Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

Philip crept in through the back door of John Purnell's townhouse on Orange Avenue. The rest of the family was at evening mass at St. Mary Basilica. But John was home, upstairs, in bed, too weak to attend mass.

He moved silently up the stairs and to John's bedroom. Purnell was lying on his back in the heavy four-poster bed, breathing shallowly, his eyes gazing up into the canopy of the bed, not really focusing on anything. He flinched at the sound of DuCarde entering the room, but he didn't look down. He was barely moving at all, as if it would take all of the strength he had to turn his head.

"It is I, Philip, come to give you rest."

"Philip?" Purnell whispered. "Ah, Philip."

"You wish me to put you to peace, don't you?" DuCarde asked in the low, smooth, soothing baritone of his seeking voice.

"Yes, oh yes," Purnell answered, his voice quiet, resigned.

Philip walked to the bed and looked down at Purnell. He reached over Purnell's legs, grasped the hem of his night breeches, and pulled them off, leaving Purnell naked. His body was once robust; now it was thin, close to emaciation. He was a handsome young man still, though.

DuCarde carefully stripped off his own clothes, folded them, and laid them on a chair within reach. He placed his hands on Purnell's legs as he whispered, "Look at me, John."

With effort, Purnell looked down the length of his body and took in the magnificent naked body standing at the foot of his bed. DuCarde was in full erection.

"Do you want me to give you my peace, John? Say it. This is the reckoning time."

"Yes, Philip, oh yes. Take me away. Fuck me to paradise." Purnell now too was hardening.

DuCarde came up onto the bed, slowly, deliberately raising and spreading Purnell's emaciated legs as he moved up between them.

Purnell gasped and gave a little jerk as DuCarde pressed the bulb of his cock at Purnell's entrance, moved inside, and then pressed in to the hilt. He held Purnell's legs, bent, against his sides while he established a slow rhythm of the fuck.

Purnell looked up into DuCarde's face through glassy eyes. "Yes, Philip, yes."

DuCarde leaned his torso down toward Purnell's chest and covered the young lawyer's lips with his, pressing his tongue inside. Purnell sighed for him. A hand came up to Purnell's head, the fingers lacing themselves into his hair, pulling his head to the side and stretching his neck out. DuCarde came out of the kiss, lifted his face from Purnell's and smiled benignly down at the other man. His mouth opened in a smile. His incisors gleamed and showed large and pointed.

Purnell sighed and gave a little moan, his arms lifting with great effort and embracing DuCarde's broad back, as DuCarde lowered his face to Purnell's extended neck, licked the slightly throbbing vein there for a brief moment before the teeth sliced into the vein and the sounds of sucking began.

Purnell moved his body against DuCarde's, his hands pressing and releasing on DuCarde's shoulder blades, in weak rhythm to the rising and falling of DuCarde's hips, the plowing of his cock, the sucking sounds of the draining of the blood. He sighed, and weakly whimpered. "Yes, take me to heaven, Philip. I see the light; I hear the music."

His head flopped over to the side and his cock released a small spurt of cum as DuCarde ejaculated deep in his channel and lifted his head and howled to the canopy of the bed above him.

Purnell was breathing in very shallow, off-rhythm pants as DuCarde pulled his sleeping breeches back up his legs, dressed, and stole out of the room and the house.

* * * *

God, he was big, and going deep. Showing me no mercy. Crueler than he'd been in the carriage, able to reach deeper. God, I was loving this. I was on his bed—at Evernew—on my belly, buttocks raised on trembling knees, as, covering me close, trapping my arms above my head by gripping my wrists, he took me in long, hard, thick thrusts.

I had reached Evernew after dusk, brought by the carriage he'd sent for me in Natchez, both of us knowing I would come to him. The carriage had come to me in mid-afternoon, not long after I was back from conducting the funeral for John Purnell, and while I was rereading John's obituary in the newspaper. Some sort of wasting disease, the report said. Nothing more specific than that. Just like my father, although taken by it quicker. I had seen the hand of death on him that night at the opera.

Then I heard the carriage stop outside the rectory, the doorbell chime, and Mrs. Roberts bringing me the note of summons. It had told me to pack a bag and come at once.

