Date: Thu, 26 Jul 2007 16:47:32 -0700 (PDT) From: SauronTheDarkLord Subject: If Only III - Confirm This With Installment 3 of the If Only series, we move from the campus of the University of Illinois to, well, no where you really need to know. Again, the If Only series deals with sexual activities that are inappropriate, primarily sex between adults and minor children. Enjoy the stories, but don't it try it in your neighborhood. I have never been, by any means, an avid churchgoer. One of the biggest milestones of my life was reaching the age where I was allowed to make the decision about whether or not I went to church. Blowing off Sunday School was never an option, but once I was given the choice about whether to walk home after Sunday School, or stay and be bored to the limit of human endurance...I walked. That, although the timeline may vary, probably reflects the modal experience of people in my age group. Whether it was because Mom and Dad figured that my spiritual development was going to take its course one way or another -- possible -- or they got tired of hearing me complain -- far more likely -- I was emancipated in my early teens. It wasn't until I was in my 40's that I started attending church again. I quickly came to favor the Presbyterian Church, not from any previous experience, but because they seemed in general to employ a more literate clergy. While one possibly might go anywhere and hear a sermon intertwining Hamlet with the tale of David and Bathsheeba, I think your odds are better with the Presbyterians. I had found a smaller church to attend, Hope, relatively near my home. In the congregation I found some kindred spirits, who, like myself, viewed First Presbyterian, with its membership in the thousands, as the Sunday Morning Rotary. However, the individual I hit it off with best was Sean. Sean was in fourth, or maybe fifth grade when I started going to services at Hope. Or that was where he was chronologically. He was probably one of the brighter, more mature people I had ever met at any age. He had a particular love of history, and military history at that. When he found out that I had been in the military during Vietnam I became his living encyclopedia. This in spite of the fact the I repeatedly reminded him that being a Vietnam era veteran, as I was, and a Vietnam veteran, as I was not, were very different. No matter to Sean. I was Patton, Sherman and Julius Caesar rolled into one. We started looking forward to Sundays just to get together to talk. We would replay the Battle of Gettysburg, but with Stonewall Jackson having survived Chancellorsville, to lead the Confederates to victory (not a happy thought, but on the second day it would have been the Union trying unsuccessfully to take Little Round top, not the Rebels). Would the Schliefen plan have been successful had the Germans simply bypassed Belgian resistance? (Hopefully not, but dicey.) There was quite the mutual admiration society. I personally thought that Sean needed to be removed from elementary school and enrolled in a Future Rulers of the World program somewhere. And after I drew out the attack plan for Desert Storm on a napkin from Dunkin Donuts three months before it occurred (not a great intellectual achievement. How Hussein could not have seen it coming is a mystery) I could not have had a bigger fan. (He -- Sean - kept the napkin.) As Sean aged, some of the wide-eyed little boy went away, replaced by a more sober teenager. And inevitably the novelty, for each of us, of stumbling on to a soul-mate faded. But we remained friends, and I know our conversations, briefer now, were no less precious to both of us. Because Hope's small membership, we did not have the massive youth programs found in other churches and denominations. It had been a matter of concern among the pastor and elders, and they decided to try to focus some more of our limited resources on our youth. Ironically, the first youth program they decided to institute, or rather re-institute, was confirmation. The irony lies in the nature of confirmation, which is to transition you out of the youth programs into full church membership. Some churches have the program for 7th graders, some for 8th graders, some for high school freshmen. At Hope, we had the program for Sean, Caitlyn (Sean's sister), and Miranda. As part of the process the individual being confirmed has a mentor. When Sean's mother asked me I accepted instantly. There were study materials, lessons, things to cover and all that. Although I was not enthused about what we were given to work with -- try reading a catechism some time -- I did my best not to short-change Sean. And while his opinion of the materials probably mirrored mine, he did not want to appear to be disrespectful by not making an effort to wade through them. In short, it was a first cousin to the Gift of the Magi. Finally, though, we managed to break through the bullshit. Sean's Mom had usually brought him into town, and we would grab lunch while she ran errands. One day our routine changed. I got a call that morning from Sean's Mom, Char. Caitlyn had had some sort of incident with her braces, and she was going to have to go in to the orthodontist concurrently with my meeting with Sean. Problem was the orthodontist was 60 miles away. "Char, there is nothing keeping me from leaving the office and just driving out to see Sean at the farm." Sean's family owned a 600 acre farm, through inheritance I believe, that they lived on while cash renting the acreage. "Are you sure?" "You want me to run it by my boss?" "Smart ass." She knew I was