Epic breasts
I was a young man at Bethel about 30 years ago, back in the early 80's and I had promised myself I would NOT be one of those guys that got kicked out of Bethel. It seems that this was not all that uncommon.
Guys got kicked out for fighting, they got kicked out for being lazy and not working, they got kicked out for hurting themselves and then not being able to work. They got kicked out because they ticked off the wrong guy, and they got asked to leave if they just generally had a "bad attitude". I knew of guys that got kicked out for flirting with somebody's wife, for stealing, for listening to "devil" music, for looking at porn, for calling in sick too much, for bringing in a weapon and for being engaged and then not getting married. Actually, you could be asked to leave for so many reasons it seems they made up new reasons daily to kick people out.
But by far the biggest reason for getting kicked out of Bethel was for immorality. Sometimes gay immorality (or so I heard) but usually it was just plain, old fashioned, heterosexual encounters with single sisters that did them in. You see, there we were, young men at our sexual peak, basically walking boners, and we had better not do ANYTHING about it. No quarter given for that kind of behavior from us horny little bastards. One mistake and we were gone!
Well, back in my home congregation I had left all that. I actually had spent most of my young life up until that time getting into trouble with girls, over and over again from as far back as puberty, heck, maybe even before. At one point in high school, my parents were too busy to go to meetings and I had my time with worldly girls who didn't have qualms about having sex like witness girls did and so I had lots of it with them. But I eventually was "saved" from all of that by a caring brother. I tried over and over again to be good. I didn't want to die at Armageddon, but my penis was getting in the way of that hope. This damn thing was going to be the end of me yet. So I buckled down and tried to pioneer and so on. I did it long enough to apply for and get into Bethel and I thought that would save me. After all, I would be in Gods house. All men there would be my big brothers eager to help me out and patiently understand my situation right?
Yeah. Right.
Anyway, once I was there I realized I was on my own. Worse, there was a war afoot that I didn't anticipate fighting. You've heard of Spiritual Warfare? How about Germ or Nuclear Warfare? That stuff is for sissies. In our minds, we fought the hardest fight: Sexual Warfare. Yes, we were sure that some sisters waged this because they themselves figured out that if they had sex with a horny Bethelite, that would be a straight ticket to marriage-ville with a "good brother" and, best yet, once he confessed he would probably get kicked out of Bethel. Thus, you could then both start your new life and marriage away from that darned institution. Smart sisters they. Foul temptresses, evil daughters of Eve we thought.
It seemed that some guys were clueless about this, or, they knew and didn't care. Others like me were scared of this situation. Having sex wasn't new to us and we just didn't want to leave in humiliation like that and that certainly was no way to start a relationship either. So, we were careful.
Well, in my congregation there was a couple of sisters who were actual sisters to each other and I came to be friends with them. I flirted with them of course, but I never gave it a thought to date or get too close to them because that would basically be like crapping where you ate. They were in my congregation and any weird stuff between us would only lead to many months or years of misery. Better to maybe screw up with other girls, but not ones right there in your face every week in your congregation. Unfortunately, one of these girls happened to have the one thing that mattered the most to me back in those days: she had breasts that could only be described as EPIC.
Let's call her sister Mary Mams. Now Mary was a nice girl and cute enough, though not beautiful, but then again, who cares? She had those epic breasts. When we spoke alone in the congregation, we were never really alone, there was me, her and her boobs, always butting in on the conversation too. These breasts were rude. They seemed to be trying to jump out of her blouse as well. She covered them up properly as a nice witness girl should, but, being epic, they had a mind of their own. They were always talking to me too: "Hello there big boy. We're here! Look at us you nasty little man. Let us out! Come and play with us!" and so on. I loved and hated those breasts.
Whenever Mary caught me looking at them, she always smiled. She knew what I was doing and I quickly pretended I wasn't doing what I was doing. We never really spoke about it, but it was a stupid game of chicken I was playing with her (and those breasts) and Mary seemed to enjoy it.
One day my room mate wanted to get to know her sister better and asked for me to arrange a "group" to get together. (If you don't know why we got together in groups, see my previous post by clicking on my JWN name LivingTheDream, then click "Topics Started", then "Bethel Memory #5") The group would be the two sisters who were sisters and him and me. Now you must understand that back in Bethel, one of the million rules we had to follow was that if you were alone in a room with a person of the opposite sex that was not your blood relative, you had to leave the door to your room open. This got weird one time when my room mate's grandmother came to visit him. He was out for a little while and there she sat on his bed, waiting for him to come back to the room, looking like a giant prune in a Jackie Kennedy outfit. Yet, I had to keep the door open so as to not give the impression that I might not be doing improper things with grandma. Brilliant rule!
But I digress.
One way around this rule was if two brothers were with two sisters, we could close the door then. So, we asked the girls in, closed the door and we each eventually paired off and went to our own sides of the room. It's another long story, but my friend had a very big room and I eventually moved in with him there and so we actually had some real alone time with these girls because the room was so big; we were on our own sides of the room. Well, my room mate was busy with the sister, doing some intense flirting, and there I was with sister Mary Mams on my bed. Now I liked Mary enough, but I didn't really want to do anything with her and just planned on talking and flirting. She changed the game. She started to tickle me. I tickled back. The tickling got more intense and we started thrashing around on the bed giggling like crazy. Next thing I knew, BOOOOIIIINGGG! Her blouse actually flew open! There were her breasts in a very sheer see-through and skimpy bra staring directly at me! They actually did come out to play! I didn't do this to her blouse and neither did Mary, these darn breasts did this on their own. Epic breasts were like that you know, they couldn't be controlled. Mary just opened her mouth in mock horror.
I stared.
Time stood still.
Mary giggled but made no move to close her blouse.
You know in the movies how they show your life passing before your eyes just before you die? They show flashes of a million scenes all at once and then you die? Well, that happened to me, except my Bethel life flashed before my eyes and then my future humiliation of returning back to my congregation as a horny sinner also played out. Then Armageddon. Then I was dead. All in a few seconds.
I jumped up like I was electrocuted and said to her quickly "I'll let you get that". I went over to the others and started talking to them while Mary fiddled with her blouse. My friend and Mary's sister didn't notice what happened. Whew!
The next time I saw Mary was at the congregation. She never treated me the same again after that. It wasn't that she was mean to me or that she did anything in particular to me that was bad at all. No, but she definitely lost interest in me completely, that much was clear.
I think those epic breasts told her to do that.
LivingTheDream