Sex Under The Sun
When the hell will they drop that crazy celibacy nonsense?! — Allen groans loudly, rattling the newspaper in frustration. He’s had a few drinks. The party had thinned to a dozen or so people.
So the Bishop just gets away with it — shifts around a priest who admitted to sexually abusing 35 boys — and the old bastard gets to quietly retire. Amazing how prevalent this stuff was.
A friend comes over and glances over Allen’s shoulder to look at the newspaper story. Slyly smiling—seeing in Allen’s eyes the right number of drinks to get a direct answer — so, have you ever had sex with a priest?
Well since you asked — smiling — I did have sex with two priests, but I was in my twenties. The two experiences as different as the weather was on each day.
First one I answered a newspaper ad. On the phone we agreed it was a match and then almost as a PS he adds that I’d be coming to a church rectory to see him. A downpouring rainy day. He undressed from a cassock! And then was rushed, callous; an insensitive creep.
The other was actually an ex-priest — maybe that’s the difference, he adds with a grin. We met in a cruising park, and he was the person who really taught me the pleasures of man-sex. Slow, gentle, exploring, caring; amazingly beautiful physical contact. And yeah, I remember that it was gorgeous outside, the warm sun pouring through the window.
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.
Heliocentric Redux 2019
Heliocentric. October 2018 writing project — one short sketch a day, under 250 words each, circling like a planet around The Sun.
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Tempest Tossed in New York City — writing and art and life in New York City.