastor Carl’s knee leaning up against mine.
I turned to look at him, but his eyes were fixated on the screen. Testing the waters, I nudged my leg against his, feeling the rough hairs of his calf brushing against my smooth skin.
I snuck a glance at Dad across the room, relieved to see him engrossed in the movie. Inching closer under the blanket, I let my hand rest on Pastor Carl’s leg. It was warm and hairy, and I slowly rubbed back and forth against his thigh. Suddenly I felt his hand gripping mine tightly. I looked at his face, panicked, but he stared ahead completely calm. He slowly slid my hand up the leg of his basketball shorts, guiding me closer to the promised land. Holy shit! This was finally happening!
I felt the hairs on his leg grow coarser the closer they got to his cock. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt up the pastor, only a thin blanket shielding us from sight. I slid my hand up further up his leg, expecting to run into some cotton briefs or boxers, when I brushed up against something warm and spongy. Was that his dick? Was he going commando? I risked a quick glance at his face, but he was completely expressionless. Slipping my hand further inside, I wrapped my fingers around his cock and squeezed. This made him take a deep breath in, although he played it off like it was nothing. I stroked him softly underneath the blanket, careful not to move too quickly or conspicuously. I could feel him growing harder in my hand, his cock lengthening until it reached halfway toward his knee.
His foreskin was warm and loose in my hand. I remembered how delicious it had looked on our walk, hanging low with piss dribbling out of it. God, what I would have given to lean over and put it in my mouth. I pulled it back, unsheathing the head of his cock. He let out a low moan, which he quickly passed off as a cough.
“Do that again,” he said under his breath.
I loosened my grip on his foreskin, then pulled it back to expose his cock once more. He shifted slightly in his seat, but I could tell he was suppressing some pretty stellar moans. Emboldened, I started stroking him a little faster.
I couldn’t believe I was actually jerking off my pastor–and in the middle of a room of churchgoers, no less! I looked around, but everyone was staring at the television, not paying us the least of mind. Everyone, that is, but my father. He was squinting at me, his eyebrow raised slightly in suspicion. I froze in shock, quickly letting go of the pastor’s cock.
Had he seen me? Did he know? If I got caught, I could kiss my fling with the pastor goodbye.
But then, as if handed down on a platter from God, a miracle happened.
“I’m feeling a little chilly too,” Elijah whispered in my ear. “Mind if I share the blanket, Leo?”
I smiled. “Of course!” I said sweetly.
He grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over himself so that the three of us were all covered. My dad was still watching me as I rested my hand on Elijah’s leg.
Elijah turned and looked at me. “What… what are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Just trying to get comfortable. You don’t mind, right?”
“N-no…” he said softly.
I sat there for a moment, my left hand resting on the pastor’s leg while my right hand rested on Elijah’s. I could feel my dad’s eyes on me, but I stared straight ahead at the television, unfazed.
After a moment, I slid my hands a little higher up each of their legs. I could hear Elijah do a sharp intake of breath, but he said nothing. I kept my hands moving slowly, inch by inch, until finally my left hand was touching the pastor’s balls and my right was touching Elijah’s cotton boxer briefs.
Elijah shot me a look, his eyes bulging in fear. I could feel that he had a giant hard-on in his underwear–interesting. Perhaps he was gay after all? Or perhaps I was just that good at handjobs (never underestimate your own strength!). In any event, my dad was still staring at me, so I slid my hand underneath his boxer briefs and pulled out his cock. Elijah let out a light whimper, but other than that he kept it together. I never felt more powerful as I gripped the two cocks in my hands. Why else would God give me two hands unless he wanted me to jerk off two men at the same time? Unnatural desire my ass.
I stroked Pastor Carl and Elijah slowly but deliberately, savoring the feeling of their warm, hard cocks. I kept my strokes with Pastor Carl slow and subtle while not bothering to hide what I was doing to Elijah. How else would I throw my father off the scent? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and I could see him staring at the moving blanket over Elijah’s crotch.
