A Vintage Car & Split Enz

Taking my General Ordinations had been a relatively stress-free & simple act compared with the years I'd studied. I was placed at St. John's under the experienced guidance of the Reverend Adams, a man in his mid 70s, a pillar of the community. The congregation there had remained steady, even throughout the pandemic when the Epicostal services had been conducted via Zoom meetings.

I quickly fell into a rhythm with Adams, he was easy to work with, happy to share his experience. He was gracious with my new ideas, my excitement. I think he found me amusing but also felt a renewed sense of energy having a young man to share the responsibility with. I worked hard, especially on our online presence. I revamped our website & helped Adams adjust to using social media as a way to explore ideas that may not have made it into that week's reading but were nonetheless important. I made sure I interacted with our young people, who struggled with maintaining values in our complicated world.

My community engagement was high, I put effort into learning the names, relationships & stories of each of the regular attendees. I had dinner at their homes, I ran the youth programs, & allowed six of the teenagers access to the hall on Thursday nights, so they could practise their Christian rock music. I went to a few of their concerts, to support them & enjoyed connecting with the kids who were the lifeblood of the church's future. I planned fundraisers, not just the bake sales & used book drives, but bowling nights, escape room activities, silent auctions & BBQs in the park where we had an open invitation to the community (especially the homeless). God had put me where I could be used & I was thankful for the trust & warm welcome I'd been shown.

It was after one late Friday night in the church, when I'd been reorganising the vestry, that my car wouldn't start. Perhaps pride had been my downfall when instead of a newer, more reliable used car, I'd set my eyes on a 1970 Buick Skylark. A rich gold, with a beige interior, it hadn't exactly been a Ford Mustang but it definitely earned me some impressed & surprised looks. Nostalgia from the older people, envy from the young men who dreamed of future cars they'd drive. I loved being 'the young priest with the cool car.' I felt it conferred on me some social caché.

I was ready to call it quits, the hood up, having checked the fan-belt, the spark plugs, & poured water into the radiator to no avail. I sighed & pulled out my phone when a familiar big car pulled in. It was Trevor Doyle, one of the regular attendees, father of three & generous supporter of our last silent auction in both donations & bids. "Well, look at that," he said, "I guess the old girl isn't ready to go home."

I'd laughed & we talked about the engine, the sound it had made when I'd tried to start it. He suggested I check the spark plugs, already covered. "You're lucky, I had a late night stocktaking & was just driving past. I can drop you home, get in," & he unclicked the passenger side door for me. I thanked him, thanked God for the providence of a taxi-free lift. I'd leave the Skylark locked at the church & would deal with it in the morning, fresh.

Softly from the speakers drifted some unfamiliar progressive rock, almost as old as my car, I thought. I asked him, & he told me it was a band from NZ called Split Enz. As we drove, we made smalltalk, I asked after his wife & kids. Asked how his business was going. Inquired about the health of his parents. The late night was quiet, traffic was thin, it had been raining & the street lights shone like reflected Christmas tree bulbs. Briefly I registered that we weren't going directly to my place & mentioned it "if you don't mind, I'd like to make a quick stop before we go there, Reverend." His voice was low & I felt something stirring.

The stop he meant, turned out to be off the road by High Bridge Park. We pulled into the darkness, out of reach of the street lights, off the road & away from the main entrance. The view was beautiful, for a moment I sat in the passenger seat & admired the quiet nature around us as the music played in the background. I was about to ask if he needed to get out of the car, when he'd reached gently towards me, pulled my face to his & kissed me. It was a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue slid inside my mouth & I felt my face flushing with heat.

As an 18 year old I'd lost my virginity to a young woman I'd escorted to senior prom. I think we had a good night, we'd both been curious & wanted to try sex, though even then I dreamed of devoting myself in service of the Lord. She'd helped me roll on a condom & I had entered her carefully in the missionary position (poignant). I hadn't actually cum, but we'd done it & the warm interior of another body had felt nice around my hard-on.

At seminary school I'd known a few students who'd experimented with each other, ones who had even conducted sexual relationships with members of the same gender. I could remember reading in my room when I heard a pair of them in the room beside me, & I had leaned my back against the shared wall, listening to the grunts, the vibration of the headboard as it banged rhythmically. I had ejaculated into a T-shirt when I'd heard what must have been their own climax, their male voices almost feminine in the throes of ecstasy.

I'd felt ashamed of myself when the afterglow wore off. I prayed for forgiveness & the next time I'd heard my neighbour bring a friend home I'd shut my textbooks & left the dorm for an hour. I visited the cafeteria, drinking black coffee before finally returning. I started to suspect, due to my low sex-drive, my infrequent urges to masturbate, that I may even be asexual. It had almost been a comfort, but that theory was entirely destabilised by Trevors large tongue exploring my mouth, his hands reaching under my shirt, into my pants.