"The return of an important family to the parish," I told Mrs. Roberts. "They must be made welcome. A very wealthy family. I will be gone at least for the night."

She had readily understood and helped me quickly pack, sending me off at the doorstep with a smile and a wave. I hoped she hadn't seen how badly I was trembling as I entered the carriage.

I entered the house at Evernew in the dark. The house was only dimly lit by candlelight. Philip met me at the top of the stairs. He was naked, his body gloriously muscled and proportioned, his dark body hair covering his chest, belly, thighs, arms, and groin in artful curls. An animal, a wolf, ready to do animal coupling. Animal coupling with me. Primeval. Nothing but lust and need. He met me at the top of the stairs, pulling me close to him, grabbing the hair on the back of my head and arching my head back, painfully. His mouth possessed mine, forcing mine open, his tongue going deep. Pulling the tongue out he growled and bit my lip, drawing blood. Despite the involuntary yelp, I was grasping his bare buttocks with my hands, holding him close to me, feeling the hardness of him. I was already panting hard when he told me to go to his bed, strip, and lay on my belly.

When he came down on top of me, his chest went down between my legs, his hands gripping my hips. Coaxing me to raise up a bit on my knees, his hands went to separating and squeezing my buttocks, and his mouth alternated between opening my entrance and pulling my cock through my thighs to suck it and my balls.

I was writhing under him, moaning, panting hard, and begging for him to be inside me when he went up on his knees between my spread thighs, worked his thick cock inside me, and began to pump. He brought the silkiness of his chest down on my bare back, and I turned my face to his for a deep kiss. He ran his fingers into my hair and pulled my head to one side. His tongue licked its way down my cheek and onto my throat where it ran lovingly down the vein popping out of my neck from my head being turned hard to the side.

I felt a prick at my throat, but most of my attention was concentrating on the mining of my passage by his impossibly thick and long cock, seemingly growing in possessing length and girth as he pumped me. A warm, sensual feeling overtook me—a feeling of well-being, of being in perfect harmony with the elements. I could feel the pulsing at my neck and hear the suckling sound, but it didn't alarm me. I was floating, feeling oh so sexy and well taken care of. I was moving my pelvis in consort with the thrusts of his cock, opening and closing my fists buried in the bedspread to the rhythm of the fuck.

I had never been fucked as divinely as this before. I sighed deeply and murmured, "Yes, yes, fuck me just like this. Fuck me to heaven."

Philip moved a hand under my chest. I sensed he wanted to turn me on my back and fuck me in another position. But then I heard him yelp and pull his hand away, like it had been burned. And as I saw it flash by, it did look singed. I couldn't really tell, though, in the dim light. He had pulled away from me and was off the bed. I saw his naked buttocks disappearing out of the door to the corridor as I sat up in bed. Instinctively, I reached for the gold cross that hung on a chain around my neck. It felt hot to my touch.

It felt like it was damning me. Of course I shouldn't be here, in a man's bed, being covered and fucked by a man, a man hirsute enough to give a delicious animalistic tinge to the coupling. I was a priest. This was one of the worst sins I could be performing.

But he was so compelling, so arousing—so much the natural animal performing naturally. I couldn't help myself. I slipped the cross necklace off my neck, left the bed, and tucked it into the pocket of my breeches. That wouldn't damn me while I was here. My eyes found the clerical collar, though, gleaming white. Pure, chaste. A purposeful symbol. A promise I had not, could not fulfill. That too I tucked away in a pocket.

I lay back on the bed, my legs bent and spread, pillows under the small of my back, ready and willing in anticipation for Philip's return. He didn't return that night, though. I waited, awake for more than an hour, moving a hand from my shimmering cock to my neck, where it felt like I'd been stung and was warm to the touch. Then back to my cock, encasing it, stroking it, dreaming of the euphoric world I'd been in while Philip was fucking me, a sensation of contentment and satiation as I'd never felt before from a man between my thighs, a monster cock inside me, growing and thrusting, thrusting and growing. I gave up my seed in three long arcs and, with a sigh, drifted off to sleep.