I stroked the two men faster, eager to get them off in front of my father. After the men he’d seduced out from underneath me, it felt like poetic justice to pleasure two men without him being able to do a thing about it. Both Pastor Carl and Elijah were breathing heavily, although Elijah wasn’t as able to mask it as well as Pastor Carl. After a few minutes, my fingers were slick with precum and Elijah was leaning back into the seat, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and anxiety.
I took a moment to explore the difference between their cocks. Pastor Carl was long and thin, his foreskin making it easier to stroke a load out of him. Elijah was circumcised but thick, and I could feel his bushy pubes with every stroke. I felt like a gay milkmaid, milking my two men to completion until they gave me their creamy white loads.
I could feel they were about to cum a second before they did. A ripple of tension ran through each of their cocks, then I felt wetness dripping through my fingers. I had brought them off together, at the same time! What a talent. I should go on the X-Factor, I really should.
I gave both cocks a tight squeeze, milking the last dribbles of cum out of each of them. Dad was still staring at me, and he looked like he was steaming. I pulled my right hand out from underneath the blanket. It was sticky with cum. Looking my dad in the eye, I gave my palm a lick. To his credit, Dad didn’t look away as I cleaned Elijah’s cum off my hand. I would have gladly eaten Pastor Carl’s cum too, but then that would have defeated the purpose. Instead, I discreetly wiped my left hand on the inside of the blanket and curled up against Elijah.
“Wow,” he said breathlessly.
“I know,” I whispered.
I gave my dad one final wink, then settled in to watch the rest of the movie.
The next few days, Elijah and I didn’t get a second alone together. Dad was on him like a fly, sitting next to him at breakfast, riding with him in the van, asking for his help in the kitchen preparing dinner. That was just fine by me–it gave me plenty of time to schmooze up to Pastor Carl.
He didn’t let on about what happened at movie night, which was fine with me. I liked this game we were playing–the secrecy was half the fun. Plus I was pretty sure I would seal the deal that weekend during the camping trip.
Everybody shared a tent with one other person: boys with boys, girls with girls. As the male chaperone, my father would share a tent with Pastor Carl, while Mrs. Turnbright would stay in a tent on her own. I was to be paired with Elijah, but I was more than confident that my father would find a way to intervene.
We left shortly after breakfast on Friday, making the long drive out to Lake Laurie. I spent the drive sitting next to Elijah, making sure to laugh loudly enough for my father to hear and to touch his arm plenty of times. Elijah’s face got pretty red during the drive, not really sure what that was all about. Maybe rosacea or something? Anyway, by the time we got to Lake Laurie, Dad was fuming and I was horny and Elijah looked like a nervous cat.
“So, where do you want to set up our tent?” he asked me once we’d pulled our bags out of the van.
“There’s been a change of plans,” said my Dad.
He pulled a handle of vodka out of the car and looked at us sternly. “I found this in the trunk. Must have rolled out of one of y’alls bags.”
“It’s not mine, sir!” said Elijah, wide-eyed.
“No way to know whose it is for sure, son,” said Dad. “But I don’t trust either of you not to get into any mischief tonight. The only thing to do is split you up, keep a better eye on you.”
“Ugh, that’s so not fair, Dad!” I said, sounding as whiny as I could.
“Nothing to be done for it,” said Dad. “Elijah, you’ll be with me tonight. Leo, you’re with Pastor Carl.”
My face didn’t betray a hint of a smile. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, honestly. I put my hand on Elijah’s cheek and rubbed it with my thumb. “Oh well. Another time, I guess.”
Elijah looked at me forlornly, then grabbed his bag and followed my dad toward the campsite.
Pastor Carl shut the van door and walked up beside me. “Don’t suppose you had anything to do with that?” he asked.
I pretended to look offended. “I would never! I’m devastated–I was planning on sealing the deal tonight. Guess I’ll have to go to bed unsatisfied…”
I walked past him toward the campground, swaying my ass slightly. I didn’t need to look back to know he was staring after me.
