The Saint is the Sinner

The Saint is the Sinner Chapter 3

By Servemist

For all those that made the journey from the first two chapters. I thank you. For those that have not yet read the first two chapters, we’ll have to discuss that. Go ahead and read them. I’ll sit on the deck facing the ocean and wait. Thanks for the positive feedback from all the readers of the first two chapters. Your feedback gave me a lot of insight on improving. As usual, I owe any resemblance as a competent writer to my editor 1moeannie. I would also like to thank Wax Philosophic, who read my story in advance, and provided me with a better understanding of character development.

Bill

Spring of 1993

 

“I know you want what’s on my mind, I know you like what’s on my mind, I know it eats you up inside, I know, you know, you know, you know”

 

 

Sex Type Thing — Stone Temple Pilots

 

“Excuse me,” As I turned around to see an older man. If I had to guess, I say he was about 35. He was dressed in a purple golf shirt, nice pair of jeans, and black shoes. I noticed right away; he filled that golf shirt really well.

Those jeans looked so nice on him, in all the right places. He had to know I was looking him over and over. He started to grin at me! It was spring, and yet he was tan already. Nice chiseled face with just the right amount of stubble. His eyes were clear and adventurous.

With a smile “Best seat in the house,” pointing to the chair that I now stood next to.

*Ok, this is where you say something incredibly witty. *

I actually stood there for a minute like I was rooted into the ground, “Excuuuuse me.”

*Oh yeah, I’m witty*

“I’m sorry, did I bother you?” A confused look on my visitor’s face.

Shaking my head to snap out of it “No, no, you’re good.”

He walked toward me with his right hand out “I’m Peter Nelson, I’m here as a friend of a friend.”

He gave me a great smile, suddenly with a mind of its own, my cock twitches.

*What the fuck is going on? *

“Bill” I said shaking his hand.

Peter continues to smile “The roommate?”

All of a sudden, we stop shaking hands, however, we don’t let go. We just look into each other’s eyes. As if on cue, we both give each other a big grin, feeling awkward, and turning red from embarrassment, at the same time we let go of each other’s hand.

“Yes, that’s me.” I affirmed.

“Where does Trip come into play?” Peter asked.

“Trip, is short for Tripper, as in Jack Tripper, from Three’s Company,” My quick condensed version, I wanted to move onto more witty conversation.

“I get it.” Peter started laughing with approval.

“Yup”

*Yeah, real witty! *

The conversation was in danger of lagging, Peter interjected, “Sorry, did you want to be alone?”

Tripping over my tongue, trying not to lose him I responded, “No, not at all.”

Peter smiling again. “Good, it would have been embarrassing to turn around and walk back inside with my tail between my legs.”

*I like what’s between his legs! *

*Fuck, shut up! *

*Be suave*

My turn to be coy. “Oh, you came out here with an agenda?”

Peter smiled again at me, and I could feel the tip of my ears turning red.

“It was your speech earlier, it was genuine.” Peter said.

“It’s rare that a person can speak so fondly from the heart in a room full of strangers.” He commended.

Peter stepped closer to me, now he’s less than an arm’s length away. He looked into my eyes again, like he was trying to figure out if I was receptive to him approaching me.

I answered his question, by stepping closer to him. For what seemed like hours, it was minutes, he moved closer and placed his right hand behind my head, bringing my head closer to him, I closed my eyes, and finally our lips touched.

His lips were strong, they started to cover my mouth. His mouth was hot and moist. It was like he was taking charge and I wanted him to do so. I felt his tongue slide into my mouth, I let out a moan. I opened my mouth wider to let him know I wanted more, I wanted him. Our tongues danced with one another, then I felt his other hand slide down my back, firmly grab my ass, and squeeze.

As quickly has it occurred, he stopped kissing me. My head still tilted to the side, even though he let go of the back of my head and my ass. I opened my eyes, to see him smiling at me.

*God, I feel like I have been waiting forever for this moment! *

“Trip” he said in a whisper.

I wanted this man, right here and right now. It had been so long since I wanted someone so much. I looked at him “Bill, please call me Bill.”

My mouth was dry, but I wasn’t thirsty, my head was spinning, but I wasn’t drunk.

