Son Of A Preacher Man - 1. Chapter 1 - In The Beginning

I guess I was the quintessential ‘son of a preacher man’ as I was growing up; at least that’s what everyone else thought. For me, I felt I already had three strikes against me, even though I hadn’t even started the game yet. First of all, there was my name. My father, being a Pentecostal minister, selected a biblical name for me, hence I was stuck with the handle Zachariah Ezekiel Handy (I’d even be willing to bet you’ve never seen two z’s in the same name before), but I was called Zach for short. The second strike was that not only was my father a minister, but his congregation was in a small town in the Missouri Ozarks – the heart of the Bible belt. The third strike, and possibly the most fatal flaw, was that I was gay.

God must have been in his comedic mode on the day he created me, because why else would he have stuck me with a name like this, made me part of a religious family and then topped it off by making me gay to boot. I guess this had to be one of his most malicious of ironies. In spite of this, I learned to live with my name and didn’t mind the religious upbringing or the fact that I spent more time in church in a month than many people did in a lifetime. What I had trouble dealing with was the fact that it was utterly cruel and heartless for God to have put me in a situation where I had to sit through sermon after sermon listening to my father quoting scripture about the sin of homosexuality.

During a large percentage of those diatribes, I felt my father was preaching directly to me and warning me about my sinful ways. Of course, I didn’t interpret the scriptures the same way he, his colleagues and parishioners did. To me, the Biblical warnings against men loving men were merely made at a time when such prohibitions were necessary to preserve the species. Let’s face it, with a population in the hundreds of thousands at the time, it could have meant the end of mankind if men had learned about the joys of man to man sex and ceased to procreate.

As I saw it, the Old Testament sins of Sodom and Gomorrah were not that men wanted to have sex with other men, but that they wanted to force non-consensual sex, or sex without love, upon another person. I believed it was that act, the attempt to force sex upon an unwilling individual, which comprised the sin mentioned in the Biblical story. The men in question wanted to force themselves upon the angels, who were probably far more beautiful than anyone they’d ever seen before, but the question of forced sex was not the only sin committed in those two cities. The inhabitants also didn’t offer hospitality to strangers nor were they willing to take care of the beggars in their midst, which were both required by Jewish law and tradition. The residents were also blasphemous, so the destruction of those cities had multiple causes, not just the one that is generally cited.

The New Testament also differed dramatically in its portrayal of God and emphasis of what he stood for, as compared to how he was viewed in the Old Testament. The God of the Old Testament was a vengeful, spiteful and vindictive God, the originator of the concept of an eye for an eye and who often instructed the Jews to kill all men, woman and children, along with the animals, of their defeated enemies. In the New Testament Jesus came to preach about the love and forgiveness of his father. Although the older scriptures were still an important part of the overall religious teachings, it was Jesus’ current message that was to take precedence.

Even the few mentions against homosexuality that are in the New Testament, none are directly attributed to Jesus and they don’t appear in the gospels. They are, for the most part, attributed to the writings of Paul and might possibly have a different basis for being there. First of all, it is important to remember that Paul was a Jew who aggressively persecuted Christians, when he was known as Saul, and his conversion didn’t erase his previous training. As a Jew, Paul was extremely familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures and the prohibition against homosexuality, so his few references about this in his writings might have merely been a throwback to his earlier Judaic foundation and not a necessarily a teaching Jesus felt was important. Otherwise, why didn’t Jesus ever say anything about it?

We also know how the church has taken part in twisting truths or standing by positions, even some they knew were probably incorrect, and persecuting others in order to protect their own interests. This was what happened to Galileo, who was declared a heretic because his theory went against church doctrine. The church felt the scriptures proved the earth was the center of the universe and condemned Galileo, yet his concept that the sun was the center of the universe was later vindicated.

Another group that was easily vilified and which the church played a significant role in persecuting were those they claimed to be involved with witchcraft and working with the devil. Since there was a longstanding belief in witches and wizards, even in pagan societies, it was easy to blame the ills of society upon those supposedly working with the devil. Who knows how many innocent people were condemned to death for this supposed crime by the Inquisition and other religious groups.

