This is a work of fiction, although it does build from experiences of the author and people with whom he has spoken. Nevertheless it is fiction. However it is written from a point of view within Mormon culture. That may be strange for some people. Mormons demand a high degree of sexual abstinence. Other than this brief tidbit, I shall resist the temptation to write a glossary of Moromonism or Moromonese for readers. Please consult the other stories about Mormons in the Nifty archive for more background or the numerous published sources on Mormonism.
Despite the demands of abstinence in Mormon life, this story includes sexual activity between males. If it is illegal for you to read this, wherever you are, please do not do so. Otherwise I hope the story is meaningful to you.
The author does not personally subscribe to the theology or ideology of the individual Mormons described in this study, although he finds it interesting to write about. He does retain copyright to the story, however.
Please do contact me if you have comments on the story or its events.
Jason drove around randomly on a Friday night. He seemed to make circles around his neighborhood, instead of taking the path that would lead him home. Today had been a long day at work and he was late coming home. Already it was after dark. Lights were gleaming from most houses in the neighborhood. Some had their blinds drawn tightly, as if to even keep the light of their lamps from spilling out into the street where others could pick it up. But others were open and the light from inside carried a view of different lives and different ways of living that intrigued and worried Jason.
He often drove around after dark and looked into the windows. The colors of the walls and decorations on them, as well as the occasional person moving through a room with a drink in hand, fascinated him. His own house was new. Although he had only recently graduated college with a degree in finance, he was able to buy a house in this new city because he commanded a good salary, an amount that surprised him when he received the offer. It was more than his father made.
His parents lived in a cluttered old rambler, filled with the debris of their lives, Jason felt. He did not want to reach his fifties, like them, and have his eyes look like the closed screens of windows with no one home, no light to make them shine. He saw his parents as defeated and he wanted something different for himself.
His house was new. Even though he had lived there for more than a year now it still had that new smell of paint and building adhesives; but it was growing fainter. His walls were white, standard, clean white, with nothing on them to clutter them and he had very little furniture. He had his bed, to be sure, a king size bed. He felt he deserved the luxury of rolling from side to side and figured that maybe he would find someone to share it with him someday. In his den he had a recliner, but his was leather while his father's was covered in a worn, dirty plaid cloth. Across from it he had a brand new plasma tv.
The only things that seemed somewhat out of order were some leather bound books stacked by the side of his bed. Jason folded his dirty clothes and put them in the basket in his closet. Even in his bathroom, his razor, shampoo and soap were neatly placed in a caddy hanging from his shower and nothing was on the counter. The drawers were neat and orderly. Only the books, although carefully stacked, marred the otherwise spotless and empty house.
Every morning and night, before Jason would kneel by his bed to pray, he would lift them and read for five or ten minutes. They were his scriptures. His parents had given them to him when he went on his mission. Throughout, verses that moved him were underlined carefully, with a ruler to guide the line, in blue or red pencil. He knew their words. He almost did not have to read, the phrases sounded carefully in his mind almost as soon as his eyes set on them in the books.
Jason was proud of his faith. He knew he had a testimony and planned on enduring to the end. His goal was to rise in the morning of the first resurrection with his family and a host of friends and make his way into the presence of God. His house was like a temple to him. He kept it spotless. And so was his body.
He was lean and athletic, although he seldom had time for sports. Anyway he was still new in this city. Sometimes he would get up early on Saturday, or go on a weeknight, to play ball with the guys from his ward, but his work did not always give him time. That was his excuse. For some reason he just did not feel like getting too close to the guys from his ward, though he had a calling. He was one of the gospel doctrine teachers.
Instead he went to the gym three or four mornings a week, generally before work but after scripture study and prayer, to hone his body and keep it a fit place for the Spirit to dwell. Jason was proud of himself and his commitment. Many of his friends, even some of his companions from his mission, had fallen, and Jason was determined he would not fall.
His favorite companion Elder Whetten had fallen. Not long after coming home he had sex with his girlfriend. Jason did not understand how that could happen. Elder Whetten had seemed so strong in the mission field. His eyes would glow with the spirit when he bore testimony. He was a zone leader and frequently rumored to be a candidate for AP. But he had fallen.