We spent the late afternoon swimming in the lake. I was the only one who thought to pack a Speedo, a skimpy and tan-colored little number that made it look like I was naked from far away. I wanted to wear my mesh thong swimsuit, but Dad talked me out of it. All the other boys were wearing boring old board shorts that went down to the knees, although Pastor Carl at least wore ones with a five-inch inseam.
He kept his shirt on at first, talking to my dad and Mrs. Turnbright by the edge of the lake while the rest of us swam. I kept peeking over, trying to see if he was shirtless yet, when finally Todd yelled, “Yo, Pastor C! You guys coming in or what?”
Pastor Carl grinned, then shucked off his shirt and ran toward the water’s edge. I’d never seen him shirtless before, and damn did it take my breath away. He had a deep tan, his torso ripped and covered in a series of fine-line tattoos. I could also see a thin layer of hair covering his chest and abs, bleached slightly from the sun. He waded into the water, then flicked a little bit of it at me and grinned when I squealed.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“Just wanted to get your hair wet,” he said, grinning.
At that, he started to chase me, and I squealed again as I slipped away from him and swam as fast as I could in the other direction. Everyone else was doing their own thing, so no one paid us any attention as Pastor Carl and I played our little game of cat and mouse. Finally, he cornered me by the dock, grabbing my arm and pulling me in close to him.
“Caught you!” he said. His hands slipped around my waist, squeezing me softly. If my lower half wasn’t underwater, my boner would have been there for the whole world to see. As it was, we were mostly shielded under the dock, so no one could really see us anyway.
“Yeah?” I said peevishly. “What are you gonna do?”
I grabbed the bottom of his swimsuit and pulled him a bit closer. My fingers brushed against something hard, warm, and wet.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Why don’t you ask me that again tonight?”
I giggled and pulled his head into the crook of my neck, moaning as I felt his lips nuzzling against me. His erection was digging into my leg, and it took everything in me not to slip out of my swimsuit and bend over right then and there. Even though we were mostly shielded by the dock, my dad was still lurking around somewhere. I jerked my head around, trying to find him, but all I could see were a few of the other college kids splashing around a hundred yards away. No one was paying us any attention, not that they could have seen us behind the dock.
I was about to turn back so I could finally grab a taste of his hot mouth when I saw two figures emerging from the water onto the shoreline. Squinting, I could just barely make out my dad’s burly frame lumbering onto the sand, his arm wrapped around Elijah as he tousled the boy’s red hair.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” moaned Pastor Carl. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them around his waist, then slid his hands underneath my bathing suit to squeeze my ass.
I watched my father lead Elijah away from the lake. They soon slipped through the trees and were gone from sight. Where the fuck were they going?
I felt the tips of Pastor Carl’s fingers brush up against my hole. He was just about to slip one inside when I unwrapped my legs from around him and pushed him backward.
“One sec,” I said, turning and swimming to shore.
“Where are you going?” he called after me, his voice tinged with annoyance.
“I’ll be right back, I promise!”
By the time I got to the shoreline, I couldn’t see my father or Elijah anywhere. Mrs. Turnbright was sitting on a beach chair, nose-deep in The Purpose Driven Life.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Did you see my dad go past?”
She glanced at my cute bubble butt hanging out of my speedo and scowled. “I’m not your father’s keeper.”
I refrained from calling her the C-word and kept walking away from the lake. The parking lot was only a few minutes away. Maybe they went back to grab something from the car? But when I got there, there was no one around.
Where could they have gone? We hadn’t set up our tents yet. The campsite was supposed to be a few minutes north of the lake, but I didn’t know exactly where. Could my father be doing what I thought he was doing? I couldn’t see how. Elijah was as straight and religious as they come. I mean, aside from my amazing handjob. But there’s no way he would fuck my dad! Even so, a part of me needed to know if it was true.
I looked up at the sun in the sky, trying to determine which way was to the north. Let’s see… the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, so the north must be somewhere off in the opposite direction of the lake. I set off, determined to see if my suspicions were true.
