Emford was a good Mormon boy. He’d
observed all the laws and followed every instruction. He had fought to keep sin
out of his life and had channeled all his energy to doing his Mormon duty. So
it was with no trepidation that he set out to fulfill his duty by going on a
mission. In fact he was excited, terribly excited when he heard that he was to
go to the far flung and clearly uncivilized land of Hong Kong.
Oh how uncivilized it was. It
might have been a shining beacon from the sky, but nobody it seemed wanted to
be saved. People ignored him with a firm finality that convinced him that he
was invisible and door after door was sternly slammed into his face. When a
word was spoken, it was harsh and often unintelligible.
Still, Emford persisted. He
persisted even when the brother that had been assigned to him gave up, pleading
headaches and nausea. He persisted alone.
It was alone that he knocked on
one final door. It was getting late, far later then he was supposed to be out,
but Emford felt deep inside him that this was the day that he would finally
show someone the wonders of Jesus. He plastered on his most eager smile and
knocked stoutly three times.
The door opened to reveal… an
angel. At least that’s what Emford thought at the first sight of the man behind
the door. He was shorter then Emford by several inches but with a firm lithe
body. The face looked earnest and entirely innocent, with wide dark eyes, and
straight mouth that stared up at him like a schoolboy awaiting instruction. He
clearly was a man but there was a youthful sweetness about his face that
confused Emford.
“Yes?” said the man. Emford found
that his mouth was dry. He forgot what he was here to say. Then he remembered
and began his speech.
“Have you found Jesus in your
life?”
“I didn’t realize I’d lost him,”
said the man with a sweet grin. “Come in and help me find him.”
Despite the insult of blasphemy, Emford
was so delighted to have finally found a way in, he followed eagerly into the
small apartment, taking a seat on the couch when it was offered and pulling out
his bible. He was about to start with his next speech when his host turned
around and he realized that the man was wearing a furry tail.
Odd, but this was a foreign
country after all. He kept his eye on his book no matter how much he wanted to
follow the tail and instead started to talk about the angel Moroni. It was only
halfway through the speech he realized that he didn’t know his host’s name. He
asked bashfully, hoping that his rudeness would not reflect badly.
“Antonio,” replied the smooth
faced man in front of him. “Here have a drink.” He handed Emford a glass with
something.
Emford took a sip and coughed in
surprise, feeling his throat warm as the liquid dropped. He had never consumed
alcohol in his life and he knew it was a sin. “Is this alcohol?” he asked.
Antonio waved his question away. “Tell
me more about Jesus,” he said instead.
Emford felt suspicious but he
couldn’t ignore the invitation so he did, he explained all about the blessed
union and the messages brought by the lord savior. He talked so much he had to
sip from the glass and the more sipped the more he felt his head swim until his
words trailed away into nothing.
At this point, Antonio began to
rub his thigh and Emford distantly thought that this was probably not right. Closer
to the surface however, he marveled that the sensation was quite nice.
He was still staring at the
artistic fingers that were gently roving over his leg when suddenly he felt something
hot, wet and insistent against his lips. The fist gasp surprise drew him back
and he stared into the dark eyes that simply watched him, giving away no
secrets of their own.
“What… what are you doing?” he
stuttered.
“Helping you find Jesus,” came
the hushed reply which was then followed by another clasping of lips against
lips. Emford didn’t fight it this time, he’d always wondered what a kiss felt
like and he relaxed, tensing only when the mouth against his opened. He paused
then opened his mouth, unsure of what it meant but tense when he felt what was obviously
a playful tongue.
He would have complained, he told
himself he should, but the tingles started at his mouth and burned down his
body to further places that twitched and suddenly woke up. His body ached and
burned for things he didn’t know of. He actually felt disappointed when the
lips pulled away and he opened his eyes to stare at Antonio watching him with a
mischievous grin.
The impish expression was gone
the instant he saw it leaving Emford to wonder if he imagined it. He had no
time to wonder on it as Antonio filled his glass and began to talk of people he
knew.
“I’m having a party tonight, I’d
like you to stay for it,” he said. And Emford nodded sleepily. A party sounded
nice. He loved playing card games.
“My friends are all bringing
someone religious and really I was stuck, so it’s a miracle that you are here.”
