This story contains graphic descriptions of gay adult male to male sex, and irreverent religious comments. If you are offended by this topic, or it is illegal for you to read this material, please leave this site.
Finding Love at the Church Men's Coffee Group
The rest of the guys had finished their coffee, most of them now headed off to work, as our weekly men's group meeting from church was winding up. We met every Wednesday morning, and Steve and I soon gravitated to each other, sharing stories of our work week, our families, our journey of faith in God.
As a gay man, a church men's group was a bit out of my comfort zone, what with the fear and hatred I felt from most faith-based groups in this country and so much of the "macho man" viewpoint. I'd had my fill of the purpose driven life crowd and the homophobic rants of right wing talk radio. Still, I was feeling more at home in this church, and I admired a lot of the men who were in the group.
The minister usually had a topic for us to discuss, occasionally giving us a handout with an inspiring quote or a passage from Scripture. He'd started the coffee shop meeting, as the men in the church were pretty standoffish during the social time on Sundays, and we tended to merely chitchat about work and fishing and the "game last night", whatever that sport might be.
I started going to the church about a year ago, after my partner left me, and I was feeling wounded, sorry for myself. My counselor suggested I make a connection with my spirituality, and make friends with other men who shared my spiritual views. Several people at work were members of the church, and I soon felt at home there, enjoying the minister's tolerant view of the world and sexuality. I recognized several other gay people in the congregation, and I felt I had finally found some acceptance in this small town.
The last few weeks, we had gotten into some serious discussions about manliness and how the Bible looked at how men should really be. Some of his handouts stirred us up into heated discussions on being macho, and the rulers of our homes. We were starting to realize that God didn't want us to be the strong, silent types, the tyrants of our families, but rather live life with sensitivity, compassion, and as leaders by example.
Steve was fired up about the topic, telling me how he had been doing some serious thinking above how he lived his life, realizing he was unhappy living in his rut, and wanting to venture out, trying new things, and wanting to grow in his own spirituality and sexual expression.
"I've decided to venture out, to try new things, to really act the way I am inside," Steve said, excitedly waving his hands as his eyes lit up with his new direction in life.
I'd grown to like Steve, a rugged, handsome carpenter, with a neatly trimmed beard running along his jaw line and around his mouth. He'd started the beard a month ago, telling me he'd wanted a change in his life, and feeling he wanted to be different. He'd asked me about my beard, and how it felt, and how people reacted to my furry face. I'd had my beard for about twenty years, and I told him it was simply a part of me, and I couldn't understand people who would judge me by my hair or whether or not I ran a razor blade over my face in the morning.
I needed to head off to work myself, and I politely cut Steve off, inviting him over for dinner that night, so we could continue our discussion. I knew Steve lived alone, but he hadn't told me much about his personal life in all the times we had sat together in the coffee group. He was excited about having dinner, and told me he'd bring a bottle of wine and dessert. We hugged, and I could smell his clean, manly scent, with a hint of soap and fresh sawdust, his strong arm firm against my back.
The rest of the day at work, I kept thinking about Steve, his rugged looks, his strong, muscular build, how his shoulders filled his dress shirt and sports coat at church, his insightful and deeply thought comments during our discussions. I liked how he looked in his work clothes, too, the Carhartt overalls hugging his butt and lean belly, his hacked off sleeveless T shirt showing off his bulging shoulders and furry pits.
During the morning sales meeting, my mind wandered back to an image of Steve sitting on my couch, his bare arms and furry chest directly in front of me. My cock stirred a bit in my wool suit pants, dreaming of having a lover again, a man I could hug in the night, feeling his hairy chest on my beard, as we slept. The rest of the meeting was just a steamy blur, as I kept thinking of the warmth and feel of his bare skin.
