The Monk's Tale

by Neph

This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between some of the characters in it. Nothing written here should be taken as approval of, or encouragement for, sexual liaisons between people where such liaisons are either illegal, or objectionable for moral reasons. Although this story does not make safe sex practices explicit, it is everyone's own responsibility to themselves and to each other to engage only in protected sex. This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Nothing represented here is based on any fact known to the author or on any known religious order.

The story is copyright 2002 by "Neph". If you copy the story, please leave the credits, and the host's web address of present, and also the email address of Neph would love to receive feedback.



I knocked on the door - timidly, I must admit.

"Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord."

That was the sign to enter, so I opened the door, went in and made the ritual response: "Peace be with you, father."

Father Superior held out his hand and I knelt down and kissed his ring.

"Please rise," he said. "How can I help you, brother Andrew?"

"Father, I want to leave the order."

There. I had said it. I was sweating profusely, but I had said it.

"Why is that, brother Andrew?" he asked, gently.

I hesitated. I had rehearsed this conversation in my mind so many times, and yet it was still painful. "Father, I feel that I am almost on the verge of breaking my vows; I want to be released from them before I do indeed break them."

"Brother Andrew, you are a very good and loyal member of our order, I am very sorry to hear that you feel you need to leave. Can you tell me exactly what the problem is? I really do want to help if I can"

Oh God! No, I can't tell you! I just can't! Please don't make me do that!

"Andrew," he said very gently, "you have been one of the brothers since you were 21. How long is that?"

"It's been 14 years, father."

"You are an external, one of the brothers who does good works outside the cloisters. Your visits to the home for senior citizens in particular is really blessed. Tell me, is your wanting to leave us concerned with the outside world in any way?"

Oh, please stop probing. Please.

"Father, it is all around me wherever I go and it is with me all day, every day. Very soon, I know, I shall succumb. I did not take my vows lightly; they meant and they still mean a great deal to me. I feel I must be released from them urgently, and the only way that that can happen is by me leaving the order."

"Maybe, Andrew, maybe. I don't rule it out."

A pause, not quite long enough to be awkward.

"Tell me, son, has this anything to do with a woman?"

He would have to ask that! Oh God, please make this probing stop. He means well, I know, but...

"No father, you may rest assured that it has nothing whatsoever to do with a woman." Hopefully, that will keep him quiet!

A much longer pause. I could almost hear the wheels of his mind working. He was a canny old bird. The pause became awkward, and then became pregnant.

"Andrew, tell me, does this have anything to do with a man?"

God, help me! I cannot lie. Not to him!

Another pause, while I screwed up the courage to talk. And the pause went on for far, far too long.

"Brother Andrew, if I construe your silence as assent would I be very wrong?" He asked this very gently, in no way accusing me. I answered him almost in a whisper, and I was sweating even more profusely, if that were possible.

"No father, you would not be wrong. But it's not 'a man'; it's almost every man - at least most men near my own age or younger. It's a general feeling, a yearning, a need. I can't fight it any longer. I know it's a sin, but there is nothing I can do. I have tried everything."

"Will you permit me to try once more to save you for the order?"

"How, father?"

"We have a retreat where brothers go in order to be alone for a while, to recuperate their strength of will, to sort themselves out. Many find it helpful."

"Where is this retreat?"

"It is high up on a mountain peak on one of the Greek islands in the Aegean."

"A Greek island," I said half questioning, half astonished. "That's a long way away."

"Yes," observed Father Superior, and left it at that, as if I had stated the obvious. Which I had, of course.

Another pause that lengthened.

"Andrew, I can arrange for it very quickly. You can have the airline tickets in your hands by tomorrow, if you want."

"It sounds so remote. How long would I be gone?"

"It is remote geographically, but you are not cut off. You will have telephones available, you will have Internet access, you will have e-mail... As for how long, that is entirely up to you: until you feel that you have come to a conclusion one way or the other."

"I suppose it's worth a try," I said doubtfully. He jumped upon that.

"Good! I shall make the arrangements straight away. Be ready to leave tomorrow."

He offered his ring; I knelt again and kissed it. "Bless me, father," I said ritually.

"Be you blessed, brother," he responded with what sounded like extra kindliness.

I rose and left the room.


I was one of the first on the plane. Although they had allocated seats, of course, I still wanted to find my seat and stow my hand luggage with relative ease. Having done that I threw myself into my seat and shifted my legs, trying to make room for them. Why don't they have more leg room in these aircraft? Do they think all passengers are pigmies? I settled down in my seat, pulling my jacket away from the armrests. It felt so strange to be wearing 'ordinary' clothes instead of my monk's habit. I was sitting on the aisle. I would have preferred to have a window seat, but there hadn't been one available.

The plane was beginning to fill up. People were pushing their way along the aisle looking for their row number, stowing their hand luggage and so on. There was quite a hubbub. Suddenly someone stopped at my row. I looked at him; he didn't see me since he was looking up making sure of the row and seat numbers.

Oh God, why are You doing this to me? I am trying so hard to be rid of this... this desire - and You send me this! Just look at his face! It looks almost as if it has come straight out of my dreams.

At that moment, having assured himself that he had found the right row and the right seat number he bent down to pick up his hand luggage and then he stretched up to stow it in the hatch above my head.

My God! Just look at that ass! How do I stop myself from touching it? I so much want to put my hand on it, stroke it, feel it.

What am I thinking?! God, forgive me! Help me! I mustn't think about his ass - oops, sorry, I mean that I mustn't think about things like that. But I do! I do! Can there be a penance that will erase this sin?

He was about 25 to 30 years old. He was wearing an open-neck shirt - bright red with a pattern of yellow sunflowers dotted over it here and there and he was wearing a pair of old jeans. I say that they were old because they were well worn and probably well washed many times. They had originally been some light colour, but by now they had lost most of it and looked like something between beige, cream and white. They were very tight on him, hugging his contours not only round his hips and his butt, but even round his thighs. As he stretched up to stow his gear his shirt rode up revealing a delicious waist...

Dear God, if this is a test of some kind please just give me an F already. I cannot help the way I feel. He is so close that even if I shut my eyes I can still smell him - intoxicating man smell.

"Excuse me, can I push past you to get to my seat? I think my seat is next to yours." His voice sent shivers down my spine. I tried to push my legs under the seat so that he could shuffle past. He trod on my toes, but I didn't care. I don't think I was even aware of it.

What was that he said? "My seat is next to yours"? Oh my God! His seat is right in front of my face! Dare I put my hands there to shove him along, as it were? Dare I?

No, I didn't dare. He finally got past me (unfortunately) and sank into his seat.

"Thank you. Sorry for having pushed past you like that."

"That's OK." Any time, man, any time!

"This is going to be a longish haul," he said. "I do wish they'd give a bit more leg room."

"Yes," I said, lamely, hardly able to get the word out of my mouth. I half-whispered, half croaked it.

There was a pause and then he spoke again:

"Can we chat or would you prefer us to remain silent during the flight? I mean, there are some people who like to talk to strangers and there are others who are very unhappy about chatting with travelling companions. Which are you?"

Normally I would have chosen to be the silent companion, but somehow I managed to say, "Chatting is fine, thank you."

"Oh good! I'm so pleased about that. My name's Luke, by the way."

I shook his proffered hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Luke. I'm Andrew."