Emford again nodded. He was a
miracle. He liked being described as a miracle. It was only a moment later that
he wondered what Antonio meant by religious people. Still Emford found that he
just liked to listen to the voice that washed over him though he had stopped
registering the words and he liked sipping from the glass.
Emford
wasn’t sure when he dozed off; apparently he was tired, only realizing when he
was woken by a loud moan. It was harmonised by other softer moans, hushed
gasping breath and odd dull smacking sounds.
Emford
rubbed his eyes until they focused on what was clearly two bodies writhing
together. Naked. Sweaty. Emford instantly turned his gaze but found himself
looking directly at a man with his tongue deep inside another man’s. Another
turn of his head and he was watching someone being whipped lightly.
Emford
sat up straight, his heart beating, his conscience trying very hard to scream
at him to leave. Then he saw it. Antonio standing in the doorway to his
kitchen, a catholic priest leering down at him, with hands fiddling with the
tail. As he watched, the older priest, put his hands on Antonio’s head, as if
to bless him, then firmly start to push downwards… towards what was obviously
the open fly of his pants.
For the
first time in his life, Emford felt the hot urgent flare of jealousy. It hadn’t
been that long ago that Antonio had been staring down and fondling him! Now he
was with the priest?! Emford had a mind to leave, but his jealousy aroused more
than anger, he had a stronger urge to save Antonio.
The
apartment was ridiculously small. It only took him three strides, well four
counting the large one he took stepping over the writhing figures of what
looked like two people to reach Antonio and the leering priest.
Emford
felt aggression rise as he shoved the priest away into the kitchen where in the
back of his mind, he realized three figures were each trying to take up one
space on the counter one of which a Middle Eastern man was in the middle. The
priest looked as if he was going to object but Emford didn’t want to fight.
Wouldn’t have known how, so instead he locked his lips on Antonio’s instead,
showing the priest that this choir boy was his.
Hours
could have passed, perhaps eternity though it was not long enough before
Antonio pulled away, the impish glint in his eyes stronger. “Come on, lover boy,”
he drawled, taking Emford’s hand and leading him to a closed door.
Emford
was very aware that the priest was staring at them both looking angry and yet also
as if he wanted to follow. Emford was worried that he might try to come after
them, but instead, he saw the hand slip rather subtly into his own fly.
Emford had
felt like preening himself as he followed Antonio but he deflated quickly when
he realized that he was entering the bedroom. There lay the bed, taking up most
of the room. The bed itself was so inviting, the colours warm, and the pillows
lush. But still! “Wait,” said Emford, his voice betraying his nervousness.
“For
what? You want to find God don’t you?” asked Antonio gently. He pushed Emford
on the bed and silenced him with a kiss.
“I saved
you,” he muttered against the hot urgent lips that were so insistent on staying
against his.
“I know,
saved me from the filthy debauched catholic priest! Excellent! I hope you have
much worse planned for me,” drawled Antonio. Emford opened his mouth to say
something towards the negative but he was silenced with another kiss.
His head
was swimming so much; he didn’t realize when he’d lain back down with his arms
above his head until he found he couldn’t pull them down! Panicking slightly he
struggled until Antonio shushed him. “It’s alright, been waiting all night, you
can show me Jesus, and I’ll show you God.”
“Why not
have the catholic priest show you?” asked Emford after a stray thought.
“That
stodgy priest? Nah, I’ve already played choir boy plenty of times, now I’m up for
a different role,” he whispered.
Suddenly,
Emford heard a muffled cry from the closet. It sounded like a person who was
trapped. “What is that?”
“Oh that,
just my gimp.”
“What?!”
Emford didn’t understand.
“He’s my
Westboro Baptist Church gimp. He’s just in training,” Antonio shrugged.
Emford
wanted to believe him, to sink into the warm embrace of those hot hands that
tickled and teased but he couldn’t let it go and he said so. Antonio sighed and
got up, walking to the closet and opening it, revealing a blond man with
frantic eyes inside a cage. He had a red ball in his mouth, secured with
leather and he was wearing a rather fetching leather suit.
Emford
was shocked and he cried, “you kidnapped him too?!”
“Kidnap? Hell
no, he loves it. Don’t you my widdle fuzzy poo,” Antonio continued to make
sickening little cooing noises at the man who looked up at him, eyes burning.