It was all a fantasy, I thought. I had no hint that Steve was gay, let alone wanting to sleep with me. He was just a nice guy from the men's group at church, wanting to talk about his ideas from our Bible readings. Still, I'd been alone for a year now, and I'd wanted to start dating again. Living alone was not really for me. I needed to do something about my love life, though. I couldn't keep having these vivid sexual fantasies during the sales meetings, or I'd shoot a load all over the conference room table during someone's power point presentation. Well, I chuckled to myself, it would be the talk of the office.
I slipped away from work a bit early, stopping at the store to pick up a small roast, vegetables and some fresh salad fixings, and popped the roast in. Nervously, I straightened up the house, and even took a shower.
"I must be thinking I'm on a date or something," I laughed at myself. And, I reminded myself that this was dinner with a member of my men's group at church, and not some stud I'd picked up in a bar.
When Steve arrived, I opened the wine and poured ourselves a glass.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time for a shower, before I came over. My boss had us work late, finishing up a project, and I didn't want to be late," Steve said, as he ran his fingers through his curly black hair, knocking out a few bits of sawdust. There were a few bits of sawdust stuck in his beard, but they looked attractive to me, so I didn't mention that to Steve, as I watched him sip his wine and begin our conversation again from this morning.
We talked for over an hour, as the smell of the roast filled the house, Steve talking animatedly about his new revelations about how Christian men need to be open to themselves, and their bodies, and to realize that whatever we are inside, and whatever we do, we are children of God.
"Finally, I now understand that being horny and having sex fantasies is simply part of being loved by God," he said. "For all of my life, people have been telling me that these feelings and thoughts are sinful, and tools of the Devil. I'm finally finding peace with all of that. I am accepting my horniness, and my fantasies."
Steve asked me about my fantasies and how I dealt with lust. I nearly choked on my wine. During his discussion about lust and sin, my cock was twitching over the idea of leaning over to Steve and ripping off his work stained shirt, nibbling on his massive shoulders, and slurping on his hot nipples, rubbing my moustache all over his furry chest. But, I didn't want to lead off on my reply to his question on that note.
"Well, I don't try to ignore them, but l listen to what my thoughts are telling me that I need in my life. Right now, I'm pretty horny. My partner left me a year ago, and I haven't been laid since then. Yeah, I get pretty lonely," I replied.
"I don't go out of my way to share this with many people, Steve, but I'm attracted to men. I always have been," I said, "I'm gay, and I'm proud of that now. But, it's still hard for me to share that with people. I only share that part of me with people I can trust."
Steve looked back at me, and smiled, "I thought you were, and I think that's beautiful. You seem so content with who you are, Terry. And, I think that's what I like about you, your self confidence."
"I certainly don't have that, with myself. I'm at the proverbial fork in the road, and I'm not sure where I'm going," Steve said. "I think that's why I'm attracted to you, Terry. You're a solid man, and you're comfortable in your own skin."
The buzzer on the oven rang, thank God, as I was real close to acting on my fantasies with this hairy, strong carpenter, the two glasses of wine in my empty belly in charge of my impulse control. We moved the party into the kitchen, as Steve tossed the salad, and I sliced the roast, and put our dinner on the table. Steve opened another bottle of wine, and we quickly dived into our dinner, demolishing the roast and salad, and leaving only a few pieces of the sourdough loaf.
After the dishes were in the sink, we moved back to the couch, and I lit a fire. Steve had brought the rest of the wine in, and refreshed our glasses.
I asked Steve how his love life was, and he grew silent, for the first time that night, and stared into the fire.
"Not good, my friend," Steve replied, still looking into the fire. "I'm single, and have been my whole life. I've tried the dating scene, but, ... well, I'm not sure I really am attracted to women."
He told me of several attempts at dating, and how he'd never followed through with them, and never wanted to get a woman in bed. He'd always faked the sex talks with his macho friends or with his fellow workers over lunch.
"Now, I am starting to realize who I really am inside, and I'm finally OK with that," Steve said, a tear rolling down his cheek and into his beard.
"Who are you, Steve?" I asked, feeling his need to move the conversation to a deeper level. "Who do you now realize you really are?"
