He took the boy by the collar and lifted him like a misbehaving animal. I swear, I think he did it with a single, massive arm. 'Faith and Experience in Early Monasticism', 'The Brothers Karamazov', 'Anna Karenina'.just a few of his dense, cold favorites. He changed books every day, which I took it to meaning that he read about a book a day. He'd read all of the strange, daunting, difficult books that kids like me were warned about. When not lecturing or reprimanding or giving orders he was reading or just standing around looking intimidating. He had a Bible passage for every situation. He was the most Catholic person I'd ever known. Strong, stoic face with a gleaming, shaved head that I supposed he had to shave cleanly every morning just as sure as he'd brush his teeth. In between his Bible study I assumed that his primary hobby was lifting things. He had to be upwards of six-five, broad-shouldered and built like an ox. He looked like a Mafia hitman impersonating a priest. If it weren't for the stiff roman color and dark clothes, you'd never guess. Despite this, he was also the strictest person there. He was a young priest, the youngest in the entire school.
I remember wishing death upon everything as I saw who had come to my aid. The door to our room flew open and the sight to be seen was two boys in their night wear, one bleeding and sobbing on the ground while the other was perched on top. I don't know how long I struggled with him but it seemed like a painful eternity. I screamed and held up my arms to block his blows, but he was bigger and stronger than me and he was angry beyond words. I mean, we all do, right? Especially when we're young. I was smart, I had fantastic grades, no one suspected I was different.īut.I made a mistake. I just had to get through it, treat the theology like a game to play, and eventually distance myself from it all when I moved out of the house. No one had to know I was gay, no one had to know I didn't believe in God. When I was done with elementary school, I was shipped off to a notoriously strict Catholic boarding school, the name of which I won't say. I studied the good book, I went to Church, I avoided the temptation of admiring Devon Sawa.whole nine yards. As I grew and matured, I stopped believing in God altogether.īut I loved my family, and so I kept it all bottled inside. No just God would make me a sinner on purpose. I hated the God who would go out of the way to make me different from other boys, to give me something sinful and awful that I couldn't control. From a very young age I remember not being okay with God.
Still, there are millions of word here to read and with all of it being gay, you know you're getting a decent dose of erotic reading material.I'm a gay man who grew up in a very, very devout Catholic family.
This comes with the drawback of Nifty not displaying user ratings or having a comment section for the stories - something that I think other sites do well with.
I'd estimate that there are at least 10,000 stories archived on, but unlike a lot of other sites, it doesn't appear to be all user-submitted content. From athletics and college encounters through to interracial sex and age play fantasies, the world is your oyster on Nifty if it's gay text that you're after. As soon as you hit the homepage of 's gay section, you'll see that they have a number of sub-genres that hone in on specific gay stories. See, when it comes to a good sex story, what I want is a website that makes it easy for me to get down to business. There are a number of gay erotic story sites out there, and for my money, Nifty is certainly one of the better ones.