Message-ID: <3115eli$9708181207@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/3115.txt>
From: author22 <author22@ix.netcom.com>
Subject: LITTLE ROCK! Mama was a Preacher Chapter 3B of A/B/C (M/M) ADULTS ONLY!
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.gay,alt.sex.first-time,alt.sex.masturbation,gay-net.erotic-storys,alt.sex.magazines,gay-net.erotic-storys
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <33F85CA3.517E@ix.netcom.com>


--------Beginning of Chapter 3B of A/B/C----------

That deep feeling began to generate. It started as before with what 
at first felt like a tickle far down inside of me, working its way up. 
Then that trigger happened, it felt as though a rubber band had been 
released, or the string of a bow had let an arrow fly. At the same time
his 
own prick stood rigid, and propelled several drops of cum which hit 
me on the lips.

My little cock was still buried when he leaned over, put his lips to 
mine, stuck his tongue in my mouth, then whispered. "Wow, that was 
good".

After putting his shorts back on we walked back to the barn. After 
seeing me climb up the ladder he disappeared in the direction of the 
house.

Jimbo was still soundly asleep as I crawled in next to him, wondering 
what Peter had enjoyed so much.

An arrogant rooster woke me at just a little past six. Jimbo yawned 
and stretched. "Gotta take a piss." He pulled on his undershorts and 
pants, tucking his little stiffy inside pointing up. "Where did you go 
last night?"

I thought my absence had gone undetected. "Just had to take a leak."

The question was answered, the subject was now a thing of the past.

The other two boys were already in the kitchen when we entered the 
house; neither were wearing anything other than their jockey shorts. 
Steven asked if I'd slept well, and Peter gave me a big smile and a 
wink. 

"John, what would you like for breakfast." Jimbo looked surprised at 
Peter's interest in anyone other than himself.

"I don't know. I guess what ever you are having."

"Then you are in for a treat. I'm going to make me an Omelet. Raisin 
toast, and bacon."

"What's with you shit head".

"Steven, don't use that kind of language." Mr. Hay came into the 
kitchen.

"Peter is acting weird. I've never seen him cook his own breakfast 
much less anyone else's."

"He is finally growing up and showing some good manners.  Which is, 
more than I can say for the rest of you."

Jimbo and I were the only ones at the table who were wearing pants, 
and I felt over dressed. 

Peter brought two plates to the table putting one in front of me. 
"Milk or coffee?"

The other plate he put on the other side of the table facing me.

All of the others were busy eating their breakfast, faces buried in 
their plates. 

"Hey Peter, that Omelet is really good."

He looked up from his plate, smiled, and said, "Thanks. Just thought 
you might like something special to remember us by." As he said that I 
felt his bare foot caressing my ankle. My cock immediately responded. 
I dropped my fork. Reaching down to retrieve it I saw Peter, and his 
cock was very stiff, pushing his shorts away from his body, creating a 
sizable tent. He winked at me as I continued to eat my omelet.

The sound of a car foretold the arrival of Jackie. The Hays had intended 
to drive me to the revival tent. Jackies arrival was unexpected.

The entire family gave me hugs and squeezes. They said they were
disappointed 
to see me leave. All of the boys had chores to do. They promised to be
at 
tonights meeting.

On the way back to Cottendale Jackie told me that he had a long talk 
with Mama and the Gregorys. I was the subject of the discussion.  Soon I 
would be fourteen, and school would be a problem while traveling the 
gospel circuit. Theater people were in the same situation. They resolved 
it by providing a tutor. Jackie had offered to become my teacher as well 
as playing piano for the services. He would go to the Arkansas Board of 
Education and find out what would be required; what would be expected. 
The Gregory's only concern was whether or not there would be enough
support 
for five people; there had been times when there was not enough for the
two 
of them. Now it had grown to five. Mama pointed out that the collections 
had more than doubled since we had joined. So it was probable that
Jackies 
presence would more than pay for itself. Finally, it was agreed that
Jackie 
would leave his car with his Grandmother in Memphis, and travel with
Mama and 
me. If there was not enough support, then Jackie would return to
Memphis.

