The Saint is the Sinner
By Servemist
Chapter 6
Welcome friends. If you joined me for the journey from the beginning, thank you. If you are just coming to the party now, you will need to read the first five chapters, otherwise the story will not make sense. Go ahead and read, my friends and I will wait till your all caught up.
There is a short, but significant, part of this chapter that is non-consent. It is an important part of the story. I want to give you all a heads up.
I open our story during the fall of 2001, which was also the period of September 11,2001. I touch on this subject briefly. I do not mean to dismiss the significance this tragedy had on New York & our nation. The opening song quote was taken from Tori Amos’s critically acclaimed Scarlet’s Walk album, this Tori Amos tune is about a girl riding a plane who can’t seem to see New York from above because it has turned to a “hunting ground.” Though the song was written months before the attacks, Tori admitted that her composition became more poignant after the attacks.
If you enjoy this story, please rate it highly and leave a comment, if you do not like the story, please leave a comment and I promise I will do better in the next few chapters. I would like to thank my editor 1moeannie, who I am sure is shaking her head in wonder every time I send her something, wondering if she should put me out of my misery. I would also like to thank Wax Philosophic who provides positive support, and great feedback into my character development. Please take the time to search out both of their names on the Lit site and use both as a resource and inspiration.
Bill
Fall of 2001
“But I can’t see New York. as I’m, circling down, through white cloud, falling out”
I Can’t See New York — Tori Amos
I remember the exact moment of 9/11, more to the point where I was when the first tower was hit. I was sitting in my office, enjoying a cup of coffee, getting ready to report to finance regarding the new budget for a second large production line. I remember that I was worried that the estimations of the new line were a little high and that finance would reject the project and I would have to do all this work over again. I got a call from a senior manager in finance telling me the meeting was canceled. I remember that I was somewhat pissed. I’d been preparing this report for two months, it was driving me, and everyone close to me crazy. After telling me the meeting was canceled, he told me to come to the conference room upstairs right away. When I entered the conference room, the TV was on. It showed one WTC tower in flames from an apparent air attack. I remember looking at the TV, blinking a lot, not understanding what I saw, and how it didn’t make sense. After a good thirty minutes, I was finally able to sit down. I continued to watch that television for the next eight hours. I remember, crying that day, I remember crying in the arms of someone I think I met that day. I remember that suddenly, my project was not the most important thing in the world.
Bill
Winter of 2001
There is one thing that I will not miss if I ever leave the great Garden State, that would be the snow. It goes from pretty white flakes to ugly black and yellow slop in seconds. The exact moment snow starts falling, I become a screaming banshee. I go into crazy mode, running around my workplace completing tasks as quickly as possible so I can get on the road and head home before everyone else does. I stop at the store to get everything I need and get home as soon as possible.
It’s not that I can’t drive in the snow, it’s more the fact that my father once told me, “All drivers are idiots and when it snows, they’re bigger idiots.”
I took that and “the Steelers being the greatest football team ever” as gospel from my father. It’s not that I didn’t love my parents, it was a multiple phase relationship. When I was extremely young, I wanted to be glued to my father’s hip. When I was a teenager and had some inkling that I was, as my father would say “different”. I became glued to my mom’s hip.
My parents never really thought I was gay, it was more that I was a moody kid, who became a loner when I got older. I never really accepted that I was gay till I met Adam, and even then, I was too late to that party.
When I finally came out to my parents, it was quick, and it was over. Or at least I thought it was over. I remember a few days after I came out to my parents at my apartment, with Vivian standing in the middle of my living room my parents came over to my place. We went to the kitchen, my mom did what she always does when she’s nervous, she made us something to eat while Dad and I “talked”. The funny thing about that, is that she wouldn’t stop cooking until my father was done talking.
My father was a little different. He wouldn’t stop talking, he would stop in mid-sentence, go back to the beginning, and start over again, until I told him “I get your point.” If I didn’t say anything, he would go over and over the same thing all day and I would have a week’s worth of already made food in my fridge. They were great parents, as they have gotten older, they’ve shown more patience, like they had all the time in the world, and they just really wanted me to be happy and safe.
My father’s main concern was that our world was not very tolerant of gay men. That I would struggle, have a sign on my back, and constantly have to defend myself at every turn. He would say “Be gay, just be gay quietly.”
I had such a struggle realizing who I was, that I let someone very important to me die, and drove another far away. I wasn’t quite sure that being quiet was the right path for me.
