“You’re in me,” he gasped. “Give me a second and then let me set the pace, okay?”
I was surprised to hear my own voice just as raspy and breathless. “Okay.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I had to touch him. I grasped his thighs and ran my hands up and down the outside of his hairy legs. He placed his hands over mine and slowly began to rise up. He didn’t move more than an inch before he was coming down again, fast and hard. He was setting the pace and it was just right. He continued for a countless number of strokes before releasing my hands and putting one of his hands to each of my sides as he leaned in for a kiss. His cock was still rock-hard, and it pressed tight against my belly, squeezing out a hot pool of precum between us. As he kissed me, he continued his rhythm, riding up and down my shaft. His cock, tight between us, rubbed back and forth, well lubricated and entrapped. He kissed me deeply, thrusting his tongue in and out of my mouth with the same rhythm. He picked up speed when he pulled his mouth away from me and gasped, “Fuck me! Fuck me hard.”
I can’t say I didn’t know what I was doing, because it felt like I knew exactly what to do. My body was moving all on its own. My hips thrust up and down over and over again. I had no control over my body. It was as if some outside force had taken complete control of me.
He sat up and bounced with my thrusts. As I pulled back, he rose up. As I thrust in, he dropped down. His cock bounced and slapped against his belly with each thrust. We were in perfect synchronization. The slapping of his buttcheeks against my hips continued, but the sound of his cock slapping against his belly had stopped. He was jerking himself off while he rode me. That sight did it. I couldn’t take it anymore. The heat, the tightness, and the relentless friction were all too much for me to bear.
“I’m gonna cum,” I warned. But it was too late by the time the words left my lips. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Fuck!”
My dick was pulsing and throbbing deep inside of him. As if his asshole wasn’t hot enough, the cum filling up my condom was even hotter.
I was still thrusting and shooting and writhing in waves of pleasure when something hot splashed on my face. I opened my eyes to see Marcello blasting load after load of hot cum onto me. He was covering my neck, chest, and finally my belly and his own fist. If he’d shot two tablespoons the first time I jerked him off, he’d doubled it this time. I don’t know how he had so much in him.
I slowed, but I couldn’t stop my thrusting into him. He kept one hand on his cock, milking out every last drop. But his other hand was straight-armed out to my side, just fighting to keep his balance and not drop onto me. I thought he was going to lose that battle, but as his breathing slowed, his strength seemed to return. He was still impaled by my cock, and it didn’t seem to want to soften anytime soon. I couldn’t believe how charged up I still was after all of that.
He leaned in to kiss me, careful not to press his chest into the mess he’d made on me. The kiss was soft and gentle and followed by several more. Then he sat up and wriggled his butt so he was firmly seated on my stiff cock.
“Sorry,” he said, still a bit breathless. “It looks like I made a pretty big mess here. I promised to take care of you tonight. Just stay here and I’ll clean this up.”
Then he gave me a tongue bath. He wasn’t systematic at all; he just started licking and swallowing his cum off me. I was still hard inside of him, and this wasn’t helping.
“Do you want to make me cum again?” I asked.
He moved up so I could pull out. My condom-covered dick slapped into the cum he’d left on my belly.
“Can you?” His devilish grin was back.
“If you keep that up, I will.”
“Okay.”
He pulled the condom off me and emptied the contents onto my chest. Then he licked that off. He didn’t stop. He’d lick the cum and then he’d suck my dick and then he’d lick more cum. By the time I was licked clean, I was ready to cum again. But Marcello decided to clean me up the easy way this time.
“Oh fuck! I’m cumming! Fuck!”
He didn’t take his mouth off me or let a single drop escape. In fact, he kept his mouth on my dick, sucking me off until I’d gone flaccid.
Then he came up to lie beside me and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. As my tongue explored his mouth, I tasted both of us mingled together. He pulled the sheet and blanket up around us, and we both quickly dozed. I had much to give thanks for today, and most of it was because of Marcello. Indeed, my devil had taken me to heaven.
I AWOKE in the middle of the night. Something was wrong. There was no strong, warm body wrapped around me, or in my arms, or anywhere within my reach. What moonlight there was shone through the large double-hung window silhouetting a muscular, naked body. Marcello sat on the sill, staring out to the moon, clearly lost in his thoughts. I wondered what could possibly be troubling him. I had fallen asleep happier than I’d probably ever been in my life—and it was all because of Marcello. I wanted everything to be right with him too.
In the stillness of the night, my whisper carried to him. “Marcello, what’s the matter? Why are you over there?”
He hung his head for a moment. He took a deep breath and turned to me. His face was just a dark outline. I couldn’t read his expression. Only a hint of moonlight caressed his cheek, enough for me to see he was struggling to find words.
“Gabriel, my angel. I love you so much. I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you. I would never….” His voice cracked. “Intentionally lie to you.”
I got up from the bed, dragging the sheet and blanket along with me. I kept the sheet wrapped around me and put the blanket over his shoulders. He kissed my hands and pulled the blanket around himself.
