Page 28 of Gay for Pray
God, yes. I’ve never been so sure of wanting something in my entire life. I keep plunging down him as though he didn’t speak, bobbing my whole head, taking him to the back of my throat. He cries out, hand curling so hard I fear he might take a chunk of hair with him. Then he shoots down my throat, hot, bright bursts of cum going straight to my gut while Theodore trembles and moans above me.
He starts sliding down the wall, and I have to pull off to let him crumble. He’s panting, eyes bright and wild. They go right to my obvious hardness, but then Theodore swallows.
“I…I don’t know how to do that,” he says. “I’ve never…”
“Won’t be a problem.”
I don’t have time to waste. I undo my jeans myself, straddling him as I fish my cock out. I take his hand and put it on my cock. He startles, but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he thumbs along me without me even having to ask, watching me with a strange sort of fascination.
I would love to let him explore, but this has gotten me so worked up I can’t wait for him to figure out handies. I set myhand over his, moving both of us at the same time, stroking myself through him. His big, clumsy hand is heaven itself. After a few pumps, I leave him to do it on his own, planting my hands on the wall behind him and using the leverage to fuck myself into his fist. Theodore never looks away from my cock, as though it’s that Bible he’s always reading on his phone. This is going to be a very different sacrament than the ones he’s used to, however. I’ve been on the edge since the second he kissed me in my room yesterday, and I’m embarrassingly ready to blow even from this little bit of attention.
“Catch it in your fist,” I rasp.
It’s all the time I have for a warming. His tight, warm grasp pushes me over the edge, and I groan and arch as sweet, aching relief pounds through me. Theodore does manage to catch it, which is a good thing because I couldn’t have done anything to stop it if he hadn’t, and I moan and tremble my way through the best orgasm-via-handy I’ve had in my life.
When it passes, I collapse into his lap, falling heavily against him and panting on his shoulder. He doesn’t move me, just sets his clean hand gently around me. The shock of the tenderness nearly jolts me out of my warm, comfortable, satiated stupor.
Then a far worse sound does the job.
We both stiffen as the door to the music room opens. Thankfully, the lights in the closet are off, and with us on the floor, no one could possibly see us. I shoot a terrified look at Theodore, whose eyes have gone as wide as saucers. He’s holding my cum in his hand, both our pants undone, as a voice we recognize speaks.
Chapter Sixteen
Theodore
THE ONLY THING THAT could make this experience more surreal is the sound of the choir director’s voice. He starts talking he moment he enters the room, muffled at first but clearer as the practice room door closes behind him.
“We’ll work this into the next practice,” he says. “I think they can handle it.”
“Will it be a problem to change things up with the concert coming up?”
“No more of a problem than it was when three of my boys decided not to show up on Sunday morning.”
Mr. Jones heaves a sigh, a sigh meant for me, I’m sure. I shoot a look at Jude, who climbs quietly off my lap. He fishes around his backpack and offers me a tissue for my hand, and I guess for my dick as well. I clean myself up as stealthily as possible, hardly daring to breathe as Mr. Jones talks about some kind of new song he wants us to perform. Jude and I right our clothing, so that if the director bursts in here, it might almost look like we were doing something other than messing around.
Which means that, holy shit, I just messed around with Jude.
I don’t get time to process that mind-melting fact. Mr. Jones goes on speaking, and this time both of us freeze at his words.
“It isn’t like him to miss Mass, especially as part of the choir,” Mr. Jones says. “He hasn’t reached out to say he was sick. I just don’t understand. Theodore is an exemplary student. I know heplans to go to seminary school after his time here. This is so unlike him.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. All the warmth and relaxation that hit me thanks to Jude’s incredible mouth evaporates like dew in the sun. It’s like my first sexual experience never even happened, and that strikes me as kind of sad. What happened here was something I don’t have words for yet, but I don’t get to process it as whoever is with Mr. Jones speaks.
“Well, he’s been hanging out with that boy lately,” the person says. It must be a professor, but I don’t recognize them. “You know, that one…rather flamboyant student. Jude something?”
“Jude Vaughan,” Mr. Jones says. “Yes, he’s in the choir as well, but I didn’t think they got along.”
“They don’t, as far as I know, but apparently they’ve been spending time together. I’m telling you, that boy is a bad influence. He shouldn’t have been admitted to this university in the first place. We have a code of conduct for a reason.” The person lowers their voice. “He’s sinful.”
Jude tenses beside me. I want to reach out, to reassure him, to say or do something, but I sit there frozen on the floor of the supply closet.
“He…certainly does not seem committed to his faith,” Mr. Jones says diplomatically.
The other person scoffs. “No, I wouldn’t expect a sinner like that to have much in the way of faith.”
Thankfully, Mr. Jones steers the conversation away from Jude, though the damage is already done. Jude doesn’t even look scared anymore as two of our teachers talk right on the other side of the closet door. He’s staring at the floor, his face terrifyingly blank.
I don’t move until I hear the teachers leave at last, the door clicking shut behind them. Only then do I finally reach out forJude, gingerly grasping his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. After what we just did, it’s a weirdly detached, impersonal gesture, but I have on idea what I’m doing. How do you comfort someone who is also your first sexual experienceright afterthat sexual experience?