After about ten minutes of walking, I couldn’t find anything that looked like a campsite, let alone a path. I pressed on though, determined to catch my father in the act if I could. I walked for another ten minutes before I noticed the sun getting a little low in the sky. Wherever they were, I wasn’t going to find them by just wandering aimlessly around. Frustrated, I decided to throw in the towel and turn back.
After about five minutes of walking, I suddenly realized that I had no recognition of where I was. I should have just walked through here, right? Then why did everything look so unfamiliar? I turned ninety degrees and walked for about five more minutes, trying to see if I could see anything I recognized.
Nothing. Everywhere I looked was the same dense collection of trees, dried brush, and foliage. I could barely make out the sun anymore. I walked for an hour, no longer caring about the direction I was going in but determined to find my way to some semblance of civilization. Even a road I would have been grateful for! I was also painfully aware that I was wearing nothing but a Speedo, although luckily it was warm enough that I wasn’t freezing. Still, I was getting plenty scratched by the trees and branches that whipped past me. Why did being such a dumb slut have to come back and bite me in the ass? God really does save his hardest struggles for his strongest warriors.
By the time night fell, I was almost delirious. “You guys!” I shouted every few seconds. “Dad! Pastor Carl! Elijah!”
Nobody answered. It was just me and the sound of crickets, lost in the neverending forest. I made my way by the faint glint of the moon, hoping I didn’t die a lonely, homosexual virgin (in fucking North Carolina of all places).
Finally, after what felt like an entire evening of wandering but was likely only a couple of hours, I saw a faint glow of light through the trees. I emerged onto a clearing dotted with tents. I rapped on the outside of one of them, calling out frantically, “Hello! Is anyone in there?”
After a moment, the tent unzipped and Mrs. Turnbright’s ugly face peered out at me. “There you are!” she said angrily. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I got lost,” I said, trying to wipe the mud off my arms.
She pursed her lips. “Well, don’t expect me to help you clean up. Showers are that way. Try not to get lost again on your way, hmm?”
She zipped her tent back up. I walked over to the outdoor shower and turned it on, scrubbing the mud and dirt that had caked into my skin. I didn’t have a towel with me, so I was forced to walk dripping with water until I found my tent. Pastor Carl must have set it up without me, although he’d chosen a place that was way off from everyone else. I smiled with relief. Good–he was thinking ahead. I was all scratched up and my feet were killing me, but I could do with a good dicking down after everything I’d endured.
But before I could reach to unzip the tent, I heard a loud groan come from within.
“Fuck… oh yeah, just like that.”
My face turned white. It couldn’t be… could it? With trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper and pulled it open just a few inches.
The first thing I saw was Elijah’s broad shoulders, pale and freckled. He was facing away from me, the top of his head tilted slightly backward and his eyes closed in intense concentration. My father was a few feet away from him, sitting back on his heels as he knelt on the ground. He was also shirtless, his big, hairy chest covered in a sheen of sweat.
What the fuck were they doing? And why in my tent, of all places?
Then I heard a loud gagging sound as my father said, “Give him a little more. That’s it, he can take it.”
I unzipped the tent a little wider, my eyes growing wide as I saw Pastor Carl in between them. The man was crouched on all fours, naked as the day he was born. My father’s cock was buried balls-deep in his asshole, while Elijah’s cock was engulfed in his mouth. Every thrust of my father’s sent him further down Elijah’s cock, his nose buried in the boy’s fiery red pubes.
“Oh God,” moaned Elijah. “It feels so good.”
“Doesn’t it?” said Dad. “I told you, there’s nothing like a little bonding between men. It’s a tale as old as time.”
“But… I mean, isn’t this… wrong?”
Dad snorted. “It wasn’t wrong when you were letting my son jerk you off the other night, was it?”
Elijah blushed. “I don’t… That wasn’t-”
“I’m just fucking with you, boy!” My dad roared with laughter. “Look, I’m sure our heavenly Father has better things to do than worry about whose dick goes where. If Pastor Carl’s mouth wasn’t full of cock, he would agree with me.”