self-employed. "Tell Sean to hang tight. I'll be out the regular time. Actually, with most of my quarterly client reviews having been completed, I wasn't even sure I needed to go into the office, let alone worry about leaving early. But it sounded good. About 11:30 I pulled up at Sean's farm house. I was fairly sure of my directions, having been to one or maybe two church functions there before, but I was still assured when I saw "Reilly" on the mailbox. "Over here" I heard someone yell. Sean was out on the screened in porch. "Mom made lunch." Yes she had. To me the ideal summer lunch is some sort of pasta salad and iced tea. Char had apparently read my mind. Being in no hurry to get to the subject matter, Sean and I shot the shit for awhile. Then for no apparent reason he burst out laughing. Had his mouth been open I would have been ducking rotini. "What's the matter?" "Caitlyn is going to be so pissed when she finds out you were here." "Why?" "Look at the clothes line." I turned. "What am I looking for?" "All the way at the end." "Hmmm. From this distance I would say it looks like female underwear." "Yeah. Caitlyn's. She'll be so embarrassed that you saw it." "So of course you had to point it out." We shared a laugh. "Well, it could have been a thong." "I can't imagine her in a thong." I don't know exactly what I was thinking but I said "do you want to deconstruct that statement?" "What do you mean?" asked Sean, possibly sensing an intellectual challenge. "You said you couldn't imagine her in a thong. So is it the her part, or the thong part that's giving you trouble." "Oh. I guess it would be the thong. What do you think?" "Well, I would guess living around her you would have some empirical evidence, observational or otherwise, to conclude on Caitlyn. So I guess it would be the thong, too." "So you're saying I check my sister out?" "That implies intent. What I am suggesting is that living in proximity to each other for your entire lives you have probably observed totally by accident more of her ass than the average person on the street." Sean laughed again. "Actually you were o.k. before. She does have a smokin' hot bod. I don't exactly cover my eyes when she runs around in her underwear." "I haven't got a lot to go on with her ass, but from that one outfit she wore at the picnic last summer you could crack an egg on her abs." "So you notice, too?" "I may be over 40, but I am a male, and not blind." "Cool. You don't feel pervy?" "If I slid a mirror under the pew so I could look up her skirt I'd feel pervy. If I'm just lookin' at what she's showin' then no." "I wonder if that's covered in our material." "What, you want to actually do some work?" "No. Kidding mostly. But I haven't found much about sex stuff in there." "Well, it makes sense in a backward sort of way." "Explain." "Well, who is confirmation for? What ages normally?" "I don't know normally. We've never had it since I can remember." "Guess. Reason it out." "Miranda and Caitlyn are going into seventh grade. I'll be a freshman. That's probably the range." "Correct. That's an age when there is absolutely no interest of any kind in sex, correct?" "I'm there now. Since the topic is going to be of great significance to the participants, we need to exclude it from the curriculum." "Give yourself an A." "Only an A?" "A+ requires extra credit." Sean paused. He was really getting into the discussion. "Another reason to avoid it is because most adults will be uncomfortable talking about it. Other than to say don't do it until you've been married for 10 years." "Extra credit earned. Go to...rather remain...at the head of the class." "So, what would you do if I asked you questions about sex?" "Do I get to answer you out of the catechism?" "I think we've ruled that out." "Hmmm. I am not sure that what I might say in response to your question would be doctrinally correct." "You know what I think of that." "Sean, as weird as it sounds, I count you among my best friends. I would answer any question no matter the subject as forthrightly as possible." I knew that I had come across as too serious when Sean added, "so help you B. H. Liddell -- Hart." "I admit that may have been a little over the top, solemnity-wise." "I didn't really mind. I think it's cool that you think of me as a friend as opposed to just some kid." I really couldn't say anything to that. As I sat there, I realized I was never happier than when I was with Sean. "So about sex..." "Whoa. You were serious...I mean not to mock you, but I thought you were messing with my mind." "No. You have a problem after all?" "No. So, what's on your mind?" "So, you don't agree with what the Bible says about sex?" "Let's see. They don't like adultery, and they don't like gay sex." "Pretty much. And you do?" "Mixed. I think if you are married you have a contract, and in that contract is a fidelity clause. I think that if things aren't working out you void the contract and then start looking for alternatives. I don't think you use breech of contract as a way to make the decision for you. So I agree with God on the adultery thing." "But not the gay thing." "I think there is a lot of Hebrew social custom that made its way into scripture and somehow got promoted into the "Word of God" That would be one thing. The sexism you find is another." "I'm confused. Why isn't the preservation of the social order and family part of Hebrew social custom, too, and therefore take it or leave it?" One of the things about Sean was that no matter how much he thought of you, you were never got a pass when it came to discussing things of substance. It