“Bill,” I really would like to get to know you.” He said softly, pushing hair away from my eyes.

“But I’m the right guy, at the wrong time!” He said.

All of a sudden, it seemed like someone took a bucket of cold water, and dumped it over my head. “Wait, what?”

“Bill, I am leaving tonight.” He said loud enough that whatever fog that was still in my head, was definitely cleared up.

“I have an assignment in London for a year at my company’s publishing house, I have an option for another year, if all goes well.”

All during this time, I feel his right hand rub up and down my left arm.

*What the fuck! *

Finally, I am clear headed enough to flinch away from his hand. I take a step or two away from him. I reach up with my right hand to touch my lips, like a kiss that was just betrayed. My eyes tear up, not from sadness, but from anger.

“W-why come out here?” I stammered.

“I told you” Peter now understanding I was getting angry “I wanted to compliment you on your speech.” He said defensively.

I started laughing, theatrically throwing my hands in the air, “How about a thumbs up, or an Atta-boy!” Now I am speaking loudly, “Not shove your tongue down my throat!”

“Bill, I’m so sorry,” he was trying to sooth me by reaching out to rub my arms.

“Trip,” Stepping further away, no longer looking him in the eye. “A friend of a friend, calls me Trip!”

Peter looked at me guiltily, using his right hand to rub his forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t count on this.” He pleaded while stepping closer to me as I backed away.

“Didn’t count on what?” Now I was pissed. “Didn’t count on shoving your tongue down my throat or grabbing my ass?”

I just walked back into the house, leaving him alone in the yard. I didn’t say a word to anyone for the rest of the night. I just took it as if life was not done punching me in the stomach.

Peter

Spring of 1993

 

“And the wise man said I don’t want to hear your voice. And the thin man said I don’t want to hear your voice. And they’re cursing me, and they won’t let me be. And there’s nothing to say, and there’s nothing to do”

 

 

Stop Whispering — Radiohead

 

Whispering to myself, “Didn’t count on this connection.”

All my life I have lived in grey areas. Giving myself options, I didn’t sense that Bill was going to give me an option. For him, my gut feeling was that he either wanted or didn’t want.

I kept thinking about that old something saying “get off the pot”. If I wanted something to happen with Bill, it was going to happen tonight, but it was also going to happen again tomorrow and the next day. He had the word relationship written all over that cute face.

Not sure if that would be a bad thing!

*I just fucked up! *

I stood there outside, by myself, for what seemed like hours, wondering how I can fix this? That is what I do. I fix things, I fix broken writers, I fix broken people, I fix things! Slowly I walk towards the backyard door, go inside, I see a few guys I came here with. Remembering, I am a friend of a friend.

I am looking all over for Bill… Dam Trip! I don’t know any of the people throwing the party, except for the one guy I just pissed off. I am a friend of a friend! He doesn’t want to see me, even if I broke down every door, he still would not see me. I’m not fixing this.

Feeling at a loss, and finally coming to terms that I fucked this up, I found one of my friends and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a cab, take off.” I looked obviously distraught. “I got an early flight in the morning, and I am kind of spent.”

I could have spent the whole night with Bill slash Trip, and still would not have been tired tomorrow. I can still taste that kiss! He melted into my arms, like he wanted me to absorb him, own him.

My friend Jim, noticing my face. “Hey man, all good?”

I didn’t want to talk about what happened with Bill so I said. “Yeah, long day today, long day tomorrow.”

Jim gave me a warm hug, and a light kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Safe travels, and call me when you get there”

“See you soon,” I said, and walked out the front door.

Bill

Winter of 1996

 

“But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here”

 

 

Creep — Radiohead

 

I moved out of the condo about a year ago, I am no longer Trip, and we are no longer “Three’s Company”. Vivian and Trixie couldn’t figure it out. I never gave them a reasonable explanation. Just told them I was moving out at the end of the month and that I would pay them six months’ rent.

I knew I was the asshole. It just broke my heart thinking that it would be Vivian’s project to fix me. I didn’t want her life to be spent fixing me. I felt nothing, and I wanted to feel something. Even when that something was not what I really wanted. The things that I was doing now, just washed over me.

The guilt reminded about running away from Adam. Having that kiss with Peter, then running away. Not having the guts to do anything, I just thought, “Let anything have me”.

