Banishment

Both men were naked, both of them had beautiful bodies, the beauty of which was enhanced in how they were working together as one unit. Ebony-skinned Tom was bowed over, feet and hands buried in the ferns under a creeping-rooted Cypress tree next to a bog, his tail held high. Taller, milk-chocolate-skinned Frank was plastered to his back, draped over him. Frank’s feet were planted beside and outside of Tom’s feet, and his fists were gripping Tom’s wrists. His chest was pressed into Tom’s shoulder blades, his face into the hollow of Tom’s throat. He was fucking Tom’s ass in long, slow slides. Tom’s eyes were set in a glassy stare, showing the pain-pleasure of what I could see was a long, thick, jet-black cock working his passage. His mouth was slack open in an expression of sheer pleasure and submission.

I watched for a moment, lost in the beauty of the tableau—what I’d been determined, when I came here, to understand as a sin that I was to shake in my own life and that I was enduring penance here for having indulged. The natural, primeval way these two men were engaged in it, though, and in a simple, honest setting such as this challenged both the ideology-based prejudices I was attempting to acquire to be right with my church and my resolve. I was particularly mesmerized by seeing that, although of light-chocolate skin tone from his mixed heritage, Frank’s hung cock was jet black.

I couldn’t help but shudder in arousing pleasure as I watched the huge shaft move in and out of Tom’s hole.