While I was not the type who would march down main street with a sign saying, “I’m gay,” I also was not going to apologize or hide who I was.
At the end of my conversation with my parents, I had two things. One, a lot of food and two, we agreed that I would not hide who I was anymore. The time to be quiet was over.
I loved being at Michael’s place during the summer. I love the beach in general and if I was not with Michael, I would still go to the beach as much as possible. Waking up every morning during summer, walking out of the house totally naked to sit on a recliner on your own private beach, that was the best!
If there was one issue, it was Michael’s family. While they knew he was gay, for some reason, they always gave me the impression that I was just not good enough for him or the family.
Michael had a lot of business dealings, and always told me that “Our clients are not ready for a gay man to be a business partner.”
He would tell me “It’s hard enough for a black man from Jamaica to run a business, but to be black AND gay,” he would pause, “you’re not going to be successful in America.”
So, his family was not too happy when I was at his house during family functions. I was the reminder that he was gay and running the family business.
I was the queen that could push over the apple cart.
His oldest brother, Rashaan, would look at me and dismiss me at every turn. I didn’t matter to him, and he thought this was just a phase for Michael and sometime soon he would move on to something else. I was never sure what that the “something else” was? Michael was very gay and there was no changing that!
Towards the end of living with Vivian and Trixie, I’d spent so much time at Gunnison beach, I’d grown to love tanning in the nude. So, when Michael let me know that his beach was private, I rarely wore clothes while I was there. As Michael would put it, as he would massage one of my ass cheeks, “access, 24/7”.
Gunnison Beach is on federal land and managed by the National Park Services. It is also a clothing optional beach. If you take a long walk on the beach toward the ocean, hang a right, before you get to the fence you will find an area that is occupied with naked men with gorgeous cocks.
Now, I am a firm believer that it takes all kinds, even I am not everyone’s cup of tea. At Gunnison, you will find men with big cocks, little cocks, tall, short, big, and skinny. I really don’t have a physical type. For me, it has always been mental. How a man can seduce me mentally, is far more alluring than a big cock.
Lucky for me, Michael stimulated me mentally, had a great body, and my god, what a great cock! He never rushed sex. He enjoyed the games leading up to fucking. He was adventurous in bed, sex with him was always like working out, I was exhausted, but I felt so much better afterwards. I loved when fucked me. He never just “stuck it in”, he made sure I was well lubed, he took his time slowly pushing his cock into me. Touching my body throughout the process. His hands rubbed my back and stroked my neck. He would kiss me from behind. As we fucked and he was halfway there, I always pushed back at him. I loved how full I was with him, how the slow methodical strokes increased my need for him. I loved being taken from behind, how Michael would hold my hips with both hands and sensually thrust his cock into me.
When I took Michael into my mouth, feeling the pulse of his cock, it was almost like a heartbeat, as I swallow as much of his beautiful cock as possible. “You will have to tell me to stop, I will not be stopping of my own volition,” I reminded Michael every time.
There was no real reason to go to Gunnison. I had my own personal sandbox, and the man who’s bed I shared took very good care of me.
No complaints!
Peter
Spring of 2002
Being back in the states and back on the east coast was better than I thought. The decision was easier than I thought as well. At forty-four years old I finally realized I wanted to leave a footprint, something that someone after me would say “Peter Nelson, was there.” A legacy of a sort, I guess you could say. I accepted a position at a small up and coming publishing house and moved to the agency side of the business, which gave me an opportunity to create something from nothing.
The work was going to be hard, the cupboards would be bare, but then, it would be me filling them. The possibilities would be endless. Or I should say “they would start and end with me!”
It’s all about the boho West Village for me. I have an unconditional love for the quirky shops, the celebrity sightings, the brownstones and the great eateries that are spread around the neighborhood. When I saw an opportunity to buy an overpriced brownstone, I did exactly that. It took me a year and an expensive highly opinionated designer to turn a brownstone into my brownstone.
So, my roots are planted.
I had been thinking about how I was going to spend the rest of my life, and if I was going to find that special someone to spend it with. I hadn’t seen Bill since he left me in his backyard. I really didn’t even know where he lived or if he was with anyone.
He was often in my thoughts. Over the years, the vision of him in front of me, would come and go in my mind.