Steve paused to sip his wine, and looked again into the fire, another tear rolling into his beard.
"If you don't want to be with a woman, I'm assuming you want to be with a man," I said. "Is that what you want, Steve?"
He looked at me, and nodded. "Yes, Terry. Yes. I can finally put my feelings into that word, 'yes'." He began to sob, his face now buried in his hands. His bare shoulders shook and his breath came in gasps, as the tears streamed down his face.
I moved over next to Steve, wrapping my arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight next to me. He moved his head onto my shoulder, and continued to cry, as I held him tight, feeling his wetness soak into my shirt, as I watched the fire burn.
Steve began to pray out loud, talking to God to comfort him and ease his loneliness, and to help him understand his lusts, his needs. I joined him in prayer, asking God for forgiveness and comfort, and for the time and understanding that Steve needs during this time of crisis and need.
My carpenter hugged me tight, as we concluded the prayer, and I wiped away his tears with my fingers, and gave him another hug.
"You are so understanding, Terry. I couldn't ask for a better friend than you," Steve said.
He got up to pee, and blow his nose, and came out, zipping up his overalls, and announced that its time for dessert. I made coffee, and we sliced up Steve's cherry cheesecake, and attacked the sweet creamy delight, wiping our moustaches after nearly licking the plates clean.
Sipping our coffee, Steve began to ask me questions about how men make love, and what a lover can do with another man. I started to explain some of the mechanics, but then explained that real lovemaking is based on trust and confidence and being attentive to the needs and desires of your lover.
"It's not really a mechanical act, Steve. It's being spiritually connected, being aware of what your lover needs, it's an act of listening to your lover's heart," I said.
Steve looked at me, and whispered, "I'd like you to share that with me now, Terry. Right here and now. Please. Make love to me."
He moved over to me, and took my coffee mug out of my hand, setting it on the table, and ran his fingers through my beard, touching my lips. He pulled my head close to him, and gently kissed me, our moustaches rubbing, our beards brushing against each other, as I tasted his soft, tender lips.
I ran my hand over his bare shoulders and down his strong chest, still clad in his work shirt and overalls, and down to his crotch, feeling his growing cock underneath the stiff cotton twill of his work clothes. His spicy male scent rose from furry, exposed armpits, a mixture of his natural smell, a day pounding nails and sawing wood, and his newly fired up lust, with a hint of wine.
"The classroom is this way, Steve. I hope you will like my teaching style. It's hands on," I said, as I pulled him off the couch and into the sanctuary of my bedroom.
I lit a few candles, and stripped the comforter off of the king sized bed, and began to slowly undo the straps of his overalls, until his work shirt was free. I kissed him on his bearded lips, and ran my hand down his shirt to the still-covered stiffness of his cock. I felt its heat in my hand, as it twitched. Then, I rubbed my fingers over his large ball sack, increasing his need to be free of his clothes, and freeing me to nuzzle and suck on his manhood with my eager mouth and whiskery face, wanting communion with his cock.
Slowly, I unbuttoned his work shirt, until his bare chest filled my eyes, his curly black hair soft to my touch, little bits of the day's sawdust caught in the curls and swirls across his muscled pecs. I ran my fingers through this unexplored forest, fondling his nipples, and reaching into his damp armpits, finding the crevices of his sensitive pits, next to his firm, hard biceps and shoulders. I pulled his sleeveless T-shirt up over his head, taking another whiff of his rich, ripening pits, until he was half naked, his overalls bunched around his waist.
Tugging at the rough cloth, I pulled his overalls down over his butt and the stiff point of his big cock, still hidden by his briefs, a damp spot marking the dripping tip of his manhood. His thick body hair cascaded down from his chest, across his deep, ridged belly and thickened again at the waistband of his shorts, promising more of his treasure beneath the cotton fabric. I quickly stripped his legs of the last of the overalls, and slipped his shoes and socks off, freeing his hairy, muscular legs. Steve was breathing hard, sweat rolling down from his armpits, his scent now filling the room with his heat, his lusty desire.