It was after two in the afternoon. I was alone trying to pick something 
out on the piano, one finger at a time. Jackie was at the Board of
Education. Mama and Ruth had gone grocery shopping, and Ray was
preparing 
his sermon for tonights service.

A tall, lanky fellow wearing brown slacks, white shirt, and a sport 
coat came into the tent. "Is Steven Hay here?"

I looked surprised. "No, but the Hays should be here for this evenings 
meeting."

"I think he'll be here before that.  I talked with him this morning. 
My name is Harry Wiser. My dad owns the radio station next door."

Harry turned and started to walk away, then turned again "Tell him 
that I was here. I've got the four to eight shift at the station. He 
should come over."

"Mind if I come with him? I'd like to see the station."

"You are welcome, but why don't you let me give you a tour right now. 
It's more than an hour before I have to start work."

Even though Harry was only 18, he looked older. He didn't have that 
outdoor youthful appearance that ear marked the Hays as being farm 
boys. He and Steven had attended the same high school. Both of the 
boys shared an interest in science and electronics. He had been an 
amateur radio operator for more than four years. 

The station was housed in the small building less than a hundred 
yards from our tent. The front door opened into a tiny office with 
only one desk, and a file cabinet. An old underwood typewriter sat at 
a movable table. The chair was comfortable looking, but well worn. The 
wall behind the desk had a glass window through which you could see 
someone at a control board, talking into a microphone. Beyond that was 
another window through which you could see the KLRA transmitter.

Unlike KWHN, KLRA had no studio, and seemed to have only one microphone 
and two record players. A door to the far left of the desk was
the only access for the man at the control board. The only "On The 
Air" sign was made of cardboard, thumb tacked to the door. The hand 
lettering read: "QUIET! Probably ON THE AIR."

Harry put his finger to his lips signaling me to be silent. He pulled 
the door open and ushered me inside.

The man behind the control board was reading the news from the Arkansas 
Gazette. After reading something about hog futures, he shifted his
attention to a sheet of paper in a loose leaf binder, and read a 
commercial.

He reached over to one of the two turntables, and in rapid succession 
hit three switches turning on one of the record players, connecting 
the pickup to the audio board, and turning off the microphone.

"Harry, glad you are here already.  I'm supposed to go see Morgan 
White at the Funeral Home. He want's to start a new advertising
campaign."

I was introduced to Harry Wiser, Senior.

"The transcription for The Old Time Gospel Hour is already on the 
table and is scheduled for three o'clock. There won't be any commercials 
as they paid for the whole hour. Wish we could get more clients like
that." 
His dad was already out of his chair, and on his way out of the room.

Junior pointed at a corner chair, and suggested I pull it up next to 
his at the console. "Sorry to cut the tour short, but you've seen all 
there is to see. But why don't you stick around, I'd like the 
company."

As the recording came to an end he signaled me to be quite, hit two 
switches on the console and began reading the next page in the loose 
leaf binder. "And now from the world tabernacle, The Reverend Fuller 
and The Old Time Gospel Hour." His left hand switched on the turntable, 
the 16 inch disk began to rotate, another switch and the Old
Time Gospel Hour was on the air.

"KLRA is a family business. Dad is owner, station manager, program 
director, and sales manager. I'm chief engineer, and disk jockey. 
Mother works the board from 8 P.M. till we go off the air at midnight. 
Then all three of us have breakfast 'On the Air' after the early 
morning news at six."

Harry was looking through a stack of records, creating three separate 
groups. "One of the problems we have is that all the record companies 
send us free records, hoping we will play them. Most of the time we 
select them by title, never having auditioned them.  Of course the 
ones that our listeners like we set aside and play them more frequently. 
But we do get some real dogs. Why don't you look through that stack and 
see if there is anything that appeals to you."