I was on fire, his hands were large, strong, with little ginger hairs on the top segments of his fingers. His shoulders were broad, I could smell fading Ralph Lauren polo cologne on his skin, I could feel the rough scratch of his 5 o'clock shadow as he kissed me. I grew more adventurous, more hungry. I kissed him down the neck, running my tongue provocatively over his Adam's apple.

My hands pulled his shirt off him, over his head, my hands undid the fly of his pants & I tore his boxers in my haste to get to the twitching, erect cock that had been fighting to get out. It was much larger than mine, he was a large guy, tall, thick, built like an old linebacker. My dick was small, delicate, especially compared to what bobbed in front of my eyes. As if by instinct I'd undone the seat belt, had opened the passenger door behind me to give me room & I knelt on the seat, as if in prayer. I opened my mouth against the smooth, hard dome of his glans & started to suck. I sucked with all my might, as if trying to suck poison from a snakebite. "Too hard," he gasped, "oh God, Reverend, that's too hard."

But I ignored him. I grabbed the shaft, twisted it, pulled it, the way I had liked it when I'd listened in on something similar as a student. Then I started running my wet tongue up & down the length of him, as if painting him with my saliva & when he was panting, almost frozen in rapture, his hands having fallen limply beside him, I had taken his whole, glorious length in my mouth. I felt the tip brushing the back of my throat, deep, deep in my throat & I was surprised to find it natural to relax those muscles, to hold my breath, as I took him all in.

My tongue slipped out & as I held his entire cock with my mouth I licked the frenulum & root, even his balls, barely gagging on his pulsing, shaved genitals. Then I slid my head back, locking him half in my mouth, so I could breathe through my nose, swirling my tongue around him & sucked harder, sucked like an industrial vacuum cleaner, sucked until my jaw ached. "Oh God, oh God," he was moaning, "oh fuck, that's amazing, oh God, that's too hard, don't stop, oh God." & he came like a dam breaking, grabbing me by the hair & holding my head still as he shuddered. The taste of him was salty, but not quite salty. Some of his semen ran onto my chin, a slightly chlorine scent, & I wiped it back into my mouth with my finger & swallowed it all.

He was slouched backwards, the violence of the blowjob having almost pulled him off the car seat. His eyes were closed & he was breathing as though he'd just run a marathon. I felt euphoric, not guilty at all, but as though awash in the light of God, in his grace. As though this confluence of events, the car that wouldn't start, Trevor's late night at the furniture shop, had been a reward for my faith. Surely, this was God's love, as equally as it was when a man & woman were married, when a child was born, & when I had vowed my love for Jesus.

Through the speakers the playlist continued & a lyric drifted into my moment: 'oh there's nothing quite as real as the touch of your sweet hand, I can't spend the rest of my life buried in the sand.'

I chewed coyly on my thumbnail as I watched him gather his thoughts, watched him bring his breathing back to a steady rate. His eyes opened & he watched me out of the side of them for a while, studying me, while not moving. I removed my clothes, entirely naked in the front seat of his Chrysler Pacifica. Still, I felt brazen, excited, rather than nervous or guilty. I took it as a sign. How risky that first night with Trevor had been, imagine the headlines had a cop slowed down, noticed the idling family vehicle & knocked on the window. It was a miracle.

My hand was around my dick, harder than it had ever been, even as a teenager when I'd expected to be almost perpetually stiff from puberty. I rubbed myself & he watched for a while. I was having my sexual awakening later than most people. Trevor leaned forward & we kissed, then he twisted me around, turned me so his face was level with my anus. Such incredible waves of pleasure, such teasing & tingling throughout my entire body, my toes, my ears, every inch of skin on fire with arousal as he lapped my hairy, virgin asshole. His fingers gently spread my buttcheeks, I could feel the night air touching that most private, intimate part of me as I gaped open a little with each pull.

He paused, wetting his index finger with his tongue, then started to insert the tip. I felt myself clench a little & he whispered "relax, baby" into that hairy area, still licking & nibbling my rim to make it easier for the passage of that digit. I felt his long finger, like a thick pencil, travelling into that secret hole, deeper & deeper. I felt the tantalising bumps of both knuckles as he passed that threshold & then he hooked the finger slightly & touched something I hadn't felt before. It was as if he was pressing a button, a strange, secret button that grew inside me & had been waiting for someone to wake it up.

