Work Text:
"Pope John the 12th. Do i even have to go on? The guy's a fricking legend! He puts the lord in lordotic horses fucking and probably the D in Dionysus once he gets to heaven." The spry young man gushed to a stranger who had offered to pay for his drinks.
"I mean, like, come on, like, he has accomplished so much. He's turned the sacred palace into such a sweet ass brothel. and all by the age of 20. God. He's so cool." the boy almost whined. "too bad he would never be interested in someone like me."
"*sigh* Now why do you say that?" The stranger asked in a deep voice. The boy was talking for so long he forgot how deep it was. And it was like, really deep.
"..uhh.. what?"
"Why do you think the pope wouldn't be interested in you?" the grizzled stranger asked.
"Oh uhh, haha, yeah i mean cuz he's like the pope? The church is kinda Not About that mlm life."
At this the stranger locked eyes with the boy and raised his eyebrow to a perfect 90° arch. "That so.." He said under his breath, then finished his drink while the boy flustered because of the prolonged eye contact.
Slamming his empty glass and some money on the table he rose to his full height nearly hitting his head on the tavern ceiling. With his bear fur cape he could easily enough be mistaken for one. It has happened on a few occasions. those poor, mislead hunters... he shed a single tear for them. After a mournful breath he made his way to the tavern door.
"Wait!" The young man yelled after him
"Where are you going?"
The stranger looked over his shoulder, face obscured by the bear fur: "I hear there's some holy shit that needs to be fucked out of a certain popes ass."
_ _ _
POV change: you are the grizzled stranger.
_ _ _
You felt something deep, deep inside of you while listening to the young man talk about this pope. Something greater than you. Guiding you to a feeling you had never experienced before. You knew it was divinity and you knew what you had to do now.
You walk up to the sacred palace gardens. The historically accurate smell of flowers which existed in the lifetime of John the 12th flud your nostrils. Not unlike how your dick is about to flood the pope's ass with your sweet sweet man juice.
The flowers look enchanting with their firm vines and swirling shapes. the light weaving through the plump foliage of the trees cast everything in a divine light. the place somehow looked both neatly manicured and as though no human had stepped foot on it before. The whole vibe was like God was looking down upon you as the vines untangled and a soft breeze blew from behind welcoming you in.
The beauty didn't stop with the garden. The doors to the palace, standing tall and assertive, were enamoured with golden weavings. All the furniture inside crafted with the utmost care and attention to detail. The colour scheme alone was enough to make one cum.
Luxury italian made chairs. Designer closets, of italian design. Tables made with high quality materials: Bocote; Bubinga; exc. Use: indoor/outdoor (depends on the product) Free shipping!
"It looks exquisite and not at all like what you expected from what the locals called 'a regular whore house'." You thought to yourself while opening the next door, immediately greeted by the sight of naked women scrambling on the floor to collect chestnuts while a group of men watched. "right then."
You regained your composure and asked: "Which one of you is the pope?"
All curtains in this room were drawn shut. the light coming through the door behind you cast a glowing outline around you.
"I am." The voice of a scrawny man ecoes into the room. "You here to join the fun?" The pope asked with a smirk, his jawline popping - almost as sharp as the wit in his eyes.
"I have heard the word of god. That word is cum and I am here to spread it... All over your face." Your words were unwavering as you stept deeper into the room. Now that pope could see you better. His eyes trace over every inch of your immaculate body. From the bulging biceps creeping out from under the bear fur to the huge outline of your dick pressing against your favorite pair of jorts. He saw the scars left by hunters who thought you were a bear and in turn you saw the lust in his eyes.
"God has sent me here to fuck the daylight out of you. And i will be his messiah. Only if you'll have me of course."
The pope agrees, they have rad gay sex, it's awesome.
[something something, pun about the second cumming, something]
The End.