I could see Pastor Carl’s eyes, dull with lust and pleasure. He grabbed Elijah’s ass and pulled him closer, taking his cock deeper into his throat.
“Oh, shit,” moaned Elijah.
For as much as I pride myself on being a slut, Pastor Carl had me beat by a mile. He was arching his back like he took cock for a living, meeting my father’s thrusts with vigor. The way he bobbed his head on Elijah’s cock, slurping and sucking like his life depended on it, made me think that this was hardly his first time being used by men.
“If you’re going to watch, you might as well come in,” said my father suddenly.
My stomach dropped. Had he seen me? Was it too late for me to run away? No, the jig was up. I unzipped the tent and stepped inside, zipping it closed behind me.
Elijah turned his head, his ass cheeks clenching as he spotted me. “Leo! What… what are you doing here?”
I folded my arms petulantly. “Last I checked this was my tent, Elijah. What the hell are you guys doing?”
Dad spanked Pastor Carl, then pulled the man’s arms back like the reigns of a horse, yanking him away from Elijah’s cock. “What’s it look like, son?”
Pastor Carl didn’t even seem to acknowledge my presence. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hard cock swinging back and forth as my father pummeled his asshole.
“Fuck me, sir,” he moaned, his words slurring with lust.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again!” I whined. “How did you even know about us?”
Dad grabbed the Pastor by the hips and picked up the pace of his thrusts, battering the man’s colon and eliciting a long, low moan.
“You’re not as slick as you think you are, son.” Dad smirked. “Your little flirtation on the bus? Long walks, just the two of you? Jerking him off under that blanket? Come on–give me at least a little credit.”
“But what about Elijah?” I asked, gesturing to the college boy who was watching my father fuck Pastor Carl in something approaching religious awe.
Dad laughed. “Elijah here’s just a little curious. Since you barely gave him the time of day, outside of fake flirting and handjobs, I told him to come by Pastor Carl’s tent and see what kind of fun two men can get up to together.”
Elijah was staring at Pastor Carl’s dick, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Sir,” he said slowly, “do you think I could…”
“Go on, speak up, boy,” said Dad.
Elijah swallowed. “Can I… suck his dick?”
Dad looked at Pastor Carl. The man had a dopey grin on his face, his eyes closed in bliss. “Deeper…” he murmured. “Deeper…”
“I think that’s about as fine of a green light as you’re gonna get,” said Dad as he resumed his thrusts.
Elijah dropped to the ground, his face sliding closer to the pastor’s swinging cock. He watched his balls swing hypnotically, eyes following them back and forth like a pendulum. He stuck his tongue out, gently lapping one of the pastor’s testicles. He grinned. “It tastes good,” he said sheepishly.
As I watched Elijah suck one of Pastor Carl’s balls into his mouth, it struck me that I should be the one with the pastor’s genitals in my mouth. Me, not Elijah! Yet here I was, once again being cuckolded by my own father, not to mention the boy next door. Resigned, I sat back against the tent, pulled my cock out of my Speedo, and watched the show unfold.
Elijah took the head of Pastor Carl’s dick into his mouth, causing the man to groan and his head to loll forward. Dad gripped Pastor Carl by the shoulders, still ramming that thick meat stick deep into the man’s bowels. I tugged on my cock in the corner, equally aroused and infuriated by the events unfolding before me.
Elijah bobbed his head up and down on Pastor Carl’s cock, swirling his tongue around the man’s foreskin and grinning stupidly as he drank the man’s precum. My father watched him proudly, his eyes gleaming. After a few minutes of fellatio, he grabbed Elijah by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. The boy opened his mouth and received Dad’s tongue willingly, swapping spit with my father as Pastor Carl drooled in between them. After a moment, Dad broke the kiss, then turned Elijah’s head toward Pastor Carl. I watched in astonishment as the pastor and the college boy began to make out, frenching like star-crossed lovers.