As if Antonio knew that Emford would not be convinced, he slipped the gag off
and instantly the man began frothing.
“Oh
please master, take me next. Me I want to be next. Not him!” Antonio let him
ramble for a while, smiling at Antonio as if to say ‘I told you so’ then
slipped the ball gag back on.
“Not yet…”
he mumbled as he closed the closet door and went back to Emford.
“I don’t
understand, he yearns for you.” Emford found it difficult to keep his eyes away
from the closet door.
“I know
but he’s terrible in bed. No stamina. Tiny dick. You are way hotter.” Emford
burned with the compliment and he couldn’t help smiling.
Then
suddenly he jumped up and started to undress, revealing for the first time the smooth
chest and then the strong legs. The tail, it became obvious, was not attached
to his trousers because it swung playfully even when Antonio was almost naked.
Seeing that
tail swing did funny things to Emford’s head and also sent disturbing feelings
to his more private regions. All of it was so unfamiliar but Emford was
beginning to guess that what he had assiduously avoided all his life was now
happening. Emford felt conflicted. He wanted to leave, he had to protect his
soul but he also wanted to stay, to feel Antonio’s lips on his again. His brain
won and Emford sat up to leave when Antonio pounced on him and subdued him with
a kiss.
With a
groan, Emford relaxed and let Antonio take over. Only when he pulled away did
he remember to say, “No, this is a sin, we will burn in hell!”
“We’ll
burn in this bed is more like it. Don’t worry Emford even if we burn in hell,
it’ll be worth it,” drawled Antonio. “Now, I’m almost naked but you are far too
dressed for the occasion.” Antonio began to unbutton his shirt and Emford found
that he wanted to be revealed.
“So you Mormons
do wear magic underwear!” he cried with a laugh and Emford found himself
wishing that the earth might swallow him up. Yes he wore the sacred clothes
that would have protected him but even he had thought that terribly
unflattering. When Antonio asked if he could take them off, Emford paused then
said, “rip them off,” then hid his face praying silently to God that he be
forgiven.
Antonio
wasted no time to rip the thin cotton, then “Wow!” Said Antonio with wide eyes.
“Who’d have thought Mormon boys were so well endowed?” Emford had his eyes
firmly shut at that point. No one had ever seen him naked and he prayed under
his breath. He felt Antonio lay beside him, fingers playing lightly on his
nipples. The rush in his head grew stronger, his breath catching. It built and
built as those hands dipped lower until…
His
entire body tensed and writhed and he let out a groan he couldn’t stifle. An
explosive release, which passed to reveal Emford’s utter shame. It lay in a
congealed mess right there on his belly. Antonio laughed, “So you were a virgin
I take it! That was hot. Let’s try again shall we?”
“Wait,” Emford
breathed. “This is wrong. Sinful. We will go to hell!”
“Oh,
honey you called out to God just a moment ago, don’t tell me you don’t
remember. Perhaps I’ll help you remember,” Antonio rose up on his elbow and
pushed himself down.
Emford
was trying to remember when he might have called out to god when he felt a hot,
wet … something enclose over the most private part of him. “Oh GOD!” he
breathed and looked down. Antonio was devouring him, his lips encased around
the tip of his… he fought with himself to even think it… penis.
He
watched the spent bit of flesh start to grow again, Emford had never seen that
part of his own self look quite so eager. And to see those soft warm lips tease
and caress was almost too much. The sight was excruciating but the feeling, Emford
groaned, loudly then felt his face grow hotter with shame. Then the shame was
forgotten in how Antonio was making him feel. Emford struggled against his
bonds but felt all the more better for it. He heard himself now, chanting “oh
God, oh God.”
Oh how
was he to know that his cock had a direct line to every nerve ending in his
body. One flick of Antonio’s tongue had him reeling in ecstasy. This must have
been what heaven felt like. Nothing could be better. Not even if God himself
appeared.
This time
when his head exploded, he was aware that his cock throbbed in time. The waves
went on longer this time and when it ended, Antonio’s face was above his. “Find
God again?” Emford he nodded dumbly. “Well, I think it’s my turn,” whispered
Antonio.
Emford
wriggled then said hoarsely, “release me.”
Antonio
shook his head, “no dice. Pulling a Joyce Mckinney is really hot.”