Another example might be how the church has tried to downplay the role and even tried to portray a particular New Testament figure in less than favorable light. This person was a woman, Mary Magdalene, who played a very important role in the early Christian movement, possibly even greater than the early church was willing to admit. She was one of Jesus’ most dedicated and ardent followers and the leader of the women traveling with Jesus, and some would even claim she was one of his disciples. Mary was also there when Jesus was crucified, unlike the male disciples who had fled, and part of the group that interred his body immediately afterward. Later, she was one of the first to discover his empty tomb, but she was also the first to whom Christ appeared after his resurrection and told her to tell the others about this fact.

Not only that, but there were other gospels in the early church that weren’t included in the standardized version of the Bible, but which painted Mary in a much different light. One of these was a gospel directly attributed to Mary, which in itself indicated her importance in the early church, and the Gospel of Phillip. In his gospel, Phillip referred to Mary as Jesus’ companion and partner, but it also said that Jesus loved her more than his other disciples. Plus he said that Jesus kissed her often on the, but the last word had been obliterated on the copy, so we’ll never know where for certain he kissed her. The point, however, is that by blocking these gospels from inclusion in the approved text, it helped to relegate Mary’s importance to a lesser role.

The other issue is that Mary has been inaccurately referred to as a prostitute, and whether this was done intentionally or not is in question. Some feel this was a deliberate misinterpretation of the scripture meant to slant the accepted view of her role and done to maintain male superiority and dominance within the church hierarchy and relegate woman to a lesser role. This is an area of contention the church is still dealing with today, the role of women in the church.

If early Christian leaders were able to slant the scriptures to suit their purposes on these issues, then why couldn’t they have done the same thing with other issues, such as homosexuality? Might this just be another of those hotly accepted issues with popular support that the church has decided to adhere to, but might it also one day be acknowledged as being misguided?

Knowing these things, I found it hard to believe that God would create me gay and then tell me I wasn’t permitted to act upon those urges. That wouldn’t fit with the image of the loving and forgiving God of the New Testament, at least it wasn’t the way I saw things. This left me with only one problem, and that was how to deal with everyone else’s perceptions of what God was telling us. I knew this was going to be much more difficult to deal with and overcome.

As I grew and matured, I found my sexual feelings even more difficult to control. Seeing the church also frowned upon even occasional and harmless adolescent nudity, this made it more difficult for me to learn about the beauty and joys of the young male body. It also failed to provide me with visual material I needed to generate the escapist fantasies that I would use as an outlet. There was only one place where I could sate my curiosity and gaze at what I desired. That was the one notable exception to this prohibition on nudity, and that was the communal bathing of prepubescent children.

It was a fairly common practice in our community, since it was something the church didn’t frowned upon, to allow young children of the same sex to take baths together. When I was younger, I took full advantage of this fact and used these baths with neighbor boys to fulfill my voyeuristic tendencies when one of our mothers or an older boy was bathing us. It didn’t bother me when a woman was doing this, because I would be too busy checking out each of the other boys with whom I being bathed. During my youth, I eventually took baths with the sons of a great many members of my father’s congregation. Since bathing boys and girls together was pretty much forbidden, I also never got to learn about the true nature of the difference between the sexes.

When I became too old to join in these bath time pleasures myself, I would find excuses to be around during these times to help out, so I’d be able to see whatever I could. When I became old enough that I was permitted to help out, I even accepted the responsibility of bathing the male children myself and enjoyed the nightly bath time rituals when they occurred. Even though the boys I got to see were younger than I desired, I could at least look at and memorize the differences of the young male form.

Finally, my prayers were answered with my entrance into junior high school, after I was promotion to the 7^th grade, because of the requirement to take group showers after PE class. PRAISE BE TO GOD. These occurrences were a time of great joy for me, but in the same vein, they were also a time of great fear. The joy came from seeing all of the young male bodies parading around the locker room, with their boy meat swaying to and fro, and then watching them soap up those beautiful bodies and rinse them off in full view. Many of these young males were not members of my father’s puritanical order and were less inhibited about being naked in front of others, as compared to those raised in our faith. For that reason, I was able to catch many lengthy glances at their nude bodies, from both near and far, to temporarily satisfy my sense of curiosity and fulfill my desires.

