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Altar Boy

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 30 Apr 1999 0 comments
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Altar Boy by Tarbaby54@yahoo.com (Tarbaby54@yahoo.com)The first sex I ever had, I had when I couldn't even get a load off. Why not? I was in the fourth grade. This was how it happened.I was a student in Mt. St. Joseph Semi Military Academy in Newburg, NY. If you know anything about boarding schools, you know that they are hotbeds of homosex and homosexuality. I am not suggesting that all of the people who engage in homosex in the absence of female company are gay. If so, then boarding schools, prisons, the military, monasteries would all be populated by queers. The fact is however, that 95% of the boys in that school were doing it, as I was later to find out.Part of what the boys beginning with the fourth grade were supposed to do, was to "serve on the altar." That meant that the two servers had to get up when everybody else was till sleeping, get dressed and go over to the convent to "serve" the early nun's Mass and instead of study hall on Thursday, go again to serve "Holy Hour," a kind of meditation service with exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and then later, a Benediction.Between the time when the Blessed Sacrament was taken out of the tabernacle and the Benediction was about one hour, hence the name "Holy Hour." During this time the servers got to eat ginger snaps and drink ginger ale courtesy of the nuns---a big treat as far as boarding school goes.My serving partner was a boy from the sixth grade, Raphael. I remember him to this day. He was about my height but better built, more muscular. I was still fighting a losing battle with baby fat and he was on the baseball team. He had skin the color of coffee with too much milk--his parents were from the Dominican Republic. His eyes were brown and his hair was the color of burnt straw and curly but not kinky. I also remember that he had a slight hump in the middle of his back, and it wasn't until I saw "The Hunchback of Nortre Dame" that I understood why the eighth graders (the "seniors") called him Quasimodo.I do remember that during my first week "on the altar" he was a patient teacher, never getting angry at me for making mistakes and never making fun of me in front of the other boys as others had done with other first timers, He was quiet, calm and seemed to be oblivious to me almost. When told to do something he said simply, "Yes, S'tr," and then he showed me how it was to be done: everything from lighting the coal for the incense. to what surplice to wear with what cassock. He was older, I was younger and I merely did what he told me. So it was that the first four days of our mutual association passed without incident.We were called out of study hall to serve the "Holy Hour" and on the way over o the convent he said, "Tonight we're gonna have some fun." I had already heard about the cookies and soda and that's what aI thought he was talking about. Boy, was I wrong.After the priest took the Blessed Sacrament out of the tabernacle, we went into the sacristy and took off our surplices, left our cassocks on, got our soda and cookies, and being "free," proceeded to take advantage of our freedom. We walked down to the lake and as it was an early fall upstate NY evening, were enjoying the way the breeze was blowing.On the way down he said, "Stand chickie, I got to take a piss." So he goes up to the convent wall and I stood "chickie" (watch) while he took a leak. After about 2 mins. he was still standing there and I said, "Hey, Raphael, let's go!" He said, "Wait a minute, I'm not done." "What are you doing?" I asked and I noticed that his right arm was moving rather fast and that his head had sort of leaned back and that his cassock was shaking as though there were an earthquake.I went up to where he was standing and I saw that he had his hard cock poking out from between the buttons of his cassock and that his hand was moving quickly up and down its shaft. I had never seen anything like that before, the only hard ons I ever had were bothersome piss hard ons in the morning. The rest of the time my cock was a mere faucet.He sort of looked at me and said, "Touch it." I was so used to following him and doing everything that he said that I did just that. His cock was hot---on fire almost. Rock hard and fat. Uncut and pointing somewhat to one side. He said, " Do you like it?" What could I say? It wasn't a matter of like or not like. I was totally fascinated. Coming up to my nostrils was a smell like wet cornchips--not unpleasant but very , um fleshy and sort of damp feeling and pissy smelling.He put his hand on mine and held it and began to rock back and forth, moving my hand up and down his round and square hard pole. I admit to being captivated by the sight of his cockhead appearing and disappearing as his foreskin covered and uncovered it. "Kiss it," he commanded. And I did. It had a slightly salty taste. There was a bit of clear liquid where his piss had come out and some of it got on my lips. I licked it and it was bitter-salty. He leaned forward (now I know that he wanted me to suck it) and I stood up again and looked him in the eye and then back down at what was in my hand. It had gotten harder and hotter and started to twitch in my hand. i began to be afraid."I think we'd better go," I suggested and he countered, "Just wait a minute. I have something that I want to show you." It was at this moment that he began to stroke himself with my hand. His breathing began to get shorter and shorter and then he let out a little scream, "Urrrgggggggghhhhhh!" I was amazed to see some white stuff come out of the hole where piss came out of my dick and I thought at first that he had hurt himself and half thought to go and get the nurse. But he had such a smile on his face and he seemed so calm. The stuff was at once hot then cool in my hand and was about the consistency of snot. This was the first time I had ever seen manscumHe flicked what was on the end of his dick onto the grass and said, "C'mon. let's go back." I was so out of it, that I had completely forgotten about my ginger ale and cookies.This was the beginning of my initiation, not only onto masturbation, but also gay sex, and Raphael was to continue to be my teacher for two years. But that's another story.