I wish I had a good excuse for why I hadn’t reached out to him, or why he hadn’t reached out to me. I would like to think that it was his fault more than mine. I’m pretty sure a guy like him doesn’t last long on the market. Some lucky guy had found himself a nice little bottom to love.
I just wondered.
Bill
Summer of 2002
“Turn out the light, just say goodnight. To yourself, May I remind you. When you find your all alone is when you. You’ve got to be strong”
Save Yourself – Sense Field
“Baby” Michael called to me from the main room. “Baby, can you come here!” It sounding urgent.
I put my cloths away for the weekend in a drawer that Michael has given me in his dresser. I walked into the main room wearing a pair of jean shorts and a white tee shirt.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Did you tell Vivian and Trixie; they are welcome here to our party for the weekend?” He had a rather disturbed look on his face.
I hesitated trying to figure out where this was going but said rather innocently “They always come to our parties,” and I added “They are the only two people that I talk too at these parties”.
Defensively, I add “Everyone else treats me like I have the plague!”
Michael seemed rather agitated “That is not true. My family has not done anything other then welcome you.”
I look at him like he has three heads. “Do you not hear any conversation between me and your family?”
I wait a second to provide an answer. “No!” then I continue, “The reason you do not hear any conversation between me and your family, is that they haven’t said one word to me since you and I met.”
Now it’s Michael’s turn to be agitated “That is not true!”
He is now standing in the middle of the main room “I have seen my own mother and father talk with you.”
Now I am smiling, knowing that is not true. “Hello and goodbye is not a conversation”
Michael knew his family wasn’t very receptive to me since we had been seeing each other. In the middle of August, this is one frosty room when his family is here.
Michael folded his arms over his chest “This is my house, and no one should be coming through those doors,” pointing to the front door, “unless I know about it before.”
I was just shocked by what was transpiring between us. Its almost an out of body experience. “Where is this coming from?” and I add “Where is Michael, because you are an imposter?”
Now his anger was showing, and he raised his voice “Fucking my house, you are a guest, you do not invite anyone to my house without me knowing first!”
Normally, I let a conversation like this go. I really would not let it bubble over. Michael and I had some issues in the past, but nothing that a few kisses and a “I’m sorry” wouldn’t fix. This was something else.
“Michael, Honey, where is this coming from?” being more responsive to his anger.
“You heard me!” yelling and walking away from me.
This had all the earmarks of his brother or father. Someone put a notion in his head, that I was creating a business issue and he’s mad because he is being pushed into making this decision. I walk after him. I found him in the bedroom. He was lying on his back on the bed. He had his right forearm across his eyes and forehead. I lay down next to him, lean in and lightly kiss his neck.
As I kissed his neck, I whispered “Baby, what is really going on?”
I continued kissing his neck, I lowered my hand caressing his cock, giving his it light squeezes, and found him already erect.
Michael doesn’t react just keeps his forearm over his eyes. He speaks softly “Maybe we need a break.”
I stop kissing his neck and removed my hand from his cock. I raise my head and looked in his direction.
“A break?” I asked raising my voice. I wasn’t letting this one slide.
“I invited my two best friends, who I have invited to your house,” I emphasize “your house.”
I continue, “So many times, I lost count.”
I got up from the bed, but Michael doesn’t move from his spot.
I speak in a low monotone voice “When you decide you want to really talk with me, and really tell me what is going on,” walking towards the bedroom door and turning around, “I will be at my place.”
I retrieved my gym bag, went the dresser and removed the clothes I just put in there, and put them in my bag. I walked back toward the bedroom door, turn around and see that Michael hasn’t moved. I walk out the door, I walked out of the house. I drove home in a fog.
I was trying to figure out, what I did wrong that could have triggered this. How this was my fault somehow? During that one-hour drive, I thought of about a thousand different scenarios.
The one scenario that kept coming back over and over, was that his family was never going to accept me. Maybe his family was never going to accept him. It really didn’t matter anymore. I drove home thinking that, this would be the last time I would ever see Michael, or step foot in that house.
Vivian
Fall of 2002
“Trip, would you get your ass out here, you are going to miss The Sopranos.”
This was our night, me, Trip, and Trixie watched the Sopranos every Sunday night. It would be beer, popcorn, and watching dancers at the Bada Bing Club.
Trip would always ask us if we missed the “good old days”, and both Trixie and I would laugh and say, “hell no”.
I would look at Trixie, give her a suggestive smile, “I only want one person grabbing my ass,” reaching for Trixie’s hand, intertwining her fingers with mine, “and she is right here.”
