My Epiphany SeXStoRY

It was a cold, wild morning in January. Tough to get out of my warm bed while it was still dark. I rubbed the sl**p from my eyes, washed hurriedly, dressed, grabbed my coat and wooly cap and went out into the wind. Time enough for breakfast when I got back. The wind howled. A lonely rusty gate swung and slammed somewhere down the deserted street. I rushed around the corner and up the hill to the church. In the sacristy dressing room it was warm. I hung up my coat and hat and changed into my surplice and soutane. I liked the smell of them, the hard clean white cotton of the surplice and its intricate embroidery, the sleek, almost silky blackness of the long soutane that came down to my ankles. I looked into the sacristy and saw that the priest was already fully robed, waering a large embroidered green chasuble. I loved the mysterious names of the garments that we learned when we practised laying them out. The Surplice - a decorative white tunic worn over the cassock. The stole, a long, narrow strip of cloth dr**ed around the neck, a vestment of distinction, a symbol of ordination.The alb - the common garment of all ministers at the eucharist, worn over a cassock. The chasuble, the outermost sacramental garment of priests and bishops, often quite decorated. His was emerald green with a large embroidered gold celtic cross the full front of the garment. As was the custom I entered quietly and stood by the door that led to the alter, waiting for his signal. He seemed not to notice me, concentrating on muttering a Latin prayer as he faced the mirror. He turned, picked up the silver symborium that contained the hosts and was dr**ed in embroidered cloth. He paused as he passed me and said "What feast is it today, boy?" I didn't know. I was surprised by the question and hesitated, red faced. "It's the Epiphany, you stupid boy, he said, glaring down at me. Never forget that!" He strode out onto the altar, a few old women made up the congregation, and I served as he recited the Latin version of the mass. Twenty minutes later, it was over, we bowed to the altar and processed off, him behind me. Outside the dawn was beginning and streaks of light were to be seen in the dark sky. As I headed to change and go home he called to me. "Wait". I stood by the wall and as he disrobed and polished the empty syborium, he asked me several religious knowledge questions. Finally he came over to me, now wearing his long black soutane ad collar, his street clothing. "And what feast is this?" he said. "The Epiphany" I said, pleased that I remembered. He smiled and said "The boy learns from me!" "Do you know what an epiphany is?" he asked. "Something to do with the three wise men?" He laughed and said "Not bad. It is the manifestation of the godhead in a human form, and also it is the sudden comprehension of the larger essence or meaning of something. Once there is an epiphany, a thing never looks the same again to you." "Do you understand now?" he asked. "Not really", I said, confused by all of his big words. "I will show you an epiphany" he said. He unbuttoned his soutane carefully from the chest level down, and I saw that he was wearing a whire shirt underneath. He opened the lowed buttons of the shirt and opened hi garments, baring himself to me. He was standing before me, about two feet away. He was a tall man, 6 foot 2 and I was at that time only about 4 foot 6. I was looking at the first adult penis I had ever seen. I was amazed at how long and thick it was, how hairy the tuft of hair behind it. "Have you ever seen such a thing?" he asked softly. "No" I said. "Take it in your handS." Fascinated by its size in comparison with my boyish little whang, and a little nervous, I felt it. It was warm, thick, but as i held it, it began to swell and harden, until it was fully erect, raging, curved and enormous. "Pull the skin back" he said I obeyed and watched as an enormous purple glans emerged from his foreskin as I tugged it. Now rub it up and down, he instructed. Fascinated, I obeyed, following his commands to speed up and watching the eyes of his glans open and close with each stroke, feeling the spongy hardness of the shaft, not bone but like the springiness of wood. "That's good boy" he said, panting now s he spoke, his breath coming hard in short intakes. Suddenly he groaned and his cock started to buck in my hands, the glans seemed to get even more swollen and then hot spurts of thick hot creamy liquid started to fly out of it, landing on my hands, and on my soutane. There was a pungent odour too. Instinctively I kept stroking as if to ensure he was drained. I felt the raging hardness leave him, as his cock returned to normal. My fingers were soaked with the sticky gloop. I wanted to wash them but he said "Smell your fingers." I sniffed the manly strong odour. "Now taste them" he said. I licked tentatively and to my surprise found a sweeter flavour than I expected. Now he scooped a large dollop of semen from my hair - I hadn't noticed it was there. It was on the tips of his two fingers, and he extended them to me saying "Body of Christ" "Amen" I muttered automatically. He fed the semen to me. I licked it from his fingertips and swallowed it. " Now you have witnessed and participated in an epiphany" he said. "Let this be our little secret. As I went home, it was full light, not as cold now as it had been before. Years later I would understand that at that moment I opened my horizons to manhood as well as womanhood. It was an expansion, not a replacement. It was, truly, as I have come to know and appreciate, my epiphany.