Adam Venus
The next day’s church visit is quick – it’s very obvious to me that they’ve already chosen their pastor from a previous visit, so my stop seems like more of a formality than anything else. That night, in Spartanburg, South Carolina, Fab and I start pawing at each other. He got a spray tan yesterday, and he looks absolutely irresistible. But just as we hit the mattress, my phone starts ringing.
I look down at the screen and groan. Crap, I forgot – it’s Professor Meier, my spiritual mentor, the man the school assigned to check in with me occasionally and see how I’m doing on my journey with God.
“Ugh, pause.”
“What?”
“My mentor is calling.”
“Your what?”
“My mentor from school. He prays with me, he asks if I need anything…just hold on.”
“Nope, you already got me going. I’m not stopping now. Just answer, and see what happens.”
I roll my eyes and finally answer the phone, hoping I sound normal, and sit up against the headboard. But to my horror, Fabian does the same exact thing. As I get into my conversation, I lock eyes with him, and his expression is absolutely lethal. He wants me, and the bulge in his pants, which he is not even hiding, is proof.
“How’s your spiritual journey going?” Mr. Meier says soon, as my heart thunders in my ears. Thankfully he’s nice, but so old he doesn’t really know what’s going on at any given moment. I’m thankful as Fabian starts reaching down, moving his hand closer and closer to his bulge as I sit there powerfully…
“Um,” I swallow with a dry mouth. “It’s going…great.”
“Fall into any temptation traps lately? Anything you’d like to talk about?”
As I watch with terrified eyes, Fabian starts rubbing the end of his bulge, ever so slowly. I can see the outline through the thin fabric – a vein here, the tip there. He slides out of his shirt, displaying that rippled body.
“Not…really,” I croak.
“None at all?” he asks as Fabian’s hand slips under the seam of his underwear. As I watch, my body stiff as plywood, he slowly inches them down…until the top of his legs and the tip of his penis is exposed. The end is seeping something glistening and delicious looking. There – I can admit it’s delicious, can’t I?
“Um…I got very angry at someone the other day,” I say, thinking of anything in the world to talk about except the fact that I have a naked man next to me.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I lost my temper and lashed out and said some things that were maybe wrong.”
“Let’s talk about that, then. You know Satan likes to tempt us by making us see red. What triggered you?”
Fabian pulls his pants down to his knees. He wraps his hand around his penis and starts rubbing, his body tensing and flexing, and he moans very quietly. At this point I cannot put a sentence together.
“He…challenged something I said, and I…I got mad…and I guess, prideful…and I…lashed out.”
“Everything alright now?” he asks as Fabian’s leg twitches. I want him to stop, but – okay, no, let’s get real. That’s the last thing I want in the world. For a moment I let my imagination run wilder than wild – I want to crouch between his legs, explore the space between there, maybe even take him in my hands or into my mouth. How would it taste? How would the skin feel against mine? How does it smell? How would it make me feel? What sounds would he make? How would he move, how would he sigh?
I am so paralyzed, though. I still don’t even know how to get through to myself and pierce through all the layers of emotion that are keeping me from him.
His rubbing speeds up, and his body goes long and tense. I obviously know what’s about to happen, and as Meier goes on and on about something-or-other, I watch without breathing as he gets closer…closer…closer…
“Shall we pray?” he finally asks, just as Fabian leans back his head, goes still for a moment, and then squirts all over his chest. I look away for one moment, shocked, then back again. This felt like a prayer, in a way – it felt intimate and joyful, an honest-to-goodness rush.
“Sure,” I say.
“Dear Heavenly Father, thank you so much for this green earth, and for all the people on it. Please lead us all to the Word, and not to things that may draw us away from you. Help your son Adam not to snap into anger, but to…”
I nod a few times as Fabian slows his breathing and smiles over at me. Finally something takes hold of me and I do it – I reach my hand over, dip a finger into his semen, and slip the finger into my mouth as he watches with shocked eyes. It tastes…salty, and it has a strange, slippery consistency that coats my entire inner mouth. But I don’t dislike it. Actually, it makes me come alive in a way only a few things ever have before – the scent of a passing man’s neck, the fit of football pants on Riley Straub’s legs back in high school. Fabian is my own personal pheromone – that’s blatantly clear already.
“Amen,” my mentor and I say together, Fabian’s salty taste still lingering in my mouth. To taste something he made, something his body produced, sends me over the top.
I hang up the phone, but I’m not done yet. The pleasantness of what I just did – it’s making me want to keep going.
“Fab,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come twice in a row?”
“Huh? Yeah. Why?”
“Let’s continue. But I want to learn more. Give me a lesson.”
“A lesson?”
I take a deep breath, then meet his eyes. “On how to suck you.”