By the time the transcription had come to an end, we had created three 
piles of records: the ones that appealed to me, the ones that appealed 
to Harry, and the 'Bow Wows' as he called them.

"Television has just about killed night time radio, so Dad let's me do 
pretty much what I want between five and eight. Daytime is still a 
pretty hot item; housewives, people driving in their cars. Mother's 
program is local current events, we figure that our local audience 
will abandon the TV in favor of listening to themselves or their 
neighbors on the air."

He put his finger to his lips, reached over to the console and 
switched on the microphone. "We have a new recording from one of my 
favorite gospel groups. The Hamlen Brother and 'Heaven Came Down and 
Glory Filled my Soul."

Harry caught the odd expression on my face. "What's up?"

"The Hamlen Brother's pianist is our pianist and my teacher." 

"Far out. Think he would come over and talk to me on the air?"

"I don't see why not. He's at the Little Rock Board of Education 
trying to find out what he needs to be my traveling tutor."

Harry asked me to go back to our tent and wait for Jackie.

At the piano I continued trying to pick something out, one finger at a 
time. Mama came in looking for a hymnal. I told her about being next 
door at the Radio Station and that they wanted to talk to Jackie on 
the air. She started to leave, but then turned back to me. "Be sure 
and have Jackie talk to Ray before he goes next door."

Mother had hardly left the tent when I heard Jackie's coupe turn into 
our lot.

"Hey Jackie," I waved at him as I approached the car. "Two things. 
First, Steven Hay's buddy works at the radio station," I pointed 
towards the KLRA tower. "I told him that you were the pianist for the 
Hamlen Brothers, and he would like to talk to you on the radio. Then 
Mama said you should talk to Ray before going over there. When you are 
ready let me know and I'll go with you."

He walked toward the bus. Knocked on the door. Paused a moment, and 
then entered. I returned to the tent.

Ruth kept a pile of different hymnals in a box next to the piano. I
looked 
through them trying to find that song Harry had played on the radio. It
was 
in the fifth book. 

I put the book on the piano and began to poke at the keyboard trying to
pick 
out the melody. The score had three of those dumb flat symbols which
made 
the music sheet useless. I didn't hear Jackie come up behind me. My 
attention was focused on the paper. 

"It goes like this sport." His fingers brought life to the keys on the 
right side of the keyboard. "Move over."

He sat down, and started from the beginning. "Come on, let's do the 
first verse. 'O what a wonderful, wonderful day." His voice while well 
modulated lacked timbre.

My voice sought the same note as his, and as I sang, "I will never 
forget; After I'd wandered," he shifted his tone down 2 notes, creating 
an unexpected, and rather exciting harmony. I broke from the
lyrics, "Wow! I really like that. Can we take it from the top."

"How soon are the people at the radio station expecting us?"

"Harry asked me to bring you over as soon as you returned."

"We'll play with the song when we come back." 

"What did Ray want to talk to you about?"

"He asked about what I had learned at the Board of Education. But I 
think the main thing he wanted was to try and get a plug on the 
radio."

As I opened KLRA's front door we could see Harry leaning into the 
microphone reading something from the loose leaf binder. I pointed to 
the "Quite! Probably on the Air" Sign, and watched him switch off the 
mic before opening the door into the control room. "Hey Harry, this is 
Jackie Marshall."

They shook hands. "John, drag in that chair from the office."

We sat on either side of Harry. For the next hour he alternated between 
playing an album of Hamlen Brothers Gospel Music and talking with
Jackie and me. Jackie told of some funny happenings that the brothers 
had encountered while performing. Then he guided the conversation to 
what he was doing now; the revival meetings. 

Quite unexpectedly Jackie explained that he was concentrating on 
training me. Harry asked what we were currently working on. The reply 
mentioned three things: "Daddy Sang Bass", "Heaven Came down and Glory 
Filled my Soul", and "Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling," a capella 
solo.

