Holy Spunk

As Irish grunge band, The Fecking Skypilots, had sung my lullaby, so Australian skunge singer, Jezzibella Trollope, crooned me awake. I groaned and made for the shower. No hot water! Typical of this place. While fixing breakfast I discovered my fridge was milkless. Again! Just when I thought the day could not possibly get any worse there was a knock at the door.

“Got any milk, Irma?” asked Alexi sweetly. “I seem to have run out.”

“Great minds think alike!” I snapped and slammed the door.

Immediately there was another knock.

“What?” I demanded.

“Um,” she said nervously, scratching her new tattoos, “you know, I’ve seen you around and, um,” she faltered and cleared her throat. “Would you, um.”

Just then, the guy who lived opposite emerged from his flat holding his eight year old daughter’s hand and a can of beer.

“Alright,” he mumbled and staggered off on the school run with the little girl stumbling behind him.

Empty beer cans littered the floor. I raised my eyes back to Alexi who shyly looked down.

“Oh nothing,” she said, blushing, and quickly returned to her flat.

I rolled my eyes and breathed deeply. The day just had to improve. Had to. I had my rendezvous with Beau later, but I needed to venture out first to the shops.

The acid rain teemed down from the patch of leaden sky visible between Deckard House and the neighboring tower blocks, but failed to wash away the heaps of detritus littering every corner of the sidewalk. Beggars harassed me at every turn, junkies zapped out in doorways groaned to themselves, people staggered across my path with blood trickling from their nostrils and everything I saw made me quicken my steps. No reason to linger in this purgatory. Some of these poor bastards hadn’t even the money to afford the cheapest of Net connections and were thus deprived of the escape that allowed people like me to stay sane in this dying world.

On my return I showered, changed and ate before making for my bedroom and the laptop. I had been thinking of Beau all morning and I was tingling in anticipation of seeing him again. When the time we had appointed finally came I lay on the bed, dropped some ‘zap and plugged myself in. Into the search window that popped into existence before me I typed ‘beau.com’ using the virtual keyboard. Reality flickered out of existence for a few seconds leaving me in a strange limbo of sensory deprivation. The words ‘Loading…please wait’ appeared in the blackness.

Suddenly I found myself on a wooden sailing ship looking out into a blue, choppy sea. The wind was filling the sails and the sun beat down. I turned and found myself alone. An unmanned ship! Spray from the waves wetted my shirt. I was still wearing the white silk shirt from yesterday and the same tight leather trousers that displayed my ample cock to the full. I felt slightly foolish and wondered if Beau had stood me up. Then I saw his small figure climbing down from the rigging. He was still wearing the straw hat set back on his head, but was now clothed in a blue dress which suited him perfectly. A blue ribbon was tied around the hat and fell against his beautiful long black hair. He wore black shiny high heeled shoes. He looked every inch the respectable young lady.

“Hey up!” he said and ran over to me. Every movement was feminine and graceful as a dancer’s.

We kissed. He was overjoyed that I had shown up.

“Did you make all this?” I asked.

“Mm hm. Even the mermaids.”

I looked back out to sea. There were indeed naked women sporting in the waves, seemingly confident of their swimming ability. Their scales glittered enticingly.

“It’s a great way to start a journey of discovery, aye?”

“You’re amazingly clever.”

“It’s not that great, actually,” said Beau, who then shrugged and clicked his fingers.

A red telephone booth sprouted from the deck.

“After you,” he said.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!”

I entered the booth and made room for my friend in the cramped space. As the door shut I heard a brief hiss and my ears popped. Beau lifted the receiver, dialled, hung up, gave me a wink and wrapped his arms around my waist. I loved the feeling of his cheek pressed against my chest and his tummy against my crotch. The waves rose high all around the ship, plunged onto the deck and engulfed the booth, smashing the ship to splinters and leaving us drifting in the bizarre air tight container. We spun in the turbulent undercurrents. The mermaids swam around us, waving and teasing us by fondling their breasts and waggling their tongues.

“So where are we going?” I asked Beau.

