“That you would’ve expected me to block,” I said, finishing Hawk’s sentence. “Since I’m being transparent, the hit was on purpose. But now that you know, I won’t ever do it again. I felt as guilty as if I’d thrown a match. Thus, the reason that I started taking matters into my own hands. I apologize, Hawk. Sincerely.”
“It all makes sense now. I didn’t want to accuse you of anything unless I was sure. One more time and I would’ve been on your ass about it. Having said that, your back looks raw, Ethan. You need to give yourself a rest. I’m trying to understand the loss you’re feeling without a dominant to be your support but from now on, you’re not to wear a shirt in the ring.” Hawk held my gaze. “Ethan, if I decide that your self-abuse is getting out of hand, I will ban you from the premises.”
Hawk must’ve heard me gulp as I tried to swallow his warning. I felt heat traveling from my neck to my cheeks. “I hear you, Hawk. But we’re good for now, right?”
“Yes, except we’re not sparring tonight,” Hawk said, his tone serious. “Like I said, your back has to heal first.”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
Hawk patted my arm. “See you next week.”
I didn’t want to leave on a sour note. Attempting to regain a measure of respect back from Hawk, I straightened and said, “Hey, the automotive journal I ordered for you came in. I’ll drop it by later.”
Hawk gave me a warm smile. “You’re a good person, Ethan. Someone else might’ve gotten angry with me.”
“You gave me an opportunity to explain.” I stared off into the distance and then back at Hawk. “Someone once told me that everyone deserves a second chance. I’ve never forgotten and I always make good on them when they come my way.”
Hawk jumped out and as soon as he was halfway up the block, I slammed my hands on the steering wheel. Oblivious that the windows were open, I let out a shrill “fuck!” that was half scream and half wail. Then I dropped my head to my hands and muttered curses under my breath. I hadn’t been fully honest with Hawk. The motivation for self-flagellation was in part to satisfy an innate need for a Dom. The other reason, however, stemmed from guilt for a heinous act that even after six and a half years, I hadn’t been able to purge.
When I opened my eyes, a flash of blond hair and a black collar caught my attention in my periphery. Turning my head, I saw Father Donlan on the top step of the rectory. He must’ve come out to investigate the lunatic who’d screamed his lungs out. Even from a distance, I saw a mix of concern and curiosity across his beautiful face. But with embarrassment crushing me, I didn’t want to hang around. I buckled my seat belt, started the engine, and took off down the street. I glanced back to find the priest hadn’t moved, tracking the growing distance between us with a startled expression and his mouth slightly agape.
TWO
JUDE
I stared after the stranger,unable to pull my eyes away. I’d never seen the man before and when our gazes caught in the church, my breath had hitched, a reaction to green eyes the color of emerald jade. The sunlight filtered through the stained-glass window highlighted a fringe of long eyelashes, a straight nose, and light stubble on a firm chin—like objects on an abstract painting on a canvas of cocoa skin. His mahogany hair was longer at the top but the sides were shaved tight, highlighting his cheekbones, and I found myself hurrying away before my hardening dick showed through my trousers.
Now, when the truck turned a corner and all I looked upon was the empty street, I darted back inside the rectory with my traitorous dick bulging. I turned the deadbolt, drew the shades down, and headed to my bedroom at the back of the house. I passed the parish office where Inés, the secretary, and her helper, Isabel kept the church running smoothly. I tried not to think too much of my priestly duties pinned to a calendar in my office next to the certificate of ordination I’d received when I wasordained into the Order of Friars Minor, the official name for the Franciscan order, or OFM.
I shook my head of those thoughts as I raced to my bedroom. Once inside, I fell back against the closed door, panting.Fuck! I didn’t want to be dwelling on the stranger. I’d only just submitted my letter of laicization—a formal petition for being released from my obligations within the clerical state. The ordination itself was considered indelible, meaning in the eyes of the Church, I’d always be considered a priest. I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse. Once I was done with the Church, the invisible attachment was going to grate on my conscience, reminding me that I’d failed. But right then, I was going to combust if I didn’t relieve my heavy cock. Masturbation might not be encouraged, but it was allowed. And that’s all the permission I needed.
I thought of just pulling out my cock and jacking off still dressed. But then I remembered I had the clerical collar on. And that would’ve been too weird. My mouth rose in a slow grin as I considered a second option. Kicking off my shoes, I removed the collar and peeled off my clothes in record time. In the bathroom, I yanked the cabinet drawer with such vigor that it would have clattered to the tiled floor had I not caught it in time. Setting the drawer on the counter, I took out the items I wanted.
The bathroom was so small that I pulled the shower curtain open from where I stood. Reaching over the tub, I suctioned the dildo onto the tiled wall and placed the water-resistant lube on the built-in soap dish. Then I turned on the shower and while waiting for the water to get hot, brought up mental images of the stranger. The man was a couple of inches shorter than my six feet two, with the obvious physique of an athlete by the appearance of corded biceps and jeans that hugged thick thighs. It was the powerful body of a rugby player or boxer.
