I knew deep down within my closeted soul that there was something gay about him. The fact that he liked the finer things in life wasn’t a clue, although it should have been. The fact that he was English and spoke with an accent wasn’t it either. There was something about him that screamed gay…I just couldn’t put my finger on it…but I intended to find out.
It was 1997 and I was around twenty – six when I decided to start flirting with the local parish priest. He was recently installed as the new pastor and everyone at St. Mel’s was going gaga over him. Although he was forty – eight, he was the fresh new thing on everybody’s mind.
In the next couple of posts, I’m going to recount an eight year affair that I had with a Roman Catholic priest and the life lessons I learned from it.