Father Gary. He had to be straight, right? One look at his tall athletic frame, handsome face, shock of sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes led to no other conclusion. The way women smiled, fawned and flirted with him and he with them confirmed it.

His winning smile melted women. It melted me.

Long and lean but not muscled he picked up the nickname Stretch during his college basketball career. Taking holy orders didn’t change anything. Everyone still called him Stretch. A popular young assistant pastor fresh out of seminary at our parish at age twenty-eight, he towered over everyone at six foot eight, drove a 280Z sports car which barely fit him and played pickup basketball games with dads and men in the gym at our parish school.

I saw him for the first time at mass just before I started senior year in high school. As a diocesan priest, he did not take a vow of poverty but as assistant pastor was expected to have a day job to provide his own income. That job was teaching history at the Catholic high school I attended. He picked up a little extra income as an assistant basketball coach. As point guard on the team I saw him at practice, on the court and in class at school as well as at mass at our parish on weekends. From out of nowhere it felt like he was everywhere in my life that year.

My name is Jim. My hair is blond. My eyes are blue. I’m only five-six but had shot the lights out averaging thirty-two points a game junior year. I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. I’ve always known I’m gay but I’m jock gay. I wasn’t out back then. I had a secret boyfriend my age at school named Tom. His hair was dark brown and his eyes blue. He was five-four and effeminate but the most talented gymnast on the boys team. We hung out all the time so everyone thought he and I were just best friends. We let them think it.

Anyway fast forward through senior year. Tom turned eighteen. I turned eighteen. Our hoops team made it to the post season carried mostly by my 30 ppg. Our low court game improved dramatically thanks to Father Gary’s coaching but we were still eliminated in the first round. Then on a Saturday later that spring as I sat alone in the stands watching my secret boyfriend perform on the rings at a gymnastics meet Father Gary—Stretch—sat down on the bleachers next to me.  He wore the familiar basic black of a diocesan priest with white dog collar.

“Tom really is something, isn’t he?” Stretch said. “Look at him hold the flying cross.”

“He’s extraordinary,” I said watching the muscles of his arms, chest and shoulders stick out in tension as he held the cross—muscles I had caressed and kissed.

Polite applause came from the sparse crowd—mostly parents and team mates. A moment later, Tom’s legs and toes pointed to the ceiling as he flipped up inverted in a handstand on the rings and held it with calm precision, hands coated in chalk. Hands which had caressed me.

“You two are close friends, aren’t you?” Stretch said.

“We are much more than friends, Father,” I said.

“Really?” he said. “You mean—.”

“Yes,” I said, watching Tom fling himself over and over, creating momentum for his dismount. “Does that surprise you?”

“Not really,” Stretch said.

Tom stuck the landing perfectly. The crowd cheered and applauded loudly. Stretch and I joined in.

“Wow. Nice work, Tom!”

“Way to stick the landing, man!”

Tom beamed his perfect smile then walked off to the congrats of his team mates.

“Hey Jim I’m looking for a volunteer to help me clean out some of the junk in the basement of the church,” Stretch said. “Think you could make some time to help?”

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” I said. “When do you have in mind?”

“Monday at six,” he said.

“Monday?” I said. “Day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I lock the doors of the church at six so it won’t matter how much noise we make banging around in the undercroft and carrying stuff out upstairs,” he said. “It won’t take long. Maybe an hour. Mostly boxes of old missals and church bulletins to toss.”

“Um, sure,” I said. “Monday night is open.”

“Thanks, Jim,” he said. “I really appreciate it. Taz.”

“You never called me Taz before, coach,” I chuckled.

“Not to your face,” he smiled.

“Or just ‘Dev,’” I said, referring to my teammates’ other nickname for me—both from the Tasmanian Devil.”

“You were a demon this year—all over the court all the time, Jim,” he said. “Never letting up. Constantly pressuring them.”

“What I lack in height…” I said.

“You ran circles around our opponents,” Gary said. “You made them lose. I hated small, fast guys like you when I played but you were a joy to coach this season and even more fun to watch.”

“Thanks, Father Gary,” I said.

“Stretch," he said. “Call me Stretch. Save “father” for the confessional.”

“Okay, Stretch,” I smiled.