“I know, Marcello. I trust you. I’ve trusted you with my eternal soul. What more can I do?”
He turned his head away from me, and a tear glistened in the moonlight as it ran down his cheek.
“Please just listen to me and keep on trusting me.”
I nodded. While he was just a silhouette to me, I knew I was fully illuminated in the moonlight.
“I’m not a devil—not a real devil. Up until today—up until we were waiting for the car to pick us up—I thought you knew that. But when you asked me to keep it a secret, I realized that you really believed I was a devil.”
He reached his hand out to me, but I pulled away.
“Yes, you are.” My mind raced through everything I knew about him. “You came out of nowhere, and you wanted my eternal soul. You made someone die just so you could have a place to stay near me. You know everything about me and everyone else. What are you if you aren’t a devil?”
“I’m just a man,” he cried. “I’m as mortal and human as you.” He wasn’t just crying, he was sobbing now. “I thought that you knew. I thought you were just playing along with my Halloween prank. I never dreamed you’d really believe—”
“Believe what? The truth.” Now I was crying too. “I believe in God. You don’t think that I believe in the devil too?”
“Of course you do—but not here on Earth walking among us. That’s why I tried to explain to you about God’s love and how it included the evils in the world. I thought you shared my spirituality. I thought you understood me.”
I wrapped the sheet tightly around me and backed away.
“I do understand you. You tricked me. Gabriel, the silly naïve altar boy who will believe anything. You said you’d never lie to me. You said you’d never hurt me. But you did lie to me. You did hurt me.”
“I didn’t mean to, Angel.”
“Don’t call me that!” I yelled through my own tears. “I’m not an angel. I’m just a stupid fool who fell for your tricks.”
He stood and I backed away from him until I’d hit the bed.
“Stay away from me. Don’t come near me. You lied to me. You lied about everything.”
“No, I didn’t lie. I was only teasing you.”
“Well, I hope you and your buddies in hell have a good la
ugh over that one.”
I fumbled about in the dark, searching for something to wear. So many of my clothes had found their way to Marcello’s apartment over the last few weeks that I didn’t have to search too long.
“Gabriel, where do you think you’re going? It’s late.”
“I’m going home. Home where I belong—where I belonged all along.”
“Wait, don’t go. Let’s talk this out.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re a liar and I’m a fool. End of conversation.”
I must have bumped into every piece of furniture in the place as I stumbled in the dark, searching for the door. He followed me to the street with only a blanket wrapped around him. He called to me, but I wouldn’t answer. I’d run through the darkness, away from Marcello, and back to my dorm room before. This was the last time I’d ever have to do it again.
Chapter Nine
“GABRIEL, WE’VE got to stop meeting like this.”
Father Christopher knelt beside me. He’d bypassed his booth at the confessional and the short line forming for him to come directly to me. I had to look pretty pathetic with my tear-streaked face as I prayed and prayed for an answer.
I tried to speak, but no words would come out, and Father didn’t let even let me try. He placed a hand on my shoulder.
Quietly he said, “I’ll be done at three. Meet me in my office and we’ll talk then.”
That only made my tears flow more.
“Maybe you should wait in the garden until then, okay?”
I could only nod in agreement.
“Bless you, my child.”
“CLOSE THE door behind you and take a seat,” Father Christopher instructed.
I sat in the same place on his couch where I had before and noticed that a box of tissues was easily in reach, along with a bottle of water.
“I don’t think I really have to ask what this is about, do I?”
I shook my head.
“Marcello is a very nice boy. Don’t tell me anything that you feel uncomfortable about. I’m sure you can guess there are probably a few things I really don’t need to hear.” That actually sounded more like something my own father might say.
I had to know where Father stood, so I took a deep breath and launched into my line of questioning. “Do you believe that Jesus came to Earth to walk among us?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”
“And he was the son of God?”
He nodded.
“And there is a devil?”
“Where are you leading me, Gabriel?”
I took a deep breath. “If Jesus could come to Earth, why couldn’t the devil, or one of his disciples?”
“There are people on Earth who do very devilish things, but—”
“But it’s foolish to believe that you really met the devil.” My voice cracked. “Or fell in love with him.” I couldn’t stop my stupid tears. I grabbed a handful of tissues.
Once I’d composed myself Father asked, “Does this have something to do with Marcello?”
I nodded. I told Father about how we first met and that he’d appeared out of nowhere dressed as the devil and how he knew all about me. I told him that it was nearly Halloween and I thought he was just a guy, until he started doing devilish things. He made me question my faith.
“The thing he said that really stuck with me is: evil leads to good. That when evil things happen, it brings out the best in people.”
Father smiled. “It’s an interesting philosophy. That doesn’t surprise me coming from Marcello. He’s very bright.”
“He’s evil. He tricked me and kept on tricking me.” I told Father about the magic key and the woman who died so he could have a place to live on Earth. I barely took a breath as I went on about the Exit bar and getting drunk and waking up in Marcello’s bed. And about how he wanted my eternal soul—and I gave it to him.