Emford
didn’t understand at first but then he remembered the story, whispered among
the other brothers. A tale of kidnap and debauchery. A woman who taken a Mormon
and did unspeakable things to him. Was this what happened to the Mormon brother
who had been kidnapped by Joyce Mckinney? If so, her victim had complained far
too much.
“Let my
hands go,” Emford said more earnestly, looking at Antonio’s underwear. Antonio
paused until he added, “I’ll show you God.”
A quick
pull at a line and Emford felt his arms free. Instantly he sprang up and pushed
Antonio down on the bed and began to pull his underwear down. (disclaimer, if you don’t want to read about
my fanciful descriptions of cocks, block ears or stop reading aloud the next
paragraph)
Emford
stilled. He had never seen another cock besides his own and he had worked very
hard for years to not look at his own either. Now he had another in front of
him, he stared opened mouth at the smooth long organ that throbbed just below
his face.it lay slightly throbbing on Antonio’s flat stomach, darker skinned
and lightly adorned with curling twisting veins. Emford glanced down at his and
couldn’t help comparing them. Similar sized but he realised that he had a
slight bend while Antonio’s was just rigidly straight. His was also surrounded
by slightly unruly, crisply curling blond hair. He looked down and noted that
no hair hid the wonders of the organ that throbbed achingly just below him.
“Just try
it,” whispered Antonio, his innocent eyes briefly revealing that naughty side
he knew lay just underneath. Emford complied and was rewarded with the most
delicious sound of a very satisfied sigh.
It was a
strange feeling, the skin so smooth on his tongue, yet the entire thing so hot
and hard. It tasted strange as well, the skin sweet but the tip dropping little
hints of saltiness. However once he got over that, it was like playing an
instrument. He followed the gasps, moans and little hiccups of delights from
above, taking confidence from them and finding that he loved the feel of cock
in his mouth.
He was
wondering how much more to go when he was rewarded with a terse “oh JESUS!”
because Antonio exploded in his mouth. The unfamiliar warm and salty goo made
him uncomfortable. But he couldn’t complain about the taste so he swallowed it.
There was
a low aching groan at the door; Emford turned his head to see the priest with a
pained expression, staring at Emford while simultaneously holding his cock, manhandling
it roughly.
The
priest stormed in and stuck his crotch into Antonio’s face, as if he couldn’t
wait and had gone mad with longing. Emford was not happy and he pulled at the
priest’s shoulders aggressively.
“Boys,
boys, plenty of me to go around,” drawled Antonio sitting up. He stared at Emford
and pushed him back until Emford was sitting at the edge of the bed. Then Antonio
leaned down, taking his cock again in his hands. Emford looked down, feeling
his own flesh quicken and harden again and watched with wide eyes at what
Antonio was doing with his wicked tongue.
Emford
leaned his head back and revelled in the ecstasy when he felt something far
better. Antonio had groaned, the vibrations at the back of his throat sending
shivers through the rest of his body. Emford groaned in delight as well and
opened his eyes to look… at the priest kneeling behind Antonio lifting tail and
sliding himself in.
Emford
didn’t know what to think. He did not like the priest all that much, but he did
like that Antonio was enjoying whatever was being done to him. Another low moan
in the back of Antonio’s throat and he stopped caring.
The room
swam and was filled with the cacophony of moans from all three of them. The
tension built, the voices rose until the crescendo broke, first with the
priest, who obviously lacked real stamina, then Emford. When his head cleared
and he was able to sit up, Antonio was not in the room.
Emford
left the priest still gasping on the bed and walked out to find Antonio in the
kitchen. The three writhing figures were gone, though a glance outside at the
frame showed the a dark skinned man tied up this time with a blond slightly
built man with glasses expertly torturing him.
The air
in the bedroom and living room was hot and thick, but it was cooler in the
kitchen. Antonio was drinking a large glass of something when he pulled Emford
around and kissed him.
This time
the kiss was cold. Antonio had taken an ice cube in his mouth. The cold made
the rest of his body burn. Antonio pulled away and carefully pushed Emford to
the kitchen counter. “I haven’t christened the counter, how about we do that
now?”
“Christen?”
he whispered with just a hint of nervousness. “How?”