I got to the church a few minutes before six that Monday and slipped in before he locked the doors. Standing near the front of the church he looked up from blowing out votives and waved at me flashing that smile which made my knees want to buckle. I waved back then watched him walk down the long central aisle towards me in jeans and a sweatshirt. I had never seen him in Levis before just the black suit pants priests wore which didn’t show anything. A nice bulge pushed out in front and I wondered how much he was packing.

“Hi Jim,” he said joining me in the vestibule. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” I said. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem,” I said.

“Turn off the lights, will you?” he said while locking the doors.

I stepped into a closet in the vestibule, opened the panel and started flipping breakers. As a one-time altar boy I knew where they were. The sanctuary went dark.

“C’mon,” he said.

I followed him downstairs from the vestibule into the dark undercroft of the church. Doors closed automatically behind us. He turned on a few lights. We walked all the way to the other end. He produced keys, unlocked the closet door and held it open for me. I squeezed past him brushing my body against his. Body swipe. My ass swept lightly across his thighs. He didn’t seem to mind. His cologne smelled rich. I wondered if he could smell mine.

At six-eight he had to duck under the door to get in. We started lugging boxes up the narrow back stairwell and out to the dumpster across the driveway behind the church. I body swiped him each time he held the door for me. The fact that he didn’t yield told me he liked the contact. Each swipe meant more and more. I hesitated as I squeezed past with my back to him making sure my ass pressed against the big bulge in his jeans. He’s so tall I had to go up on tiptoe for a moment to do this.

God. Could I be anymore obvious?

Once all the easy boxes were out I had to climb up on lower boxes and hand down boxes up in the back he couldn’t reach despite his height. As I climbed down his big hands grabbed my waist lowering me onto a box. At the same time he leaned forward and pressed his pelvis to my butt. Remember he was six-eight while I was five-six making him fourteen inches taller.

Leaning forward a bit I pushed my butt back against that nice package I had seen in his jeans. He responded by pushing it forward a little more. I responded by grinding my butt side to side on him a little. He responded by grinding back.

“Do you like this?” I smiled rubbing against what I hoped was a big cock in his jeans.

“Yes do you?” he said.

“Fuck yes,” I said moving my hips in circles against him. “Do you want this?”

“Fuck yes,” he gasped.

He wrapped long arms around me from behind holding me tight while we grinded against each other. Then his hands ran down my torso, opened my jeans and pulled them to my knees. His big hands squeezed and pawed my butt cheeks making me gasp. He pulled down my jockeys.

“You have the best ass on the court,” he hissed. “The way the small of your back curves into your butt is… irresistible.”

I arched my back sticking it out to him but he spun me around, knelt and took my erect cock in his mouth while those huge hands held my glutes and pulled me deep in his mouth then moved me back and forth fucking his mouth. My coach/priest/history teacher had skills.

He held my narrow hips and 28 inch waist in his big powerful mitts while his lips stroked and stroked and stroked my rod. I felt my load building. I was completely under his control. My gasps turned into whimpers and before I knew it my cock pulsed rope after rope of hot teen jizz in his holy mouth.

He held my head in his lips until my rod stopped pulsing then swallowed my seed licking what little escaped off his lips before rising, wrapping arms around me and kissing me. My hands ran down his belly, lifted his sweatshirt, opened his jeans and pulled out his hard cock. As I pushed his jeans down I felt the wet spot in his boxers.

“I want you in me,” I said breaking the kiss. “Take your clothes off.”

He didn’t comply so I held his big cock and cupped his balls while his mouth and tongue were deep in mine. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out a small tube of KY and began lubing his hot heavy cock.

“Really?” he said.

“C’mon, I want you in me,” I said. “I didn’t eat supper and cleaned out before I left home.”

“Fucking little slut,” Stretch said, spinning me around to take me from behind.

“Fuck, yes, make your slut, daddy,” I gasped, fingering lube in my hole and guiding his big dick in.

“Fuck, you’re tight!” he gasped, pushing in urgently.

“Fuck, you’re huge!” I gasped, pressing palms to his thighs to slow his entry before pulling away. “More lube, more lube!”

He took the tube, slathered more on his big unit then squirted more on my hole and worked it in with his big middle finger.