He giggled and said nothing. Eventually the booth came to rest on a hard surface. The water receded impossibly quickly and leapt into a crater nearby to form a lake. The sun shone again, only slightly paler. The land around us had dried instantly. Beau pushed the door and cool, fresh air entered the booth. We stepped onto a cobbled sidewalk and left the booth where it fitted into its surroundings perfectly. The street was most quaint with detached cottages all decorated with baskets of flowers. At the other end a small needle spired church was tolling its bell. There was no traffic and the indifferent song of finches filled the air.

A young woman with a prominent nose and dressed in a smart black skirt suit greeted Beau familiarly and asked him in a genteel English accent if he thought it would rain. A similar looking teenaged boy accompanied her. It was unclear to me if he was her son or brother.

“Definitely not,” Beau answered the woman cheerfully.

“Funny,” said the woman, “I thought I felt a splash minute ago.”

Beau shook his head innocently.

“By the way,” continued the woman, “it was so kind of you to ask Father Cruise to start a Sunday school for the children.”

“Think nowt of it,” said Beau modestly.

The woman turned to continue on her way to church, but then glanced back at me. She gawped and scowled. She tutted at Beau disapprovingly and hurried on with the boy’s hand in hers. Beau gave me an apologetic look.

“They’re not used to seeing someone like you here.”

I was unsure what he meant. We found a wooden bench and sat while more parishioners walked to church.

I turned to Beau and said with perplexity, “Sunday school?”

He sniggered.

“Yeah. Why? Don’t you think it’s awfully nice here, duck?”

I snorted.

“It’s like a fucking graveyard with warmed up corpses!”

Beau pretended to look offended. I could tell he was planning something. I was drawing more uncomfortable, not to say resentful, looks from passers by. I suddenly realised it was the ethnicity of my avatar that must be upsetting them. Everyone else here was white. He took my hand, so large against his, and placed it in his lap. He looked so cute in his dress, so completely like a beautiful debutante. The brim of his hat pushed his ears forward so that they stuck out slightly. His eye lashes were long and curled upwards. He reminded me of Jenny Agutter in ‘The Railway Children’.

He stroked my index finger and I began to feel strangely aroused. He caressed me up and down my finger, circling around the tip, then running his fingers up to the knuckle, delicately and lovingly. He lifted my hand to his mouth and began to suck on my finger. My excitement grew quickly. I gazed at his body, so slim and lovely in the dress. His creamy pale legs were crossed and he squeezed his thighs together tightly. He was becoming aroused too just from the feel of my finger in his mouth. I could tell by the small bulge in his lap. His red lips pouted around my finger as it worked in and out. He closed his eyes. He was in raptures as I fingered his lips. He held my hand and forced me into him more deeply. I moaned, feeling an incredible amount of pleasure building in my fingertip. Beau began spasming and a sticky white substance erupted from his throat to squirt onto my hand, onto my arm and down the front of his dress. The smell of hot semen filled the air. A second later my finger ejaculated into his mouth. I groaned and grunted while Beau swallowed my cum. We both sat back gasping, smothered in semen and swimming in sweat.

Eventually I looked around and found the street almost deserted. The bell was still tolling. In the distance I saw a couple hurrying to the church, casting glances behind them. Beau made a quick gesture and we were both suddenly clean and cum free.

He patted me, jumped up and said, “Come on then, or we’ll miss the service.”

He dashed off and as I followed I admired the way he had mastered walking in high heels. His hips, though flat, swung like a woman’s. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me. We arrived at the church holding hands and found space on a pew at the front. As we walked down the aisle through the already seated congregation we drew looks of shock and dismay. Indeed some actually left, apparently in disgust at the sight of a black man. There was not one face amongst them darker than evaporated milk. Some of them had no doubt witnessed our little coitus on the bench.

It being a Catholic church there was a crucifix above the altar and a statue of the Virgin to the side, just in front of where I sat. I glanced at the Madonna’s doe eyes and was startled to see how lifelike they were. When I regarded the figure of Christ on the cross I could have sworn I saw Him wink at Beau.

