“Preacher Man” is a pillar of his community. He is a pastor of a large church not far from our metropolitan area. He counsels people, helping them get their marriages back on track, find jobs, or a place to lay their heads at night.
But on days when he is not serving the Lord and his flock he is sexing men, sometimes several at a time. He is a serious “bottom,” or male who likes to be on the receiving end of anal sex. There have been times I have literally banged him off and on for hours and seen other men assault him with their dicks, too. We take turns.
It is like he can never get enough dick. Like he wants to get his ass punished and abused for his “sins.” Is it guilt for cheating on his wife? For doing a sexual act that some still consider an abomination, including members of his own church? I really can’t say — we have had some conversations but it seems like I can never figure this guy out or get to the heart of his motivations.
My buddy Andre hooked me up with Preacher Man more than a year ago. They had already swung together in a group of gay and down-low, mostly mature men.. I was one of the newest members of their set. The fresh new guy who had a long black dick and knew how to use it. So Preacher Man was eager to meet me.
We met one evening at a group sex thing at Andre’s. I will never forget he had on red underwear and was laying the bed with a smile, waiting for me to undress and mount him. A drink sat onthe bedside table — cranberry juice and vodka I believe. Preacher Man is a handsome, mature brother, a debonnair, aging pretty boy. He puts me in the mind of that 1970s movie hearthrob BillyDee Williams. Smooth but in a way that is slightly out of date in this age when most down-low men want to project a hard image.
He had been a bottom for years, since he was a teenager. He is more than 50 years old and can remember the days when nobody used condoms and guys just lubed up their dicks with vaseline and stuck it in. He can remember going to mammoth men-only sex parties in major cities on the East Coast. A lot of guys he used to roll with have died of AIDS. He credits the fact he has gotten married with saving him — I guess his wife took him out of circulation while that disease ravaged the gay community.
They have the perfect image. The successful black pastor and his beautiful wife. Sometimes I shudder to think what would happen to him if his parishioners found out.
We started to roll regularly after the first meeting with Andre, hooking up for sex at least once a week. At first the group didn’t even know he was a preacher. And he didn’t even use his real name. One day he called and his true name came up on my caller ID so I googled his name. I thought he was a businessman. Imagine my surprise to find I was pushing up in a man of God?
When I found out that I realized anybody could be down-low. There are no barriers.
But soon having sex with Preacher Man became a chore. You can fuck him for an hour or two hours and he still wants more unless he gets sore. He will arrange to fuck you even when he isn’t feeling well and then have to stop because he is not up to it, frustrating you. He will call you two or three times a day to set something up later. Sometimes I will see his number come up on my cell phone and ignore it because I am too busy. Other times I will give him a few minutes.
“Hey pretty boy,” he will say with his deep, pleasant chuckle. “How you be?”
I have never seen his dick get hard when we have sex and I have only seen him ejaculate a single time. He is such a total bottom all his sexual focus had shifted up his ass to his prostate gland and away from his dick. Old-time down-low brothers tell me that will sometimes happen with total bottom guys. Shit, Preacher Man even calls his asshole a pussy, which always makes me feel a little squeamish and embarassed to hear. He even had a long-time boyfriend he calls his “husband.”
Still he is a great guy. He is supportive and has prayed with me on the phone when I needed a prayer. And given me advice and counseling free of charge. But ultimately everything leads back to when am I going to serve him that dick again.
If he can’t get sex from me he will phone the next guy in our circle. He might be a bottom but he is aggressive when it comes to trolling for sex. How do I know this? My friends call each other and compare notes. He has worn us out and we joke that maybe he should hire an escort to dick him on demand. But what would happen if it was found he was using church funds to buy sex?
“Did Preacher Man call you today?,” I will ask one the guys in our group when they call to say hello.
“Yeah, he did. He wanted me to come by his house and fuck him after his wife left for work,” a buddy will say. “I just wasn’t up to it and told him I couldn’t make it.”
“Yeah, he called me today, too,” I will answer. “I need a break from that.”
Preacher Man attends several church-related seminars and meetings a year up and down the East Coast. He actually prefers to swing out of town to lessen the chances he will meet somebody he knows. I listen to his stories with mild shock. A lot of ministers are down-low, he says. And they can’t wait to get out of town to go to lectureships and funerals so they can hook-up in their hotel rooms and suck and fuck all night.
Look, I don’t want to judge. I am far from an angel. But sometimes I get sad thinking about Preacher Man. In an ideal world it wouldn’t matter if he was gay. I believe God doesn’t see sexual orientation or the car you drive, the size of your house, or how much coin you put in the collection plate. He looks at your heart. And I think Preacher Man really does have a beautiful heart.