My hand reached to his crotch, gently exploring the outside of his shorts, feeling his hard cock and large furry ball sack. One finger found its way through the flap on the front of his shorts, and caressed the thick fur surrounding his cockroot and balls, until I found one of his balls, and gave it a long caress, feeling it rise in his sack, preparing itself to empty its load into his steamy, ready cock.
I kissed Steve gently on his lips, and whispered that it was his turn to explore me. He brought his trembling fingers to my shirt, and clumsily unbuttoned me, and stripped my shirt off my now-damp, eager chest.
"Touch me, Steve. Explore me, and feel what I am offering you tonight," I whispered. "I want you now, and I want you as my lover tonight."
I could feel the heat from Steve's chest and face, as he blushed, and then looked into my eyes, and nodded. I ran my fingers across his full moustache and grinned.
"Yeah, I really want you tonight," I added. "We have all the time in the world, so let's take this slow and easy."
Steve ran his sweaty hand down through the fur on my chest, rubbing my nipples, and exploring the curves and shapes of my body, and came to my belt buckle, where he slowly eased the belt flap out of the buckle, and pulled on the belt, loosening it, exposing the top button. His hands pushed against the hairs around my belly button, as he worked at opening the button, and began to pull down the zipper.
He trembled a bit, as my hard cock sprang out, bouncing against his fingers, my hairy, hot balls not far behind.
"You're not wearing any underwear," Steve said, as he blushed again.
"I go commando when I know company is coming," I replied, as I pushed my hips towards his hands, so that my cock was rubbing against his fingers and palm.
"I thought you'd like a few surprises tonight," I chuckled. "Now that you've got me by the balls, make yourself at home, partner."
Steve soon stripped me of my jeans, and ran his fingers through my groin and around to my hard butt cheeks, up my back and around my neck, bringing our bearded faces together. He rubbed his beard against mine, and then kissed me again. I opened my lips and ran my wet tongue around his lips, and pushed myself into his mouth, exploring his tongue, and then licking his thick moustache, until it was wet and shiny in the candlelight.
Grabbing two condoms from the drawer, I knelt before my incredibly desirable lover, giving God thanks for this dinner with Steve and this time with his hairy, hot body, and gently tugged his briefs down from his waist, pulling out the fabric so that his erect cock could bounce free of its cotton shroud, open at last to my lustful eyes. He was uncut, his foreskin stretched away from his piss slit, which was oozing pre-cum, shining his cockhead with moisture.
I tore one condom open and gently unfolded it over his hard manhood, watching the latex envelope his strength, until the last folds met the thick hairs at the base of his cock. As I knelt at his feet, I gently licked his rubbered shaft, and licked his thick, heavy ball sack, taking first one and then both of his nuts into my hot, hungry mouth, rubbing the hairs and his nuts with my tongue.
Then, I stood up and kissed Steve once again on his lips, asking him to sheathe me with the other condom. His fingers shook, as he ripped open the second packet, and he began to unroll the second condom down my thick, wanting cock. As his fingers touched my cock, he blushed again.
"I've never touched a man before, Terry. I'm not sure I'm doing this right," he whispered.
"It feels great to me, Steve, and that's all that matters tonight. Just do anything that feels right to you," I replied, as I felt him hold me, rolling the condom all the way down to the root of my needy cock.
I pulled my new lover over to the bed, and laid him on his back, as I straddled his face with my thighs, and rubbed my hairy chest down his belly, so that my head rested on his thigh, next to his manhood and his heavy ball sack, now touching his meaty thigh next to my beard. He smelled earthy, the sweat on his balls fresh, citrusy with his lust, and his nervousness of his first time with a man. I ran my hands over all of his willing, hungry body, feeling his hair, his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the pockets of moisture on his chest, his armpits, and the crack of his butt, and under his balls, next to his hole.
