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From Pastor to Pozzed Hole

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Part 1: Will meets Dominic 

I’ve been one of the lead pastors at East Nondenominational Church for two years. I graduated from the seminary at 26, but I found it difficult to find a job at first. I was seen as too young by many. I finally found a church interested, one a few states away, and was possibly too eager when we scheduled a Skype call.

“We’re very impressed, Will” Pastor Kline, the head pastor told me. He was in his fifties, short white hair. He reminded me of my father who was a pastor himself. “All your references speak highly of your orator skills. I believe you’d be a great addition to our church.”

“Really? That’s great. Thank you.”

Pastor Kline’s smile faded somewhat. “There is one thing that myself and Pastor Matthews are concerned about, however.”

“What’s that?”

“We all know that you’re young. And I’ve already assured you that this isn’t a problem. Our concern is that you aren’t married. Now, we know that not everyone gets married, but, seeing as you are a young man, and, may I say, good looking, it is sometimes awkward for members.”


“Young women in the congregation often seek out single pastors or they feel as if they’re prey to them. We just like to make this issue known beforehand.”

“I understand, Pastor Kline,” I told him, feeling a bit awkward hearing him say that I was good looking. I was fit, spending a few hours at the gym each week, making sure I was healthy but not overly muscular. My brown hair and green eyes were often complimented by those I dated, but I never thought much about my appearance. “I’ve dated before,” I told him. “I had a long-term girlfriend in college. It just didn’t work out.”

“I understand. We just want to keep everyone safe. We’d hate to lead anyone into sin.”

“I agree,” I told him. “I’d never do anything to cause anyone to stumble.”

Pastor Kline turned out to be correct. It didn’t take long before I spent every Sunday morning surrounded by women, dropping hints that they were single and interested in going on a date. Whether it was the clear desperation or not, I didn’t find myself interested. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Sure, I wanted to find someone and get married, have kids, but there was something in the back of my mind that kept me from pursuing this life fully. What it was, I didn’t know. Not yet, at least.

A Sunday morning came when I stood out in the lobby greeting our members as they came in. I flashed my smile, shaking hands, avoiding the stares from the women who wanted me to propose. As I shook hands, I noticed a man enter the front doors that I had never seen before. He was a large guy, bald, around forty if I had to guess. He was wearing a short sleeve black shirt which showed off large muscles and hairy forearms, tattoos around his biceps. His black jeans were tight, showing strong legs. It wasn’t like we had never had anyone like him here before, but there was something in the way this man carried himself, something in his essence, that captivated me, causing me to take notice.

Without realizing, I found myself drawn to him, seeking him out so that I could shake his hand.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Pastor Ryder. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“First time,” he said, his voice low, a bit of a rasp. He took my hand and shook it. He had a firm grip. “I’ve driven past here for years. Decided to step inside for a change.”

“I’m glad that you did,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes looking from my face and moving down my suited body to my shoes. The corner of his mouth turned into a grin. “Same here,” he said. “I’m not much of a God person.”

“That’s alright,” I told him. “God finds us wherever we are.”

“Does he?”

I could tell that the man was playing a game, taunting me. I wasn’t easily aggravated, so I knew I could take whatever he gave out. “I don’t think I caught your name,” I said.

“Dominic Moore,” he said.

“Well, Mr. Moore, we’re glad to have you here. The service is about to start. Pastor Kline is preaching today. I think you’ll love to hear his message. If you have any questions for me, let me know. I’ll be here after the service.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked. He passed me and entered the sanctuary, glancing back once and catching my eye.

I stood frozen until I lost sight of him. I shook off whatever caused this momentary confusion and darted to my office. I had to sit down for a second, alone. I caught my breath, unable to understand why I was feeling so flustered. I had never felt like this before. I felt as if I had just worked out. My heart was pounding quickly, sweat collecting around my hairline. I checked my armpits and found that I had started to sweat through my dress shirt. While no one would notice, I felt uncomfortable. I had a change of shirt in one of my drawers just in case.

I took it out and started to change. As I tucked in the new shirt, my hand grazing my crotch and I nearly collapsed from the sensation. It had been several days since I last jerked off, making me sensitive, but I’d never felt like this before. I tried to push down the need to touch myself, but found it difficult. I closed my eyes and started to breathe deep, calming myself. In my mind, the image of Dominic Moore standing in front of me was clear as day. I could see his chiseled face, his strong, tatted, hairy arms. I could feel his hand in mine. My eyes opened and I found my hand firmly grasping my cock. Shocked and a bit disgusted, I quickly finished dressing myself and returned to the lobby. I was going to pretend that nothing had happened, because nothing had. Everything was fine. Wasn’t it?