Even though I enjoyed these sessions, it was also a time to be feared, because I was constantly afraid of becoming aroused by seeing all of this bare flesh. Whenever I became too stimulated, my penis would stiffen and this clearly indicated my feelings to everyone else. It was due to this fear that I would masturbate, another mortal sin, several times on gym days. I would do it before I went to sleep the night before and once or twice before I went to school, but I would also slip into the boys’ room to do it again during lunch hour, prior to my afternoon gym class. This didn’t always ensure a stiffy wouldn’t happen, but it did lower the odds of such a thing occurring.

During the school year, I would also pretend to be straight by talking to girls and hanging around them at various church functions, which were usually really boring to begin with. In part, this was due to the fact that movies and dances were frowned upon too, so these functions basically revolved around Bible studies. Anyway, I did my best to give my family and the congregation the appearance of being a wholesome, God-fearing young man, although I felt as if I was betraying myself. Even though doing this was personally painful, I was very successful with this ruse of heterosexuality and no one ever suspected a thing. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was the perfect ‘son of a preacher man.’

The summer between my 8^th and 9^th grade years proved to be an interesting one. As soon as school let out, I went to work for a neighboring farmer during the day, so I could earn some money to put away for my post-high school education. Even though my family was expecting me to attend Bible College and become a minister, just like my father, unless I was able to help out with the expenses there wouldn’t be enough money to cover this small luxury. It was during my initial experience of working on a farm that I also had my very first sexual encounter.

It all started when Ryan was hired to work on the same farm as I was. We were the same age and I casually knew him from school, since we had some classes together, but he didn’t go to my father’s church. After we ate our lunch, but before we went back to work after our midday break, Ryan and I would go out to the barn and fool around in the hayloft for a while. At first, this was all purely innocent fun and we would merely jump from the loft into the hay below, or we might run around the barn while playing tag or hide-and-seek. That all changed one afternoon after Ryan led me up to the loft, because instead of jumping into the hay below, he started asking me a whole bunch of different questions.

“Zach, how often do you beat your meat?” he asked quite frankly.

I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about, because I was too embarrassed to own up to the fact that I did it. In my father’s church, this was not something one would admit to or talk about openly.

“What do you mean?” I countered, trying to deflect his question.

“You know, choke the chicken, flog the donkey or visit Rosie Palm… YOU know, play with your dick,” he blurted out in response.

I continued to act shocked, hoping he’d drop the issue, but that didn’t happen. When I saw he was still staring at me and waiting for my answer, I finally spoke.

“Why would you ask me that?” I wondered.

“Well, its fun and I just wanted to see if you did it as much as I do,” he reasoned, with a grin.

“I don’t know. How often do you do it?” I countered, since I didn’t want to be the first to admit to this.

Ryan blushed a little before he answered, which showed me he wasn’t totally comfortable discussing this either.

“Once or twice a day,” he confessed. “Now, how about you?”

“I do it once in a while, but I’m not sure how often,” I admitted, reluctantly.

“Have you ever done it with another guy?” he followed, shocking me even more.

Since I didn’t really what to answer this question, I feigned embarrassment and shock, but I knew I really wanted to pursue this question further. Did this possibly mean that he wanted to do it with me?

“What do you mean when you say with another guy?” I asked, hoping he’d let me know exactly what he was getting at.

“You know, like watching each other do it, or even better, actually doing it TO each other,” he replied.

I must have gone beet red when he uttered that last statement, because this was the stuff of my dreams.

“Have… uh… have you uh… have you ever done it, with another boy I mean?” I stuttered, nervously.

“Yeah, both ways,” he admitted boldly, maybe even boastfully.

“Really? With whom?” I wondered.

“With my best friend,” he readily answered. “We get together once in while and jerk off for fun. Sometimes we do it to ourselves, usually in one of our bedrooms, but other times we do it to each other.”

“What’s it like, touching another boy’s uh… um… thing?” I mumbled, nervously.

“You mean his cock?” Ryan clarified, while chuckling at my uneasiness with the terminology and topic. “It’s fun and it feels a lot better than when you do it to yourself. You want to try it?”