In
answer, Antonio reached behind him and pulled a bottle and shook in front of Emford
with that same impish look. Emford was confused and his face must have shown it
but Antonio gave no explanation, just opened the cap and poured the contents
all over Emford’s bare chest.
The
subtle scent of olive oil rose up to Emford’s face, but before he could react,
Antonio began sliding his hands all over his body, rubbing the slick oil over
his skin. The slippery smooth sensation was too much as the heat of his skin
warmed the oil and when his hand dipped down to the most eager part of him, Emford
couldn’t hold back a loud groan.
The sound
seemed to attract attention from outside the kitchen. Emford opened his eyes to
see two naked figures standing at the doorway.
The slightly
taller brown haired man came in first and immediately slicked his hands on Emford’s
chest to slick up some oil then pulled Emford away from the counter to slick
his hands down his back. Antonio’s hands did not pause for an instant and
sandwiched between them Emford found his knees growing weak. He had to hold the
counter with one hand; the other clenched and unclenched with the need to grab
something.
Antonio
started in front but after a few moments he moved to behind Emford and firmly
pushed him down on to his knees. The protestant moved back and then around and
stood apparently waiting as Antonio reached around with one oily hand to push Emford’s
head around.
Antonio
kissed him urgently at first then pulled away to whisper in his ear, “time to
christen the kitchen, just like we christened the bedroom, you me and the
priest.”
Emford
blushed as he remembered what had happened then tensed, “wait, what do you
mean? Are you playing the role of the priest?!”
Antonio
answered only with the most innocent expression Emford had seen yet. He was not
fooled for a second but he didn’t resist when Antonio pushed him down to his
hands and knees. He didn’t resist when he felt something tease and poke behind
him but he did tense when it felt it push.
“No this
is wrong,” he cried.
“I know but
doesn’t that make it more fun?” said the man in front of him.
“Who are
you?” cried Emford confused.
“I’m Aaron,
I’m Protestant,” replied the man with a grin.
It was
wrong, so terribly wrong but he didn’t resist even though he felt something
push firmly against him. The flare of burning pain mingled with a more pleasurable
sensation. This was a sin, a terrible sin. What would his brothers in the
church say? What would the elders say?! Emford tried to lean back, to get up
and stop Antonio but then he felt Antonio’s long hard length slide in, slick
with oil, and all he could do was moan in surrender. For a few seconds, Antonio
stayed still and Emford was rewarded with the delicious sensation of pressure
in places he didn’t realise he had. Then there was movement.
Emford
was happy enough the way he was but apparently the protestant wasn’t. He
stepped forward then and got on his knees, presenting his own cock in Emford’s
face.
For a
second Emford felt a mild disappointment that the one he had in front of him
was nowhere near as impressive as Antonio’s but he chided himself. It shouldn’t
have mattered. Feeling a measure of guilt, he took it deep in his mouth.
The
movements from behind started slow but began to speed up and the man in front
began to follow suit. Emford couldn’t complain as wave after wave of pure
gratification washed over him. He didn’t even complain when he heard a slap
above him as Antonio murmured, “Eiffel tower!” Emford didn’t know what it meant
though at that moment, he disengaged himself from the man in front, keeping the
engorged organ in his hand and turned his head to look behind him.
Antonio
had a look of concentration, sweat sliding down his face and chest. Emford
followed the line of sweat down and then realised that the furry tail was
swinging from side to side.
That was
too much. The sight of that naughty tail, the sounds of flesh hitting against
flesh, the hands that gripped his hips and then suddenly more hands taking his
face and directing it back to the dick he held in his hand. Emford understood
command and he was good at obeying. He continued with his duty, doing his best
to service the man in his mouth while trying so hard to stay focused when the
man behind abused his body so delightfully.
The hard
thrusting hit a sweet spot repeatedly and he found himself moving back, wanting
to be penetrated deeper. The pressure everywhere built, the sounds rising to a
crescendo and Emford felt his body writhe and twist with pleasure just as
Antonio groaned and he felt his host’s release inside him. A moment later, the
protestant cried out and Emford for the second time felt a rush in his mouth
and down his throat.
Afterwards
he collapsed on the kitchen floor, his chest heaving and his body just a pliant
puddle on the ground. Antonio was sitting behind him with his knees bent and
the protestant in front slightly more prostrate on the ground.