Dominic was on top of me. His strong body, muscles rippling under sweaty skin, weighed down on me. His chest was covered in hair, his musk collected within the follicles. I could smell him, my head dizzy from the natural smell of man. His eyes were focused on mine.

“How does that feel?”

“Incredible,” I said. I glanced down and saw my legs wrapped around his waist, my cock and balls rubbing against his abs as he buried his enormous, veiny cock into my butt. I felt myself tearing open, as if every part of myself was opening up to him, allowing him inside me in every way possible. I felt full. I felt as if I couldn’t imagine existing in any other way.

His rhythm increased as he started grunting, sweat covering our bodies. His cock brushed against my prostate, sending my cock into overdrive. I wasn’t even touching myself and I could still feel a powerful orgasm surging forward.

“Ready, baby?”

“Do it. Cum in me. Take me, Dom.”

“Here it comes.”

My eyes shot open as I started cumming. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My chest was heaving, my heart racing. I fumbled in the dark and turned on the lamp next to my bed. The light hurt my eyes at first until they grew accustomed. Searching the room, I found I was alone. Why was that a surprise? Of course I was alone. Why would someone be there with me? Who would be there with me? I checked the time. 4 a.m.

I sat up, finding my sheets sticking to my body. I was sweating profusely. I threw off my covers and looked down, my boxers tented and soaked through. The smell of cum hit me, my head spinning from the sweet smell and the pungent odor of my sweating body. I was getting high off myself, something I had never done before. What was happening?

I lifted the waistband and found globs of cum intermixed in my pubes, soaking into the boxer fabric. It had been a while since I had had a wet dream. I tried to climb out of bed to change, but I felt too weak. Collapsing back into bed, I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I had been dreaming about.

“Here it comes.”

Dominic Moore. I’d dreamt about Dominic Moore. I could see his face. I could feel the weight of his body on mine. I could smell his sweat. I could feel his hairy chest pressed against mine. I could feel his huge cock pumping into—

I stopped, looking down at my hand. Without realizing, I’d scooped up some of my cum and brought it to my mouth, a few stray pubic hairs mixed in. I stared down at the mess, the smell of the fresh cum filling my nose. I’d never tasted my cum before. I’d never wanted to. It seemed gross to eat something that came out of your body. Still, something about the smell was intoxicating, sweet and inviting. My mouth slowly opened as I inserted my hand, running my tongue along my cum-soaked fingers. It was a taste unlike anything I had ever had. It was salty but also sweet. The warmth was inviting, as if I was returning it to where it belonged. I swallowed and savored the feeling, licking my lips.

Then I realized what I’d done. My hand was shaking, the cum residue sticking to my skin. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, washing my hand and stripping off my boxers. I cleaned myself up as well as I could, but I couldn’t erase the image of Dominic Moore on top of me, inside of me. I couldn’t escape the feeling I had felt, wanting him there, wanting him to take me. I wasn’t gay. I’d never thought of another man like this. Why was I now? What was going on?

After my dream about Dominic, I couldn’t get back to sleep. All I could do was see his face. I wandered into my office the next day in a daze. I sat at my computer trying to plan out my next sermon, but instead of God, all I could think about was Dominic. I tried to push past the dream, but my recurring erection kept me returning to the moment when I could see in Dominic’s eyes a sinister lusting unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I was mesmerized.

“Will,” Pastor Kline said, knocking on my door. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” I said, trying to supply a convincing smile.

“Are you sure? I said hello when you walked by my office and you looked like you were in a trance or something.”

“Nothing like that,” I told him. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You’re too young to be having sleeping problems.”

“Nothing like that. It’s just… can I talk to you Mark?”

“Sure,” he said, closing the door and sitting down. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been feeling… guilty, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Well, um.” There’s no way I can tell Pastor Kline about my dream. What would he think? How would I even begin to explain? “I’m feeling guilty over a dream I had last night.”

“A dream?” he said, staring at me until his eyes grew wide. “Oh, I see. A dream.”

“I’ve felt guilty all day. I feel like I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Did you?”

“Well, I guess not. Not really. I just had a dream.”

“Listen, Will, you’re a young guy. That kind of thing happens to young guys. It still happens to me on occasion. Dreams are outside of our control. I’m guessing you…”

I nodded.

“Think of it as a freebee,” he said. “You didn’t do it to yourself. Sometimes, our bodies need to release and create a scenario in which it’s possible. You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive.” He stood up and started toward the door, stopping just out in the hall. “By the way, there was a new visitor on Sunday who sent me an email, saying he wanted to stop by sometime this week and meet with you. He said you greeted him at the door and found you personable. He says he’d like to talk with you.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Dominic Moore, I believe,” Pastor Kline said.