We chatted all through taxiing and takeoff. He had a pleasant, easy manner that I found very engaging. Usually I am very shy with people I don't know - taciturn almost - but Luke was able to get me chatting without me even realizing what was happening. And he was so sweet: after only a few minutes I was quite convinced that he was as gorgeous inside as he was outside; after about half-an-hour of conversation I knew that he was sweet, and kind and gentle.

We talked about the inconvenience of airports; then we switched to the weather; then politics; after that came football; it seemed that there was an endless number of topics about which which could chat freely and happily. All the time, as he spoke, I was looking at him. He was not what most people would call handsome, but to my eyes he was... was... er... um... he was beautiful. There, I've said it!

Suddenly, out of the blue, somewhere between ground zero and twelve thousand feet, I knew intuitively that I had fallen in love! I can't explain it, even now. I could feel a current of some kind flowing - sizzling - between the two of us. I felt something like a continuous electric jolt passing between us. My heart was racing, I could feel that I was flushed, beads of cold sweat on my forehead... Something inside was telling me all the time, 'This is him! This is the man you have been imagining all your life. This is the one. This is Mr Right.'

Stop that! You'll convince yourself that you are in love with him. This is sinful!

Can't help it. I am in love with him!

Nonsense! You don't fall in love with someone just like that! Besides, you are in love with God. Remember?

I just know that I want him.

How do you know that he wants you, you stupid fool!

I don't know. Oh, God, please make him want me - just a little.

This is outrageous! Absolute and unpardonable blasphemy! Pull yourself together!

At a certain point in the conversation, without thinking and out of simple curiosity, I asked, "Luke, what do you do?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"How do you earn a living? What is your profession?"

"I'm a photographer."

"That sounds interesting." How lame can I get? "What do you photograph?"

There was a pause, as if he was tossing up whether to tell me or not, and then he said, "I photograph nude men mostly."

Say something, you idiot! Anything! Andrew, Andrew, this pause is going on too long. Say something! Now!

"Er, um, er - that sounds very interesting, Luke." Did I say that? What, am I dumb or something? I've really mucked this up good and proper now. God, why are you doing this to me? Please, please make me attractive to him. Did I think that? Oh God, I am so sorry. Oh hell!

"Yes, it is, actually."

"Don't you ... er ... find that embarrassing sometimes?"

"No, not usually. Only when the men are not attractive." What did he say?. Oh my God! "You see, Andrew, I'm gay."

He said it so simply. For him, obviously, it was no problem.

Another pause. Say something. If you don't say something he is going to completely misunderstand you! Now, Andrew!

"Is that a problem for you, Andrew?"


"That I am gay?"

"Oh no! Not at all! Not at all!" Stop gushing, Andrew. Act naturally.

"Oh, good! so we can stay friends, then."

"Yes, of course!"

"And what do you do, Andrew?"

I was completely unprepared for that! I am a monk. I live in a cloister. I belong to a religious order. Hahahaha!

"I am a male nurse. I tend to the sick and infirm in a home for senior citizens."

"So you get to see a lot of nude men as well." He laughed, good naturedly.

"Yes, but my men are old. I'd much rather see yours."

Absolute silence. Did I really say that? God, take it back! Make it so that he didn't hear that! Erase it! Delete it!

Luke turned in his seat and looked directly at me. "Andrew, are you gay too?"

I looked into his eyes. There was light in them and the light was dancing, mesmerizing me. Suddenly, intuitively, I knew that he wanted me to say 'Yes'. I just knew it. For me it was written all over his beautiful face, shining in his eyes. But I just could not get my tongue to move. So all there was was a very long silence.

"I guess you've answered my question," said Luke with a grin. "But obviously you're not comfortable with it."

"Apart from you there are only three others who know," I whispered - perhaps to Luke, perhaps to myself.

"Who are they, Andrew". He said this very gently.

"Well, one is me," I said.

"Can you tell me who the other two are?"

He was so sincere and so friendly that I had to tell him.

If you tell him that you are a monk that will be the end of his interest in you.
And a good thing too! Go on, tell him!

Again the pause was going on too long. I seemed to be very good at saying nothing at the most awkward moments.

"Andrew, you don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to tell."

"No, it'll be a relief to tell someone after all this time. Besides, our paths are not likely to cross ever again, are they?" I thought I saw a momentary look of pain cross his handsome face.

"Tell me whatever you want me to know, Andrew," he said, ignoring my last remark.

"Another person who knows is... is... er... my boss," I said, thinking how strange it was to call Father Superior my 'boss'. "Apart from that, God knows," I said. Realizing how that could be misunderstood I hastened to correct myself. "I mean that the fourth to know is God."

"If you believe in God would He not be the first to know, not the fourth?" I nodded my head in a kind of assent, thinking about what he had said in a idle kind of way.

See! He doesn't believe in God! He is an atheist or some other dreadful thing. Get back in line, Andrew! You have one foot already on the slippery path...

There was another pause that was painfully long.

Suddenly, changing the subject, Luke said, "Andrew, what is your destination? Athens?"

"No. Athens is just a stop-over. I have a further leg after that."

"So do I," he responded with some excitement. "I have to go on from Athens for a photo-fest in sunny Rhodes."

"Well, I'll be getting off one leg before you: I'm heading for Heraklion on Crete."

"What will you be doing in Heraklion?" asked Luke in some astonishment

"Nothing. I shall be taking a taxi and heading up into the mountains - a place called Arkadi."

"What will you be doing there?"

"Our... er... firm, our enterprise, has a retreat there."

"A retreat. What will you be doing in the retreat?"

"Sorting myself out," I said glumly.

He nodded, but said nothing more about it.

Dear God, rarely do I ask you something for myself, but this time... Please let him touch me, caress me intimately... and if that cannot be, please just let me be in bed with him... and if that cannot be, please just let me see him nude... Oh my God! What did I just think? Oh my God! No, no, no, no!


We were now about 20 minutes away from Athens International Airport. We were enjoying our post-meal coffee when suddenly the aircraft gave a lurch which almost sent my coffee cup flying. That was followed by a buffeting from turbulence. General hubbub. The "fasten seat belts" sign went on, there was a crackling sound and then a steward began relaying a long message, which neither I nor Luke could understand because it was in Greek. (The only Greek I knew was what we had learned in the seminary - and that was Greek as spoken more than 2000 years ago in an entirely different pronunciation.) The buffeting went on throughout the announcement, which was then mercifully repeated in English. It transpired that we were flying into a severe storm that was raging all over the Eastern Mediterranean area; there was nothing to fear; our plane would land safely. Upon hearing that last consolation Luke looked at me and made a wry face. "Sounds bad," he said.

The storm was indeed severe. We lurched our way forward into it. Suddenly a mighty spate of acute turbulence sent the remnants of my coffee flying - straight into Luke's lap. I was horrified. Without thinking I hastily grabbed a paper napkin and started dabbing the wet stain until it was reasonably dry. It was only when I had finished that I suddenly realized what I had done: I had been dabbing Luke's crotch!

Oh my God! Andrew, you've been and gone and done it now! You fool! You idiot! You cretin!

"Oh, I did enjoy that, Andrew," he grinned. "Once more with feeling, please. With the accent on 'feel'."

I must have blushed bright red because he was immediately apologetic.

Again the plane lurched. Despite the turbulence I was unprepared for that lurch and it sent me crashing rightwards against Luke. I put out my hand to steady myself - and once again it landed straight on his crotch.

"I didn't think you'd take me seriously," laughed Luke, "but I didn't get the feel. Third time lucky?"

"Luke, I don't know what to say; I am so sorry. Believe me, I didn't mean that to happen. It was the turbulence..."

Luke put his hand gently on mine. "I'm sorry you didn't mean it, Andrew; really I am."

I looked at him. God, he was in earnest! I could see it on his face, I could see it in his eyes. Dear God, please help me, please show me what to do. I don't want to sin, really I don't; it's just that... Oh fuck! Oh my God! Did I think that? Shut up, Andrew. Stop thinking.

The plane lurched again which saved me from having to make an immediate response. We were now below the clouds and the port holes were bespattered with rain as we plunged down and into the heart of the storm. I did not even notice that we held hands until the aircraft came to a stop on the runway. We had made it. Thank You, God, for that deliverance. And Luke thanks You too - or, at least he would if he believed in You. Andrew, Andrew, how banal can you get?

We disembarked. Luke and I were among dozens of passengers who made their way into the transit section of the airport for our connecting flight. There we were met by a stewardess. She was very apologetic. The weather was too inclement to permit takeoff safely and the company was going to put us up at a hotel for the night at their expense and hopefully we would be able to resume our journey in the morning. The storm was so fierce that no one objected to this change of plan. We were bussed to what looked like a decent hotel. Since Luke and I had been among the first to board the bus we were among the last to get into the hotel lobby. There was quite a queue of people from the plane waiting to get the keys to their rooms but they finally reached us. Luke gave his name and then I did too. The clerk looked a bit flustered and then excused himself: "There seems to have been a mistake made which I must refer to my superior. I am very sorry and I shall get back to you immediately."

Luke and I looked at each other. Mistake? What mistake?

The clerk returned together with a man who was obviously the shift manager. "I am so very sorry, gentlemen, but someone seems to have made a slight miscalculation. We only have one room left. Would you mind sharing the room or shall I make arrangements for one of you to be given accommodation in another hotel?"

As quick as lightening Luke said, "That's all right. We don't mind sharing - do we Andrew?"

What could I say? "N... no. Of course we can share a room," I said doubtfully. Dear God in heaven, is this test never to end?

The manager handed Luke the keycard and a bellboy carried our hand luggage to the room. It was only then that I realized that our main luggage was still on the plane, or in customs or somewhere, waiting for our connecting flight.

We entered the room and I shut the door behind us. It was a reasonably large room with a door leading off which obviously led to the bathroom. There was a writing table and a couple of upright chairs; there was one very uncomfortable-looking armchair. Apart from that there was only one more item of furniture in the room: one large double bed. Only one bed! Oh my God! Only one bed! A king-sized bed, but only one! Angels of mercy, protect me, sustain me, help me...

Luke dumped his hand luggage on the writing table and so did I. "Andrew, have you ever shared a bed with another man before?" he asked, his eyes dancing mischievously, just as before.

"N... no," I mumbled, feeling very gauche.

"Don't worry, Andrew," said Luke with a gentle smile, "I won't rape you, I won't take advantage of you - I promise."

I smiled a wan smile. I was in turmoil. On the one hand I so much wanted to be in bed with him, but on the other hand I was scared. What was I scared of? Of Luke? of God? of sin?

"It's been a long and tiring day," said Luke. "I'm going to have a shower and get some sleep."

Without any more ado he began to get undressed. I just stood there awkwardly, watching him.

Stop looking at him!
I can't!
He'll know you're watching!
I can't help it. I'm trying to get my eyes off him but they just won't obey me.

He pulled off his colorful shirt and then pulled his undershirt over his head. Oh God, look at that chest, those nipples. And his armpits! His hand went to his waist, undid his jeans and started peeling them off, shaking his hips as he did so.

Merciful angels, look at his briefs. I have never seen so sexy a sight. They are real kinky!

Stop staring at him!

I can't!

He turned slightly to face me and grinned. Then he pulled down his briefs and stood there for an instant completely naked. I followed his gaze down to my own crotch where something was completely roused. From the bed he snatched up a towel that had been provided by the hotel and went into the bathroom. Almost instantly I heard the water running

Just look at his ass! Wow! And his ... his... his thingy! I was so shy, so inhibited, that I couldn't even say the word to myself! And yet I knew in my innermost heart that I just wanted to get down on my knees and worship him, to touch him, to feel him, to clasp him, to embrace him, to... to...

This is blasphemous folly! Stop it this instant!
I... I... I can't. Oh God, I want to die - but please let me die in his arms.

I was so embarrassed by my engorged state that I decided the best thing would be to go straight to bed. I could have a shower in the morning. It was then that I realized that I didn't even have any pyjamas, because they were with my luggage. Who thought of packing pyjamas in hand luggage? I would have to go to bed nude. So will he! Both of us naked in the same bed! Yesssss! Noooooo! Oh, hell!

I quickly stripped and threw myself into the bed, moving to the edge as far as I could without falling out. The flow of water in the bathroom stopped. There was a long pause while he dried himself and then the bathroom door opened. I shut my eyes tight. Let him think that I am asleep already. I heard him turn off the light and climb into bed. "Andrew, if you are awake - sleep well. Good night."

I said nothing and moved not a muscle. After a few minutes I could hear his steady breathing which meant that he was already asleep.

Now I was alone. Completely alone. Alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my fears - and my God.

What will I answer Him on the day of reckoning? He knows my innermost thoughts. He knows how I lust for Luke; He knows how I ache for him, body and soul. He is testing me. I must hold fast to what I know is right and good. I must not give way to baser instincts.

Baser instincts? Andrew, how can you so debase the feelings that you have? Can love be a baser instinct? Don't you believe that God loves you? If God loves you would He put you through this agony? How do you know this is a test? Maybe a loving God is giving you a golden opportunity!

But it is a sin! For a man to love another man is a sin. That's God's word in scripture! All the forces of evil are tempting you. You must not succumb. Remain steadfast and inherit glory.

Inheriting glory is only a possibility; enjoying true love here and now is almost a certainty. You love him, you yearn for him, you desire him with all your heart. And you know that he loves you: you can see it in his eyes, you can read it on his face, you can feel it in his touch, you can sense it in his nearness.

It's easy for him, stupid: he doesn't believe in God, therefore he does not have the problem of sin, therefore he will not inherit glory.

Maybe he's right and I am wrong.

Oh great! Now you are not only a sinner; now you want to be a heretic as well!

I can't help what I am! I love him. I want him. Why is that such a sin? With him at my side I know that I could lead a more noble and more satisfying life. Luke is such a good person, so kind, so gentle, so courteous, so thoughtful, so loving - I cannot believe that he will not inherit glory. He is in almost all things a perfect example of the good person.

He does not believe in God. He does not observe God's law. He is an abomination. He is the incarnation of temptation. He is damned. He will burn in hellfire.

No! The thought was so abhorrent that I shouted that monosyllable out loud. And that woke Luke.


No response. Maybe he'd think that he dreamed it or that he had heard some noise from outside, where the storm was still raging.

"Andrew, are you OK?" There was concern in his voice. I felt him turn in the bed towards me.

Suddenly no longer could I withstand the tension and frustration that had been building up inside me. I could feel the tears coming and could not hold them back. I tried, but the more I tried the more the tears welled in my eyes. And then, suddenly, I could hold back no more. My shoulders heaved and the sobs came uncontrollably.

"Hey, Andy, tell me what the matter is, tell me what's troubling you." I felt him shifting over in the bed towards me. I sobbed even more.

"Andy, I'm here. Tell me what's wrong. Share it with me. Please don't cry or you'll set me off too."

I felt his hand gently on my shoulder. Oh the thrill of his touch! And the horror of his touch!

"Andy, don't cry. Turn over, look at me - please."

"I can't."

"Why ever not?"

At that simple question I broke down completely. My whole body shook and trembled as the anguish gushed out of me. I was out of control. I felt him snuggle up to me. He put his right arm across me and reached for my chest. I could feel him, warm and tender, lining his body up with mine. Even though he was not aroused I could feel his manhood pressing against the cleft of my butt. It was not erotic, it was the epitome of tender concern.

"Shhhh, Andy; quiet. I'm here. I'm holding you. I'll never let anything harm you. Rest safely in my arms."

I felt his lips brush my shoulder with a gentle kiss. Oh, what a wonderful feeling.

"Do it again," I whispered in a small, almost childlike, voice.

"Do what again?"

"Kiss me." I breathed the words, hardly vocalized them at all. My God, I had asked a man to kiss me! But yes, I wanted him to kiss me. Please, please kiss me.

Again I felt the gentle touch of his lips on my shoulder. "Shhhh. I am here. All is well." And then I felt him plant a gentle kiss on my cheek. I half turned my head towards him and he leaned forward to meet me. His lips touched mine - no more than that, just touched. I sighed a sigh of contentment. I think he understood then.

"Go to sleep, Andrew. I am here, holding you safe as long as you want me to. We'll talk more in the morning. Sleep now."

Sleep began to overtake me, delightful sleep. I was nestling next to him. Luke was spooning me. All was well. As I finally dozed off I felt his hand move down across my tummy and cover my genitals. It felt so good, so secure, so safe. I felt him press himself up close to me. He must have thought that I was already asleep. In my drowsiness I am certain that I heard him whisper, "I love you, Andy". I heard his gentle rhythmic breathing. He was asleep. I slept too.


I was the first to wake the following morning. The quietness from outside the window suggested that the storm had abated. Luke was still spooning me and his hand was still resting where it had rested all night. Gently, I moved his hand and slid out of bed. I looked at him lying there, with a quiet smile of contentedness playing around the edges of his mouth. He was so beautiful and yet at the same time, being completely naked, he looked fragile, defenceless. I felt an overwhelming need to protect him - from what I did not know. Gently, so as not to wake him, I placed his hand on his own body in the same place where it had rested all night on mine, and I covered him up again.

I slipped into the bathroom and enjoyed a very hot shower. When I came out, with just a towel round me, he was already awake, lying on his back with his hands behind his head with a huge grin on his face.

"Now that's a sight I would just love to wake up to every day for the rest of my life," he said.

"What sight is that?" I asked innocently.

"The sight of you, freshly washed and scantily clad, standing at the foot of my bed."

I blushed. Yet his words pleased me very much, made me feel warm and happy. All I could do was to smile at him. I did not know what to say. Spending the night, in bed, nude next to another nude man, had eased my tensions somewhat, but I still felt inhibited. I covered my uncertainty by searching for my clothes.

"Now that is an even better sight!" said Luke, as I removed the towel that was around my waist. I was really embarrassed now

"Luke, please," I mumbled.

"Why? What's wrong? Can't I think that you are beautiful?"

"Luke, I'm not beautiful."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not. Really, I'm not," I said.

"'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder', as they say. And when I behold you I behold beauty. I like what I see. And believe me, I have seen hundreds of men in the nude. None have been like you in my eyes. I'm not saying that you are a hunk; I'm just telling you that you are beautiful in my eyes."

"Stop it, please," I said. "I don't know how to deal with things like that."

"Andy, we have got to talk," said Luke. It felt so good when he called me Andy. In the cloisters I had always been Andrew. Andy felt special.

"What about?"

"Us. You and me."

"What about us?"

Luke scrambled naked out of bed and sat himself down on edge of the foot of the bed, and pulled me towards him. He rested both hands gently on each of my buttocks and lay his head on my abdomen. God, this feels so good I could die now content. "I love you, Andy. I know this is sudden, but sometimes it happens this way. Two people meet and there is instant chemistry. That's how I feel for you. I don't want to lose you."

Again, I was confused, not knowing how to answer him. My heart wanted to say 'Yes, yes, yes!' but my conscience was screaming 'No, no, no!'. I pulled away from him and said, "We'll talk during the day."

"OK," he said with a small sigh. Frantically I pulled on my briefs. Luke got up and went into the bathroom. When he came out I was already dressed. He began to dress, quite oblivious of me. Now, in my mind, there was a replay of what had happened the previous evening. I stood there awkwardly, watching him dress.

Stop looking at him! He knows you're watching!
I can't help it. I'm trying to get my eyes off him but they just won't obey me.

He pulled on his briefs. You know, sometimes a partially clothed man is even more erotic, even more arousing, than a fully naked man.

God in heaven! I have never seen so sexy a sight - since last evening. And did I mention those kinky briefs that leave very little to my imagination?
Stop staring at him!
I can't!

Finally he managed to get dressed and we went together to see if breakfast had been served.

We found a table for two, but we breakfasted almost in silence. A representative of the airline announced that since the weather had improved we could resume our journey and that a bus would shortly be arriving to take us back to the airport. Luke seemed to hesitate and then spoke.

"Andrew, soon we are going to go our separate ways unless we decide something quickly."

"Yes," I said lamely.

"Andrew, you're not being very helpful."


"May I please see you again?"

"No." The monosyllable came from my mouth as heavy as lead.

"Why not?" For the first time since we had met I sensed anxiety in his voice, saw it in his face. I was touched.

"Luke, I like you very much; more than you can probably imagine -"

"Then why on earth can't I see you again?" He was incredulous.

"Luke, I have not lied to you, but I have not told you the whole truth, and I cannot tell you the whole truth, so please don't ask me." I was so very miserable.

"Have you done anything wrong, harmful, criminal?"

"No, of course not!"

"Was it something that happened last night?"

"No, Luke."

"Then I cannot think of any reason why you could deny me the pleasure of being in your company."

"No, Luke, you would not be able to think of the reason. Just believe me that there is a reason - and for me it's a good reason.

"Is this separation final then?" His voice sounded hollow. He was obviously distraught. I was aching inside to give myself up to him. I compromised and said nothing, remained silent.

"I am hopeful that your silence implies that there is a chance that one day we could meet again." His eyes were glistening with tears that he was holding back.

"Maybe, Luke; maybe one day. I don't know. Oh hell!" I said in frustration.

"Then may I at least please keep in contact with you?"

I could see no harm in that and certainly did not want to lose him for ever.

"How can we keep in contact without meeting?" I asked.

"We could phone each other," he said hopefully.

"I don't know the phone number of the place where I am going," I said numbly.

"There is e-mail, then," he said eagerly. I could see no harm in occasional e-mail contact. We exchanged e-mail addresses.

We were ushered onto the bus which took us back to the airport. Our flight was very different from the previous one: we were both despondent and both for the same reason: we probably would not see each other again.

There was nothing untoward on the comparatively short hop from Athens to Heraklion and all too soon our aircraft was taxiing to a halt. We disembarked. Luke had about an hour before his connecting flight left for Rhodes. We went together to collect my luggage from the roundabout. I was determined to stay with him until he had to leave.

We waited together until the very last call for Luke's flight, when he was called by name. He stood up.

"This is it, then," he said.

"Yes," I said, my heart almost breaking.

"Goodbye, Andrew. I have loved ... meeting you."

"Farewell, Luke." Then, just as he turned to go, I grabbed him by the arm. He turned towards me and I pulled him to me. I hugged him as tight as I could, and then I gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Go with God, Luke. I shall never forget you."

He broke from my embrace and rushed off. With tears streaming down my cheeks I watched until I saw him board the plane and he was swallowed up inside.


I pulled myself together and left the terminal. I hailed a taxi and we set off for Arkadi. The driver spoke minimal English - just enough to understand where I wanted to go and to tell me how much it would cost me to get there. So I just sat there, silently communing with my own thoughts - sad, frustrated, dejected.

Why are you so dejected? You had to make a choice between Luke and God and you have made that choice - and it was the right choice.

Was it? Was it really the right choice?

Yes, of course it was!

Then why am I so unhappy at having made the right choice?

Our journey hugged the northern coastline between Heraklion and Rethymno. All along this route, about 90 kilometres, we had the beautiful dark-blue sea on our right and tall cliffs reaching skywards on our left. Then, a few kilometres before Rethymno we turned leftwards off the main road and began the long, slow climb upwards, onto one of the lower spurs of Mount Ida. The country was beautiful. The hills had become mountains and every single spot on them - and in the valleys - was covered with olive-trees. As we climbed higher and higher I recalled that according to old Greek legend there was a cave on the top of Mount Ida in which the god Zeus was born. Idly, I wondered whether there really was such a cave there and whether I could visit it.

Stop this! You are thinking of an idol! A figment of human imagination, a myth!

Yes, but what a mighty myth. I wonder what those who believed devoutly in the twelve Olympian deities would have thought of our beliefs.

Holy angels! This is blasphemy! Cease while you can!

After having passed through some of the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen we finally crested the last height and found ourselves on the spacious gravel entrance-way of the cloister. The taxi driver dumped my luggage on the gravel and I paid him. After he had driven off I looked around me for a moment. There was no sign of other human habitation as far as my eyes could see down into the valleys. I shrugged, slung my hand luggage over my shoulder, picked up my two suitcases and went through the entrance.

The complex was old - 16th century, I think - and had a lovely 'spiritual' feeling about it. I was greeted warmly by one of the brothers. At least they are expecting me, I thought.

"We expected your arrival yesterday," he said in stilted English with a heavy Greek accent. "We telephone the airline company to find what to you happen. They tell us about the storm and that you are OK, so we no longer worry."

"Thank you for your concern, brother," I responded and we smiled at each other.

"I show you your cell. Then you can undress into your habit and feel at home," he smiled. He picked up one of my suitcases, which was kind of him, and I followed as he led the way.

"After you have settle down you can visit Father Superior, OK?"

"OK," I said. As he turned to go I added, "Efĥaristó" - thank you.

Despite the antiquity of the buildings my cell was comfortable and well equipped - bed, closet, air-conditioning. I later found that in the refectory the food was tasty and sufficient. In the scriptorium I found a telephone with an outside line and five computer stations linked to the Internet. I sent an e-mail to my own cloister to tell them that I had arrived safely and then tried to settle down in my new surroundings.

Father Superior was an old man, stiff-backed with grey hair and beard. He spoke fluent English but with a heavy accent. He greeted me warmly.

"Welcome to Arkadi, brother Andrew," he said. "Your own Father Superior has already told me through an e-mail why you are visiting us. You are by no means the first monk who has come to us ... for the reason you have come to us. You must utilize your time here for reflection and earnest prayer. Pray constantly that God direct you on the right path.

"Yes, father," I responded dutifully. "Bless me, father."

"Be you blessed, brother." I rose and left the room.

I tried very hard to do what I had come to do. I prayed in my cell, I prayed in the sanctuary, I prayed in the courtyard - I even went out into the surrounding countryside to pray. But my prayers were dry; they had no heart. At night, on my bed, I would try to pray but the only images that came into my my mind were of Luke. When I knelt down to pray the image that recurred in my mind most of all was of Luke's face in the terminal at Heraklion when I bade him farewell: a picture of utter despair and dejection. But worst of all was the constant ache in my heart. I so much wanted Luke. I wanted him near me. I needed to feel his presence, his touch. I needed to see his face, his grin. I needed to kiss him and hug him. And I needed him to kiss me and hug me.

On the fifth day Luke sent me an e-mail. He was fine, he was finishing his photo-fest and was going to Athens to do something for a few days. He didn't say what. He hoped that I was well and getting benefit from my retreat. He loved me and ached to see me.

As I read the message there were tears in my eyes. I pointed at the reply button and hesitated. What can I say to him? He aches to see me? God in Heaven! You know how much I ache to see him. I am going through sheer hell! Is this what you want of me? Is this the life that I am destined to lead? Is this your love, God?

How could you!? To throw upon God the responsibility for your own sins!

I have not sinned!

Of course you have sinned! You are thinking these filthy lascivious thoughts all the time.

They are not filthy! They are not lascivious! They are thoughts of love, pure love. They are the yearnings of one soul for another.

You kid yourself! The yearnings of one soul for another, indeed! One cock for another, you mean!

How dare you!? How can you demean what is in your heart in that cruel way?

Because that's the way the whole world would see it, idiot!

I can't help what the world thinks. I just know that I shall never be happy without him. If I am doomed to live without him my life will continue, but it will be an empty shell, a sham.

And what about God? The God you serve? The God to whom you have vowed your devotion? God commands you to cast him out of your heart, out of your mind, out of your soul - to banish him for ever.

No! God cannot want this of me. It is God who made me what I am. I am his creature. If God did not make me then He is nothing at all! And if He did make me - then "the Righteous One knows the soul of his creature."

You are lost! You are quoting God's holy word against Himself! You are turning night into day, right into wrong.

No I'm not. I'm beginning to perceive, slowly, very slowly, what God's will truly is.

Oh great! Now you're -"

Silence! I'm thinking! A light is beginning to dawn.

Yes, truly "the Righteous One knows the soul of His animal" - and I am His creature. He knows what is in my heart and He knows that it is love, not lust; pure not impure. If, as people say, God wants me to forswear Luke, never to see him again, never to touch him, never to hear his voice, never just to be near him - then that god is just an idol, a figment of human imagination! It is not the God Who commands my love and obedience. The God of love, in whom I believe, to Whom I have vowed my devotion, the God Who made man in his own image, would never be so cruel as to separate two souls that yearn for each other so much.

I recalled a hoary old joke and suddenly realized the truth that lay at the heart of the joke. A devoutly religious man wanted so much to win the big lottery. He prayed and prayed and prayed, but he never won the lottery. When he died and went to heaven he argued with God: 'Was it so impossible for You to let me win the lottery?' 'Yes, it was quite impossible. You could never have won the lottery. There was nothing I desired more than to have you win the lottery, but it was quite impossible!' 'But why? Why was it impossible if You wanted it?' 'Because - you never bought a ticket!'

OK, God. Watch me! I am now going to buy my ticket!

I hit 'reply'. I responded to Luke's e-mail warmly, and admitted that I loved him and that I yearned for him too.

The more I began to think about it the more it seemed clear to me that my belief was right and my religion was wrong. That night, as I lay on my bed thinking, meditating before sleep, I recalled how I had felt when I first met Luke - less than a week ago. What was it that I had prayed inside me? I could recall the very words as clearly as if I had just said them: Dear God, rarely do I ask you something for myself, but this time... Please let him touch me, caress me intimately... and if that cannot be, please just let me be in bed with him... and if that cannot be, please just let me see him nude...

Suddenly, I sat up in bed. What a fool I have been! God has indeed answered my prayers! Did I see Luke nude? Did I share his bed? Did we lie together? Did he caress me intimately? Yes, yes, yes and yes! Oh, what a fool I have been! What a blind fool! All that was not a test. God was offering me the opportunity that I had prayed for. I could have won that lottery: I just refused to buy the ticket! But the door is still open, the door to Luke's heart.

The next few days passed with my heart and mind in a whirl. I was constantly putting forward to myself arguments for and against - and the 'for' arguments gradually became more and more persuasive.


On the ninth day sometime during the afternoon one of the brothers came to me where I was meditating in the sanctuary. I was praying fervently that God send me some sign that I was on the right track, that I was not deluding myself. Brother Georgios tapped me on the shoulder.

"To interrupt you I am sorrowed, Brother Andrew, but a visitor you have."

"A visitor? There must be a mistake, brother."

"I do not think I am in error, brother. He asked specifically if someone called Andrew was staying with us. I told him I will bring you."

I hastened to the entrance-way and then stopped dead in my tracks. Of course! Luke was the only person in Greece who knew where I was! He had come for me! He was standing with his back to me, admiring the view from the entrance down the valley. Was this the sign I had been waiting for?

"Luke," I said quietly.

He spun round at the sound of my voice. His face was a picture of amazement.

"Andrew? Is this you?" he asked, uncertainly.

I suddenly realized that Luke had no idea that I was a monk! I threw back my cowl so that he could see my face.

"O my God!" he breathed. "O - my - God!"

"I am so glad to see you, Luke."

"Andrew, what is this? Why are you dressed up like this?"

"Luke, we can't talk here. Let me take you to my cell. We can talk there freely."

"Your cell? What have you done, Andrew?"

"Nothing, silly. It's my private room."

I took him by the hand and led him to my cell. As I shut the door I indicated to him to sit on the bed while I took the only other seat, an upright wooden chair.

"Luke," I said, looking straight at him, "I have not lied to you: I am a male nurse. But I did not tell you the whole truth: I am a monk. I live in a cloister. I belong to a religious order."

His jaw dropped visibly. He looked at me helplessly, wide-eyed and infinitely sad.

After a few moments he said, "What a fool I have been; what a damned fool."

"You are not a fool, Luke," I said. "Why do you think so?"

"Because I have been chasing a phantom. I thought we could..." His voice trailed off.

"You thought we could - what?, Luke," I asked. I so much wanted to hear him say it.

"This is ridiculous! How can I tell you how much I love you and yearn for you when you are dressed up like that?"

"Don't be silly, Luke. I am the same Andrew that lay naked next to you in bed less than two weeks ago."

He looked up. "Andy, please don't play with me. Just tell me one of two things: either tell me there is hope or tell me to get the hell out of your life."

"I could never tell you to get out of my life, Luke."

"Then get those ridiculous clothes off and let's get out of here!" he said, reaching forward to take hold of my hand.

"I want to, Luke, believe me I want to. I have thought and thought over the past few days and I realize that I am in love with you and that I will never be truly happy away from you."

"Andy, you have made me so happy. I came here to tell you that I feel the same about you, exactly the same. I remembered that you had mentioned Arkadi, so I came to Heraklion and just asked a taxi driver to take me there. I had no idea it was a - a - a monastery!"

"In our order we don't call it that. We call it a cloister."

"Whatever. But if you love me as you say you do what's the big problem? Let's just go and get started with our lives."

"Luke, please try to understand. It's not as simple as that."

"Andy, I don't care what conditions you will set: I'll swear anything that you want me to. Just be mine, just share your life with me. That's all I ask."

How was I to explain to him? "Luke, what would you swear to?" I asked. "Why should I ask that of you?"

"I would swear that I am yours forever, that I will never forsake you, that I love you - whatever you want me to swear, because it would be true."

"Let's say that you did make such a vow, but many years hence someone else came along. Let's say that you just ignored the vow you made to me. No! Shhh!" I hushed him by putting my fingers to his lips. "Just imagine: how would I feel?"

"If I swear an oath of devotion to you, Andrew, I would never break it until you released me from it, you can be sure of that! On my life!"

"Then you will understand why I can't just walk out of here and into your life. Nearly fifteen years ago I made a vow of devotion and fidelity."

"But, but...." he floundered. "But, it's not the same," he said, lamely.

"Luke, it's just the same. If I could break a vow to God so easily, what meaning could there be to any vow I might make to you or you to me?"

He was silent for a moment or two, thinking. Then he looked up. "How do you get released from your vows?" he asked.

"Only Father Superior can release me, at my request."

"Then let's go an ask him - now."

"It won't be easy, Luke. He'll fight tooth and nail to keep me."

"I'm ready for a fight," he grinned. "Just let me into the ring."

Luke and I went together to see Father Superior. I knocked on the door.

"Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord."

I opened the door; Luke and I went in and I made the ritual response: "Peace be with you, Father."

Father Superior held out his hand and I knelt down and kissed his ring.

"Please rise," he said. "Andrew, of course, I know. And you, sir, are...?"

"Luke. Call me Luke."

"Very well, Mister Luke."

Oh God, no! They were sparring already!

"How can I help you, brother Andrew?"

"Father, I want to leave the order."

"I have seen this coming for several days. This Mister Luke has some fascination over you. It will pass, believe me it will pass. In one day or two it will pass."

This angered me, but Luke, surprisingly, remained cool.

"Well, since you know that he will then forsake me and return to you, I suppose that you will agree to give Andrew temporary leave to spend a short time with me. Will you not?"

"I most certainly will not," snapped Father Superior, coldly.

"You see, Mister Father Superior, you are afraid. You are not so cock sure as you say you are! You have had him for fifteen years; I would have him only for one night. And you are scared."

Father ignored Luke and turned to me.

"Will you give up eternal bliss in exchange for a fleeting earthly pleasure, a mere lust?"

"Father, it is neither fleeting nor lust. It is love and it is permanent. It is such a love that for me it is like a foretaste of eternal bliss."

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Love! What is earthly love compared to your duty to God? God demands obedience to His law, to His command. Love indeed!"

At that Luke looked him straight in the eyes and with a cold chill in his voice, a steely tone that I never imagined he had, he said, in pure Greek:

‘Ο μη αγαπων ουκ, εγνω τον θεον; ‘οτι ‘Ο θεος αγαπη εστιν. Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God, and knows God. He who does not love does not know God, for God is love. I don't have to tell you where that comes from, do I?"

I looked at Luke open-eyed and Father Superior closed his eyes and folded his hands. Then he said, softly, "Yes, Mister Luke. ‘Ο θεος αγαπη εστιν - God is love."

