A chance meeting at a 24 hr gym, earlier in the morning hours, gave me a chance to fulfill a fantasy since high-school
I had fallen asleep watching TV around 8pm after a hard day at work. I looked at my phone and saw it was close to 1am. I felt fully rested and my mind turned to sex. I did not want to waste my day off jacking off like I did last week, so thought I would head towards the gym and work out. I belonged to a 24 hour gym with card entrance from 10pm till 6am as there was no employees during that time. It was Wednesday, so the gym would probably have no one in it and I could work out without a shirt which I couldn't do during regular business hours. I arrived around 1:30 and entered, seemed like there was no one around. Went to the lockers and changed into workout shorts and put my weightlifting gloves on. The gym was huge, almost 30,000 square feet and as I entered the main workout area, there was another guy working out also. He was nicely toned, slender, looked of Italian or Latin descent. Guessing he was in his late 20s, mayby early 30s. Had a beautiful face, dark eyes highlighted by thick long eyelashes. He also was not wearing a top and I could clearly see by his chest, that he worked out a lot which kick started my libido. I started my routine, watching this guy do his routine. We acknowledged each other with a nod when passing to different stations, I would catch his scent, the smell of deodorant mixed with his sweat and a closer view of his body. Needless to say, I was getting aroused and found it more and more difficult to concentrate on my routine. After about 45 minutes, I decided I needed to take care of my concentration problem. I headed to the lockers, took a shower and with a towel wrapped around my midsection headed to the steam room. The gym only recently decided to leave the saunas and steamrooms open during the time when there was no staff, as the company was getting a lot of complaints, stating those people who came during those hours were not getting the full benefits they were paying for. The members, of course, had to sign a waiver stating each member would not hold the gym responsible for any injuries when using these rooms during these hours. The gym had separate saunas and steamrooms for the men and women. Therefore, you could be naked if you chose. I always took a towel to sit on and occasionally used it to clean up my cum should I decide to jack off and this early morning hour I would be doing just that. I cranked up the heat and started putting water on the hot rocks to get the steam built up. Within 15 minutes, the steam had built up to a dense fog and I could start my masturbation session. I sat down enjoying the intense heat, my penis already rock hard. I started stroking and was getting into a rhythm when I heard the door opened.......
Part 2 to follow.
PART 2 FORGIVE ME FATHER
Covering myself, I saw a flush of steam escape as the door opened. It was hard to make out who was entering, but I assumed it was the guy who had been working out, as there was no one else in the gym. As he got closer, I saw it was him. He had his towel wrapped around his midsection, which he opened to sit down on the bench directly across from me. Of course I was watching. He had a beautiful toned body, but what I noticed most was his penis. His cock was cut, thick, and floppy. As he sat down his dick hung over the bench edge, surrounded by a dark full bush and hairy balls. He acknowledged me with a nod of the head, then closed his eyes to relax. He parted his legs a little more, allowing for a full view of his groin. His penis, still flaccid, started to twitch a little, then slowly started growing. He opened his eyes for a second, looked at me, then closed them, parting his legs just a little more, while stretching with his fingers interlocked behind his head, showing his armpits, which were thick with black hair. He stayed in that position, relaxing. His body was lean and toned, with just the right amount of hair in the right places, oozing masculinity and sexuality. He did not speak, but his penis was speaking volumes. I watched it getting harder, until it was pointing upward, almost to his stomach. He opened his eyes again, looking at me, while I asked for permission with my eyes and my brow. He nodded yes, closed his eyes and opened his legs wider. I got up and knelt down on the lower bench, right between his thighs. I slowly went up and down the total length of his shaft with my tongue, his penis jerking the entire time. I grabbed his penis with my left hand, holding it to his stomach while my mouth engulfed his balls, going from one to another as they were too big to get inside my mouth at the same time. He was silent, but his breathing started to get labored. I looked at his penis, which was now wet with my saliva and saw he had started leaking. I squeezed his shaft as I stroked the entire length. the head of his penis rewarding me with more precum. I tasted it with my tongue and it was quite sweet, surprising me, as I have found most men's semen to be bland, sometimes being unlucky and getting a bitter taste in my mouth. I licked the head, spreading his precum around the entire head, then not being able to resist any longer took his penis in my mouth and started the process of blowing him. He never let out any moans or groans, just indicating with his breathing that I was doing a good job and he was enjoying my mouth. This mystery man was big in both length and girth, guessing perhaps 8 inches, possibly a little more. I wanted to deepthroat him, but gagged every time I tried. I could tell he was getting close, so I did a steady pace of sucking with my mouth and masturbating him with my hand, getting my mouth almost to his base. Before long he unlocked his fingers from behind his head and I felt his hands take ahold of my head to start fucking my mouth. He started doing a faster pace with his thrusting, his breathing getting quicker and sporadic, his legs started quivering and I knew it would be a matter of seconds. Then he grunted out the words: "cazzo" followed by "mio dio", and I could feel his first shot of cum in my mouth. With that first shot, he held my head in a vice grip and his cock, now sloppy wet, slid down my throat with ease, his cum helping coat the passage, resulting in less pain for me. His sperm traveled down my esophagus, filling my stomach with his fluids. Wrapping his legs around my body, he made sure I could not move while he kept ejaculating down my throat. Holding my head and body down, my nose in his pubes, I could feel on my chin every time his cock pulsated with another ejaculation of his seminal fluid going into my stomach. My eyes were watering and my nose had some of his cum flowing out it while gagging trying to catch my breath. Finally he released his grip and I was able to breathe again. He got up, thanked me and left. I was confused, yet happy to have served him. Also I thought I detected an accent, really couldn't tell for certain with just two words. I also got up from my knees, showered and went home. During the following weeks, I would go back to the gym on Wednesdays, my day off, hoping to find this stranger again. Luck was on my side and I was able to blow him in the months following our first encounter. Needless to say, I looked forward to these sessions every Wednesday morning and would get horny waiting for the early morning hours when I could once again service him. No words, except for the "mio dio" and "cazzo", as he was cumming and then to thank me, (with an accent, for which I was sure about now), upon leaving the steam room, after which he would shower and leave the gym.