"God, you could fuck me with just your finger,” I gasped.

“I will if you want,” he said, working in more lube.

“Fuck me with your big cock, Stretch daddy,” I gasped. “I want all of you inside me.”

I yelled when he pushed it all the way. His hips went out of control as he pounded me violently. Ten big thrusts and he came yelling.

What a picture it was, tiny me standing on a box with shirt on and jeans around my knees, with him towering over me from behind with shirt on and jeans around his knees pinning me against a wall of boxes. It had all happened so fast but I loved every inch of his hot spear deep inside me filling me with hotter wet seed.

When I lifted my face to him, he lowered lips to mine and kissed me long, hard and deep then more gently as he recovered. I slipped a hand up to the back of his neck  keeping his lips on mine as his kisses became more broken. It was a perfect moment. I knew it wouldn’t last but didn’t care.

At this point I should say the closet wasn’t really a closet. It was a storage room everyone called a closet. Boxes were stacked against the wall up to the ceiling where we were but a variety of other items shared the space. Old nicked, damaged and broken life-size statues huddled in one corner. Half of St. Paul’s face and all of his halo were missing from one. A variety of candle stands stood empty. Church banners hung from one wall. Behind a couple of filing cabinets and an old desk sat some furniture—a couch and a couple old overstuffed chairs.

Still coupled Stretch lifted me off the boxes and carried me to the couch. I stood on it glad he wanted to stay inside me. We had only been at it a few minutes. I could keep his cock inside forever. Still coupled we slowly undressed. He pulled my shirt off then his. When I kicked off shoes he peeled my Levis off the rest of the way and pulled my socks off. Then he kicked off shoes and socks and wiggled out of jeans. We kissed naked with his arms around me from behind. I squeezed his cock tight in my butt.

“Fuck,” he gasped.

“You like my tight pussy, daddy?” I said between kisses.

“Fuck yes,” he gasped. “You are one hot piece of ass.”

“I’m YOUR hot piece of ass, daddy,” I said. “Make me your bitch.”

“Is Tom your bitch?” Stretch said.

“Fuck yeah, he’s my bitch,” I said. “His ass never quits.”

“Now you’re MY bitch, boy,” Stretch said, giving me a pump that made me gasp.

With that, he lifted me off his cock, spun me around so we were face to face and wrapped my legs around his waist. I squeezed him with my thighs, loving his giant athletic body between my legs. He adjusted me a little, then guided his cock in and lowered me on it.

“Oh fuck… oh shit… daddy,” I gasped, melting against him belly to belly with my arms over his broad shoulders, threatening to lose their grip on him. His strong arms began sliding me up and down on his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Fucking bitch!” he growled, bouncing me on his insatiable dick. “I own your pussy! You own Tom’s, I own yours!”

“Oh daddy!” I whimpered in bliss.

When I couldn’t hold on any longer, he sat on the couch with me on his cock. I adjusted my legs, wondering how many others he fucked there. I didn’t care.

“Ride me, you little whore!” he ordered.

He didn’t have to say it twice. I pressed palms to his chest and started bouncing on his magnificent cock. I sat upright and bounded more then Ieaned back, planted hands on his knees, and let my hips run wild pumping, gyrating, screwing and milking.

“Who else have you seduced with your ass? I can’t be the only one,” he said hot hands on my rocking thighs.

“Just you, Stretch daddy,” I gasped, looking deep in his eyes.

“I’m your first? I don’t believe it.”

"Well, Tommy did me a few times but he doesn’t like to top,” I gasped.

“Come to me then. I will take care of your needs, babyboy.”

"Yes, daddy,” I said. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

Stretch wrapped fingers around my cock and I exploded instantly, shooting come all over my own chest and belly. I rested panting impaled on his hard rod. Before I could recover, he lifted me off him, set me on hands and knees on the couch, and knelt behind me.

“I want your ass doggie,” he said, plunging into me. “Fuck you are so wet inside.”

“That’s your seed daddy,” I gasped.

“Want more slut?”

“I want it all!” I whimpered.

Stretch—rookie priest/coach/teacher—grabbed my waist and hips and rocketed his cock in me from behind for several minutes. Then he let go and got on all fours above me. I fit beneath him easily on all fours but could not stay up for long against the onslaught of his massive thrusts. My upper body collapsed first and it took all my strength to keep my ass up but I melted face down. My priest, coach, teacher, lover pinned me full body and murdered my ass prone on that old couch till he came.