I told Father everything, and he stopped interrupting me with questions. He just listened. When I was done, Father remained quiet and just looked at me sympathetically.
“And despite all of this, you still love him, right?”
I couldn’t give Father an answer. I nodded my head while the tears flowed again.
He handed me more tissues and waited until I had composed myself before he spoke. “I’ve known Marcello nearly as long as I’ve known you.”
That surprised me and it completely stopped my tears.
“Trust me, Marcello is not a devil. He can be more than a little mischievous, and he likes to have fun. I’ve heard many a story in my confessional, which I can’t repeat to you. But I also have quite a bit of public knowledge that maybe you should know.”
“Like what?”
“Marcello is an only child. His parents divorced when he was twelve, and he stayed with his mother. When his father remarried, he wanted Marcello to come live with him, but Marcello couldn’t, or wouldn’t leave his mother alone. So he lived with his mother until she died last year.”
“Last year!”
“Almost to the day. It was around the holidays, and she was hit by a drunk driver.”
I gasped.
“Does that sound familiar, Gabriel?”
My heart was pounding, and the tears stung at my eyes again.
“Marcello came to me for answers and sat in the very spot where you’re sitting. He didn’t like the answers the Church had to offer. He went off to study on his own, and he found a number of different philosophies that he shared with me. I don’t mind telling you he made me question my faith too. You’ve made me question my faith again.”
“How could I? You’re a priest.”
“I’m just a man. A mere mortal just like you and Marcello. I make mistakes. I’m not infallible and neither is the Church or the Bible.”
“So where am I supposed to go for answers if you don’t have them?”
“Quit looking outside, Gabriel. You need to look inside of your own heart. If I say something that rings true to you, then accept it. But if it doesn’t seem right, you don’t have to follow blindly. God gave you a brain to think for yourself. Marcello has found a faith that rings true to him. He’s found comfort there. If anything he says brings you comfort and feels like your truth, then accept it.”
“Why didn’t you?” He looked away from me when he heard my question. “If what the Church and your parents told you didn’t ring true, why’d you do it anyway?”
He sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap. I thought he might be praying for an answer. I waited for him to be ready to tell me. When he finally looked up he said, “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Sometimes it takes something evil to bring out the good in people. I can’t change anything from my past, but I can share my past and hope others will learn by my mistakes. You have so much good in you, Gabriel. You are more trusting and faithful than I am. You need to trust yourself.”
I RAPPED on the window to the multipurpose room and my mother looked up from her iPad and came to slide open the door.
“Well, twice in one week. To what do I owe the honor?” she asked. “Don’t you have church?”
“I came right after mass. Is Dad around?”
She looked a bit disappointed and went back to the table to pick up her iPad.
“He’s golfing. It’s Sunday. I’d hoped you came to see me.”
“Actually, I did. But if Dad was around, I wanted to talk to him too.”
“Really? Well, it must be important. Can I get you something to drink—or eat? I have leftover turkey. I can make you a sandwich.”
“Why do mothers always offer food for comfort?”
“Because it works so well,” she said while opening up the refrigerator and pulling out a few things.
While she worked on my sandwich she asked, “So what’s on your mind?”
“Am I too trusting? Do I just blindly believe everything people say?”
Mom was careful with her answer. “You tend to only see the good in people. I think that you just have mo
re faith than all of the rest of us.”
“Is that why you let me be an altar boy?”
She thought for a moment before handing me my sandwich and answering. “I suppose it is. Well, that and I hoped you’d find some friends your own age. You were always such a loner. Matt and Luke hated church. We’d told them that they could decide for themselves if they wanted to keep going once they turned sixteen. They were quick to opt out. But when you became an altar boy, they started to come back.”
“Am I the only guy in the family who still goes to church every week?”
“The rest of them don’t even make it for holidays. And I’m ashamed to admit that your dad and I don’t go like we should.”
I never saw my parents at church anymore, so I already knew what “like we should” meant.
“I just remember that our whole family went together and we knew so many people at church. It was like they were all our family too.”
“Mostly, but you were young. You didn’t really know everything that went on at the church. And Father Bramble and I never really got along.”
“Nobody gets along with him very well,” I admitted. “But I was an altar boy until I was sixteen. I wasn’t exactly a kid then. I saw things.”
“You weren’t exactly an adult either. There are things that happen right in front of your eyes that you can’t understand until you’ve had a little life experience. And even with that, sometimes adults can be deceived.”
I wondered if she knew more about Marcello than I thought.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Let’s just say that if it weren’t for Father Bramble you wouldn’t be here.”
My eyes went wide, and she slapped my hand.
“Not like that!” She laughed while shaking her head. “Never. What I meant is that—” She hesitated. “I want you to know that I love you very much and so does your dad and all of your brothers and sisters.”
“Okay, this doesn’t sound good at all.”
“It’s not really bad. Your dad and I decided that four children were more than enough. Sure, your dad has a great job, but we weren’t going to be like that crazy family on television with like a hundred kids. So, I went on the pill.”
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