“Dominic Moore,” I said, my voice catching. “He wants to meet with me?”

Pastor Kline nodded. “He said he enjoyed talking with you. I’ll forward you the email so you can respond.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to meet with him instead?” I asked, trying to restrain the worry in my voice. At the same time, I scooted closer to my desk, hiding the boner which was starting to form. “You are the head pastor after all.”

“Will, you need to have confidence in yourself. This is a part of our job. When God sends us someone asking for our help, we need to welcome him in. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course,” I said, faking a smile. “I’ll email him before I leave.”

“I’ll send you his email.”

Once Pastor Kline was gone, I slumped down in my chair, reeling as my hard cock smashed against the underside of my desk. How am I supposed to meet with Dominic when I can’t get through a conversation without getting a hard-on? Nothing made sense. I wasn’t gay, and yet here I was unable to think about anyone other than this man who’d I’d met once. I met guys at the gym all the time and never had issues like this before. Why now? And why did Dominic want to talk with me? There was no way I made that good of an impression.

My computer alerted me to a new email. I opened it and found the forwarded email from Dominic. Everything Pastor Kline had told me was true. Dominic wanted to meet with me. I started a new email accepting the meeting, telling him to come to my office whenever it suited him best. Before I hit send, I looked at his email name and found “Hazard4U” on the screen. I guess we’ll see, I thought.


I've got a lot of the story written, though it's not done yet. Not sure where it will end, but there is plenty more to come. 

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Part 2: Will Accepts Dominic's Offer

Two days went by before I receive an email from Dominic. During that time, I’d almost forgotten about him and the dream. I’d swung by my office after a late-day workout session at the gym and found the email waiting for me.

“Hey, Pastor Ryder, thanks for emailing me back. I’m free to meet Friday after work if that works for you. I can be there around 4. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I feel like we had a good connection on Sunday. Email me back if Friday at 4 works. Thanks, Dom.”

As I read the email, I was suddenly aware of how sweaty I was. I sweat easily, and the hair on my chest and in my armpits always collected odor if I wasn’t careful. My roommate in college complained about my laundry smelling. I never took any notice. Now, however, I was suddenly very aware of my own stink. I lifted my arm and turned my head, smelling my armpit. It was a ripe smell. I started to lower my arm when, instead, I lifted it back up and moved my face closer, taking in a big whiff. Ripe had never smelled this good before. It made my head spin. Slowly, I stuck my tongue out and ran it along the sweaty-drenched hairs, tasting myself. It was salty and a bit bitter, but I liked it. It tasted strong, and I wanted more.

A knock on the door pulled me from my exploration, causing me to nearly jump out of my chair. I made sure I was collected before I said, “Come in.”

It was Pastor Kline. “Hey, Will. Just checking in. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Have you had anymore of those dreams?”

I shook my head.

“Good. You look like you’ve just run a marathon. You’ll want to light a candle in here.”

“I’ll do that.” I couldn’t tell, but, for a moment, I could have sworn I saw Pastor Kline inhale deep, a smile turning his mouth for a second. “Did you email that visitor?”

“I did. We’re meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s great news, Will. Well, I’m on my way home. My wife is making a meatloaf again. You’re free to join us if you want.”

“Thanks, Mark, but I’ve got leftovers I need to take care of tonight. Some other time.”

Pastor Kline left, leaving me to respond to the email. “Hey, Dominic. Friday works fine. Meet me at my office. Thanks, Pastor Will Ryder.”

I went home and showered, relishing the feeling of the warm water. As I soaped up, I made sure to clean thoroughly around my balls, cock, and butt crack. As I cleaned, reaching my butthole, I found my cock shooting to life, standing at attention. I jumped, surprised by this never-before-felt feeling. I tried again, finding my cock growing and my balls pulling up to my body. Forgetting the bar of soap, I reached my hand back and ran a finger along the hole. A tingling sensation ran throughout my body, making my knees weak. I moved my finger in little circles, falling against the wall as I struggled to breathe from the waves of pleasure. I pressed against my hole, moving in rhythm, my body nearly shaking from the sensation. I increased pressure, pushing harder, until my finger slipped and entered inside.

“Ah,” I gasped, removing my finger and wincing at the pain. I looked at my finger and found a small trace of blood near my nail. I must have cut myself. As the water ran down and mixed with the soap, I felt the stinging. There’s no way of putting a bandage down there, I thought, turning off the water once I was rinsed off. Even with the pain, I found my cock still hard. I considered jerking off but decided against it. I was too tired and had work to do. I was preaching Sunday and needed to be as prepared as possible.

I’d lost track of time by 4 on Friday. I was nearly finished with my sermon when a knock on the door pulled my attention. “Come in,” I said.