Then we were done. We dressed, closed up the basement, went upstairs into the apse and walked down the main aisle past dark, silent, empty pews.

“Not a word to anyone, Jim,” Gary said. “Not even in the confessional.”

“Will you hear my confession, Father?” I said.

“Of course my son,” he said.

“Now?” I said.

“Okay,” he said, heading to the confessionals in the back of the church. “Come on.’

He entered the priest’s box. I entered the confessors’s box and knelt. He slid the panel open.

“God be with you,” he said.

“Bless me, Father for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago.”

“Go on, my son.”

“I am gay. I have sodomized my boyfriend six times since my last confession. I have lusted after my basketball coach since I first met him ten months ago. Tonight I seduced him with my body and committed sodomy with him. His semen is leaking into my jockeys.”

“You realize these are very serious sins, my son? Mortal sins? And that God considers them abominations?”

“Yes Father.”

“Very well. I absolve you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Go in peace.”

“No penance, Father?”

“This is extremely serious. For penance, you must enter my box.”

“Thank you, Father,” I said.

“Bless you, my son.”

He slid the screen closed. Exiting the confessor's box, I slid into the priest’s box, knelt between his legs and felt the long hard bulge in his jeans before unbuttoning his fly, reaching in and pulling out his rigid blood filled rod.

“Say nothing,” he whispered.

His cock felt hot in my hands. True to my small stature I have small hands just three inches across. I wrapped them around his thick meat one on top of the other. A good two inches stuck out the top. Eight inches!

I wrapped lips around his head and began sucking. Dregs of come flowed out of his love pipe into my mouth. Stretch exhaled in bliss. I secretly wondered how many pussies and asses he had stretched with it besides mine and if it was the real reason for his nickname.

Stretch rose in his chair a bit, pushed his jeans down past his knees and sat again. I pulled them the rest of the way off and worshipped his virile manhood with lips and tongue and suction and kisses and licks tasting a combination of lube, his come and my ass. He leaned back in his chair facing up his eyes closed in bliss as if praying to heaven while I knelt between his athletic thighs servicing him. I decided I had to be the answer to his prayers. I would be his angel.

He leaned further back sitting close to the edge of the upholstered chair till his ample ballsack hung over the edge. I felt his loaded eggs in my fingers and palms, his sack still moist with sweat and lube from having just fucked me twice in the undercroft. I wondered if he had a third load in him. I kissed and licked down his shaft then took his balls in my mouth one at a time sucking them slowly and deliciously while my hand gently stroked his swollen love meat.

“Fuck,” he whispered, exhaling.

I sucked his balls all the way back then sucked and licked and kissed his taint. His breath caught and his body stiffened to this. Ample precum flowed out of his cock and I spread it the length of his shaft, then decided I wanted to taste it again. I kissed up to his head and started sucking, but he lifted me powerfully, stood me between his legs, unbuttoned my Levis, and shucked them off me. As I pulled off my shirt he spun me round, sat me on his lap, and pushed into me from behind.

“Tight pussy,” he whispered.

I didn’t tell him I had been squeezing tight to keep his two big loads from leaking. I just relaxed my hole and slid on. All. The. Way. On.

He exhaled in bliss but so did I. He wrapped arms around me, but his hands were everywhere, caressing my chest, belly, thighs, junk, and ass. I took his hand and pressed it palm down on my abdomen above my navel.

“I feel you all the way up here,” I whispered.

Stretch turned my head with his other hand and pressed lips to mine. I gasped through his kisses in part because he took my breath away and in part because it felt like his cock was pressing up into my chest. That’s how deep he was in my guts.

I slowly started sliding up and down on him, trying to gasp as silently as I could. Precum drooled from my dick and dripped on my bare feet on the floor. Then his huge hands clamped my waist and began sliding me up and down on him like I was some kind of sex toy. His sex doll. I had no control whatsoever. Squeezing him as tight as I could considering how much he gaped me, I did a poor job suppressing the whimpers issuing from my throat.