Antonio
chuckled and mumbled, “Great, now I have to clean up Santorum from my kitchen
floor.”
Emford
didn’t know what it means; only that Santorum was a senator. He didn’t really
care either. He only cared about one
thing. “When is it my turn?” Emford hushed out between breaths.
“Your
turn for what?” asked Antonio equally breathlessly.
“To do
what you did.”
Antonio
laughed, and Emford felt the vibrations of his laughter through his hip. “Oh
honey we can arrange that. C’mon,” he stood unsteadily and playfully slapped Emford’s
hip.
Getting
up was hard but he found that when he drank the cool glass Antonio handed to
him he felt much better. He followed his decadent host to the living room where
several figures lay prostrate on the floor and couch in various stages of
exhaustion. On a chair sat a man, breathing heavily but eyeing the two men now
standing in front of him.
“Muslim”
whispered Antonio to his ear.
The man
was dark skinned with thick lashes around his dark eyes. He had a dark scraggly
beard that wasn’t long enough to be unruly but still more then could be found
attractive at least by Emford. Antonio apparently had no problems; he went
right up to the man, offered the glass and then struck up a short quiet
conversation.
The
conversation was very short as it wasn’t long before the darker skinned man was
almost aggressively pushing his host back into the chair, devouring his mouth
as if that was his salvation. Emford felt the now familiar flare of jealousy
but this time something more. Watching the ardent way the two figures tried to
seemingly melt into the wall was inspiring.
He looked
down at his own flesh, surprised that it was swelling slightly even so soon
after the last explosive release. He was so busy looking down he didn’t notice the
short man timidly approach from behind until hands were rubbing over his hand
and then his chest.
“Who are
you?” asked Emford quietly.
“Joshua,”
replied the man with a small smile. “Jehovah’s witness.”
Joshua apparently
couldn’t get enough of touching Emford’s back and chest. Emford was so busy
watching the tentative hands going over him he didn’t notice Antonio until his
name was called. He looked up to find Antonio against the wall with the Muslim
man now paying homage to Antonio’s cock.
Emford
gave the Jehovah’s Witness an apologetic smile then went over to his now
favourite host. He knew what was expected of him and it only took a little
manoeuvring to take his now extremely hard self and do to the olive skinned
man, what Antonio had done to him only minutes ago.
He was
nervous, not sure and it took eager sounds from both his current lover and his
former one to keep going. Then he got into his groove, found his rhythm. It was
almost too tight, too hot and Emford wasn’t sure he could keep it up but he
wanted to try. It helped when the timid man behind him came back and continued
rubbing his hands over Emford’s body.
He looked
up and saw Antonio’s face, mouth slightly open and those dark secretive eyes
were now alight with carnal knowledge with all trace of innocence gone. The
choir boy face was now bright with impish glee, lower lip clasped naughtily. As
he watched, Antonio raised a hand, inviting it to be slapped. Tentatively he
did and was rewarded with, “Eifel Tower!” it was then he understood. Their
bodies were shaped like the monument.
Suddenly
they were all just one figure, a mass of bodies, slick and hot, moving in soft
gyrating motions and crying soft hushed moans and gasps. Emford was barely away
of it but the movements gained momentum. The voices slowly grew louder and
Emford couldn’t tell who was crying out the most. the hands rubbed more
fervently, the hips more forcefully. Muscles tensed and relaxed and their cries
raised up until Emford felt the most powerful burst of pure pleasure he had
ever felt in his life.
He wasn’t
in his body anymore, just a formless mass that fused into everything he
touched. Maybe he had died and that was alright with him.
When he
came too, he found he was on a hard floor, now sticky with oil and sweat and
his limbs tangled with the limbs of three other figures. He crawled just enough
to detangle himself and leaned against the wall beside Antonio who lay with his
eyes closed, his face no long innocent, just entirely sated.
“So,”
breathed his host. “How was that?”
Emford
contemplated his predicament. “I came here to save your soul. You tricked me.
Tied me to your bed. Ripped my most sacred beliefs from me. Basted me in olive
oil, defiled every part of me and now you ask me how it was?” Antonio nodded.
Emford
started laughing. “I think I might have lost Jesus.”
“It’s ok;
we can keep helping you try to find him.”
“Ok.”
Emford smiled, “whenever you want.”