The door opened and Dominic stuck his head inside. “Pastor Ryder.”

“Dominic Moore,” I said, standing up and reaching out a hand. “Good to see you again.”

“You too,” he said, entering my office and shaking. “Please, just call me Dom. Everyone does.”

“Alright, Dom. Call me Will.”

“Will do, Will,” he said, smiling and taking a seat. He was wearing another black t-shirt, this time with a design on the chest of a skull with gems for eyes and the words “Dark Soul Tattoos” beneath.

“I’ve heard of that place,” I said, pointing at his shirt. “I’ve never gone.”

“I own the place,” he said.

“You’re a tattoo artist.”

“Nearly twenty years now,” he said. “Which I’m guessing isn’t too far off from your age.”

I smiled. “I’m twenty-nine,” I told him.

“Still young,” he said. For a brief moment, there was a look in his eyes which reminded me of the look I had seen in my dream. There was a ferocity, as if whatever was on his mind he wanted and was determined to get.

“So, tell me about yourself,” I said. “I know you’re a tattoo artist. What else? Are you married?”

“I’m not the married type,” he said. “I’ve had temporary partners, but none that last long. How about you? Are you married?”

“I’m not,” I told him, holding up my left hand and showing the lack of a wedding ring.

“I thought religious people were supposed to marry young so they could start fucking their brains out and popping out kids.”

“Oh,” I said, taken back by his language. “Many do marry young and start families soon after. For myself, I just haven’t found the right person yet.”

“I bet you’re close,” Dominic said. “Closer than you think.”

I nodded. “I like to think so. So, tell me more about yourself.”

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Life philosophy?"

Dominic laughed. “When I was younger, I tried to make good choices, but I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, destined to fall. After a while, I stopped trying. I found making bad choices felt more freeing. I liked living by my own rules, not worrying about my choices.”

“And what about now?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think something is bringing me here.”

I sat quietly, staring at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think you're meant to help me.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Of course. I don’t doubt that for a second.” My eyes searched his arms, taking note of his different tattoos. There was a skull covered in barbed wire on his left arm along with a scorpion and a date. “Are you a Scorpio?” I asked.

Dominic looked down at his left arm and smiled. “I am, funny enough.”

“That date though, isn’t that in May. May birthdates aren’t Scorpios.”

“No,” he said. “That date is for something else.

I looked over to his right arm where there were several tattoos I couldn’t make out, except for markings along the inside of his forearm. “Are those tally marks?”

He looked to his other arm and smiled, running his left hand along the tattoo. “They are.”

“What are they for?”

“That’s a bit complicated to explain,” he said. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

I tried counting them. “How many are there?”

“Almost fifty,” he said. “One away, actually.”

“Maybe you’ll get fifty soon.”

He smiled at me, the same ferocity from before filling his eyes. “Yeah. I think I will.”

Sunday came, and as everyone left the sanctuary, I saw Dominic still in his seat, Pastor Kline hovering over him. I felt a concern growing and quickly jumped in. “How is everyone doing?"

“Good,” Dominic said. “You’re a good speaker. Most times when I hear people speak, I get headaches after too long. That didn’t happen today.”

“Will is a special man,” Pastor Kline said. “I knew that from the first moment I met him. Well, I won't take anymore of your time. I'll talk to you soon.” He shook Dominic’s hand, holding on for several seconds before letting go.

Domonic waited until Pastor Kline was out of earshot to say, “Thanks for the save. He was getting a bit chummy.”

“He’s a friendly guy,” I told him. “He’s like a second father.”

Domonic raised a brow. “Interesting,” he said.

“What is?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Anyways, I wanted to thank you for speaking to me on Friday.”

“It’s no problem,” I told him. “That’s what we’re here for. Anytime you need to talk. Myself, Pastor Kline, or Pastor Matthews are at your disposal.”

“Good to know,” he said. “Look, I wanted to thank you for seeing me Friday. I hoped you’d take me up on coming over to my place for dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised by the offer.

“If you already have plans,” he said, “I’ll understand. I just wanted to talk some more. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have drinks and food. Do you like steak?”

“I do,” I said.

“So, what do you think?”

I glanced out at the lobby and saw Mrs. Peters eyeing me, Rachel standing behind her. I could tell that they weren’t happy to see me talking with someone who looked like Domonic. “That would be great. Thank you.”

“Awesome,” he said. “Here, put your number into my phone, and I’ll text you the address.”

I typed in my number and started to add my name when he stopped me. “Don’t worry. I’ll add that later. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you then,” I said, watching as he left the sanctuary. I was not the only one watching as he left, but I was sure I was the only one struggling to hide a boner.

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