Elder Dalton - Ordination | Exclusive Gay Content | Adult Gay Videos
Elder Dalton sat on the edge of the white altar bed, more aware of his fidgety knee than usual. His nerves were getting thebetter of him as he patiently waited to meet with Bishop Hart. He knew that today was the fulfillment of his calling, his ordination into the Order, and he couldn't be more anxious. As he checked the buttons on his sleeves, keeping himself neat and presentable, he couldn't deny how excited he was. Not only for the ordination into higher priesthood, but to feel Bishop Hart's hands on his flesh once more. Read moreHis mind wandered into where he was just a short period ago: a naive, virgin boy just beginning his missionary journey. He'd never even touched his own cock before Bishop Hart stroked it first, igniting his passions fantasies for the first time. Even with his modest experience since, he felt he had so much more to learn and discover.and Hart seemed to hold the map to those exciting feelings. Just as he felt the tip of his cock rouse itself up from between his legs, he saw the door of the room open in the corner of his eye, demanding his full attention. As his head turned, he saw Bishop Hart enter in his full-white attire. His shirt clung to his athletic body, pressed down by the tight straps of his suspenders. Hart's tie drew Dalton's eyes up from his loins to his handsome face, stunning him with his sly smirk and square jaw. Dalton's felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the full visage of the handsome leader, amazed by just how powerful and sexy he was. He felt instantly that he had no place being entered into the Order, being nothing like his charming superior. He wanted to speak up and say they'd made a mistake-that he wasn't ready and that he wasn't worthy. But before he could muster the strength to make a sound, Bishop Hart put a hand on the boy's shoulder, disarming him from making any kind of action. Any action, that is, except for reaching out for the bishop's crotch, as if stroking a prize he aspired to earn. Bishop Hart couldn't believe how beautiful Elder Dalton was. The boy's big eyes looked up at him with such respect and adoration, it was like looking down on a loving puppy happy to see his master return home. Hart leaned down, bringing his mouth to Elder Dalton's, giving him a kiss to quiet apparent nerves and remind him just how worthy he was. Elder Dalton's heart raced as he tasted Bishop Hart's kiss again. He loved him more than he ever thought possible. It was like there was a fire burning inside him that spread out to his entire body, even out as far as his lips. He wondered if Hart could feel the heat from within him as they kissed. Hart pulled on Dalton's tie, bringing the missionary up to his feet. Even standing, he was still a few inches lower than Bishop Hart. The young boy felt a little lightheaded, still nervous about what was ahead for him. Bishop Hart could see the boy's anxiety in his eyes, stirring up his emotions and his arousal and making him desperate for guidance. Hart knew he had to control and give this boy the space let go and give himself completely over. The older man pulled at the tie again, this time loosening its knot and opening up the boy's collar. His hands moved down his shirt, button by button, working to remove the boy of his clothing and his tension. To Elder Dalton's surprise, Hart's dominance and assertiveness calmed him. He didn't have to worry about what would happen, he trusted him. He trusted him to take care of him, to love him, and to make him feel what he's supposed to feel. As each button slipped from its hole, it was as if an anchor was cut from his body. Be the time his shirt was off, he felt he could practically float. Bishop Hart ran his hand over the boy's newly revealed garments, embracing the boy's smooth, flat body, excited by the view of his nipples peeking through the sheer fabric. He paused his actions, wanting to remember this view and this body forever. As he stood still, Elder Dalton felt the void from his displaced fear filled with his arousal. He needed this man to fuck him more than anything else. Bishop Hart felt Dalton's hand brush against his cock, trying to sneak a feel as he stood close beside him. Hart smiled, happy to find his boy eager to proceed, and continued to remove his clothes. Elder Dalton stood submissive and still as the older man removed his belt and unzipped his zipper, forcing his pants to fall under its own weight. The boy's garment shone brightly against his skin, the white fabric calling Hart's attention as it narrowly concealed the boy's genitals. Bishop Hart couldn't help himself, he had to touch him. He had to see him with his hands, exploring every perfect curve of his buttocks. He ran his hands over the boy's garment bottoms, feeling the boy from behind, clenching into his soft, supple flesh as if it could run through his fingers. His excitement moved him to dip below the fabric, feeling the perfect texture of his skin on his experienced hands. Boy skin was like nothing else, he thought to himself, cupping the boy's buttocks in his hands. Bishop Hart sat Dalton back on the daybed, pressing him far back into the furniture's depth. The young man's legs stretched out, giving Hart the room to remove his socks. His passion for him grew and grew as he saw more of him unsheathed, taking him in every way possible. As he lifted up the boy's small, smooth, soft feet, he felt compelled to press them against his face, smelling them and tasting them. They were clean with only the slightest fragrance, a gentle note of natural boy sweat, barely detectable as he kissed his way from top to heel. Elder Dalton watched the handsome older man worship him in this way. His hand reached for his own swelling cock, hardened beneath his garment shorts, stretching the fabric as his excitement grew. He felt silly to have doubted his worthiness. He trusted Bishop Hart more than anyone else, and if he felt he was ready, he wasn't going to deny him. Bishop Hart could have spent the rest of the day kissing and worshipping the boy's gentle feet, but his appetite went far beyond just his soles. Standing up, the older man removed his tie and shirt, peeling them away with haste as he felt the bulge in his pants become more and more uncontainable. Seeing the fire in the man's eyes, Dalton leaned in and assisted by unzipping the man's pants, keeping his hands close to the source of the bulge, eager to feel the full weight of it once freed. Once down to his garments, Bishop Hart removed his top, exposing his perfect, tan, smooth skin. Dalton loved the way it wrapped around his muscles, making his soft to the touch but hard underneath. Hart took off the boy's top, too, giving him unfettered access to his smooth, pale boy skin. Dalton got off the daybed and fell to his knees, almost worshipful of his superior. Feeling emboldened by his erection and desperate to take him, the young missionary pulled down Bishop Hart's pants, watching intently as the older man's cock fell down in front of his eyes. He studied it. The crown of the head, curving around to top the long, veiny shaft. The way it swung in the air, a mere inches from his face. The young boy took it in his hands, holding it by the root, lifting up the heavy, full testicles of his leader. It was hot to the touch, warmed up by the rush of blood all around it. No longer able to resist himself, Elder Dalton closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put it into his mouth. As it moved past his lips, he let out an exhale, feeling as the big, throbbing member feeling the cavity of his mouth, resting on his tongue and becoming awash in his excited saliva. He could taste every part of it from tip to base. He wanted to feel it in his throat, pushing it back as far as he could take it. He wanted it inside him, filling him, fueling him. He could smell the subtle pheromones in the older man's crotch, his skin and pubes creating a musk that filled his nose and lungs as deeply and powerful as his cock filled his mouth. Even just the feeling of it weighing down his jaw excited him, making him feel purpose and beloning. He became slightly dizzy and light headed again. He wasn't sure if it was the sensory overload that came from worshipping the man's cock so devoutly or the long, held breath he was maintaining in order to keep his throat full of the older man's cock. Either way, he knew he needed more. He needed to not just taste him, but to make love to him. To feel his hands on his hips and his balls on his ass, taking his shaft deep inside him until he cried out for permission to cum. Bishop Hart watched as the boy worked his cock, observing his passion and submission as he gagged and sustained his efforts. He felt his cock get harder, pushing further into the boy's throat, making him choke just a little. As much as it amused him, he wanted to make love to him as well. Before they were done, Elder Hart would be ordained a priest in the Order, full of pride and purpose, but especially Hart's thick, creamy load. Read less
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