nin rox.
p.s. the story is written in 3 main points-of view!
It's still getting worse after everything I’ve tried..
What if I found a way to wash it all aside..
What if he touches with those fingertips..
As the words spill out like fire from his lips.
If he says come inside, I'll come inside for him..
If he says give it all, I’ll give everything to him..
I am justified..
I am purified..
I am sanctified..
Inside you.
Heaven's just a rumor he'll dispel.. As he walks me through the nicest parts of hell... I still dream of lips I never should have kissed.. Well, he knows exactly what I can't resist.. And if he says come inside, I'll come inside for him.. And if he says give it all, I'll give everything to him... I am justified.. I am purified.. I am sanctified.. Inside you...
I'm just caught up in another of his spells..
Well, he's turning me into someone else..
Every day I hope and pray that this will end.
But when I can I'd do it all again..
And if he says come inside, I'll come inside for him..
And if he says give it all, I'll give everything to him.
I am justified..
I am purified..
I am sanctified..
Inside you...
Dreams rob my sleep, so I fight to stay awake. Voices whisper in my ear, a contest of both evil and pure. I lie curled up on my side, naked. My body is perfect. Or so you will come to notice. My face is clean, shaven of all facial hair except for a small blonde patch rested on my chin. Beautifully sparkling, jade pools would gaze at you until you wept. Long eyelashes mask my upper cheeks, cherishing the pronounced bones in the most serious of ways. My nose, cute and slightly upturned, nestles against the twill pillowcase, the scent of my reformed sin filling my nostrils like a thickened cloud. A tiny scar in my right nostril remains unnoticed, for the diamond stud that had gorgeously twinkled so many times in the past, had previously been removed.
My mouth, which has attracted so many, is closed. My lips lightly rest together, as luscious and full as ever, but lacking their former lusty kiss. Pink and healthy, slightly pursed to form an innocent pucker. My tongue rests inside the warmth of my mouth, its former evil conquests branded on the width of the tiny muscle. I only wish I could taste your kiss, for subconsciously, my body awaits it. Long, golden locks of hair curtain against my cheek, each strand silkily soft. It spills down my back in a blonde flood, the ends curled and spiraled against the flesh of my bare shoulders. I long for you to touch it, but you cannot.
The wool blankets protect me from the cold of the night, falling low on my thighs and tucked beneath my resting form. With every breath I take, my pectoral muscles clench and relax. A natural rhythm. My nipples stand erect, longing for the gentlest of attention. Goosebumps mark my skin, the tiny bumps indicating my building excitement. My arm, hugs me close, but somehow doesn’t provide the comfort I want, I need. My fingertips idly brush against my side, the muscles of my biceps lifelessly lying against my ribs. My stomach inwardly contracts, the muscles quivering for a moment before calming once more. My abs, still well-toned, ripple, stunning waves of muscle displaying a flawless cleft running down the center. A pale path of hair trails between the cleavage of my abdominal muscles, passing through my navel to lead straight down to my groin. Your eyes would travel down to my lower abdomen, for as hard as I try, it still maintains a certain graceful sexiness. My hips, forgotten from their seductive sway, bulge slightly, aching for your fingers to grasp.
Colorless wisps of hair embrace the base of my cock, which stiffens with the promise of your forbidden desire. My balls, heavy and full with repent and crudely denied passion. The smooth skin of my inner thighs, cursed with a few coiled blonde hairs, errantly stray from my sack. I’d die at the scorching heat of your mouth caressing my sensitive flesh, and never would I reject my adoration. My legs, tangled amidst one another under the covers, are free of any hair at all. My calf muscles flex with each tingle in my curled toes, my feet cuddled close together and sharing their warmth. There is no one to snuggle up behind me, to whisper lewd obscenities in my ear with that special deviousness. There are no hands to caress my backside, to knead the flesh I yearn for someone to grip. I shudder in my sleep. My perfection can only be appreciated by one. And that one is someone who needs me as much as I need him..
I am a priest. A devoutly inspired minstrel of God. Catholicism. A few years ago, I would have never expected to be in such a position. For my past life is tainted with sins and infidelities. Sex, drugs, and violent abuse. Abuse of the mind. Abuse of faith. Abuse of the soul. I shall not deeply mention my past endeavors, for fear of reawakening my confined evil. Caged and restricted, pushed aside to explore religious horizons. To give yourself to God, you must separate yourself from society. Reality. A sincere vow of celibacy is required, and I have lived up to my promise. I cannot say I am truthfully happy, nor can I admit I’m not ecstatic. My former sex life was heavily concentrated on snorting a line or two before spreading my legs to anyone that wanted me. There were plenty of nights such as these, a few more memorable than others, but intensely mediocre nonetheless. Whatever I desired, I had. My life spiraled into a bubble. With bright, sparkling walls and a shimmering coat of protection. Everything seemed so beautiful, so different. That is until it popped. I fell. Hard. For someone I knew I couldn’t have.