At least I could always say, “I didn’t plan on this, it just happened.”

I found an apartment not far from where my parents lived in Edison. It reminded me so much of the apartment I lived in when I met Adam. A large complex, with one and two bedroom apartments. I took a two bedroom simply because I wanted one room to be an office for work.

I left Vivian and Trixie in tears and didn’t return their calls; it was for the best. It was a clean break. I hoped they would get pissed and just not call anymore. I’m not right about most things, but I was right about that. They stopped calling, and after I moved out, I never went back to the bar.

“Hey, how you doing?” The large man with thinning hair, and a rather large stomach. He sees me entering his adult bookstore, gives me a smile, he has seen me here many times. I have become one of his regulars. Truth be told, I have been with him once or twice in the past. Every time I see him, he provides a knowing smile, that he can have me if he wants.

*I have no standards! *

I’ve been coming here a few nights a week. It has become part of my week. Sleep, work, eat, adult bookstore. I drove by this place so many times, without even a thought. Then one night after work, after that shithead Peter Nelson fucked with my head, I pulled into the parking lot, walked in, went to the private rooms in the back, and let men do whatever they wanted. I didn’t even think, didn’t have too. Men just came and decided for me. You would be surprised about the men who come to adult bookstores. If I had to venture a guess, I would say that most are married, most say they’re straight, and most say that “it’s not gay”, then stick their dick in my mouth or ass.

I never asked their names, never really say much. Don’t really care how their day is going. There is no intimacy, it’s less than sex, if there is such a thing.

*This is my life. *

“Let me have a small bottle of Rush.” I hand him ten dollars, and another ten to enter the private rooms. I fell in love with poppers, the very first time I used them, during the first night I came here.

I remember the first time I used a private booth, I stood inside the four by four booth and assessed. No lights and a sticky floor. It seemed I must have had a sign on my head that said “brand new,” because within two minutes, this rather old guy in baggy sweats and sporting an obvious hard on, pushed me further into the booth, he stuck a small trash can at the entrance to the booth. I found out later it meant that no one else should enter.

It was so dark in the booths, you really never see what people looked like, and I actually never really cared what they looked like.

He slid his hand down the front of my pants, rubbing my cock. He pulled down his sweats to reveal a huge cut cock with a mushroom head, which was so hard.

Impatiently, he opens my jeans and pulls them down along with my underwear. I never considered the importance of underwear or wearing a jockstrap, but going forward, the thought of a jockstrap was a turn on.

I never liked body hair, and truth be told, I never really had a lot. My chest was always bare, and my legs had a minimal amount of hair. I liked the smoothness of not having hair on my body.

It made me feel submissive. In this case, it made me feel like a slut! I always made sure before during masturbating in the shower, I shaved everywhere.

He lets out an “Ummmmmm” as he strokes my throbbing cock, then he moves his hand around my shaft and testicles to find me totally shaven, he groans, “Daddy likes” then starts jerking me off slowly.

My new friend, stops, opens a small brown bottle and brings it to his left nostril, sniffs deeply, and repeats this for his right nostril. He hands me the bottle and I inhale just like he did.

I close my eyes, my whole body feels hot, it was a strange feeling, I was so aroused instantly. My “date,” must have seen the change in my condition, he simply put one hand on each of my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. I let him.

There I was, with my pants and underwear down around my ankles, on my knees, with his cock inches from my mouth.

I hear him inhaling again and he hands me the bottle again. I repeat the same steps and my body gets even warmer.

I reach for his cock, then bring it into my mouth, surrounding it with my lips I begin my first blowjob. As the poppers work through me all I know is that I want to feel that cock in my mouth, his shaft on my tongue. I let him pump his cock into my mouth. Surprisingly, I take all his cock. I moan with each pump into my mouth.

I hear him moan, and he says to me “You’re a good cocksucker, aren’t you?”

I just let out a moan, assuming that he’ll understand that I agree, yes, I am a good cocksucker.

After about five minutes he stops pumping into my mouth and stands me up, we both repeat my new popper ritual, only this time, I inhale longer and deeper. My eyes are closed and I no longer have any control over my body.

