Adam Venus
Every year, the church associated with my school throws one of the largest Bethlehem reenactments in the world, with camels, shops, and a massive nativity area. The Bethlehem Experience is under the purview of the school, and this year I’m on the advisory committee. And I’d totally forgotten that the first meeting was tonight. I’ve already been blowing them off enough lately, and they’re probably suspicious. Besides that, my car is in the driveway. I have no way out of this. I’ll have to welcome five men into my living room. Five straight, Christian men.
The first thing I know is that I can’t, under any circumstances, let them see Fabian. The next, just as important, thing is that I can’t let him know I’m hiding him, either.
I stand up, trying to stay cool. “Hey. Stay in here. I’m gonna cook you dinner. A surprise dinner.”
“Really? But I’m not really hungry.”
“Yes you are.”
“Um, okay. Let me help, then.”
“No! Stay in here. It’s a surprise. Come out one time, and I’ll be very, very mad.”
I push him back on the bed and head out into the living room. The whole group is already here, and I am mortified. But still I try to make everyone welcome, sitting them on what little furniture I have.
“Hey, hey, sorry, I was showering. Welcome! Come, you know the drill, let’s just sit in the living room…”
Everyone settles in. We begin with prayer, and then it’s onto the details of Bethlehem. But inside, I’m a wreck. My secret boyfriend, or whatever he is, is hidden away, ten feet from us. Sweat is running down my head, and my stomach is boiling. Then I remember I’m supposed to be cooking for Fabian.
“Hold on,” I say five minutes into the meeting. “Or, I mean, keep going. I’m gonna make us some snacks.”
“But it’s eight. We’ve all eaten dinner.”
“I haven’t, so I guess they’re all for me!” I say as I head into the kitchen, which is still open to the living area. I listen halfheartedly to the boring meeting as my mind flashes with images of what he just did to me.
“Remember to send the deposit to the petting zoo lady for the camels and the goats…call the fire department to make sure we’re cleared to have that bonfire next to the front gates…”
When I’ve microwaved some leftover chicken casserole, I pass them on the way to my bedroom. “Hey, um, I have to…pee.”
“With food?” Tanner asks, motioning at the plate in my hand.
“I mean…yes. Be right back.”
I disappear into my bedroom and lock the door. When I turn back around, I gasp – he’s naked on my bed, staring up at me, with his hard penis in his hands.
Oh, no.
“What took you so long?” he asks, beckoning me forward. “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”
“Oh,” I say, coming forward as if on autopilot. “Um, I’m hungry, so I figured I’d…start eating. Remember, don’t go out there yet, okay? I’m still…making dessert.”
“I’m not going out there, because you’re coming over here.”
“What?”
“Adam, you are so beautiful. Please come here.”
I don’t know what else to do, so I walk over. His hands fall on my belt and start undoing it. My body surges with need and guilt and desire, but I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him. And I have a plate of chicken casserole in my hands.
“Oh, Fabian, I have something on the stove, and – oh.”
Just like that, with one hand stroking himself, he pulls my penis out of my pants with his other hand and devours it. I feel myself go hard inside his throat, which is the single sexiest sensation I have ever experienced. I’ve never been fully inside someone’s mouth before – ever. I’ve messed around with some girls, sure, but I never got this far – I never forgot my Sunday School teacher Miss Debbie telling us that oral sex was just as ungodly as any other kind of sex. So I never went that far with a woman – and ironically here I am, blazing past all stop signs, with a man. Go figure.
The blowjob makes me moan immediately – it feels like it’s being rolled around inside the warmest ocean in the world. I spot a cross pendant atop my dresser and wish in passing that I’d put it away when I’d had the chance. Why was I always setting myself up for these little moments of guilt? Seems like the Catholic gene never truly left me, even if I left the church…
“You like it, baby?”
“Oh my God, yes…”
I moan so loud I am sure they can hear it in the living room, if they’re listening. This makes me roar back into my head, and I push him back a little and try to regain my wits. “Fab, that was…that was amazing, but hold on. You should wait for your dessert. I’ll be back.”
“But…”
“But waiting will make it better. Just hold on.”