Part 3 to follow...
Part 3, FORGIVE ME FATHER
One Wednesday after arriving home from one of our sessions, I was wondering what he was saying with "cazzo" and "mio dio" every time he came. Finally after getting the right spelling, I found it meant "My God", or "Oh My God" and "fuck" in Italian. So now I definitely knew he was Italian, which would account for the accent I believed I heard in his voice, and I assumed his orgasm was amazing with the utterance of those two words. Much like when I would say "Oh God" or "Fuck" when I climaxed. This made me even more horny to meet up with him every week, knowing he was feeling what I felt when I orgasmed.
By this time April was here and my mother was nagging me about attending Easter service with the family in the next few weeks. My mom only expected me to attend church two times a year, Christmas and Easter. I had baled on Christmas, so thought I better not bale twice.
My mom always went to Easter service, the Saturday evening of Easter weekend. This way it left her more time to make Easter dinner on Sunday. I met my parents Saturday evening at the church which was packed. I guess everyone else had the same idea as my mom. The service was the norm as usually, then the communion service started and we got in line, of which there were two. I was behind my parents and waited impatiently for the line to go faster, so mass would be concluded, and I could go home and enjoy the rest of my evening. As we approached the front, the priest who gave the sermon was handling the right side, the side we were on. I looked to the other side, and my heart skipped a beat, not knowing what to do. Now it all made sense, the Italian spoken, the mystery and secrecy surrounding our encounters, the reluctance to speak other than his utterances of ecstasy when orgasming. The priest on the other side was the handsome guy I had been blowing for the last 5-6 months in the steamroom of my gym. My mind raced, should I continue in line hoping he may not notice me, or should I return to our pew? I decided on the latter and quietly got out of line and sat back down. When my mom got back to the pew, she of course asked if everything was okay. I made up a feeble excuse that suddenly I was feeling poorly and perhaps I should just leave and go home. I felt my mom wasn't buying my reason and kepted on questioning me. I told her to please drop it, showing irritation, so she stopped, but I would be questioned again in the near future, about my behavior during mass, again leading to tension between us. I did leave before mass ended and was able to avoid having to meet the priests at the end as everyone filed out of the church.
When I arrived home that night, my thoughts, of course, were on the mystery man in the gym and I started to put the puzzle together.
As I laid in bed, I pieced together that my mystery man, was of course a priest, Catholic, single, gay and probably was guilt ridden. I could relate, being everything he was, except of course I was not a priest. Thinking about who he was and the secrets he had to keep hidden because of his faith, made me feel compassion for him, as I too had to keep secrets. I had not been able to come out to my family, even though they probably suspected I was gay. So because of this fact, many other aspects of my life has been kepted hidden from them. Very few friends knew, except for my chosen family. I knew the loneliness this priest was feeling, the guilt and frustration of not being able to freely give in to our desires. Thinking of him, I started masturbating and soon was rock hard, leaking precum. I had always, since puberty, had a fantasy about the younger, handsome priests in our congregation throughout the years. A fantasy of asking forgiveness for my sins and my repentance would be to get fucked by them or kneel at their altar and service them until I drank from their cup. Their sperm replacing the wine in the chalice. The wine symbolizing Christ's blood which was shed for us, repaced with his sperm, the life force that was ejaculated for me alone, from which I freely drank. Thinking of how I had given him pleasure for months, remembering how his body would tense when he was close to cumming. Remembering him uttering the words "casso" and "mio dio" pushed me over the edge and within seconds I was shooting ropes on my face and chest. I got up and went to the bathroom to clean up, came back to bed feeling spent, falling to sleep immediately.
After that, my early Wednesday encounters took on a totally different meaning for me. I would fantasize I was going to confession, after which I would kneel between his thighs, which housed the tabernacle, (his penis). His penis contained the blessed sacrament, for which I needed for absolution of my transgressions. To receive this sacrament, I would need to worship at the tabernacle. (Give him a mind-blowing fellatio) After Christ, (my handsome stranger), felt I had worship enough, he would hold my head to receive the blessing of his blood, (his sperm). Like in mass, the sacrament was not allowed to be touched, only by the priest. To achieve this, my handsome stranger would slid his tabernacle, now bathed in my tithings, down my throat, where he would proceed to wrap me in the holy ghost (his legs holding me down to where I could not move) until total forgiveness was given me. Only until I had drank all of his forgiveness, would the holy ghost let me go. These metaphors I have used here to highlight the symbolic nature of receiving communion to giving a blowjob is of course fantasy in the comparison, but a hugh turn on for Catholic boys like myself.
I continued giving my priest blowjobs for the next year and a half, when suddenly he stopped showing up at the gym. I went to a Sunday mass, which is always crowded, so I felt I wouldn't be seen if he was still there, and found another priest had replaced him, which wasn't uncommon. I know my handsome stranger had to hide his true self, but I know I provided a release for him, only if it was once a week.