When Elijah broke the kiss, the look he gave my dad was immediately understood. Without a word, Dad pulled his cock out of Pastor Carl, moving to the side to allow Elijah to take his place. Dad’s cock was wet with the pastor’s juices, still rock hard with that slight upward curve I had unfortunately become quite familiar with over these last few cucking sessions. Elijah’s cock wasn’t nearly as big as my father's, but it was just as hard and throbbing. He gripped Pastor Carl’s ass cheek with one hand, using the other to guide himself into the man’s well-used hole. Pastor Carl grunted, at which point my dad took the opportunity to shove his cock back inside the man’s mouth.
Elijah had a wild grin on his face as he fucked Pastor Carl, swinging his hips back and forth with reckless abandon. Dad gave him gentle pointers as he went along, encouraging him to pull the pastor’s hair and find just the right angle to hit the man’s prostate. All the while Elijah was growing bolder and sweatier, losing his grip on the pastor’s hips as his sweat trickled down his stomach and landed on the pastor’s thick, rippling ass.
“Oh my God, sir,” he said breathlessly. “It feels so… so warm and wet and… fuck!”
I had never heard Elijah curse before. Then again, I had never seen him fuck someone, let alone a man, so I assumed he was well past the point of caring about trivial things such as profanity.
“I’m proud of you, boy,” said my father. He grabbed Elijah by the back of the head and leaned their foreheads together, a strangely sweet moment in the midst of Eiffel Towering the local pastor.
I felt a moment of sadness as I watched them share Pastor Carl. I’m proud of you, boy. I couldn’t remember the last time Dad had told me he was proud of me. Is this what he wanted? To share another man with me, to teach me how to be the kind of top he was? Or maybe he didn’t want me there at all. Maybe he’d rather have Elijah as a son, the perfect, All-American boy.
Before I could ponder it any further, Elijah let out a long groan.
“Oh God, sir. I think… I’m gonna… oh, fuck!”
His eyes grew wide as he pumped his seed deep inside Pastor Carl. Dad pulled his cock out of the pastor’s mouth and started stroking it rapidly, grinning.
“That’s it, boy. Fill ‘im up!”
Elijah was shaking as his seed drained out of him. Pastor Carl barely seemed to notice, staring up at my father’s big cock with a look of complete wonder. Dad was jerking it an inch from the pastor’s face, and before Elijah had finished cumming, he let out a loud roar.
Large gobs of semen shot out of my dad’s cock, painting the pastor’s face like melting wax. Pastor Carl opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to taste as much semen as he could. I saw a few spurts land in his mouth, but most of it landed on his forehead, nose, and eyebrows. It dripped down his face and fell to the floor in slow, steady rivulets.
Dad wiped his cock on the pastor’s face as the man greedily sucked on the tip.
I could feel my own orgasm approaching. Boldly, I approached Pastor Carl, my cock pulsing in my hand.
“What’s this, son?” asked my dad.
“Ugh… fuck. Take that, Pastor Carl!”
I shot my load into his hair, coating his thick hair in my stick seed. It dripped down his face, joining my dad’s cum. Pastor Carl kept his tongue out, lapping up the last few spurts of my seed as my orgasm slowed.
Dad put a sweaty, sticky hand on my shoulder. “Well done, son. It’s good to see taking a page out of your old man’s book.”
I blushed, my cheeks glowing with pride. I tucked my cock back into my speedos. “What… what now?”
Dad shot a look at Pastor Carl drooling on the ground, then at Elijah, now awkward in his nakedness. “I think Pastor Carl and I have a few more things we want to show your friend here. Why don’t you go ahead and take my tent and we’ll see you in the morning?”
I frowned. “But-”
“Don’t talk back, now,” said Dad.
I looked at Elijah, who was blushing as if he didn’t just plow the shit out of a man twice his age right in front of me. Pastor Carl had been used and soiled so thoroughly that I knew I had even less chance of getting fucked by him than his poor wife did.
Dejected, I turned to leave.
“Oh,” said Dad as I reached the tent flap. “And don’t tell your mother.”
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