The priest with his Hollywood idol features and his cherubic alter boys in tow appeared and the service began. Soon I was in danger of falling asleep. It was only Beau’s secret caresses that held my interest. After what seemed an age we all stood to mumble an ‘Our Father’.

Father Cruise then spread his arms and declared, “Let us offer each other a sign of peace.”

People all around us turned and shook each other’s hands. Beau eagerly participated, though some seemed reluctant to comply. No one accepted my offer. As we sat down again I felt deeply resentful with all around me and wondered why Beau had dragged me to this awful place. He squeezed my arm. He had noticed my irritation. He uncrossed his legs and looked away from me and suddenly seemed to find something on the other side of the alter fascinating

I noticed a twitching in his skirt. He parted his knees and a pink, bulbous object appeared between them. It grew in length and curved around his knee until it was pointing its singular eye at me. It was growing at an amazing rate. This surprising sight gave me an erection that pushed so hard against my pants that two buttons popped off and flew at the alter boys. My fly burst open and my moist, precum leaking helmet broke free from my pants in the same way a grotesque alien had once burst from John Hurt’s chest. Father Cruise could not help but stare at our lengthening organs. I shrugged and tried to look casual. My helmet spiralled upwards, groping the air like a flower in a time lapse film. Beau’s slim pink cock found my thick dark one and began to snake around it like a creeping plant. Mine was irresistibly drawn towards him and was soon sliding up the inside of his bare thigh.

Father Cruise coughed and continued mumbling his way through the service, nudging the hypnotised boys every time he required something of them. So far no one else seemed to have noticed the amorous antics in the front pew.

Beau had slid his cock into my pants through the fly and it was pushing its way down to my asshole. I twisted around to allow him to penetrate me while he turned to me, put his arm around me and guided me inside him with his free hand. Our cocks both grew that extra inch simultaneously and shot up into our anuses. We began to fuck each other passionately.

It slowly became clear to the congregation that something untoward was up. People at the back were standing and craning their necks to get a better view while others were storming out, shouting racist abuse. The altar boys were dragged out by their mothers, much against their will.

Beau’s lovely penis fucked me deeply, throbbing ardently in my bowels, while his tight bottom lovingly squeezed me. We both caressed each other’s twisting cocks which writhed like copulating eels. My orgasm erupted from the base and slowly travelled up my huge length towards Beau’s ass. Extreme pleasure burnt through the long shaft, pushing further with each throb until my semen spurted inside him. He held me tightly, pressing his cheek against my back, while he moaned and cried with every spasm of his distended organ. Eventually, after his length was filled with sweet hot cum, giving him an incredible amount of pleasure, his spunk burst from his helmet and flooded my asshole. We continued fucking and kissing until our final throbs had died. Slowly our turgid cocks shrank back to their normal size and slithered back between our legs and out of sight. Then we looked up to find we had a congregation of our own.

“You’re gonna burn in Hell!” cried someone from the back, but most people, including Father Cruise, were staring at us avidly, apparently waiting for more.

The experience of fucking before a congregation was a new one to me, but having such a perfect body allowed me to put aside my inhibitions. I looked questioningly at Beau and he pointed at the figure of Mary who stood before us on a plinth beside a pillar with her arms open invitingly. Her skin really was a remarkably authentic tint of pale brownish pink. Beau undressed and walked over to the altar which, to my amazement, he climbed and he lifted himself onto the crucifix with the ease of a trapeze artist. He pulled at the loincloth which fell away revealing the Divine Cock of Christ. And what a beautiful Cock it was! It sprang into action immediately. Somehow Beau managed to turn and press his ass against Jesus while he reached up and gripped His arms. He gripped the sides of the cross between his small feet and began to move his hips back and forth on His length. He ground himself against Jesus and moaned while his erection pointed Heavenwards.

Utterly stunned, it was a while before I realised that I was being eyed avariciously, but not just by the remaining members of the congregation. Other eyes, beautiful, sad doe eyes, were gazing at me with an incredibly deep, aching love. I wasted no time undressing and mounting the plinth. Everyone stood agape as Mary allowed me to lift the hem of her robe to reveal her stunning, naked body.

