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I (male) occasionally kneel for and blow a man of the cloth (a minister/preacher/priest for those of you unfamiliar with the term) who I also consider simply a male friend. I am no longer in that church community but I still s*** him off when he asks. I was fairly well known in that church, and routinely participated in the usual activities. Married, with kids, but this was going on in the background. Changed churches only because of moving to a different part of the city.

This whole thing came about as a result of me confessing my s***** trespasses to him at a time when I was extremely upset with what I had been doing with others. He was not predatory or manipulative, it was not done to blackmail me. The first time it happened, he and I were talking in a setting and context that had no bearing on his role or the church at all. If anything it was a confession on his part. He told me he understood what I struggled with, but from the other side, unable to quell his desire and lust, but as opposed to being the one who pathetically and compulsively gave pleasure, like I was compulsively doing, he could not break his compulsion for receiving it. I think in that conversation, he would not have brought himself to ask, but he did not need to. We were both in a place of legit upset and pain, and I think that if either of us was guilty of starting it, it was me, because in that sensitive moment, I dropped to my knees and said…please let me.

Over time we had conversations about the immorality of it and the “positive” that we each had in the other a safe sane outlet for our compulsions. But it went the other way too sometimes, it seemed we were both trapping each other and ourselves in an endless cycle of shame, regret, sincere desire to stop what we were doing, and inevitably one or the other of us unable to keep ourselves or each other on the straight and narrow. At some point we both stopped tearing our own and each others’ heads apart and agreed that if either of us needed to stop, it would be accepted by the other.
So to this day, it occasionally happens. As I write this, it was 3 days ago.

I once asked him if it was my duty or penance for a number of immoral/out of wedlock s***** acts with women or men I occasionally commited. In the past, because once I started doing this with him, I refrained from doing anything with anyone else.

I asked if providing this to a man of God was the karma/tradeoff to redeem myself. I asked if I was perhaps even doing something that was some fucked up form of public good that protected him or others from lust. He said it wasn’t, that while it was sin for us both and we would both be paying the price for it some day, it was simply misplaced lust on both our parts and that no matter how I was married and had equal lust for women, it was simply that I liked giving my mouth to a man for his pleasure, and that he enjoyed being on the receiving end of me doing that. He told me to not use those concepts as an excuse to keep doing it, to accept that this was at best nothing more than each of us committing a sin in a safe way with a safe individual.

That conversation was early December 2018. Sometime in January 2019 I got a call from a member of that church that I had known, just calling to say hi/catch up. When I met him for a drink, he told me that our mutual minister friend had told him that perhaps I could help with what he was goinf thru because I had gone thru something similar. My alarm bells went off immediately, I listened with caution. But while it was about a high libido and struggle with s***** urges and act outs, it seemed a safe conversation. My suspicions seemed wrong. But when we walked out and passed his car first, that changed quickly. My minister friend had told him what my compulsion was, and he takes my hand and puts it to his crotch and I feel his erection. I felt utterly helpless and betrayed, and then I am willingly following him to someplace safe and sucking him off.

Afterward was the worst I had ever felt about what I did. The next time the minister called me I went, fully intending to confront him about telling someone else about my shame. But when I walked into his home, he was already exposed and erect. It was only while I was on my knees with his p**** is my mouth that he asked me if I had heard from and seen the mutual acquiantance. The fuckee up part is the tears pouring from me as I nodded and then he was ejaculating in my mouth. I learned there really was a lower place to be/feel. He told me we both just needed to accept what we did. He told me that there was someone else I would probably hear from who needed my help.

And yes as I said above, I last did that 3 days ago. I have done it with that mutual friend twice since. I heard from the someone else that “needed my help.” I have not yet met that someone, but I know I will and I am hoping somehow I can be strong enough for myself.

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I lost my virginity to my mother, but it was not like it was loving or e***** or passionate. It was not a loving thing. I was a late bloomer and knew nothing about my own body or s e x. It was just her and me. I was 14 and had recently experienced my first w********. I was confused by all that but afraid to ask her. She found it on the sheets and waa disgusted and derogatory about it. She accused me of whatever m a s tur bation was (i did not know) and got otk bare bottol spanked. I was made to wear diapers to bed so that i did not mess the sheets. This was in cloth diaper days, so guess what, as soft as they were i accidentally discovered how it felt to sleep on my stomach and grind my hips against the mattress. An important point is that my g e n i t a ls had not really developed as far as growing larger, so a cloth diaper easily contained me when aroused. She just kept getting angry and spanking me. Ended up forced to sleep in her bed because she was tired of washing diapers and did not trust me not to abuse ot degrade myself. So over time i began to attach to the brief glimpses of her dressing or u*********. What little i saw was fascinating. I could not risk grinding to get off sleeping in her bed. And the spankings were rough. Rarely bruised but extended and very painful, i usually ended up in tears. One day i was walking down the hall to the bathroom and passed her (“our”) bedroom door, it was half closed. I saw her standing in front of a full length mirror, only in panyhose, her back was to me at an angle but i saw her reflected in the mirror. Bare breasted modest breasts, very large prominent n******, broad hips, classically shaped bottom. I stood there frozen and gawking as her hand was fondling her breasts and one of her hands slid down into her pantyhose and was moving. I felt something i could not describe and instinct had me opening my pants and touching myself. Not stroking just fondling myself. No surprise she notices me and gets angry, storms over to me, snatches me into her room, angtily calling me dirty filthy etc. Tells me it was not fair that she had to go without because of being a single mother and she wasnt going to go without any more because of me. Said i was hopeless and an abomination and she was sick and tired of having to watch over me when i would nevrr change. Told me to stand there and watch like a dirty sicko if i wanted to watch so bad and could not control myself. So i stood there afraid to touch myself with her right there in front of me and i watched confused as my mother resumed pleasing her body as if i were not there. I went back and forth between directly watching her and watching her reflection. She only noticed me again when she had caught her breath and saw i was fondling myself still, and she mocked me and called me pathetic for being whatever a dirty little j******* was and not being able to even do that right. She screamed at me to get out and i ran crying. She only ever mentioned it by telling me i was going back to my bed and still sleeping in diapers. I ground myself to climax over and over night after night and she ended up making me do all my laundry. Things changed after that. She fed and clothed me but i only existed after that. She pretended i did not exist and began no longer caring about closing doors or what she wore or did not wear. Told me i was going to be dirty and look so why should she not get to act as she wished and hidjng herself as a woman from my disgusting peeping. Over time it was not uncommon for me to walk by her open bedroom door and see her openly mas tur bating in many ways. Yes i always watched. Yes i always fondled myself. But i had not actually mas tur bated to o r g a sm yet. That came one day when i stood watching an extended period of her self pleasure as i was still fondling myself watching from her bedroom door. She got angry and called me pathetic that i couldnt even be good at abusing my body like a creep. She got a bath towel and laid it on the floor and made me stand on it and instructed me to take my p e n i s between my thumb and finger and directed me how to pleasure myself with my own hand. It was earth shattering as i had that o r g a sm and barely kept my feet. All she said was to make sure the towel was in the laundry. After that it was unspoken. If i saw her mastur bating, i got a towel to stand on when i watched. She would sometimee be naked or nearly so in the house and i would get a towel and do my thing and she paid veru little attention to me. It evolved to me even standing right by her bed and even kneeling on her bed watching closer. One day i forgot to get a towel and was kneeling beside her and came so fast it was on the sheets and across her stomach. She was very angry and i had to get a towel and clean her then change and wash her sheets too. We went through a period where i was pleasuring myself so much that i would watch but did not finish myself and would go to my room to finish. One day she found me touching myself and seemed genuinely worried that i was isolating myself and was degraded with the threat that i was never going to be a man. That hurt and angered me. There came a day when i was atypically bold and knelt between her legs watching very close and curiousity got the best of me. I reached out and touched the dark hair between her legs. She froze looking at me but did not say a word and i began to touch snd investigate more. She continues to fondle her breasts and even reached down and spread herself wide open. See that she asked me? That is what a real man wants not always jerking himself like a little boy. She even instructed me as i touched her. I assisted in her climax for the first time. After she even said it was a shame i did not have a real man’s body. She even tolerated me touching myself and squirtng on her belly and between her legs. This time she was gentle verbally. Asked me to get a towel and clean her up. The next time i did not act fearful. I got just as close and touched like i wanted. My world changed when she reached for me and pulled me onto her and had me rub against her. But she also mocked.me for how fast it happened and for not even being big enough or last long enough to get it inside. I was so hurt and angry. That night she woke when i climbed on her bed while she slept. I still remember how i hated her words. Look at you trying to be a man and take what you want. Just do what you are going to do with that dirty little thing and let me sleep. Not a word as i lay on her fumblimg for entry until she reached down and guided me into her. I was only just big eniugh to enter and get past the ring of muscle. It was unreal amd draining as i quickly climaxed inside her wet heat. Wben she told me to leave and go back to bed i knew i would be back. I was never allowed to stay the night in her bed but most nights i would walk in and she would just open her legs and tell me to do what i needed to do. I cannot imagine how many times this happened day after day. Silent resentful s** with grudging consent. All during high school. Frequently on the way to and from work when i got a job and moved out. Holidays. I would go over and she would be in the kitchen cooking and not even miss a beat. She would be wearing a dress and i would enter and stand behind her g**** her breasts and grind my hips against her and she would put her elbows on the counter, and i would grind against her spurting between her cheeks or thighs since even as an adult i am too small to enter from behind at all. Always told just do what you are going to do. All of it silent even as i cleaned her of my pathetic sin with a towel. Evem now when i pleasure myself i still see her looking at me with contempt, hear her telling me to just do what i need to do with that dirty little thing. I got therapy and finally broke free of my s***** addiction to her. But she is still the only one that i have had s** with and i am in my 40s now. I pay an e***** to hold me and be momny as i touch myself and she calls me her pathetic dirty little sicko and j*******.