Just before moving to this city Jason was a witness in the temple when Elder Whetten and his girlfriend knelt across the altar in the room of endless images and made covenants with each other. Jason was so happy Elder Whetten had repented, made his way back into full activity, and married in the temple. He hoped when the resurrection came that Elder Whetten would be one of the friends Jason's patriarchal blessing mentioned that would be there with him. He was so handsome and so spiritual Jason wanted him beside him. But tonight Jason was restless. His driving was jerky, instead of the smooth arcs and straight lines he normally accomplished. He did not see the windows around him, and he hardly was aware of seeing the cones of light marking the path in front of him. He just felt twisted in an urgency that he did not want to be aware of. So he drove and kept the chatter in his mind to a tense silence. His arms would yank the steering wheel, making a turn a bit too tight, as his 4Runner would lean a bit too much to the side. Then his legs would push too quickly on the gas pedal and the Toyota would jerk forward until he had to quickly brake to keep from going too fast. But his mind was still.
He was restless and his mind was still. He wanted his mind to be still. He could not bear the thoughts. If he could keep it still then it would open room for prayer and he knew he needed to go there, but he could not do it yet, there was just such urgency. He drove and drove, bouncing through the streets, without really knowing where he was. He just drove. If he could keep control over the SUV he could keep control over his mind and body. So he drove. Time passed and he was not aware.
When he felt he was in control he drove home, planning on taking a quick shower, lifting his scriptures, saying his prayers, and going to bed. He had things he needed to do around the house tomorrow and he wanted to get an early start on them. It was one of the few Saturdays when he did not have to take work home.
He eased into the garage, locked the SUV and closed the garage door, went into the house, dropping his briefcase by the door, and entered his room with the scriptures and his expanse of a bed. He hung his suit jacket on a cedar hanger, as he did his pants, after removing his wallet, keys, and change and neatly arranging them on his dresser. His dress shirt had a faint smell when he lifted it briefly to his nose, so he buttoned it and folded it before placing it in his hamper.
He stood there for a moment in his garments, white with the embroidery of the covenants he had made in the Temple that were so important to him. Often he meditated on what it meant to give all his life to building up the Kingdom of God. He planned on doing just that. He knew his knees would soon bow in prayer and he knew he kept the law of chastity, although sometimes he awoke with his garment bottoms soaked and stained with his semen. But only in sleep did that happen. Never when he was awake.
He still had control over his mind. It was empty, as he wanted it to be. He had put a lock on and had that urgency blocked, so he pulled his garment top over his head and folded it carefully, and respectfully, before placing it in the hamper. He pinched the sides of his garment bottoms and the elastic stretched slightly around his waist as he pulled them down his defined legs with their sprinkling of hair, before folding them too and placing them in the hamper.
He walked to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He peered into the mirror while the water warmed. He knew his face, with its angles and planes. It looked firm, and committed with everything in order, just as he wanted, although he could feel more tightness in his jaw than usual. After looking for a while into his own eyes as if to make sure no stranger had somehow taken residence, he quickly turned to the shower. He closed his eyes, secure that he had accomplished what he wanted, as the water flowed down his body.
After soaping and rinsing he got out and dried himself. A calmness entered him and he was looking forward to reading just a few verses of scripture, before saying his prayers and drifting into slumber.
At his dresser he opened a drawer filled with his well folded and pressed garments. He looked at them for a minute and then, almost without thinking opened another drawer where he had his jeans. Before he knew it he pulled a pair up his legs and around his loins. They hung in a way that accented his well toned body and he felt pleased, although he was definitely not thinking. Instead of a garment top he grabbed a t-shirt from Nordstrom and draped it over his shoulders and chest. He quickly put on his shoes, grabbed his wallet, coins, and keys before he could think, and returned to the garage.
This time Jason drove purposefully. Gone was the jerkiness, the tension. He drove without thinking. He had his mind calm, although something still lurked down there. He could feel the careful, long arcs and straight lines return to his driving.
He drove directly to a seedier side of town, where a line of men were waiting to enter a door. They were dressed like Jason. He parked in a lot of SUVs and cars, making sure to hear his horn bleat to signal his doors were locked, before he joined the line of men, some in groups laughing and playing with each other and others standing a bit apart, although still in line, obviously alone and slightly nervous as they waited to enter.