Do you know what it’s like to need so deeply that you forget yourself in the process? Eh, I don’t blame you, really. The only god I could worship was him. Or so I thought. I contemplated giving myself to him, as wrong as it was. Since then, I have forgotten about that person. Or tried to. But sometimes, I envision him in my dreams, him being all that I crave. He knows it too. That’s what haunts me the most. He stares at me with that fiery gaze, and grasps my conviction in the palm of his hand. The way he manipulates my faith is so sweet, so deliberate. My lust for him grows even when it shouldn’t, and as many confessions as I make, it still matures. As dark as my secrets, as promiscuous as my past, he is the enemy that you can’t deny. And I love him.
Blinking awake, I sit up immediately, my emerald gaze skipping around the silent room in eager suspicion. Silence. My heart pounds within the confines of my chest, warm fingers tightly clutching the cotton sheets. A deep sigh of relief tears from my mouth, my incisor teeth lightly worrying my lower lip. Running a hand through my tangled locks, I lean back against the metal headboard, my chest quickly rising and falling with each gasp of breath. Damn. Another nightmare. I’d been having them quite often within the past month. For whatever reasons I really couldn’t explain. Always the same image. In my own church, at the end of the aisle I’d be seated on the glossy wooden bench. My gaze, focused and gawking up at the statue of Christ, nervous hands pressed together in prayer. Suddenly, a hand would touch my shoulder, yanking me out of my thoughts.
I raise his face to the stranger’s, and nearly die at the sight. The man was stunningly gorgeous. And yet so familiar. His skin, creamy and supple, his nose, pronounced and upturned, his lips, full and perfect. His eyes were entrancing, the darkest of melted brown with a hint of hazel. The man’s several piercings gleamed and twinkled in the dim lit of the room. His eyebrow, the tongue that licked the crevices of his lips, his nipples, and even his cock. That was the sight that always created that stir in my groin, and an ache in my heart. Surgical steel barbells up and down the stranger’s thick shaft, a flawless row of silver jewelry. Wordlessly, I would stare up into the man’s heated gaze, and lose myself entirely. Sooner than expected, I would drop to his knees and take the mysterious cock into my mouth, the heat of my tongue skillfully coaxing the nectar from the man’s dick. In all this time, my eyes would remain locked on the man’s gaze, revealing my innermost secrets and desires with a passionate stare. Then one word would knock me out of the dream.
“Jeff..”, the mysterious being would whisper, so convincingly ardent and needful. How did this man know my name? Was I that transparent?
It always frightened me, still does. I always wake up, my breath suddenly short and quickened. I had started a new life exactly 3 years ago. I had even worked hard to make sure no one knew about his former alias. I was Father Phillips now. Jeff Hardy was my past, my downfall. My sexuality was washed away, for my current preference is women. Or at least it’s what I try to assure myself of. It is a sin to practice homosexuality. After washing away my transgressions, a new life developed in its place. A life of diligence and determination. Sacrifices. My past was coming back to ruin me..
Breathing returning to normal, I slid back under the covers, turning over onto my side and wrapping an arm around the supposed form of a pillow. Gasping, my eyes flickered open to stare over at the warm figure lying on the mattress. With eyes of intense fire and deviousness, the stranger smirked in the dark, his grin knowingly sexy. I knew this man. I had met him so many times before. It was him. His hair was pulled back from his face, revealing more of his beauty than I had ever dreamt of.
I immediately opened my mouth to speak, too needy to let the moment pass. With a smile, he instantly touched his lips to mine, quieting any questions or thoughts that formerly existed. Eagerly, I parted my lips, accepting his tongue and inviting his heat into my mouth, my body. His body begged to be touched, even more so than my own. Complying with his wishes, I dipped my hand down beneath the sheets, my fingers melting around his cock. So rigid and thick. So throbbing and lengthy. So mine. I stroked him firmly, moaning against his mouth as his cock pulsed in my hand, glossy nails occasionally raking against his enormous, pierced shaft. The light clink of the tip of my nails hitting the devious row of metal jewelry rung in my ears, enticing my senses in a dance of lust.
Deepening the kiss, he stole my breath so expertly, leaving me sagging against him. His mouth crushed against my shoulder, nipping and biting at the fragrant skin as his teeth pulled at my flesh. His palms strayed down to my backside, his breathing ragged as his fingertips dug into the sweet curves of my ass, pulling me even closer. I raised my hands to tangle in his sweaty curls, gasping as he quickly flipped me onto my back. His body ideally pressed against mine, his gaze burning down into my own. He looked as if he was searching for something in my eyes, an evil grin lighting up his face as he raised up onto his hands, his fingers splayed against the sheets. Out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed the bright flame of a candle flickering atop the bedstand, its wax dripping down into the silver tray it rested upon. I blinked. I hadn’t remembered it being lit before. Smirking, he leaned down to whisper at my ear, his erotic scent trapping me in his web.