I raised Trixie’s hand and mine at the same time, bring her’s to my lips and kiss it. We both look into each other eyes and smile.
We can have a real shitty day, a real shitty week, or month, but she is able to set me on fire and I will never be able to get enough of her. I knew my place would always be by her side, she brought a calmness to me that I never thought I’d ever have.
Trip walked into our living room and plopped between us. Took a nice long drink of his beer, swallows and says, “I can’t believe Johnny almost bought it last week.”
His eyes were wide and a nice smile on his face, he says “I hate Johnny Sack.”
We were all in agreement. We watched our favorite show, after the show was over, we continued to give a play by play of every minute. That was our Sunday night.
Trip was different, where I thought he would be a mess after the breakup, he wasn’t. He was actually happy for a change. He didn’t see this as an obstacle he couldn’t get past. Maybe he just assumed it would happen and had accepted it long before.
Hard to say, but I was relieved that Trixie and I wouldn’t have to be on 24/7 watch.
I get up and go to the kitchen to get another beer for myself. I yell out to the others “Beer?”
Trixie, as usual “None for me, I’m getting fat.”
Trip is gets up from his spot and walks towards the front door to put on his jacket, “Nope, got a date.”
Trixie gives me the knowing look “You mean, you’re going to fuck him?”
I shake my head in agreement and adds “Where did you find this one?”
Trip squinted his eyes in a condescending way “For one thing, not everyone has sex all the time.”
Pointing a finger at both of us, “For the other thing, I met him on dudesnude.”
I gave Trip a disgusted look and shook my head back and forth. “Do you even have a picture?”
Trip said “Sure, fire up your fancy Apple.”
I walked over to the desk in the corner of our living room and turned on our MacOS X 10.2. Our computer guy gave us a recommendation and said, “Apple is the wave of the future”. So, we got it.
Trip walked over and typed in his website and searched for his date. A guy came up and he called himself “big Bob”.
I started laughing. “So, is Big Bob, big?”
Trip scrolled down to pictures and clicked on a picture of big Bob naked, and big Bob was in fact big, really big!
I could swear Trip was drooling. I mean he was looking at big Bob’s cock and could not look at anything else. I don’t think that even Trixie had a toy that big, and Trixie had a lot of toys.
Nudging Trip “Is it safe?” I asked.
Trip finally came out of his trance, looked at me. “Most of these guys are married, they cum and run.”
Trip was now looking back at the computer, “Just what I need after Michael.”
Trip gave us a kiss and started walking towards our front door. He stopped and turned back toward me and said sadly “It’s just what I need, no attachments.”
Then he walked out.
Bill
Fall of 2002
“I remember the warmth that flushed over me as I was about to close my eyes. I was ok with that.”
Big Bob — Bill/Trip
I always gave myself extra time before I would meet someone. I wanted to be clean inside and out. It was such a big deal to me to make sure I was properly ready for my one-hour date.
As I told Vivian, these guys were married. Which meant they were in denial, in the closet, or just not getting it at home. Which is what most of them said. They were usually gone in an hour with limited conversation. Once they came, they could not get their pants up fast enough, and I could never even think about asking them to suck me or jerk me off. They did not want anything to do with me after they busted their load.
That was really ok with me. After Michael and I broke up, I kind of didn’t want a serious relationship. I wanted safe sex, but nothing serious.
Guys would come over, I would drop to my knees and take them into my mouth, if I was lucky, they’d last long enough to fuck me for a minute or two, zip up and “Have a nice night.”
One thing for sure, Vivian was right. I had to be safe. I always heard horror stories about guys that were beat up, or robbed, or worse.
Once I was cleaned up, I put on a nice pink and black jockstrap, and a loose-fitting tee shirt, and I tied it in a knot in the back, so that is exposed my flat stomach. I didn’t comb my hair, just left it tousled. I made sure I had no body hair, and I added lotion to smell nice. I would be answering the door as a man who wanted sex.
Finally, a knock on the door. I didn’t want to seem over anxious, so I walked slowly to the door. I opened the door and leaned on the side of the door, holding onto the doorknob for support. I gave my “date” and hot come fuck me look.
Big Bob was exactly as advertised. He was well over six feet and must have tipped the scale close to three hundred pounds. He had a full head of hair, that was short and combed to the right. While he was three hundred or so pounds, he carried his weight very well.
