Senegal Surrender

I was still struggling with myself when he came out of the water, flopped down beside me, and reached for my cock. Turning all thoughts off from what I should do, I lay there, stretched out, beside him, taking his cock in my hand as well, and we masturbated each other to a mutually timed ejaculation, after which he rolled over on top of me, taking my breath away as he pinned me to the elephant grass matting under me, and, for the first time, covered me with kisses, as I reciprocated.

As he regained his vigor, which didn't take the young, virile bull long, he stood, bringing me up with him, draped my body in front of his, facing away from him, his cock up my ass channel, holding me in a bear hug, with me wrapping my legs around his thighs and digging my ankles into his calves, as he fucked me to another of his ejaculations.

He was on top of me, between my bent legs, kissing me on the mouth, and fucking me deep in a missionary position, when darkness overtook us and, at last, I realized that this glorious day was over—a day that I would have to put out of my mind; a day that I would have to scourge myself raw for in seeking penance.

I pulled out from underneath him then and stumbled back to the Land Rover, riddled with guilt, no less than because I was totally satiated with having been repeatedly sodomized anally in the eyes of my church. Jakab, thankfully, didn't follow me. Somehow we both would need to forget that this happened, I thought, and I would need to seek penance.

Malik and Idrissa were waiting beside the Land Rover, knowing what Jakab and I had been doing, probably very pleased with themselves for having brokered that.

I wouldn't forget it anytime soon, though, I knew as I climbed into my bed that night. My back was raw from my having knelt in front of the altar in my bedroom, murmured my sins, and struck myself on the back again and again with the many-strands hand whip with the knotted ends. I moaned as I turned to my side, unable to sleep on my back.

And I knew I could not forget what had happened, when I heard and felt the springs of the bed complain as the massive naked body of Jakab stretched out, facing me, and, as his lips went to mine, his hand docked our cocks, his foreskin pulled over my bulb, the tips of the two bulbs caressing, as he stroked me to a burbling flow with the sheath of his foreskin.

"Please, please, I want you to fuck me, but I can't, I just can't. My faith, I—"

"I've already fucked you, and I'm going to do it again," Jakab responded. "I've made you come; I've given you release. I am not sodomizing you tonight, though. Isn't that what the bishops have been telling you not to do? I did it this afternoon, as my reward and as a humbling concession to your need for you, and I feel that your back is raw from your penance for that. We are at a new beginning. I will take you in other ways but sodomy now and you can make peace with yourself while still finding release."

I sighed as he drew us closer, forcing his long, thick cock between my closed thighs and beginning to stroke, as he reached between us, fisted my cock, and masturbated me.

"Like this, nearly every night," he murmured. "No penetration. No sodomy. But repeated release."

* * * *

"Yes, I know your sin," Bishop Jawara said when I visited him for confession and consultation in his office the next day. I stood just inside the French window out onto a balcony, not able to be seen from the outside but looking at seminary students walking across a quad. I found I was unable to face the bishop. "Yes, I sent Jakab to you, Brother Gordon—just as Bishop Dominic sent you to me. We are a liberal sect, taking a literal interpretation of sodomy, but you wanted your bishop to cross that line. You have had to learn the difference between sodomy and pleasurable release of tension. Jakab has been a means for showing that to you. When you were sodomized by him—by one-time dispensation—you rightly saw that as sin, and your self-punishment penance for that was proper. What Jakab said he did with you last night is within acceptable bounds—there was no penetration yet I think you found that there was sufficient release. Bishop Dominic and I are asking you to just not take it farther than Jakab did last night. Do you understand?"

"I'm beginning to," I answered. And I was. I didn't flinch as I felt his presence now close behind me. He was reaching around and gathering my cassock up around my waist. As he pushed my briefs down, and I stepped out of them, I realized that he was naked, his hard cock pressing at the base of my spine. I whimpered at the thought of what was happening.

"And do you understand that I am asking you to do that with me now and then with Bishop Dominic when you return to New Orleans? Far enough for pleasure and release, but no farther?"

"Ah."

"Fear not," he whispered. "There will be no penetration. No sodomy by our sect's interpretation. Penetration is not required to give either of us release and peace." One of his hands went to my cock and the other one to my chin, cupping it pulling my head back and turning it so that we could kiss.

His hard cock slipped into my crack, between my buttocks, the underside against my entrance, rubbing up and down inside the crack. I understood that it would continue to do so until the bishop ejaculated and that his stroking of my cock with his hand—coupled with the arousal his attentions brought—would bring me to completion too. I was to stand here, in his embrace, until we both had had our pleasure and release. And I now understood that there would be no penetration, that, according to the unrecorded tenets of my sect what the bishop did with me would not be sodomy, and therefore, I would not have to do penance for what I now was enjoying.

I would try, and I hoped it would be enough. But I'd had more from men—so much more.