The Preacher with the Gigantic Hands and Horse Cock

Grantville in Georgia is a small community two hours from the bustling city of Atlanta. Here, the famed evangelist Graham Atwood made his home. Atwood was a magnificent-looking man in his early 50s, well over six foot, a solid, broad-shouldered torso, a handsome, square-jawed face, and thick wavy black hair flecked with silver.

His custom tailored suits fitted him like a glove, and his round, beefy, ass was a magnificent sight to behold, as many lusting males in those parts could tell you. It was obvious that Atwood was hung like stallion, as his tailored suit trousers left little to the imagination.

Atwood only preached to all-male audiences, and, over the years, had "baptized" many of them personally. Under his costly yet conservative suits he wore A-shirts that emphasized his broad chest, and tight, old-fashioned button-front boxer shorts, that revealed a massive set of horse cock and bull balls up front, and a broad, proud, masculine rump in the rear.

He loved having some hunky fellow suck his huge preacher's cock through the fly of his shorts, and he was more than willing to return the favor. As his awesome gluts always attracted so much attention from his male brethren, he was no stranger to spanking, paddling, rimming, fucking, or dildos. Graham Atwood saw no reason to be ashamed of his sexuality. The Lord had made him gay, and he was determined to enjoy that lifestyle as much as possible. Atwood, in short, was not only a highly-gifted man academically, but also was blessed with something many hate-mongering "preacher men" had none of....humility AND commonsense.

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At the moment, this distinguished, sharply-dressed evangelist sat in his dignified, wood-paneled study, deep in thought. He knew he needed another man to help him carry out the word of the Lord to his loyal masses. He knew this man, of course, also had to be gay, but, more importantly, this man had to be unattached.

For it was Graham Atwood's dream to preach the Word with another manly fellow at his side....a man who would be his best friend, his confidant, his right-hand man, his bed partner, his lover. Suddenly, his thoughts were curtailed by the chiming of his doorbell, and he got up out his leather desk chair to answer it. When he opened the door, he Atwood felt his thick horse cock start to throb in his expensive suit pants. A man was standing there on his front step, tall, handsome, only slightly balding. He, too, wore a tight-fitting suit, and his crotch revealed a well-packed basket.

"Excuse me, Rev. Atwood?"

The handsome stranger replied "I am John Baxter, and I'd like to talk to you if you have time."

"Brother Baxter, please, come right in," Graham Atwood extended his broad hand in a gesture of friendship and brotherhood.

"DAMN," Baxter thought, feeling Atwood's powerful grip encase his own strong hand "Would I love to feel this paw wrapped around my dick!"

A moment later, both well-dressed men were seated in Atwood's well-furnished study. "What can I do for you, Brother Baxter?" Atwood asked, his piercing blue eyes sizing up the hunky Baxter through his bifocals.

"Well, Rev. Atwood," Baxter replied, feeling his cock start leaking lube into his boxers "I'd like to talk to you about preaching with you.......traveling with you.......LOVING you!"

That last statement jolted Graham Atwood's bulging, trouser-encased nuts like a thunderbolt, and his huge cock stiffened even more, now a VERY prominent bulge behind the fly of his grey suit trousers.

For a moment, Graham Atwood made no reply. He KNEW that John Baxter was INDEED the man he had been looking for. But, before anything formal could take place, he knew he must "baptize" Brother Baxter into the fold.

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