Chapter 6: Past-Gasm Orgasm Future Tense and More

As I reflect it appeared my chance for bolting from the scene, running away naked, evaporated with the strange familiarity developing. “uhm...”

This person, a nun, was too young appearing to be from my past. That is, I assumed her to be talking about recognizing me from the years I spent in the parochial way up to grade twelve. After that I was off to graphic arts training transitioning to Hawaii and a biology major, drafted in the Army, so on, all a mix now of just plain old confusion, fear and anxiety. And she was holding my penis! She seemed to be enjoying herself. How could this happen?

With two bottles occupying my grip I glanced to Sylvia who was arranging food on plates. She looked at us and smiled with a wink and kept busy. My gaze slowly returned to Sister Jane who was also smiling. “uhm.” I had no sensible response. How could I? Then Sister put her other hand on my penis to full focus massage the forbidden. “Surely you’re remembering a little aren’t you?” I wasn’t sure yet there was an odd familiarity, sure, could have merely been her black robes and oddly I remembered the smell of warm weather perspiring nuns in grade school, vegetable soup.

“I’m sorry. This rush of happening is seriously too much, somehow. There’s so much going on in my head, kind of a headache and I don’t get them, ever.” She released me and took the bottles out of my hands to set them down by Sylvia. She was swishing her feet in the water, seemed so very pleased with the situation. Then she put her hands on my hips and pressed me to turn around, slowly kept prompting me saying, “You are looking great, you know? Don’t you think so Mrs. Jordan?”

They both seemed so jovial. There was a feeling of some kind of success with the idea they were promoting and I felt compelled to ask, “How can you be doing this to me?” “Why, what do you mean?” she said. “Well, like you are feeling my penis and giving me an erection, aroused, and you’re a nun.” “Oh, come on.”

With my back to her she pushed me to bend over. I did without even thinking, really, still needing more information and she kind of adjusted me more to feel up my butt crack. This wasn’t giving me any explanation yet felt warm and not exactly unwelcome. I craned my head around to look at her. “Does this help?” she asked. She rubbed up-down a few times and stopped to begin pushing into my anus with her fingers.

She spoke to Sylvia who was watching the goings on. Gesturing, “Do you have any, you know?” Then it felt like her fingers were greasy, maybe, and she pushed more. “You see?” She was speaking to both Sylvia and I, bringing it to Sylvia’s attention. “You’re pushing out to let me in.” “What?” “Instinctively you’re pushing your anus out, right? You aren’t even thinking about it. You’re just doing it and I know you aren’t of a sexual preference for doing that normally. And now I’m putting more fingers into you. Does it bother you; does it hurt?”

I felt intrusion but it wasn’t so bad, really not bad at all, and I kind liked it although didn’t want to admit it. And she kept pushing. I glanced at Sylvia and she had a look on her face somewhere between a smile and surprise growing to utter wonder. “Do you have your hand up inside him?” she asked.

[The checkered past, my life, was slowly evolving in my head yet so confusing, seemed beyond any explanation and there was always the religion thing I abhorred]

Our friend the nun pushed further, then adjusted herself a little more to have a better angle and she put her other hand on my stomach to leverage, to push me up bringing my penis into view for Sylvia to see. Sylvia kind of gasped. “Oh wow!”

I looked down and my erection was notably longer, bigger and seemed to be growing, now moving around. I didn’t say anything; just watched. There was movement on the surface of my stomach from inside and then my penis started kind of twirling and gizem started spitting out, accent to the twirling. “What’s happening?” Sylvia asked excitedly.

Sister Jane kept working her arm in me as the action got more and more exaggerated and I was feeling something familiar, somehow not afraid. How could that be? Sylvia had come over to have a better look as she stared into my face. She got much closer and didn’t seem to mind the spray. She put a hand on my chest and over my heart, kept watching. “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Is he going to be okay?”