This was pretty much news to me. The a capella solo had never been a 
solo, it was a duet between Jerry and me. "Heaven Came down" we were 
PLANNING on doing something with. Only "Daddy Sang Bass" had we ever 
really worked on.

Harry asked that in as much as there was no piano in the control room, 
"Would you sing 'Softly and Tenderly." 

I really didn't want to, but they had put me in a corner by asking me 
"On the Air"; I couldn't refuse. 

Harry swung the microphone toward me. I took a deep breath, and
sustained 
B above middle C and held it for the entire measure. Again a
deep breath, and I sustained the D above middle C, and held it for the 
entire measure. Then during the next measure I shifted rapidly from D, 
to F Sharp, and down to E. For the next measure it was again D, F, and 
E. 

Jackie motioned for me to be silent for the next measure. Then, almost 
as though he were conducting an orchestra he paced me through the 
lyrics. "Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling." As I started the word 
"calling" he put the fingers of his two hands together pulling them 
apart in a stretching motion, elongating the phrase. The second 
"calling" in the verse was of normal length.

Altogether that hymn has 66 measures, and it seemed like a lifetime, 
as he lead me through the entire piece. 

"Outstanding!" was Harry's response. "Are you going to do either of 
the other two songs at tonights meeting?"

Jackie said, "Probably".

After we had finished the interview, Harry said he'd like to run a 
microphone line into our tent. Then if he heard something he thought 
his audience would like, he'd simply switch to that microphone. He 
would signal that we were on the air by turning the light on in the 
transmitter room.

When we got back to the tent, Jackie sought out Ray to tell him about 
"KLRA's Remote Broadcast" then returned so we could practise on both 
"Daddy Sang Bass", and "Heaven Came Down".

While we were working at the piano Steve Hay came into the tent carrying 
a microphone stand and a reel of cable. Then rolled up one of the
tent side pieces so that there was a direct view of the KLRA building.

Everything was in readiness as the seven o'clock hour approached. Even 
though this was a week day, more than half of the seats were occupied. 
Ruth stepped to the front of the platform to start the singing.

She started with "Little Church in the Wildwood." She had glanced to 
her right, seemed surprised, and drew Jackie's attention to the KLRA 
building; the Transmitter Room light was on.

The light remained on during the next two songs. Jackie motioned for 
Peter Hay to come over to the piano. "Go next door and tell Harry they 
forgot to turn out the light in the Transmitter Room." Then he added. 
"That light was to be used to signal us that we were on the air."

Peter was back within 5 minutes. "Harry said to tell you it isn't a 
mistake. The PTA meeting that Mrs. Wiser was to air tonight fell 
through. Something about the transcription turning out bad. Anyway, 
unless you folks object, their going to carry the entire service."

Jackie told Peter to repeat that message to the Reverend Gregory.

AND EVERYTHING CHANGED!

Before the services were half over the tent was packed. Then more cars 
started to arrive, and park in our lot. The passengers remained in 
their vehicles watching the services while listening to the broadcast 
on their car radios.

Ray asked Mr. Hay to organize "collections" so the people in the parking
lot could have the opportunity to be part of the services.

Ray's sermon was more dynamic than any I had here-to-for experienced.

The excitement went beyond the novelty of being on the radio, as it 
captured every person in the audience, even those sitting in their 
automobiles. It was ELECTRIC.

It was close to midnight before everyone had left. We were too drained 
to even attempt to clean up or count the collections.

The sleeping arrangements had to be changed, as mother usually slept 
in the big bed in the back of our trailer, while I slept up front on 
the converted couch. Now that Jackie was living with us he and I 
shared the big bed, and Mama slept on the couch.

She was already asleep as we entered the trailer. We took turns
showering, 
and then hopped into bed. During the night I had, again, drifted across 
the bed, and awoke snuggled in Jackie's arms.

"John." It was mama's voice coming through the bedroom door. "Sister 
Ruth wants me over at the bus.  You can sleep in a little longer, but 
when you do get up, both you and Jackie come join us." The outside 
door closed. I snuggled closer to Jackie.