"Oh God," I whispered, realising I was having my prostate massaged. It was the single most sensual & incredible experience of my life. I swayed liquidly on my hands & knees, I felt like the world, like time itself had stopped everywhere while all sensation was concentrated into that specific, secret location. I wanted him inside me, all of him, not just his dick but everything, I wanted to open up, to let him walk around inside my body, to let him run his hands on my insides as if they were walls. I wanted an impossible, insane intimacy, I was burning all over with desire to the point that my body was overriding my thoughts. I wanted it to go on for forever, I wanted him to use me, to fuck me, to put things up my ass, to tie me down & brutalise me. I wanted him to own me, to keep me in his car & always, always eat my ass, suck my dick, perhaps under the pulpit, perhaps in front of my congregation, I was crazy with fantasy & wanting. Want want want. No clear thoughts, just want.

I felt myself reaching climax, felt it coming, felt my dick steel-hard & hot, my balls twitching & contracting. I levered myself off his busy finger & turned around, still holding my erection with one hand, the other hand holding his head steady, & in three quick jerks I covered his face, his forehead, his nose, his mouth & chin with cum. I feel (in rejection of biological evidence) it had been collecting dormant inside me, until that very night when it was freed properly. Splattered with my cum, it looked like runny frosting. I would've laughed but I was so light-headed that I nearly fell backwards out of the car.

Trevor leaned over & pressed something on the touchscreen controls, reclining the seat for me. I dropped into it & we both sat, quietly amazed at the encounter. He wiped his face with baby wipes from a pocket in the door. He offered me a few. We threw them out the window after we were done. I know, not good for the environment, but it was just that once.

We both got dressed, needing to stand outside the door for a moment while we did so, smiling like kids in the moonlight. Then he restarted the car. Before we drove back to the road he asked "have you ever done that before?"

"Never," I said, & laughed at the absurdity of the moment.

"Wow." He sighed.

"Wow." I agreed.

The playlist changed, it was replaced by a Talking Heads one. As we neared my house he started speaking again "Rev, have you had anal sex yet?"

"Before tonight?" I asked.

"I mean, real anal sex. Have you ever had a man's dick inside your ass?"

I admitted I hadn't, admitted I was actually extremely inexperienced. He said thoughtfully "I thought so, I assumed you were... I was surprised tonight, when you'd been so..." he drifted off a little. "I didn't expect you to be so receptive, how responsive you'd been to the situation & it made me think maybe you were more experienced than I initially guessed." he considered, "I was going to dick you, but you caught me by surprise."

I shifted a little, I could feel my cock getting harder again. His eyes darted at the bulge in my pants & I noticed his knuckles gripped a little tighter to the steering wheel. "The weekends are busy, you know, kids," he continued, "but how about I come here on Monday night, or the afternoon, if it's not busy at the store I can duck out early?"

"Yeah," I murmured wistfully, "that sounds perfect." We pulled into my driveway, idling. He looked at me in the shadows. I wanted to drag him inside with me, have him deflower my anus immediately, I almost asked him but thought better of it. The digital display on his dash said it was close to midnight, we'd been out for hours, for what was meant to be a ten minute drive. I grinned.

"I have to go," he said, almost apologetically. "Char will be wondering. I had a great time, Rev. Can't wait for Monday."

I scooted forward, grabbing him by the face & kissed him goodnight. He flinched a little, concerned someone might see us I guess, but allowed me. I jumped out of the car, tapped the hood on my way past without looking back & went inside. I heard him pulling away. Well, I thought, I'm definitely not asexual. I was glowing, I felt awake, I felt more myself than I ever had. It felt like a religious experience, a real awakening. I only felt a twinge of guilt when I thought about how he'd said 'Char will be wondering.' His poor wife.

But, I reassured myself, Trevor was the married one, he'd know what the limits were in their relationship. I knew a lot of married couples had flexible arrangements these days, perhaps their marriage was like that. Besides, I was giddy with excitement about the upcoming Monday night. I knew I'd touch myself that night, knew I'd struggle to keep my hands off myself until we could be together again. I imagined the sermon I'd deliver on Sunday, imagined blushing at him from the pulpit, almost certainly growing hard under my vestments. I'd have to choose my undergarments that day carefully, to try & conceal my arousal.

I was so turned on, I wondered how people found porn on the internet, I knew it was something we spoke about a lot, with couples where porn addictions were interfering in their relationship, about the path toward sin it put people on, about the risks to our young people, to their souls. I typed 'porn' into the search engine on my laptop & the first result was 'Pornhub'. It was a site I'd heard of from pop culture, so I assumed it was safe, although my hands trembled as I opened it on my screen.

Like manna from God, there were pages & pages of free videos, the thumbnails showing close ups of straight sex, penises, puffy vaginas. I narrowed the search to 'gay' & found myself engaged by the videos. I watched until long after the sun rose the next day. I hadn't stayed up all night since college. I slept a few hours, proof-read my sermon notes & dove back in. I couldn't WAIT for Monday night.