He wore a nice pair of jeans and a golf shirt that was not tucked in. When he saw me at the door, I could tell right off the bat that he was really pleased with my appearance. He smiled while looking up and down my nearly naked body.
“Bob?” I said with a smile.
“Yup” he answered with a grin.
I held the door open “Come on in.”
I turned, I let him have a good long look at my ass. I figured, if I advertised, I might get a buyer?
I walked past my dinner table, and I turned around to ask, “Would you like a…”
Before I get the word drink out, he was standing right behind me.
He grabbed me by my arms, he was extremely strong. He rubbed up and down my arms then turned me to his side, facing my dinner table.
He kept one hand firmly on my arm, near my elbow and slid his other hand down to my ass. He squeezed my ass cheeks extremely hard, intentionally getting closer and closer to my hole.
He was breathing excitedly when he abruptly turned me back to face him. His face was flushed as he opened his mouth and I braced for what I was sure was an extremely wet tongue kiss. His mouth covered mine. He was still breathing hard. I could feel his tongue searching every area of the inside of my mouth. It was like I was the last man on earth, and he had to have me.
It was at that time; I noticed his breath smelled like beer. I never drink before I meet someone. I need to be aware of what is going on. Usually if a guy has a beer before sex, they’re nervous. Big Bob was not nervous, he was hungry, and he held me in the way that put me at his mercy.
“Get down there and suck my dick!” I heard big Bob say as he pushed me onto my knees.
I went to my knees, loosened his belt, unsnapped his pants, pulled down his zipper and exposed his cock. Big Bob’s cock was truly the highlight of the evening so far. It was 10 inches long, cut with a nice head. He smelled of Irish Spring, which is one of my favorite manly smells.
I usually like to control how I suck someone’s cock. I don’t like guys that think they can fuck my mouth like they fuck my ass. I prefer to take my time, enjoy the feeling of a cock in my mouth. Use my tongue up and down their shaft. Use my lips on the head of their cock. Get them as wet and hard as possible.
I haven’t used poppers since Michael and I split up, I prefer not too, since I have a way of losing control. With someone I know, I am ok with it. In this situation, I prefer not to.
“Fucking faggot” those two words, brought me back from my daydreaming and enjoying the taste of his cock, and the next thing I know. I feel Big Bob, place a hand on the top of my head and the other hand on the bottom of my jaw. He starts to drive his cock into my mouth faster and faster. With his speed, he is also driving his cock harder and deeper into my throat.
Normally, I can make adjustments. I learned being with Michael, that I can handle a large cock and breath out of my nose. Michael never fucked my mouth the way big Bob was right now.
I raised my hands to the front of his pelvic bones, trying to slow him down, so I could stop gagging and catch my breath.
This action pissed him off even more. “Get your fucking hands off me faggot!”
I immediately lower my hands to my side and allowed him to continue to assault my mouth. My only hope was that this guy would be done and gone in a few minutes.
He wasn’t having any of that, he was fucking my mouth fast and hard, and I was getting lightheaded from lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he stops. I’m thinking “Thank god!”
He pulls me up to face him. I look into his face, he has no expression, his eyes are dark, and he was still breathing hard, sweat was dripping down his forehead.
He turned me around and forced me to bend over my dinning room table. This is my moment to tell him we need a time out. So, I resist and make an attempt to stand and face him. I told him “How about we take a min…”
That was all I got out. He turned me around and forced me to bend over my dinning table. There was an empty glass fruit bowl on the dinning room table.
Then it happened.
He forcefully shoved me back down. I must have hit my forehead on the edge of the fruit bowl. I remember there was a white light and everything was an echo. My eyes were open, but everything was hazy. I remember, I felt his feet push my legs wide apart. My head was turned to the right, I had a white dinning table, I could see red running down the table. I felt him grab the sides of my hips with both of his hands. My head moved up and down my table as he fucked me and called me names. I couldn’t make out the names and I could only imagine that he is hurting me, although I can’t feel anything.
My weird thought was that I was never going to get the blood stains off this table.
I remember the warmth that flushed over me as I was about to close my eyes. I was ok with that.
I was comfortable, but with a sharp pain in my head. My eyes were still closed. I felt myself in a bed, lying on my back. I am trying to open my eyes; everything is in a fog. I can sense someone else was near me. I could feel a hand holding mine.
“You always have the best seat in the house,” I heard, and fell back into sleep.
End of Chapter 6