I was already apprehensive as I made my way through the church to the rooms where I knew our local vicar would be waiting. I had come to audition for the church choir, and he doubled as choirmaster in our parish. I didn't have a bad voice, and I had sung in choirs before, but not for a few years, so I was a little out of practice. If I made it through the audition, I knew there would be plenty of practicing to come, plenty of time spent in the church, with the other men and women who sang in the choir, getting the sound right for performance at the services during the week.
I knocked on the door to the vestry at one side of this old stone building.
"Come."
I pushed gently on the door and it creaked as it swung open. There was the vicar, sitting at a large wooden desk with his back to me, fully dressed in his black robes. Hymn and prayer books adorned the shelves which covered the walls.
"It's Jake Simpson," I said out loud. I was a fairly ordinary guy, and even my wife thought so. I was 28 with no children yet, married three years or so, and quite happily. I attended church with my wife regularly, but admittedly it was more because I had been brought up to do so, rather than through any true commitment. I was tall, with an average build, no six pack, but no large belly either.
The vicar rose slowly from his chair and turned to greet me. He beamed warmly, as I took in his large form. He was a big man, a little taller than me, black, and well built without being overweight. He walked towards me and extended a hand. I shook it firmly and he returned the gesture, squeezing back, but not too hard.
To tell you the truth I was a little in awe of Father Roberts. He had a deep booming voice when he preached, but he could be quiet and softly-spoken too. I was quite nervous as I remembered what I had come here to do.
"I've come for the choir audition, Father Roberts."
"Of course you have," he boomed. He switched to his soft and gentle manner: "Well let's get on with it."
He moved to close the vestry door.
"We don't want anyone disturbing us, do we." He smiled and I noticed a twinkle in his eye. He was certainly a charismatic man, and I relaxed inwardly at his friendly but lively manner.
Father Roberts walked across the room, sat at the piano, and began to play some chords.
"Just repeat the notes you hear and we'll go from there." The vicar continued playing, and I started to sing, again a little nervously.
"Can you go any louder?" he boomed again. I couldn't. I had never had a very strong voice, but I knew that I sang in tune.
He stopped playing for a moment and got up.
"You need to relax your belly and open up, then the sound will come, clearer and louder. Here let me show you how."
The vicar moved behind me and placed his large hand on my stomach. He pushed inwards.
"Now try and sing like that. Difficult isn't it?"
He relaxed his arm, patted my stomach a couple of times and then began to rub it in circles. His hand was warm, and I responded to his touch.
"You need to relax, as I said. All the way from your chest to your belly." He held his hand on my chest for a moment, then moved it downwards, stopping at my stomach once more. He put his other hand on my lower back and held it there.
"Now try and sing. Let the sound come out!"
I did and my voice did seem to be louder.
"We need more of that Jake. Here, watch me do it. Put your hand on my belly and feel what happens when I sing."
I did as he said once more. He stomach felt firm through his robes, and then began to move and vibrate as he started to sing. I have already said that he had a powerful voice, and his singing matched his speaking for clarity and volume.
"Now you try it, let your belly vibrate," he commanded. "Loosen your shirt a bit." He reached across and undid my top button, and pulled my shirt out from my trousers so that it hung out.
"Try again Jake." He then slid his hand under my shirt so that it rested on my bare stomach underneath.
"Now I really want to feel it."
His hand was warm and soft and smooth. He held it there, and I relaxed further under his gaze. His other hand was now on my lower back, also under the shirt and against my bare skin. It didn't seem quite right at first, but his influence overwhelmed me and I just went with it. The audition would soon be over afterall. I thought for a moment of my wife at home. I looked forward to going back to see her, before turning my attention once more to the singing.
"Now sing for me Jake, any notes you like," said Father Roberts. He held my stomach and lower back firmly, occasionally stroking across my bare skin. This was surely to help the relaxation, I thought to myself. At the sime time it did start to feel a little different. It began to feel good.