I didn’t want to rush to answer this, but hell YES, I did want to try it. Even though I was really eager, I just stood there, unsure about how I should respond. I had seen Ryan in the showers at school before and I always thought he was gorgeous and had a nice body. He was about 5’ 5”[165 cm], light blond hair and sky blue eyes, but he also had a real firm, muscular body with nice pecs and the start of a six-pack on his abdomen. He had wide shoulders, for his age, which tapered down to his narrow hips, and smooth, muscular legs, topped by a cute bubble butt and supported by oversized feet. Hidden in his pants, he had the start of a blond patch of silky smooth pubic hair and a 4.5” [11.3 cm] circumcised penis that dangled over a smooth ball sack, which contained his two small nuggets.

We were about the same size and I had a pretty firm body myself, but I had a 5” [12.5 cm] uncut penis sticking out of my mound of brown sex hair. I was always fascinated whenever I saw a circumcised dick, so I wanted so badly to touch his. I guess that I must have hesitated for too long, because Ryan started to explain more, as he tried to put me more at ease with the idea.

“Hey, if it bothers you that my prick is cut and yours isn’t, then you don’t have to worry about it,” he offered. “I think it’s kind of cool that yours is natural. I’ve seen it in the locker room before and have always wondered what it would be like to play with that extra skin.”

“That’s foreskin,” I corrected, surprising myself by doing so. “I’m not afraid. It’s just that I’m just not sure if it’s right.”

“I know your dad’s a preacher and all,” he said reassuringly, “but I know you’ll like it if you want to give it a try. Come on, just do it this once. If you don’t like it, then you won’t ever have to do it again. Promise.”

I lowered my head, looked at the ground, and played shy. Even though I was dying on the inside for the chance to wrap my hand around Ryan’s penis, I didn’t want to give him the impression of being too eager to proceed. After an appropriate pause, I gave him my answer.

“Ok,” I said weakly.

“Great!” Ryan screamed, almost too loudly. Catching himself, he spoke more quietly when he continued. “Drop your pants.”

We both fumbled around, as we unbuckled our belts and then lowered our jeans and briefs. For a moment we just stood there and stared at each other’s penis, before Ryan decided to give me more instructions.

“Look, seeing I’ve done this before, I’ll do you first, so you can see what it’s like. Is that all right with you?” he wondered.

To my surprise, he didn’t wait for my answer and just bent down in front of me and slowly reached his hand out toward my flaccid penis. Gently, he played with the loose skin that hung beyond the bulbous red glans, but he had a strange look on his face as he did so. He continued to pinch and roll the foreskin around in his fingers, but then he would also try to slip his finger into the opening in my sheath. While he was playing with my foreskin with his left hand, he reached his right hand out for my sac and tenderly squeezed and tugged on my balls. After receiving so much attention, my cock continued to firm up and twitched a couple of times, until it was as hard as granite. Ryan then looked up at me with a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Looks like you’re beginning to like this, huh?” he observed.

I just nodded my head in agreement and Ryan went back to work pulling the skin back and forth over the end of my penis. He would draw it back until my deep-red colored head would pop out and then he would push the skin back over it, until the head disappeared again.

“Wow, that’s neat,” he squealed, similar to a kid playing with a new toy at Christmas.”

As he continued playing with the foreskin, my penis began to throb, so Ryan moved slightly to my left side, as his left hand slowly began to stroke my erect member. The more he did this, the faster his hand moved up and down my shaft, but then he reached his right hand between my legs to started to massage my testicles too. Instinctively, I spread my legs as far apart as I could for him, with my pants currently around my ankles, and I became delirious from the pleasure I was receiving from my friend’s hand. I started to hear moans and groans coming from my throat, which gained me another cute smile from Ryan.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” he offered. “Wait until you finally shoot. You’ll love it.”

I knew from my past experiences that I was almost there, since I could feel that pressure building up in my groin. My knees were also beginning to buckle, as I awaited the anticipated release. I was beginning to feel almost too weak to stand when I began to speak.

“I’m going to shoot. I’m… arrrgh… mmm… cumming,” I warned him.

After I’d said that, a rope of my young, creamy juices jettisoned from the tip of my penis, as I released my first explosive burst. Then, it was followed by a second, third and even a fourth burst of my hot boy spunk. Each spurt was slightly less powerful than the one before it, until finally the rest of my cum merely trickled out over Ryan’s thumb and index finger, as he continued to milk my slowly deflating member. Once he thought he had drained every last drop from my softening dick, he stood up and smiled at me, while he continued to help me to remain standing.