“You do know that I’m bad for you, Father..”, the stranger whispered, a hint of amusement evident in his voice. And with that, he yanked back the linen, exposing my body to his hungry eyes.
His hands roamed my shivering flesh, his touch surprisingly soothing. His skilled tongue alternated between sucking at my nipples and lashing at the outline of the stiff peaks. I gasped, my eyelids fluttering closed as I reveled in the sensations, my rational completely lost. My cock quickly hardened between our nude forms, brushing against the damp skin of the stranger’s thigh. The man leaned over to brush his lips against the head of my cock, his tongue as hot as the fire that swirls in my groin. Without breathing, I quickly realized that the stranger’s mouth was engulfing my cock, eliciting a low, breathy moan from my lips. My back arched at the sensation, my entire body wracked with endless shudders. His mouth went to work on my aching cock with an unparalleled desire, each warm breath escaping his nose flashing another deviously erotic image into my brain.
He knew I wanted more than just a blowjob, and I could feel his lips curving into a smirk around my shaft. How badly I wanted to ram my cock down his throat, the liquid muscles melting into a staggering grip clear down to my balls. As if reading my thoughts, his fingers rose to squeeze at my curves, powerfully holding my hips down against the sheets. Gradually, my mind began to float in the distance, my breathing incredibly slow and heavy. I pretended to insist that this was only a dream, for my salvation was still intact. I would never give myself so wantonly, with such careless abandon. Right? I still wanted to shriek his name. But what would I call him? He had so many names, so many titles. Savior. I smiled to myself, the quiet intensity of my pleasure hurtling me towards a place I had known before. I had been there so often, and it knew me well. As I knew it, too..
*~*~*
My name? Irrelevant. Besides, I’m quite well-known. You might not recognize me for all that I am, but I receive as well as I take. You shall grow to adore me, to love me. And if you don’t? Ha. Bullshit. One glance in my direction, and you’re mine. Bound in my spell. But if I described myself, you’d find yourself frightened at my seductions, my past, present, and future. Fine. I am a brunette. Quite a charming one, at that.
As of now, I wear no clothes, for they aren’t required for this particular task. My pure, cocoa gaze, full of hate and contempt, studies the intricate facial expressions of the man lying naked before me. My nose, buried in the fine blonde hair covering the base of his cock, matches his own. My hair burns a sinful brand into the blonde’s thighs, each soft wisp curling at the soft encouragement leaking from the man’s perfect lips.
The slick perspiration on my back glistens in the glow the strategically-placed flame, the black candle burning in the crisp eve. The tiny flame plays on the luster of the onyx polish that adorns my nails, which dig into the priest’s hipbones at each wet plunge of my mouth. Bent at the waist, my stomach muscles clench tightly, the light shimmer of sweat appealing to even the guiltless. My backside, round and firm, attracts a bead of perspiration that runs down the flushed skin to collect in between the beautiful halves.
With each compression of muscle, my dick throbs between my thighs, huge and weighted. But I quickly push my physical need aside to fulfill my mental urges, my eyes closing as my teeth lightly scrape along the underside of his shaft. My pretty head bobs up and down his cock, each thrash of my tongue burying the young man deeper into his romance. Romance of what I allow him, of what I do not judge of him. I nearly grin as I feel his fingers tangled amidst my dark locks, silently begging for more.
My feelings? I had none until I met Father Phillips, or Jeff Hardy as I have come to known him. He was born into my passions, my evil deities. I had been more than familiar with the younger man. Had been for 24 years. I knew him better than I even knew myself. We have been involved for centuries before this one, since the beginning of creation. But none of that is important for now, so forget I ever told you. I inhale the sweet scent of his cleanliness, his invisible purity. Tracing lines and twists against his skin with my fingertips, I revel in swallowing his cock, my eyes opening once more to burn their mark into his face. Like a poorly discarded cigarette, inferno blazes in my stare, transfixed upon the sight before me. Growling deeply, I rise to the tip of his cock, only to slurp the pre-cum dribbling from the tip, before swiftly lowering down once more.
The metal in my mouth heats rapidly, the titanium cross of a stud lapping at the vein thumping on the surface of my tongue. I skillfully suck his cock, his sharp tugs and yanks at my head nearly pulling my hair out of my scalp. I watch as his mouth gapes slightly, tiny vessels and arteries twitching beneath the skin of his abdomen. He lets out a soft sob, and with a snarl of a moan, he spills into the exquisite heat of my mouth.
Gulping down every drop, my lips remain wrapped around his cock, taking the sizable length with experience and fluency. The taste of his cum, indescribable at best. The sweetest reward of a priest’s essence, reminding me of desires I had never dared to envision. I allow my mouth to linger on his cock for a moment longer, my gaze flicking up to lustily peer up at the young man. Unconscious. Breathing lazily, I crawl my way back up his body, softly biting his bottom lip. Seductively, I run my tongue over his mouth, leaving him a brief taste of his own cum before slipping out of his bed. Silently, I disappear into the darkness without another word uttered..