Red-faced, I adjust my pants to hide my boner and head back into the meeting like nothing ever happened. My heart is beating a million miles a minute, and I’m sure I look a total mess. But all I want is to head back into that room and explore him again already, have fun with his body, see what he’s got to offer…
They’re going over budgetary details now, and I sit and try to act normal as my pulse races. But truth be told, that was the best thing I’d ever felt. The softness of his mouth coupled with the coarseness of his light stubble was just…too much, really. And I want it. I want it again.
I try to contribute, but I can’t really form many words. I just sit there, praying for everything to end soon. When ten minutes I hear a sound coming from my bedroom and realize I need to check in with him one last time before the meeting adjourns, or else I could have a naked man walking into my church group. So I excuse myself again, claiming an upset stomach, then stop by the refrigerator and grab a Popsicle and a glass of water. Then I head into the bedroom one more time – and he’s sitting on the floor, in front of the door.
“Where were you?”
I just stare at him.
“I can’t wait anymore. I need it now.”
“What?”
“Your cum. So give it to me.”
He lunges forward and unwraps me from my pants, this time with both hands. Then he takes the Popsicle and starts dancing it around the tip of my penis, and, wow – the cold sensation sends my nerves tingling into heaven.
“Oh, Fab…”
I grab his hair and pull a little as he plays with me. I’ve never felt anything like this. He tosses the Popsicle into the trash and starts sucking harder and deeper, and I’ve never been handled like this in my life. His mouth is so sweet, so wet, so…deep. And the fact that he’s aroused by me just turns me on even more. I lean back and stare unseeingly at the ceiling. If I could make this moment last forever, I would. I can’t believe what I was missing out on, I simply can’t believe it. Cathedrals, frescoes, choirs – none of that has ever made me feel the majesty provided by this moment.
“What the hell?” he asks, and I look down and see I’ve dripped some water on his head.
“Oh, sorry – I lost myself for a little, there.”
“You just baptized me,” he smirks. “While I sucked your dick.”
“Please stop talking, or else we’ll really go to hell. Just suck me instead.”
He dives forward again, bringing me right back to the precipice. “Ahhh,” I gasp, and then I finish in one of the loudest orgasms I’ve ever had in my life.
I poke my head out one last time, abandon all dignity and claim I’m having diarrhea, and then retreat into my room and lock the door. I can’t believe I pulled that off – they’ll get bored and let themselves out, and I’ll just text them in the morning and apologize and tell them how much better I feel. And I do feel better – I just got my first blowjob from Fabian Blanco. They don’t need the rest of the details.
But not so fast. When we’re cleaning up and cooling off, the room is suddenly filled with light. The headlights of one of their cars flash through the window, then disappear. He walks forward and peers out as two more cars leave. My blood is pumping as he turns back to me. “Wait – who’s leaving? Who’s driving away? What’s going on?”
For a moment my mind races with excuses. Then I just drop my shoulders. I can’t lie to him. Not after all the other lies. I’ve already sinned more than enough tonight. “My church group.”
“What?”
I look away. “We kind of had a meeting today. Just now. That’s why…that’s why I didn’t want you out there. They were there.”
I keep my eyes away, but I can sense his shame, his embarrassment – it’s radiating off him. I want to step forward and hold him, but I can’t. I don’t know how yet. We haven’t yet reached that part of things; we’re not yet that familiar.
So I clear my throat. “Listen. Fabian. Please. This is happening so quickly…”
“No,” he says, starting to grab his stuff. “No. There is no excuse this time. You didn’t walk away from me, you hid me, lied about me.”
“But…”
“No. You could’ve asked me to leave or something. you didn’t have to hide me like some filthy secret. You’re afraid of every single little thing. Still. And you’re as tense as a statue when we’re in public. I notice things, you know.”
“But-”
He looks up and then stands straight as a cross. “You know what? No. You should’ve just told me you were ashamed of me. It would’ve saved me a lot of time.”
That cuts me deeply. “Are you…are you really leaving?”
For a moment I think I see sadness in his eyes. Then he turns and storms away. “Yes, I really am.”
And then he is gone, and suddenly I am alone again, in so many more ways than one.
This marks my second betrayal.