“It’s a miracle!” declared several.

She smiled up at me so sweetly I felt my erection smack against my belly. I lifted her robe over her head and flung it down among the congregation where they began fighting over it. Her long hair was a gorgeous nut brown and her eyes were deep pots of clear honey. She was holding her hands clasped tightly before her loins. I took them and gently placed them on mine. I pressed the head of my cock to her hirsute pudenda and raised one of her legs to allow me penetration. I encountered an obstruction of some kind and she winced. It took me a moment to realise I was about to fuck a virgin, The Virgin after all, and I would need to be simultaneously forceful and gentle. I held her full soft cheeks in my hands, kissed her tenderly and pressed myself slowly against her hymen. She cried out and I felt the hymen tear against my helmet. She trembled and tears sprang from her wide eyes, but she held me tightly and allowed me to enter her pussy. She was so tight it was quite an effort to penetrate her even just a couple of inches. I fondled her small breasts and stroked her wide hips while she lifted her leg and pressed her instep against my buttocks. Her soft body really felt amazingly good against mine.

“You fiends!” shouted someone from the back.

I heard Beau and Jesus grunting together, but Mary and I seemed to have drawn a larger congregation. I pulled out of her for a moment before sliding back inside. I managed to enter her more deeply this time and she responded by gripping and clawing my back.

“Vere profundus!” she moaned and bit my neck.

I lifted her other leg and began shagging her in earnest. She was so sweet and beautiful. Her tear streaked cheeks flushed and moistened even more with sweat.

“Vos es sic magnus!” she cried, sobbing with ecstasy.

“You’re so tight!” I complimented her, loving the feel of her pussy gripping me like a vice.

I felt something wet hit my back and realised people were pelting me with something. I could care less, bollock deep as I was in the Universe’s tightest snatch. I was fucking Mary so energetically now that her ass had ridden up the pillar and I was standing on tiptoe. I pulled her against me and her pussy slid all the way back down onto my cock. She gasped, wrapped her arms and legs around me and kissed me roughly. I felt her come so violently I was afraid I would slip backwards and fall off the plinth. I held her firmly as she shivered and shook in my arms. I pushed her against the pillar again, rammed my cock in her as deep as I could and spunked at the wall to her womb. She came again and her screams reverberated around the stone building. She babbled incoherently, foamed at the mouth and slipped off me. She fell at my feet in a quivering, blubbering heap.

I jumped back down to the floor and felt for the objects that had stuck to my back. They were plastic and sticky. Condoms. Used, spunk filled condoms. What the fuck were church goers doing with those?
Everyone turned their attention to the crucifix where Jesus and Beau were reaching their climax. More condoms had stuck to them. Jesus grunted, straining against the nails in His hands and feet. His eyes rolled up into their sockets and His crown of thorns slipped off. So turned on was Beau by the feeling of Jesus ejaculating inside him that he came without his own cock needing to touched. I stood below and caught all of his sweet spunk in my mouth. Although Beau shook back and forth, spattering his cum far and wide, I was able to catch every drop by dancing swiftly from one side of the altar to the other. He lifted himself off Jesus’ swollen, cum moistened Penis, turned and stood with one foot on the base of the cross where Jesus’ feet were nailed and with his other leg curled around Jesus’ thighs.

Beau kissed and fondled the Messiah, preventing His Erection from softening. Soon Jesus was rock hard again. Everyone jostled for position beneath the cross, desperate to catch some of the Divine Spunk. People pushed and shoved for a spot where they thought the Spunk would be most likely to fall. As Beau jacked off Jesus the first glob of Cum shot from the Cock of Christ high into the air and soared into the shadowed arches. It reappeared further back than people had anticipated and thus began a mass scramble over the first few pews. One large man was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time and caught the glob deftly in his gob. There was no time for admiration or consternation as Jesus had already fired off several more sticky wet love bullets which were now falling to where everyone had been crushed together before. I was lucky enough to catch one. Several women caught Cum in their hair. Beau wanked the Cock more vigorously and a deluge of Cum showered down upon us like a blizzard. Wet sticky flakes stuck to our bodies and clothes.