Jason, with his mind still, went to the bar and ordered a vodka martini. It was a drink of an older generation but he liked the vermouth and vodka. Somehow it helped him keep his mind quiet and it was something his father would never drink. As he sipped he looked around the room and saw many eyes focused on him. Each was different. Some had light and energy, others had a dimmer switch that seemed to make them glow for a second before reducing the wattage and pulling the shades.
A pair of green eyes, shining in a tanned face below a shock of dark hair caught his eyes. He looked into them, drawn in, without a thought in his head; he just knew he liked those eyes. He kept looking as a smile eased the tension in his face.
He stood and walked towards them, leaving his almost finished martini at the bar. "'Sup" he said as they bumped fists and then touched each other. They talked, but Jason kept looking at the eyes, green with flecks of different colors. He could see them even though the room was shadowy and he kept looking as if inside them were something he needed.
Almost without speaking, but drawn by the rapid thumping of a trance of music, they walked to the dance floor, found a place among the crowd and began moving. Somehow Jason lost his t-shirt and his jeans slid down, revealing his hips, as they pushed up against his now sinuous abdomen.
Jason kept looking into the green eyes as they came closer to where they were dancing almost on top of him. He felt hands measuring his hips and the now revealed tops of his gluteus mounds, as well as the beginnings of the valley between them.
The eyes looked into his, and he felt good, energized and alive. His mind was quiet, but there was not room for it between the hands now sliding up his sweaty back pulling him closer and the lips so close he could feel their breath.
Jason woke up Saturday mid-afternoon with a shock. He did not know where he was. He felt someone spooning against him and realized suddenly that he was naked. They both were naked.
The light of afternoon was hard against his eyes and Jason closed them and then opened them several times rapidly to make them adjust. His mind felt a panic enter but he quickly used his discipline to silence the dissonance of fear. He looked around and saw his pants crumpled on the floor next to another pair of jeans. He did not see his t-shirt. There was only one t-shirt on the floor.
He lifted the arms that encircled him and slid himself away as he heard the other man groan softly and turn to his stomach before returning to sleep. Jason grabbed his jeans and quickly pulled them up his legs, noticing that his garments were missing. But he wouldn't let himself think. He looked around and could not find his t-shirt, so he grabbed the one on the floor and pulled it over his chest and walked quietly but fast out the door. "Whose apartment is this" he wondered briefly as he worked to keep away the memories of the eyes and their impact on his body, particularly how they looked half closed towering over him as the face beat with the impact of abdomen against pelvis. "Be calm. Be calm. It will be ok." He kept saying in his head until he could get his mind to go silent again when he found his 4Runner in the complex's parking lot.
His keys were in his pocket and he pulled out of the lot with a bit too much gas. Jason did not pay attention to the streets so he really did not know where he had been when he arrived home. He just knew he had been driving. Anyway it was Saturday afternoon and he had work to do. Somehow much of the day had passed. He had to take care of his house. He had to mow the lawn and wash his clothes. He had to get everything ready for the Sabbath. He had to prepare his lesson for the Gospel Doctrine class. There was so little time. Jason slid his 4Runner into the garage and somewhat breathlessly entered his house. "I need to change" he thought, without allowing more in. So he went to his closet, slipped down the jeans and wondered why he did not have garments on. He lifted the t-shirt and sniffed it briefly. It had strange and strangely attractive musk. He held it out to look at it and did not recognize it. "Where did I get this" he wondered briefly.
As he walked to the shower he felt the hairs on his chest and groin pulling strangely. He looked down. He noticed crusts of off white that made some strange pattern on his chest and groin. "Wow" he thought "that must have been some dream. Why didn't I take a shower this morning?"
Jason quickly showered, put on some garments with his work clothes. He lifted his hamper and removed all the garments there and took them to the washing machine. He carefully placed them one by one inside and made sure the water temperature was hot and that he added the right amount of detergent with bleach, before he went to the garage, fired up the mower and went to cut the grass. He was pleased as he made careful cuts at the edges to make sure the lawn was mowed cleanly. In his mind he began to think about what the next lesson was that he had to prepare and where he would find supplementary material in the scriptures.