Steam soon began fogging the mirror, and I stepped into the tub and closed the curtain, all the while imagining green eyes and full lips. Raising my face to the cascading water I slicked back my hair and without wasting time I squirted a dollop of lube onto my third finger. Bracing myself on the wall with my right hand, I reached behind and began massaging my crease in preparation to insert a finger. But it had been too damn long since I pleasured myself and I’d never before had a gorgeous, sexy man at the front of my mind A man that had been so close I could’ve touched him. A man that had stared back at me…
My cock jerked, the head purple with need. I jabbed a single digit past the first ring of muscle. My hole was so damn tight but the intrusion felt damn good and after massaging the inside I added a second and third finger in quick succession. “Fuck, I need more…” I whimpered and grabbed the lube, smearing some on the dildo and then slowly backing up. As soon as I felt the head of the toy at my entrance, I used the back wall to brace my body from imminent impact and impaled myself. A harsh cry caught in my throat as the stretch and burn stole my air. My head dropped forward and I struggled to breathe, even as moans and a litany of huffs and grunts sounded in the enclosure. My body began to rock back and forth in slow motion, gaining gradual speed like a live wire.
God, it had been such a long time… too fucking long. I was trying not to hit my prostate because if I did, I would shoot my load too fast. The stranger’s jade eyes and full lips loomed front and center behind my closed eyes. My breathing sped and I rolled my hips as I envisioned muscled arms pinning me down. When the dildo rubbed against my prostate, sweat pearled and dripped onto my face and I took hold of my cock and began jacking. A few rapid thrusts in and out of my slicked hand as I continued to spear myself on the dildo… and I lost all control. It was all I could do to keep ramming the toy into my holewhen my balls tightened and my orgasm raced up my spine like a lightning rod, making my eyes white out and my body spasm and quake. Cum splattered the tiled wall and when my vision cleared, I watched water wash it away. Then I gingerly pulled off the toy and dropped to my knees.
I checked in with myself for traces of guilt. In the early years after becoming ordained, I’d been wracked with shame, hearing recrimination from my mentor, Father Matthew, whenever I confessed that I’d masturbated. But as time passed, I’d learned to keep my desires and how I acted on them to myself. I wasn’t breaking any rules. Nonetheless, with the last drops of cum swirling down the drain, I knew what I had to do—a decision that was long overdue.
I pushed to my feet and pulled the dildo from the wall, then tossed it into the sink. I lathered myself with the grounding fragrance of lavender and sandalwood and scrubbed away the lingering evidence of my orgasm. I thought again about the stranger and wondered when I’d see his truck again. That was, unless whatever had upset him enough to scream in the confines of his vehicle would keep him away. A thought that I chose not to dwell on.
I toweled off and when I was in sweatpants and a tee, I slipped into flip-flops and went into the kitchen in search of food. I’d eaten a late lunch but nothing since then. Opening the refrigerator, I looked over the leftovers and decided on microwaving vegetarian tamales one of the parishioners had made. I ate meat but she didn’t, and these were tasty, filled with potatoes, chopped vegetables, chickpeas, and rice that was seasoned with Mexican spices and herbs. I added a large dollop of guacamole as a side.
My belly grumbled with hunger as the heat released the savory aromas from the spicy concoction. A minute later, the microwave dinged. Grabbing a kitchen towel, I removed theplate and set it on the table. Taking a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, I flipped the cap off and tilted the glass at the right angle to pour without too much froth. With my cutlery already on the table, I sat and took a moment to give thanks for the food. It was a habit from years at all-boys Catholic schools, both elementary and high school, and then seminary. Presently, the prayer held no meaning but I was hard put to stop the habit and jinx myself.
My eyes dropped to the food, which I knew was delicious, but my hunger suddenly fled in the knowledge that with a few exceptions during the five months that I’d been pastor, I’d eaten alone every night. Usually lunches as well, unless I made a sandwich at noon and ate it in my office with Inés right outside at her desk.
I forced another bite of tamale, washed it down with a slug of beer, and huffed in frustration with myself. I was hungry but my sudden sense of aloneness eclipsed every other need. Angry at myself for letting my mood get the better of me, I tossed the meal in the trashcan, picked up my glass, and went outside to sit on the patio.
I knew why I was bothered more than usual. The stranger. The feel of wanting that was easier to keep repressed when I didn’t have anyone in my sight. Of course, I’d felt adrift in my solitary existence even before I laid eyes on the man; one of the reasons I’d made the decision to leave the clerical life. I’d always been social. And now, my daily conversations were either with Inés about Church matters or a parishioner that needed an encouraging word concerning their marriage, kids or any other issue they brought to me. I’d hoped that jacking off would’ve taken the edge off my depressing mood. Instead, fucking a dildo might’ve been effective in the moment but an hour later I was back to feeling bitter.
I heard my phone ring from where it was in the kitchen and groaned at the intrusion. But despite my angst, I took the responsibility of the congregation seriously and I would continue to do so until the moment I walked away.
I jogged inside and tensed when I saw the caller’s name and considered letting the call go to voicemail. On a sigh, I pressed the green to accept the call, knowing that the priest wouldn’t have given up. “Good evening, Father Matthew,” I answered.