Steve's fingers and hands explored me, too, and I felt his warm hands rub my balls, and run along my shaft, circling my cockhead, and probing the thick furred forests of my groin, belly, chest, and pits.
Slowly, I took all of his meat into my lusty mouth, until I felt the curls of his hair snag on my moustache, the rich, musty smell of his lust, his heat filling my nostrils with his aroma. His hips began to move, pushing and pulling his meat against my tongue and lips, as I fondled the rim of his cockhead with the tip of my tongue, each time he plunged into my bearded mouth, as I baptized his cock with my holy water, welcoming him into the company of the chosen ones, the special blessed brotherhood of Christ. We fell into a familiar cadence, his pelvis rocking, sending vibrations through his naked thigh, onto my bearded cheeks, and back to his pistoning cock.
Steve cupped my balls, and I could feel his tension build as he climbed to his release, his body now breaking into a thick, lusty sweat. He began to moan, calling for God in an ancient form of prayer, and invoking our lord and savior as his cum began to explode from his balls, and into his cock, filling the rubber with his steaming jism against my tongue. He thrashed and tossed against the bed and against my thighs, as he shot again and again, until his balls relaxed against my hand, his breath beginning to ease.
I moved around to hold him in my arms, nuzzling his neck and face, calling his name, naming him my lover, as Steve clutched me tightly to his wet, hot chest.
Then, I straddled Steve's chest, looking down on his bearded face, now split into a wide grin, his eyes twinkling with pleasure and relief. He looked up at my still hard cock, and began to hold it in his fist, slowly pumping it.
"It's your turn, lover," he said, as he cupped my balls, and increased his movements, until I leaned back on my arms, my chest heaving, and pushed out, as he set fire to my cock, sending jolts of electricity through my balls and cock to my brain, until I, too, shot burst after burst of my seed, filling the rubber with the fruit of my vines, until my chest, too, dripped with the sweat of my labors, my lust.
I pulled Steve from our love bed, we padded, bare assed, into the bathroom, and I turned on the living water in the shower. I brought a candle with us into the bathroom, and soon busied myself with soaping and scrubbing my lover, fondling his cockhead underneath his foreskin, and soaping up his hole, causing Steve to moan with delight, his cock again beginning to fill, and swell. I handed the soap to Steve, and he soon was exploring my armpits and balls with his soapy fingers, and making himself at home in every orifice of my willing body.
We dried each other off, and we returned to the altar of our love, where I laid down on my back in front of Steve, spreading my thighs, opening my hole, asking him to fill me with his hard cock. I guided Steve to my ball sack, feeling his strong fingers caress my nuts, and the hairs of my balls, and the smooth, silky skin on my cock.
Handing Steve a bottle of lube, I guided him on his work at wetting me for his taking of my ass, teaching him how to stroke my prostate, how to move his cock inside of me. Steve moved quickly against my butt cheeks, and I felt him rise again, his once again stiff cock hard, his strong hands on my shoulders, as his hips positioned himself against my hole, his cock now sheathed again for his second cumming.
With a loud moan, Steve entered me, quickly filling me with his hardness, until I felt his balls bounce against my butt, his thick, coarse pubes rubbing against my balls, and resurrected cock. He moved over me, rubbing his furry chest against my chest, pinning me on the bed, as he began moving back and forth inside of me, racing both of us on to our explosion. Soon, Steve called upon the Trinity again, as his balls again emptied inside of me, his hot, sweaty chest rubbing against my fur, his bearded face panting next to my beard, as he again found God.
"Hallelujah," Steve cried out, his cock spurting once again. "The Lord is risen."
"The Lord is risen,indeed. Hallelujah," I answered, echoing the cumming of my brother in Christ.
"Lord, I'm born again. I'm a believer," Steve moaned, as he pulled his spent cock from my ass, where it draped over his emptied furry balls, as I hugged him close to me, close enough for me to feel the beating of his sacred heart against my hairy chest.
Copyright 2008. Oregon Bear.