A strange well of excitement began to fill me up inside, beginning at the point where his hand touched my bare stomach. Suddenly I was finding it hard to sing clearly, and my voice was cracking a little. Then those strange feelings of excitement began to make their way lower, towards my groin, all by themselves. Certainly it was no intention of mine to be enjoying the vicar's touch in this way. I reasoned with myself for a moment: it would go away after a little while, and my singing voice would return. And then I felt a familiar stirring in my groin, and a heat permeating between my thighs.
"Lost your voice? Try again."
I was barely listening now. All I could feel was the warmth of the vicar's strong hands as they massaged my belly and back. By this time my cock was already half-erect, and making an embarassing tent in my trousers. I struggled to speak.
"Ahh, nnnoo, I think that's enough singing for today." My protest was a little pathetic, and I knew I had little control over what was happening.
"I think you are right Jake. You seem to be enjoying yourself though."
Father Roberts stood looking down at the tent in my trousers, smiling, but he kept on holding me. It was now more like a hug. I suddenly felt secure under his touch, and my cock continued to rise, the blood beating rapidly through it.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's quite natural to feel excited in this way under another man's touch. I can see you need taking care of, that's all." He was now speaking softly, yet somehow still forcefully.
Then he moved one hand from my belly, a little lower, and suddenly he was pushing inside the front of my trousers, and pulling the buttons open. Quickly kneeling, Father Roberts pulled my pants and trousers down, allowing my fully erect cock to spring free. I looked down. There was pre-cum oozing from the tip. He moved forward, opened his mouth, and slid it over the head.
"No, we can't. I'm married. Ooohh." I protested, then groaned, as he began to tongue the underside of my thick shaft. Instinctively, my hands reached out to grab his head, and he moved to take me deeper. His lips slid down the outside of my shaft.
"Ohh Father Roberts. Ughhh. Please stoooop, before I do something I...ooooh, yesss." I moaned as he sucked hard on my cock, withdrew his mouth to the tip, swirled his tongue around and around, then plunged back to the base, deep-throating me to my balls. I wasn't going to hold out much longer. He held onto my hips and moved his head back and forth. My hips began instinctively to buck and thrust against him. I was fucking his mouth and it felt so good. Here I was, with my wife waiting at home, having never been shown such pleasures by another man before, and I was being sucked oh so hard and so well by my vicar. The thought of it confused and excited me at the same time.
I continued to thrust as Father Roberts continued to suck. Then suddenly I could no longer stand it. I cried out and gave one final thrust towards the source of my pleasures. Then my balls tightened and the cum began gushing and spurting from the tip of my manshaft. The vicar kept his lips clamped tightly around me, sucking every drop of liquid spunk I could give him.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh, ooooohh Father Roberts, nnnoooooo." There was still a part of me protesting but it was a small part now, and I was enjoying this fabulous blowjob thorougly and completely, given to me by a man, no less.
The vicar pulled his lips from my now softening cock and got to his feet. He was breathing heavily and there was a strong intensity about him. He took my hand and placed it on his groin. I could feel his arousal immediately through his black robes, and a stiffness, throbbing beneath my hand. He tightened his hand shut over mine, which closed over the material covering his cock. I was reluctant once more, but a new curiosity was building inside me, along with further excitement. He was so hard beneath that cloth, and I found myself wondering what his stiff cock would look like. I hadn't seen another man fully erect before. I glanced down at his groin, the desire growing as I did so. He noticed my gaze.
"Ahhh, you want to see me now. That's ok Jake, it's nothing to be afraid of. I'll only give you what it seems you need right now."
Father Roberts quickly pulled open the buttons on his black robe, and parted it from his chest down to his stomach. I saw immediately that he wore nothing underneath, and his semi-nakedness was a sight to behold. He was no body-builder but his strength was evident from his build. And all smooth ebony. He lifted the skirt of his robe and pulled it off, revealing himself fully to me. His cock must have been a good eight inches long, thick, throbbing, veins bulging and glistening with precum.