My inhibitions have fled. He turns me to the side; I feel his hands caressing my ass. Taking his time, stroking both cheeks, exploring every inch. I feel my cock get even harder.

Another hit of poppers, then he inserts two fingers into his mouth, then takes those fingers and I feel him probe my anal area.

Another hit of poppers, and I bend forward slightly to give him better access to my ass.

Another hit of poppers, I feel his wet fingers enter my soon to be greedy ass. I let out a moan and he starts pumping my ass with his fingers.

Every time he pushes his fingers into me, I push back. I am panting, my eyes are closed, and I am trying to get as much of his fingers into me as possible.

Another hit of poppers and he slides his fingers out then turns me toward the opening of the booth. He bends me over; my head is actually outside the booth entrance. I feel his cock entering my ass.

Until this very moment, other than make out sessions, I hadn’t had sex with a man. I’d never given a blow job, and I definitely never let a man fuck me.

Within a matter of minutes, I was doing everything I’d never done before and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I didn’t want to stop it.

He slowly pushed the tip of his cock past my sphincter. I held my breath at first, waiting for something to happen, then all of a sudden, he pushed even further, he was half way in my ass. Another hit of poppers and he thrust completely into me.

I felt like I do every Thanksgiving, I felt so full. Like there was no room for dessert. The only problem, there is always room for dessert. I guess now, there is always room for more cock!

Once he started fucking me, there was nothing intimate about what he did. There was no affection, or even a thought for my comfort or wellbeing. He starting fucking me as hard as he could.

It never occurred to me, to tell him this was my first time. I felt his balls hit my ass, each time he drove his cock into me. When I thought he was going to stop, he just gave me another hit of poppers and I just stayed bent over, allowing him to fuck me as hard as he liked.

I heard myself moaning, I felt myself trying to bend over more and more, allowing him deeper access to my ass. I opened my eyes and saw four or five men with their cocks out, jerking off watching me getting fucked. Leering at me, like I was a piece of meat.

A man stepped forward and pushed his cock into my mouth. As my “date” pushed me forward, I engulfed my new “dates” cock. I guess the trash can thing doesn’t always mean “No entrance!” It was comical, how with the back and forth motion, I was being spit roasted by two strangers.

Now I was truly getting what I deserved. I pushed back onto my first date’s cock as hard as I could. Going back and forth, I allowed my other date to push his cock down my throat as far as I could take him.

I finally heard from the man who was fucking my ass, he moaned louder and louder than all of a sudden, with one last thrust and a tight grip on my hips, I felt him cumming inside me.

The man fucking my mouth held my head tightly, then I got a shot of cum hitting the back of my throat, then another shot, then another shot, he held my head and fucked my mouth slowly.

I had no choice but to swallow all of his cum. Eventually both men pulled out of me. I was able to stand up, still had my pants and underwear around my ankles. Neither of them looked me in the eye. They both just zipped up and walked away. There at the entrance to my booth, without a shred of modesty, I turned, bent over, and gave everyone a view of my wet ass.

I pulled up my underwear and pants, I zipped up, tucked in my shirt, and walked to the bookstore exit. I thought as I was walking to my car. “I truly got what I deserved.”

“Let me have a small bottle of Rush” My weekly request to my new best friend.

Spring of 1996

Vivian

 

“Who will save your souls when it comes to the flower? Who, who will save your souls after those lies that you told, boy? And who will save your souls if you won’t save your own?”

 

 

Who will save your soul — Jewel

 

I’m staring at the ceiling. I look over at Trixie sleeping nude on her side. Sleeping on her left hand, while her right hand caresses my stomach. For such a strong dominant woman, she always needs to know I am near her. I love that about her, that she needs me as much as I need her.

For as long as we have been together, I can count on one hand the number of arguments we’ve had. She is the first person in my life who always seems be on the same page as me. We were the missing pieces to each other’s puzzle. We just make sense better together than apart.

I hated how Trip just left us. I hated the yelling we did in the condo, between the three of us. I hated how Trixie just got fed up and told him “Just go”.

I didn’t want Trip to go, I loved him. Other than Trixie, he was my closest friend. When he told us, he wanted to move out, and didn’t even offer to tell us why, he should have known that Trixie was going to keep on him till she had the real reason.