Then he spun me around on his cock so we were face to face but kept bouncing me on his cock like mad. When he stopped, I leaned forward, planted palms on his chest and started riding him. Before I knew it, my hips pumped out of control, and I shot come on his belly, but I couldn’t stop. A few minutes later, I shot again, then a third time a few minutes after that. My eyes were closed but I swear I saw stars the third time I came.

I collapsed to him panting, breathless. He panted too. We were wet with sweat. The church was cold but we had heated up the tiny box where he listened to people confess the kinds of things he and I were doing.

Arms around me he stood up. I hooked legs around him, hooked arms over his shoulders and kissed him. His big tongue wrestled mine and won. Stretch proceeded to pound me mercilessly. I felt his cock pulse after his last big thrust left him balls deep, flooding my tightness with his third load.

“You’re good at quiet sex,” he said as we walked out of the church.

“Plenty of practice,” I smiled.

“Thursday night? Help me with the rest of those boxes? Later. Say ten?”

“Sure thing,” I said.

If I thought fucking a priest was sacrilege and doing it with him in a church basement X2 then fucking in the confessional had to be pure evil, right? Had my skin turned dark red? Were horns growing out my head?

Thursday night became satanic. After carrying a few more boxes up the back basement steps Father Stretch led me through another door at the top of the stairs, which led into the sacristy behind the apse. I followed him out to the altar of the dark church. Before I knew it, he bent me over the altar, pulled down my jeans and jockeys, and pushed his magnificent cock into my tight teen joyhole.

Pants to my knees I sacrificed my body on the altar to his thrusting hips barely containing whimpers of delight. Father Gary’s gasps filed the apse. He pounded me for a couple minutes and came. We pulled up our pants and went back to work. After carrying out the rest of the boxes we stopped in the sacristy.

“Take your clothes off,” he said.

I stripped naked thinking we’d fuck in the sacristy. Still sacrilege but more private than doing it out on the altar.

“Put this on,” he said.

I slipped on the surplice—the white vestment altar boys wear over a long black cossack. It had large open sleeves but the surplice didn’t reach my knees. I was—in two words—scantily clad. Oh boy.

Stretch stripped naked, put on priestly vestments, led me out to the altar, bent me over it, lifted my surplice, threw his vestments over me, which was a relief because the church was cold and the fabric of the surplice thin. I felt his big hands grab my ass and spread my checks. The head of his big cock pressed against my tight hole, which was still wet with his first load of come.

“Open to me, slut,” he said.

“Yes Father,” I said.

“Yesss,” he gasped as his long hot rod slipped into me. “Receive the sacred gift inside you.”

“Yes Father.”

“Do you want it?”

“God yes.”

“How much of it?”

“All of it.”

“Is this enough?”

“More,” I hissed.

He pushed. “More?”

“God yes,” I said, trying to push back at him but his hands held me firmly.

“Receive the Rod of the Lord your God,” he sighed, pushing the rest of the way in.

“Yes Lord,” I whimpered, feeling his balls against my taint.

He began pounding me hard and fast, pinned over the altar. It only took him a few minutes to come the first time he had me on the altar. The second took longer. I hadn’t come the first time and my load was ready. My thighs started trembling and soon I shot my load into the surplice, gasping. He stopped all the way in.

“I feel your holy contractions. Your body is sacred to me.”

“Oh God, yes!”

“My sacred rod will save you,” he said, thrusting again.

“Save me, daddy,” I hissed.

He pounded and pounded but didn’t come. He pulled out, rolled me to my back on the altar, covered me with his vestments and plunged into me again. I rested bare feet on his chest but he pulled my legs down and wrapped them around his waist. I pulled to his thrusts. Our hips began gyrating together.

I looked up into the vault of the apse high above us, listening to the soft echoes of our gasps in the most sacred place in the church. I looked up at God and God told me I was the sacrificial lamb on the altar. Just then my ass tightened and come pulsed from my cock.

“Fffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuck!” Stretch hissed as he came at the same time.

I panted in bliss on the altar beneath his vestments. Stretch panted from his exertions, his cock balls deep inside me, his eyes deep in mine. Neither of us had to say it. This was heaven. This was Divine.

My phone pinged later that night at home. Stretch had sent a selfie.

I texted back:  When and where?