“Easy, Zach. You’ll be all right soon,” he offered, as he helped to support my body. “Try to take deep breaths to get your strength back.”

He stood next to me and braced me up, while he waited for me to tell him what I thought about what we’d just done. Once I was sufficiently recovered, he began his verbal interrogation.

“Well, what did you think?” he wanted to know.

“I’ve… I’ve never… I’ve never felt anything that good before,” I admitted, in breathless gasps.

“Yeah, I told you it was great,” he countered. “Do think you’re ready to do the same thing to me now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine and I’ll do you now,” I agreed, while trying not to sound too eager.

“You know what to do now. Right?” Ryan asked to make sure I was ok with this. “Just do everything I did to you and you’ll do fine.”

“I know and I’m ready to do it now,” I verified.

With that, Ryan moved in front of me and thrust out his hips in my direction. The same way he had done to me, I first knelt down in front of him, so I could examine his prick more closely. I loved to look at that circumcised cock and its nice pink crown, but I also examined the scar left by the operation and traced my fingers around the ridge of his glans. Then, I followed the veins up his shaft with my fingertips, before I gently took his organ in my hand and held it like it was a delicate piece of crystal that might shatter if I squeezed it too tightly.

Slowly I started to stroke his stiffening member and could feel Ryan’s body begin to jerk spasmodically in my hand. I tightened my grip slightly and picked up the pace, but I was really enjoying finally being able to touch another boy like this and didn’t want it to ever end. At this point, I also heard Ryan start to moan, so I knew I must be doing a fairly good job and he was getting close. Seeing I wanted to bring him as much pleasure as possible, I forgot about my own thoughts and concentrated on pleasing my new friend.

Suddenly I remembered something else and reached my left hand between his legs, so I could stroke his testicles, as my right hand continued to slide even faster over the surface of his boyhood. Involuntarily, Ryan’s body began to shudder as his testicles started to be sucked upward, as they were pulled closer to his body, while at the same time I could feel his cock swell in my hand. Suddenly, his first fluid rope rocketed from his dick and shot across the floor. Ryan whimpered as the second, third, and fourth shots erupted from his cock and reached out for my shoulder to help steady his wobbly frame. I continued stroking his penis until the final drop emerged from the tip and then I looked at Ryan for approval.

“Was it ok?” I asked, hopefully.

Ryan didn’t answer right away, but when he finally came back to his senses, he gave me a resounding answer.

“Damn straight, it was,” he stated, grinning broadly. “You learn pretty quick, so thanks.”

Once he was able to stand on his own again, both of us reached down and pulled our pants back up, before zipping up and buckling our belts. Then, we just stood looking at each other, wondering what the other was thinking.

“Do you think you might want to do this again sometime?” Ryan asked, and I could see the expectation in his eyes.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I agreed. “You were right, it was a lot better than when I do it by myself.”

“Cool. I liked doing it better with you than with my best friend, because I think your prick is neat,” Ryan admitted, while looking at me to gauge my reaction.

“Thanks. I really like yours, too,” I concurred.

“Come on, we’ve got to get back before these rest of them go out to fields to work again,” Ryan suggested. “I don’t want anyone coming in here and finding us, because they might get suspicious with all of this cum on the floor.” After saying this, Ryan pointed toward the streaks and puddles of cum on the loft floor. “I’ll come back after we finish work for the day and clean it up and then next time you can do it. All right”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine,” I agreed.

With that said, we left the barn, smiling from ear to ear, as we continued to revel in the wonderful feelings that still tingled deep in our loins. I was especially happy, knowing that Ryan was willing to do this with me again. After years of hoping, I’d finally found a partner in crime and was savoring the memories of every delicious second of what we’d done, while replaying it over and over again in my mind.

That night at home, after I cleaned up from the long, hard day of work, I lie on my bed and dreamed about the possibilities that still lay ahead with Ryan. The summer was still young and we had many weeks of working side-by-side still ahead of us. I fell asleep that night dreaming about Ryan and me playing endless sexual games and shooting load after load of boy spunk. When I awoke the next morning, I realized that part of my dreams had come true, because I had shot load after load into my underwear during the wet dreams I experienced during my slumber.