"I am an atheist; but that is in your holy scriptures: God is love. And to that I say Amen!" What do you say?

"I too say that God is love - but a different kind of love." He was now speaking much more earnestly, chastened. He was treating Luke as an equal. I could feel it, sense it. These two men were fighting over me!

"You say that God is love, but a different kind of love. I say that love is love. If the love you speak of demands the separation of souls that are drawn to each other by some benign force which is beyond their control and beyond their understanding - then your faith, your teaching, knows nothing about true love at all!"

A very long pause. It was not an awkward pause. I knew that Luke had almost won. Father Superior knew that Luke had almost won. It just needed Luke to soften the blow, to give Father Superior an honourable way out.

"Father," said Luke, his voice gentle and respectful. At the word 'father' Father Superior looked up. "Father," he began again, "I have known many men. I can snap my fingers and choose any one I want from quite literally dozens of willing volunteers. They all know that with the click of a shutter I can make or break them. But none of them can offer me what Andrew offers: a lifetime of happiness, of chaste togetherness. I don't want any of them if I can have him. Why should I want mere lust, as you call it, when I can have true love? Why should I make do with a cheap imitation when I can have the real thing?" Then he turned to me. "It's you I want, Andy; it's you I need. Without you I shall never be whole."

Father Superior now spoke very softly to Luke. "If I yield him to you would you swear to me that you will love him, honour him, cherish him, defend him, protect him and seek only his good? Could you promise me that, Mister Luke?"

"Yes, Father, I could willingly and wholeheartedly assure you of that. I would do all those things as long as Andy and I are together."

"Brother Andrew, kneel down in front of me." I did so. "Εγω αφιημι σου ... No wait. I shall say it in Latin and then in English. It is better for you. Ego te absolvo ab omni vinculo in quantum possum. I absolve you from every bond and vow that you have made in the framework of our order. There! You are now free from your undertaking, Andrew."

I stood up. "Thank you, Father," I said.

He smiled. "In that sense I am no longer your Father Superior. But I love you none the less." Then he turned to Luke. "Luke, are you now prepared to take the vow that we spoke of?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then both of you kneel in front of me, please." I knelt down as he asked even though I had no idea why he wanted us to do so. Luke visibly hesitated. I looked up at him. "Luke, please," I said, "do it for me, just this once." He knelt beside me.

"Do you, Luke, vow to this man Andrew that you will love him, honour him, cherish him, defend him, protect him and seek only his good as long as you are together?"

"I do."

And do you, Andrew, vow to this man Luke that you will love him, honour him, cherish him, defend him, protect him and seek only his good as long as you are together?"

"I do."

"It is done."

Now I said, out of habit, "Bless us, Father."

"Be you blessed." and then he smiled warmly as added, "- both of you. Now, you go in God's name and with God's blessing."

We rose and, hand in hand, we left the room.


We raced for my cell. We were hardly in the room when Luke slammed the door closed, grabbed me in his arms, and pressed his lips against mine. Our first real kiss was not a long one or an erotic one - but it is the one kiss that I shall never forget for the rest of my life. I still remember the feel of Luke's lips on mine even though since then we have kissed thousands of times.

"I've been waiting for that for almost two weeks," said Luke, laughing, as we fell apart. "Come on, Andy, get your things together and let's get out of here!".

I pulled off my habit and folded it neatly on the bed. Then I pulled on my secular clothes, threw my few possessions into my suitcases - and I was ready. I went into the scriptorium for the last time in order to phone for a taxi: luckily one was on its way bringing some tourists. We almost ran out into the gravelled courtyard and gambolled like silly children until the taxi arrived. We bundled our cases into the baggage and pushed ourselves into the rear of the automobile. "Heraklion, please," said Luke to the driver, and we said not another word throughout the whole of the journey. But we held hands the whole time and kept looking at each other with a silly grin our our faces.

In Heraklion we took a hotel room for the night and booked a flight to Athens for the following day - late morning, Luke insisted!

Most of that night I was in a kind of happy delirium. Knowing that I was a complete novice Luke was the most wonderful lover and teacher. At one and the same time he was patient, arousing, loving and considerate.

Luke took me in his arms, hugging me, gently pressing his lips against mine. Slowly, his tongue eased itself past my lips and demanded entrance into my mouth. This was the first time I had ever done anything like this; for a moment I balked, and then, knowing that this was Luke, my soul mate, I let his tongue in and slowly and gently our tongues began a duel, and soon each of us was searching out the other's mouth hungrily. An electric current shook my whole being, lights flashed behind my eyes in colours the rainbow had never known.

"Wow!" I said, as we broke apart to catch our breath, "I had no idea..."

I could not finish the sentence because Luke's mouth covered mine again. Now he pressed his body against mine. I felt my hands clasping him to me, but I was not really in control of what I was doing. I had an erection that was painful and I could feel Luke's 'thingy' pushing against mine as our hips began gyrating in unison. Somewhere deep inside me there began a feeling that until then I had known only when I had 'abused' myself - as the monastic manual had termed it. It became more and more insistent as our bodies ground into each other.

"Luke, I'm going to make a mess of myself if we don't stop."

"So let's get undressed."

No sooner had he said the words than his hands began to tug at my shirt and pull it over my head. He half-knelt in front of me and started kissing my nipples. My hands were clutching his head, grabbing whole handfuls of hair as I got more and more aroused. He kissed his way back up from my nipples via my throat to my lips and again began sucking the breath out of me.

Now it was I who unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. His body was hot as I brushed my hands across his back, feeling the hard leanness of his body underneath the soft, smooth skin. My hands moved lower, searching for the part of his anatomy that had first aroused me so many days ago: they found his ass - so round, so firm. I was so aroused I could not contain myself. I wanted him naked - now! But... but...

Luke must have intuitively understood both my desire and my inhibition. "Do it," he said.

With trembling fingers I undid his belt and fumbled with the clasp of his jeans, undid the holding button and then pulled down the zip. I felt his jeans fall open and pushed them, teased them, peeled them down until they fell to the floor. He stepped out of them and kicked them away. I did not stop kissing him and he did not stop kissing me. We were both in such a state of delirium that we hardly knew where we were or what we were doing. Again my hands traveled down his back, and cupped his butt. This time I could feel it firm and round under my hands with only the thin material of his kinky briefs separating my fingers from his skin.

Cautiously, I pushed the tips of my fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his briefs. They stole their way across his ass, feeling its round, firm shape. While I was doing this Luke's hands were at my waist pulling open my trousers and pushing them to the floor. Suddenly, his hand was inside the front of my underwear, groping and finding my erect manhood. I pulled away. Even in these circumstances I was still inhibited by my prudish education!

He knelt down in front of me and pulled my underwear off me. His hands clasped my butt and he looked up at me. "Andy, I have told you before and I tell you again: you are beautiful."

He stood up and kissed me, slowly, tenderly, lovingly. It was a kiss that seemed to last for ever. Both of us were in a different world that we, and only we, shared together, locked in a kind of eternal embrace. We finally emerged from that state of bliss, tearing our lips apart in order to replenish our lungs with sweet air in deep gasps. Unable to control my conscious behaviour any more I tugged at the elastic waistband of Luke's briefs and pushed them down. He stepped out of them without taking his eyes away from mine. Our eyes were locked in a concentrated gaze that seemed to send an almost physical link between them.

Luke took my hands in his and pulled me towards him as he stepped backwards and allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, pulling me after him.

For what was the longest time we did nothing, but just lay there on the bed, side by side, holding each other close, pressing our bodies together, feeling the physical presence of the other. From that we slowly progressed. He was such a gentle teacher. Slowly and with infinite patience Luke taught me what I had to learn and gradually I began to lose all those inhibitions that had imprisoned my emotional expression for decades. Under his expert guidance I learned not only to enjoy sex, but also how to give him enjoyment.

He first taught me the exquisite excitement that was generated deep inside me as his fingers encased and milked my engorged manhood. At first he did so very gently and very slowly. Soon my hips began to writhe and I began to moan - little groans of pleasure. My breathing began to come in gasps. I whispered, "Faster, Luke, faster. Oh yes! Oh yes!" Luke did as asked and started pumping faster and faster. Suddenly I lifted my butt from the bed and arched my body as I felt the seed surging within me. Sweet delirium. I pulled my lips away from his and gasped out, "Stop! Luke! It's coming! I can't hold back!" But Luke didn't stop, and I erupted all over his hand and all over my thighs. After a couple of minutes, having learned the lesson, I returned the compliment.

For some time - maybe half an hour or more - we just lay on the bed enjoying the feel of the other's proximity and recuperating strength for the next round. "Luke, sweetheart, you have taught me things I never knew." I brushed his cheek with the back of my hand. "Teach me more."

He began to slide down the bed until his face was level with the centre of my being, my very manhood. I could feel his breath on my body and his lips kissing my erect staff of life. Then his mouth began to engulf the whole organ. It was warm and wet. He began to slide his lips up and down the shaft. Soon that old familiar tingling sensation overtook my body again, that rapturous and awesome paroxysm of sensual delight. When his lips began sucking and milking those familiar sensations flooding my whole being were now magnified thousands of times over. My hips began to writhe and for the second time that evening I began to feel the seed surge within me. Ecstasy. I gasped out a warning, but he did not stop, and my seed erupted inside his mouth.

When I tried to do the same thing to Luke I was not an apt pupil: my teeth got in the way and he yelped. I soon got the knack of it, though, and not only did I pleasure him but also pleasured myself in that I found the feel of his erect and engorged dick, as he called it, under the soft, loose skin to be really erogenous.

After we had been at it for two or more hours, Luke looked at me and said, "Andy, beloved, there is something I want to do with you that I would normally keep for another time. But I can't wait. Will you permit me to possess you completely, utterly?"

I nodded. "I want this, Luke, and I am sure that you will be the best and most considerate of teachers. Just be gentle with me."

Luke got me to lie on my back and then stretched himself on top of me, facing me. I clamped him to me with both of my legs holding his legs down and my hands on his curvaceous ass. Luke leaned away from me, searching for something he had left on the table next to the bed. He raised himself and then suddenly I felt something cold and oily. Luke inserted into my ass a finger covered with some kind of lubricant; then he inserted two, three fingers until the entrance was completely lubricated. Now he lowered himself on top of me again. I felt him enter me and he began thrusting with his hips and in no time at all I could feel his hot seed gushing into the very centre of my being.

When he was done we both lay very quietly, emotionally drained. Still lying on top of me, Luke kissed me gently on the lips and laid his head on my breast. "Thank you, my darling Andy. Now I am yours forever."

By this time we were too tired for anything else. Luke rolled off of me. "Turn on your side, sweetheart," he said, "away from me." I did so. And now, just as on that first evening I felt him snuggle up to me. He put his right arm across me and reached for my chest. I could feel him, warm and tender, lining his body up with mine. Now, of course, he was not aroused, but I could feel his penis pressing against the cleft of my butt.

"I am yours forever," he whispered in my ear. "Rest in my arms."

I felt his lips brush my shoulder with a gentle kiss, so I knew that he remembered too.

"Do it again," I whispered. "Kiss me".

Again I felt the gentle touch of his lips on my shoulder. Then I felt him plant a gentle kiss on my cheek, just as he had done that first night in Athens. I half turned my head towards him and he leaned forward to meet me. His lips touched mine - no more than that, just touched. I sighed a sigh of contentment.

"Go to sleep, my love."

This became an almost nightly ritual for us in the years to come. I would nestle up to him and Luke would spoon me. Then, just as were were about to doze off his hand would move down across my tummy and cover my genitals. It felt so good, so secure, so safe. He would press himself up close to me and whisper, "I love you, Andy". And I would respond, "I love you, Luke." And thus we would fall asleep

Not surprisingly, the following morning we woke late. As I became conscious once again Luke was still spooning me, his hand still where it had been placed last night. Gently and carefully I turned my head so as not to disturb him, but he was already awake! That gentle soul had been lying there quietly so as not to disturb me! When I saw the twinkling light in his eyes I turned over to face him.

"May I always see this beautiful sight when I wake up," he said, brushing the hair away from my eyes.

"That's a prayer," I said mischievously. He considered for a moment and then said, "I guess it is."

"Who are you praying to?" I asked.

He thought again for a moment, then he kissed me on the forehead. "To whom it may concern," he said.

I laughed, and then the laughter died on my lips as his mouth engulfed mine, and it seemed as if we were continuing from where we had left off the previous night. But now I was emboldened. I leaned right over him and took the lubricant that he had left on the table next to him. I squeezed out the ooze and without a word he presented himself for lubrication. When I had done the job as well as I knew how he took the tube from me and squeezed some onto his fingers. He applied this to my engorged organ, smearing it all over. I could hardly contain myself, but he was soon done and lay back again, pulling me on top of him. He guided me in and from that moment nature took over. My hips began to thrust forward and backward quite involuntarily. Despite the fact that Luke whispered in my ear a couple of times 'Slower, slowly', it seemed to me that my seed erupted into the bowels of his being in no time at all. This was my love-gift to him, something that surged up from the very depths of my being and from there surged into the very depths of his being. Ultimate union.

"Thank you, my only beloved," said Luke, languidly. Still inside him, I whispered the same thing as he had whispered to me the previous evening: "Thank you, my darling Luke. Now I am yours forever."

We lay there like that, united, for a few more minutes until Luke said, "We have a plane to catch."

We showered together, dressed and breakfasted, paid our bill and took a taxi to the airport.

On the plane I found our row easily and sat down in the aisle seat. Luke stowed our hand luggage in the compartment above our heads. I had been here before and the old magic was still there!

Just look at that ass! How do I stop myself from touching it? I so much want to put my hand on it, stroke it, feel it.

He was wearing that same open-neck shirt that he had worn then - bright red with a pattern of yellow sunflowers dotted over it here and there and he was wearing that same pair of old jeans.

"Hey, Andy, let me push past you to get to my seat, please."

His seat is right in front of my face! Dare I put my hands there to shove him along, as it were? Dare I?

Of course I did! I pinched his delicious ass as he pushed past me.

He sank into his seat. "Hey, I'll get you for that!"

"Gotta catch me first..."

"Andy," he said, taking hold of my hand, "you have come a long way in two weeks."

"I know, I said, "thanks to you. It's love that did it: God is love."

He thought for a moment and then retorted, "Love is God."


This story is copyright 2002 to Neph, to whom all comments should be sent.

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