“The Body of Christ!” he intoned not so reverently.

“The Spunk of Christ!” Father Cruise shouted up to him, his cum drenched face a picture of unbridled joy.

Beau blew me a kiss.

“I told you I could make somewhere more fun!”

“You weren’t kidding!” I replied.

Eventually the Cum deluge eased off, though I suspected that was more from Beau’s hand growing tired than Jesus’ Balls lacking more Cum to ejaculate. The same wide eyed look of awe illuminated His bearded face, but now it was free from the look of suffering that always seemed to have troubled it. His saliva had frothed from the corner of His mouth and bubbles glistened on His beard. Mary, meanwhile, had stood down from the plinth and was kneeling on the floor, her hands pressed together at her breast in prayer, her face turned towards her Son.

“There they are!” shouted a woman’s uncouth voice from the entrance. “Get ’em now!”

Silhouetted against the light from the doorway stood several men and women holding a variety of gardening implements.

“Shit!” said Beau and began dressing.

I quickly pulled on my pants and shirt. Our Cum coated congregation quickly understood the situation and ran out through the door. The armed people ignored them, allowing them to exit unharmed. Then a hand spade sailed though the air and hit Mary on her shoulder. She winced, but continued praying.

“Hey!” I shouted angrily. “That’s Our Lady you just hit!”

“You can take ‘your lady’, you black monkey, and fucking well pimp her somewhere else!” shouted a gothic looking woman.

“But she’s the Mother of God!” I protested.

“Don’t you dare blaspheme, nigger!” shouted a smartly dressed gentleman. “Since when was the Mother of God naked? That ‘lady’ of yours is nothing but a common slut!”

Beau grabbed my arm.

“Come on!” he hissed. “And grab her too if you want to avoid seeing something nasty. They don’t seem to know who she is with her clothes off.”

He blew a kiss at the crucifix and waved.

“Thanks, Jeez, mate,” he called. “It was awesome!”

Jesus merely nodded, shagged out as he was from Beau’s ravishment of him, not to mention the nine inch nails buried in his flesh.

I cast about for Mary’s robe but found only one or two shreds of blue material. The vultures had obviously grabbed the rest and were no doubt tearing it to pieces outside. I lifted Mary, naked as she was, and allowed Beau to usher us towards a passage that presumably led to the sacristy and, hopefully, to an exit from the church. The small army of angry villagers dashed forwards down the aisle. The three of us ran through to a room full of clothes, not vestments as I had naturally anticipated, but fancy dress party outfits.

“What the fuck?” I said to Beau.

“Pays to think ahead, doesn’t it?” he said and grabbed a pirate’s costume.

I found some clothes for Mary: a skirt and a top. It was only after she had donned them that I realised she was now dressed as a tart. The pink top squeezed her gorgeous boobs revealingly and the black skirt barely covered her slightly plump ass. Pubic hair was visible below the hem. She seemed unconcerned, however. I found a gorilla outfit and leapt into that as quickly as I could. I was thinking wryly how appropriate this choice might seem to our pursuers when they burst into the room brandishing their gardening tools with bloodlust written on their Caucasian, middle class faces.

“Fuck this,” I said to myself.

Much as I appreciated Beau’s site, I was far from willing to suffer torture at the hands of these lunatics, so I stuck my hand under the mask and tapped my left nostril to end the session. Nothing happened. I looked at Beau helplessly while the goth laughed callously.

“Do you think we’d just let you get away?” she crowed. “You bastards are frozen into this site until we’ve finished with you.”

“Hackers,” explained Beau. “Sorry.”

The woman laughed again and demanded, “So which one of you wants to feel my prong first?” while she poked her rake at my muzzle.

I lost control of myself and an unpleasant odour travelled up the inside of my costume to fill my mask. The woman turned her black eyes to meet mine and I silently cursed Beau for programming his site with such an unnecessary amount of detail.

Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2010