Cream Cheese Puffs

  
We went to a Vietnamese/Chinese restaurant that served cream cheese wontons for dinner. He stared at me from a table behind my parents the entire evening. I flirted back. He was in his 50s. I was 15.

Our meals ended at the same time, and we found ourselves at the cashier together. My father paid the bill as I excused myself to the bathroom after batting my lashes at the person the authorities would label a pedophile. He followed slowly behind me.

The bathroom door had a lock, which he swiftly locked behind him. Pants unzipped. Our cocks were hard and in each others' hands. Nerves caused gagging, and I left.

"You were in there quite a while," my dad said.

"I had to go number two."

"I hope you washed your hands."

I hadn't.

I masturbated to the lingering smell of old man cock on my hand until my mother forced me to shower a few days later.

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Priestly Bathroom Encounters

  
Father Paul claimed he talked to God and divined his greatness. It was Father Paul that recruited me in to seminary. He approached me one day to talk about why I was there, about the trouble I was causing by being who I was. "Jason, my son, can you tell me why you are here?"

"To be closer to God, Father. I want to be a priest." I replied.

"Well my son, I am afraid you can't be a priest because of who you are. I think you should leave the seminary," he said.

I saw Father Paul a few months later in a public bathroom cruising for sex.

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