was one of the qualities I liked best. We went back and forth for about ten minutes. Never raising our voices, but never backing down. It was exhausting. When we hit a dead spot I asked, "how did we get started on this anyway?" Sean paused. "I think we were discussing Caitlyn's ass." "Yeah. The last thing we agreed on, if I recall." "That's right. And you checked her out, but not in a pervy way." "And it was you, I recall, that conceded after all that that she did have a smokin' hot bod." "You got me. So we just gonna sit around and talk about my sister's ass for the rest of the day." "I could think of worse topics. But eventually it might take its toll." "What it, what toll?" "An extensive discussion of sex, concerning your sister or otherwise, will create stress." "Oh you mean get horny, get hard, something like that?" "I was trying to phrase it more indirectly, but I suppose something like that." "So you get a hardon thinking about my sister's ass, huh?" "Ahhhh..." Sean laughed. "I just so love it when I get you when you can't answer." "You must be happy now" I said. "Hah. You got a hardon?" "Maybe." "My experience is less extensive than yours, but I don't think maybe is an acceptable answer in this case." "Yes, Sean, thinking of Caitlyn's ass has me hard. Satisfied?" "I guess." "And what about you? Same question." "Yeah. For awhile now. Talking about it really has me revved up." "That's why I was thinking we might need to change the topic." "Ah, there you go. We start on sex, and you change the subject." "You are in rare form today, Sean." "I have more fun talking to you than doing anything else." "Why thank you?" "Of course, that excludes checking out Caitlyn." More laughter. "And related activities, I presume." "Such as?" "Hardons, under the proper circumstances, lead to other things." "You're suggesting that I jerk off fantasizing about my sister?" "It could happen." "Why? Do you?" "I asked you first. Why, do you want to jerk off with me or something?" That quieted Sean. Briefly. "You would be o.k. with that?" "If you're going to be an adult in the eyes of the church, I would expect you could choose who to jerk off with." "Should we do it here, or go to my room?" It was a beautiful summer day, we were sitting outside on the porch with our feet up, and no one else in sight. "Here." Without having to ask, both Sean and I leaned forward and grabbed some unused napkins from the pile his Mom had left. I lifted my hips and slid my slacks and briefs down to my ankles. I unbuttoned my oxford shirt and then laid back to check on Sean's progress. He was nearly naked. He had taken his jeans and underwear off, and was pulling his t-shirt off over his head. He was about 5'6", maybe 125 pounds, brown hair, include a patch of pubes that his 4 ½ inch cock emerged from. He grabbed his cock and slowly started stroking. "So what would you really like to do to my sister? Would you like to fuck her?" This from a Presbyterian. "In every hole she has. I just get confused about the order." "I think about fucking her pussy. And maybe a blow job." "You gonna leave that ass alone?" "I don't think I'd fit." "So when you fuck her, is she on her back or her hands and knees?" "Back. What about you?" "She's facing me. She's riding my cock with her legs wrapped around me." I was watching Sean out of the corner of my eyes. He stopped talking, breathing became more shallow, and started doing a neck bridge on the ottoman. I knew what was next. "Uh." Everyone seems to have their own language at certain times. Although when Sean's cum hit him in the chin, I was thinking a more cybersex-like UHHHHHH might have been more like it. With Sean done, I soon finished. I couldn't manage Sean's distance, but mid-chest was pretty good by normal standards. "We're gonna need to carry these napkins out to the burn barrel. We don't want your Mom finding them. She'll know this stuff ain't mayonnaise." "Yeah. Or pesto." We cleaned up ourselves, and the dining area. Hauling the trash out to the burn barrel we gave the evidence of our activity a Viking funeral and returned to the porch. Sean was unusually pensive. I observed, but didn't interrupt. "That was the first time I ever did that with anybody else." "You o.k.?" "Yean. I'm kinda glad it was with you." "I appreciate that. I'm sort of flattered I guess." "I guess now there's other stuff." "Sorry?" "Other stuff guys do." "Well, yeah, that's true." "So you wanna do some of it maybe?" "Sean, I think what happened today happened because things were just right. If things are just right again, we could think about it?" "That's not an adult `we'll think about it' meaning `no, but I'm not going to say it right now'?" "No." "I didn't think so. Just checking." We saw the dust cloud from the gravel road before we heard Sean's Mom's car. She pulled up and got out with Caitlyn. "MOM!" "What, honey?" "How COULD you?" Caitlyn sprinted toward the clothesline and pulled the panties and bras hanging there off and ran into the house. "I'm not sure I get any of that" I lied. "She's embarrassed" Char said. "Tell her I had no idea she wore underwear and that they probably belonged to a neighbor." "Good thought," added Sean," that will take care of it." "You two are no help" Char observed. "I'll go see if I can calm her down." We watched Sean's Mom head into the house. "I had fun today" he stated. "Me too. I enjoy being around you, and the guy fun was a bonus." "More next time?" "Let's see next time." "Promise?" "Promise." Next in the series -- Nifty permitting -- If Only IV -- Confirm That. Thank you for all your comments.