It was the summer of 1991 when I met my crush. I had never been a religious boy, but something drew me to that Church. My father insisted I start Sunday school and I could not go against his wishes. It was on the first day when I saw him. My eyes were immediately drawn to his olive, rough complexion. I was immediately hypnotized by his grey eyes. He was the local priest.
I attended Sunday school only to see father James. To hear his voice, to see his face and to be entranced by his eyes. One day while in my room, my father announced that he had invited father James for dinner. My heart immediately skipped a beat and I responded with a simple “okay.” After the night was over, father James was heading out and said he was going to call a cab home, he did have a few wine glasses after all. My father said that I could take him home. I immediately said yes and headed towards my car.
Once we arrived at father James’s house, I opened my mouth to say good-bye, but before I knew it, his lips were locked onto mine and we were kissing passionately. His tongue made his way into my mouth and he started to massage mine. I felt his warm breath on my throat as he bit me. A thousand chills made their way down my spine as father James kissed my neck with great intensity. I felt his erection through his robe and began to stroke his cock. I felt my penis become lubricated and nothing could stop me now.
Three months had passed and my affair with father James continued. I knew what we were doing was pure blasphemy, but I did not care. There was a great pleasure in sinning. He was a married man and we had to be extra careful. I snuck out of my house as usual to meet him at our normal place, the cottage behind the church. It was hidden by trees and forest and it was the perfect place to commit our treacherous acts.
Father James had just finished giving a sermon and was wearing his priest robes. He sat behind his desk with nothing but a lit candle, a book and his rosary clutched in one hand. I made my way to him and did not lose time in tasting his lips. I felt his erection growing against my thigh and he grabbed me by my hips and put me in his lap, never separating our lips. I began to unrobe him and kissed his bare chest. His chest hair smelled of man and lust. He took my clothes off and stroked my throbbing cock. I made my way in-between his thighs and grabbed his dick with two hands. I swallowed it with a loud moan. How I wanted it. How I wished to please my man, my father. He moaned as I licked his head and savored his delicious pre-cum. I sucked his cock like I had never before. There was nothing but our moans echoing in the night. Nothing but the moonlight shining through the cottage and his crucifix hanging on the wall. I stroked his dick and sucked his head. His moans grew louder and I knew he was ready to release. I felt the familiar warm, bitter taste in my mouth. He exploded with pleasure and released his load onto my mouth. I swallowed like the good boy I was and made eye contact. He looked satisfied and I knew I had done my job.
It was well over 2 decades and no one had seen, or heard of Dita. Her infamous Sex Book was the only thing that remained of her controversial persona. Things were soon going to change.
One a cold and snowy winter day, the streets of New York City raged with life and movement, like any other night. Billboards, stop lights, and cars lit up the city. New York was, after all, the city that never sleeps. It was on the 5th avenue, however, that things were out of the ordinary. 5th avenue was filled with Nightclubs, where most of the people were either drunk or on drugs. The avenue seemed to always smell of cigarettes and liquor and was popular among the young crowd at NYC.
As 2 am drew nearer, the street seemed awfully calm. Perhaps most people had stayed home because of the cold. A woman had appeared in the distant. She was very slim and attractive. She wore black, studded stilettos, a leather mini skirt, a couture fur coat, and and an eye patch. Her 12 inch, platform stilettos made holes in the snow as she strutted down 5th avenue. She walked with an elegance and a presence that was unique.
She finally stopped in front of a cabaret called “Deeper and Deeper.” She had been planning this moment for some time now. She entered the cabaret and was greeted wit the smell of smoke, and banging club music. Topless women were dancing on a stage, and drunk men were throwing dollar bills at them. The place had an eerie lighting and was quite large. Small, round tables were lined up in front of the stage with matching stools. A bright pink neon sign on top of the stage read “Deeper and Deeper.”
She walked to the bar and told the bar tender in a sexy and seductive voice, a “Sex On The Beach” please. The bartender looked at her and froze. She gave a flirty smile revealing a gold tooth. The bartender then exclaimed, “Dita!”
—-Betushko
