Our dirty little secret

CHAPTER TWO

The light of the church illuminated his face perfectly from where I stood in the front pew, I could see him clearly, his smile took the fear I felt and remodelled it giving it a different flavour ,my heart hit my rib in a loud thump, a rugged monster fighting to be free. I would never get used to the royal deepness of his eyes, his eye as darkness itself and of the shadow of death, without any order and where light is darkness.

He was light standing on the altar with his perfect gown to the heel of his feet, the Blessed Sacrament was firmly held in his hands now, he rose it up and the whole church fell to their knees, I knelt too, submissive to him and to Jesus or maybe not but to him for sure. The lady by my side who had fallen earlier stood up and dusted the dirt of her lady gown, her hands were raised up as she continuously gave thanks to Jesus as tears fell down her eyes in abundance.

I pulled my eyes away from her and back to the altar where father Matthew stood and was speaking into the microphone, his voice! Oh his voice! Nothing turned me on more than it, it was powerful, seductive and completely alluring. It summoned my d**k and played with it in the most sensuous ways, tapping and blowing even sucking, his voice was music, slow blues, the type you loved to hear while you make love, and the his groans oh! Felt like heaven.

The church was filled with stillness as the choir raised a hymn, he too stood still in all majesty, believe me I could have mistaken him for a God had I not seen him as he was created, and had I not touched his immaculate skin, had he not driven himself in me while releasing soft moans, and sometimes shaky groans, and had he never told me to ride him.

The programme ended with shouts of joy and cries of grace. Grace from the Eucharist and joy from redemption, but my cry was lost, lost in the crowd and in my throat refusing to be let out so it turns not to a longing moan, and at 23 I still couldn’t stop thinking of when I was 16.

He was the reason I took interest in the front pew, so I could see when he laughed and when he moved, so none of his actions were lost to me. I wanted to be lost in the darkness of his light, because he his darkness and light has become darkness to me.

I always sat down in the front pew which was bad in the sense that it would take me having to make my way through a crowd of people before I could get out of mass after any programme, but I have become used to it, because I have been doing it for a long time.

I skilfully dodge my way out of the very impatient crowd, everyone was eager to leave because it was already late at night, but their reason for wanting to leave was not mine. Although I wouldn’t deny that some of them shared the same reason with me, some of us didn’t mind that it was 11:15pm, all we wanted was to see father Matthew.

My legs took unsure steps to the parish house which was at the back of the church. I was alone, no family, no friend, and no hands to pull me out of the ocean of l**t. At the back of the church stood people waiting for him just like I was, like it was the second coming of the lord, when I got there I shuffled on both feet but other than that I was perfectly quiet not desiring to draw any attention of myself, I stood behind a pillar waiting for him while I watched as he attended to other people.

No one noticed me, yet in my heart I knew that he would perceive my presence, that he would notice, that he would feel it in his bones and on his flesh the presence of his Jake, just like I would have known if he was around no matter how quite he tried to be, and just like I imagined we called on each other’s bodies and we answered.

His eyes met mine but he didn’t move, he wanted to undress me with his eyes but he couldn’t, I was bringing him back from a careless revolt. I could wait, while he for a reason had to play God, although they were nothing to him, still he has to make their wishes come true.

By the time the crowd had dissipated like dew in the morning he finally started walking up to me, at first my heart moved like it was a rollercoaster then it stopped abruptly as if the control switch was damaged.

It felt like I was being commanded to remain still and obey his command perfectly, I remained still and watched in anticipation as he walked towards me and those beautiful eyes of his kissed my skin and chills travelled down my very bones, I wondered if anyone else could see the demons in his eyes, the demons that recognized me.

This beautiful demon walked closer and closer to me, with every step he takes making me more Horny and hungry for him, finally we were only inches apart and I could smell his perfume, I wanted to touch him but I couldn’t so I stood as still as a statue waiting for him to touch me instead.

My heart stopped and for some reason I forgot how to breathe, he held my forehead with both hands and closed his beautiful eyes, I listened carefully as my thoughts absolves his voice, worshipping it and committing it to memory. He prayed in silence, and for some reason I wondered, if he was praying to God and then I thought oh!! He was praying to me, to my holy body.

With his bass soft commanding voice he started “ Father almighty protect and lead your child this night, may he not forget your promise to him, may he love you as you love him, may he find grace to keep his body for you”. Amen. “Amen”. I whispered shakily, because his prayers felt more like a seditious message. “Lets us say the Hail Mary” He said and I nodded.

We both murmured the Hail Mary and at the end of the murmuring I said an Amen that I myself didn’t know I could say, as I turned to leave fearing to open my eyes, he held me back, his hands touching mine in a way I feared the chain that held my self-control would shatter.

My skin was on fire and my heart beat became unstable. “Don’t forget to pray the Rosary Jack” He muttered and I nodded in full understanding, more people came to the back of the church and their eyes on both of us, but I didn’t mind because none of them could understand the language we spoke, because we spoke in tongues.

It was the kind of language that only the both of us could understand, a new type of Pentecost and what others saw as a prayer I saw as the unveiling of a secret cave.