His dick was just where Jerry had kept his: between my legs, the head 
resting against my scrotum.

Mother's voice had not awakened him. So boldly, I lowered my shorts to 
my ankles, replacing his pole where it had been. I squeezed my legs 
together imprisoning him between my thighs. 

Still there was no awakening sounds. Daringly, I began rocking back 
and forth, his member sliding eventhough it was gripped between my 
muscles. It seemed to be getting both warmer and larger. His arms were 
already around me. His biceps began to squeeze my chest, as his hips 
mimicked my motions. His right hand moved down the length of my body 
till it touched my own little rod. Hastily his hand moved below my 
throbbing member, cupping the head of his own, capturing his own 
juices. Just a moment went by as we laid there in full contact from 
head to toe. He moved his hand back to my waiting rod now slippery 
with his own substance. His hips now moved against my buttocks, pushing 
my cock into his hand. Our combined motions, the thought of my
cock being immersed in his substance, the feeling of warmth and
slipperiness 
quickly brought me to that point of no return. My muscles
tightened, my abdomen spasmed, and then I relaxed sinking back into 
the warm, loving arms for my mentor.

"That's the second time you've woke me that way. You'd better take a 
shower. I've left quite a mess between your legs."

"Mama said we should join them as soon as we are dressed."

"Brother Jack! The Lord has blessed us beyond measure," were the first 
words spoken by Reverend Gregory. "Absolutely beyond measure. God 
works in mysterious ways.

"Last nights turn out was far from what we had expected. And the way 
people kept driving in to our meeting, and listening to our service on 
the radio was astounding. Then this morning we counted the offerings 
from last night." He paused, breathing deeply, "Five times more than 
we have ever before received.

"And it all happened because the good Lord led you to the people at 
KLRA."

Mama and Ruth were both smiling from ear to ear. "Ray just got back 
from talking with Mr. Wiser. The gifts from last night were enough to 
pay for our broadcasting every service during our stay in Little 
Rock."

Mama added, "We need to organize our services. We are counting heavily 
on both of you boys for inspirational music. Sister Ruth will try to 
keep everything running smoothly. She will work with Brother Gregory, 
you two boys, and myself. If any of us have questions, we'll get the 
answers through Ruth. Brother Ray and I will preach on alternate days. 
I'll be giving tonight sermon, and here is a list of hymns I'd like 
you kids to practise."

Jackie took the list. "We'd better tidy up before we work on the 
music."

The area was a mess. Empty bottles, scraps of paper. Jackie had picked 
up something on a stick, and laughingly beckoned me to see what he 
had found. It was a long white balloon like thing. There was a small
amount 
of liquid on the inside.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's hard to believe but someone got lucky last night during 
the meeting."

"Why lucky?"

"Don't you know what this is?"

"No. I've never seen one. What's it for."

"If you are screwing a girl, you put one of these over your cock so 
you won't get her pregnant."

I looked a little closer. "If that's cum on the inside, the guy didn't 
do much. You made three or four times more than that this morning."

He slid the rubber thing into a paper bag along with the other liter 
we had collected.

Next we evened up the chairs.

Finally we were at the piano. "What do you want to do first?"

"Let's run through the list your mother gave us, then we can spend 
some time on the specialty numbers. I like what you did on the radio 
yesterday afternoon, how do you feel about it?"

"You mean 'Softly and Tenderly?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, I guess, as long as you're leading me with those hand signals."

We were almost half way through the list when Steven Hay came into the 
tent. "Have you seen Harry yet?"

We hadn't and told him so. 

"Well, Harry and I have got an idea that will knock your socks off."

In unison we said, "Oh?"

"It was really Harry's idea so I'll wait for him before telling you." 
He turned toward me, "Your mom asked if we could add an extra 50 feet 
of microphone cable. Got any idea why?"

We didn't.


------ End of Chapter 3B of A/B/C -------------

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /