The Mission - Chapters 1 - 3 free porn video

Disclaimer: This story is a work of complete fiction and my imagination. It's my very first story too, so go easy on me. Your comments and feedback are very important to me and I do plan to continue this story as a series until I think the story should end. Please do not use or re- post my work without permission. I can be contacted at [email protected]. The Mission by T.L. Chapter 1 I'd say it was like any other Sunday. My dad calling from downstairs, wondering if today would be the day I was up and ready for church on time. Unfortunately for him, my gaming habit delayed my bed time slightly. It was the weekend after all. It's not like I had school today. "Jayce!" "You're holding us up again. We've talked about this!" My dad was kind of old fashioned. Fifteen minutes early is late and all that. Born and raised in a Military family with Mormon values bred a man on a mission. To my dismay, that mission was to turn me into something that remotely resembled him. "I'm up..." I yelled, trying to hide my grogginess. "I'll be right down." I looked at the clock as I rolled out of bed and zombie walked to my bathroom. The perks of having two incomes in the family. My dad is a broker and makes a 45 minute commute to the city, and my mother ran the church daycare. She had already left with Mrs. Walker earlier in the morning as my dad preferred the 11:00AM service so we could all do lunch afterword. I relieved myself before making my way to the sink to brush my teeth. Walking by the mirror a thought had crossed my mind that I should probably put away the Mountain Dew. I wasn't fat or pudgy by any means; 150 lbs soaking wet, but I knew as long as I ate the way I did, I'd never look like the wrestlers at school with the healthy diets. The price I paid for mouth orgasms I guess. What I lacked in physical stature, I felt like I made up for in humor. Girls love to laugh after all. I would need to forgo the shower this morning. Time was not on my side and I could sense the barometric pressure in the house rising the longer I spent getting ready. I pulled my "good" slacks on and donned my button up. A quick mirror check confirmed that I'd need to sport a comb for my ride to the late morning service. If my dad had it his way, I wouldn't be needing combs or gel. Call my abundance of hair a way of sticking it to the man in a subtle way. I heard the horn blare from the garage which broke me from my rebellious daydream. I ran down the stairs and hopped the couch toward the garage door. I gave my dad a knowing look as I crossed his view to the passenger side door. "It's going to be a long ride," I thought to myself as I climbed in and buckled my seat belt. Oddly enough most of the ride was just the sound of the oldies. Such a waste of the premium sound system the vehicle boasted above the dials. I could sense the wheels turning in my dad's head though. The more I thought about it actually, he wasn't on my case half as much as he used to be. I imagine I should have noticed it before today. I immediately did a mental audit of my short comings for the week. 1. Forgot to take out the garbage on Tuesday. 2. Allowed my dad to see my disaster room on Thursday. 3. Saturday I may or may not have clogged the toilet and left it. 4. I think I can count my tardiness this morning as a blunder. Seeing as how we weren't going to make it on time. Four that I could think of off the top of my head and no discussion. Something was up. The last mile of the drive I could feel the wheels in my head turning too. My Dad broke the silence as we drove into the parking lot and looked in vain for a spot remotely close to the church. "I'd like you to meet someone today after service, Jayce." He looked at me as he spoke. "His name is Bishop Price. We've been speaking the past few weeks and I think it would do you good to hear what he has to say." "Sure, Dad," I replied knowing full well I was going to get the: Come to Jesus talk later. Or at least that's what I thought it would be anyway. "What's this all about?" I asked because I knew how much of a big shot Bishop Price was around these parts. Most people got the hand shake and a pat on the back, but it seemed like Mr. Price had taken a genuine interested in our family's well being. Although we hadn't been formally introduced, I had seen him conversing with my dad as of late. "I just think it's time we sat down and talked about your future," he spoke and as if in a hurry to explain. "You only have one more year in high school and I don't want you sitting around on those games forever after you graduate. You haven't shown an interest in college or the military and I'm scared you aren't planning your future as seriously as you should." I could tell that it was as if he had been wanting to talk to me about this for a long time. I wondered for a second why he waited until today to bring this up, and what Bishop Price had to do with it all. It was true that I wasn't really in a hurry to grow up. The closest thing to a real job I had was a steady lawn mowing gig through out the summer. College didn't really appeal to me that much and the thought of getting shipped off to a desert somewhere was down right blasphemy in my mind. I sat in silence as we parked a good ten rows back, but nodded to acknowledge that I had heard my Dad's words. Service took longer this week, or maybe it was all the thoughts running through my head about what my Dad had told me earlier. To make things worse it seemed like Bishop Price was glancing my direction about any time I dared look his. I made a mental note to put my focus on the speaker today because I knew it would come up in my discussion later with my Dad and the Bishop. I had a hard time following the message. Something about the importance of trust building and honesty in the family unit. I figured this was common sense. I wasn't much of a rebel in practice, mostly daydreams when things didn't go my way at home, much like Ralphe in the Christmas story. My head was filled with all sorts of random thoughts. "Jayce! It's so nice to finally meet you," beamed Bishop Price. I must have been out of it because our row was now clearing out and Bishop Price had somehow closed thirty feet in 10 seconds to introduce himself. Holding his hand in my direction I gave him a warm smile and replied, "Nice to meet you too, Bishop Price, how are you doing today?" "Hungry... These messages of wisdom always give me a terrible appetite. Would you folks like to join me for an afternoon lunch?" I looked at my Dad and back at Bishop Price. "I think we have to wait another fifteen minutes for Mom to clean up, but I guess as long as my parents are okay with some extra company at lunch today." My Dad gave the nod and we began our way to the day care room. On the way we chatted a bit amongst ourselves about how the church was growing and how proud he was of hard working families like us who are making it all possible. As we stood around waiting for my mother to finish up I learned a lot more about Bishop Price. He seemed a lonely man and put all of his time and effort into his work here at the church. It seemed to show as we have been seeing attendance rise over the past couple of months. He let us know that after his daughter left for college it was only him living in a decent sized house. His wife died a few years ago after a long battle with MS. He didn't look a day over 50 though and there was always speculation on whether or not he would remarry. Turns out that Bishop Price was also a military veteran and had spent some time in Kuwait during the Gulf War. I began putting the puzzle pieces together on why my dad and this man were getting along so well. I guess with so much in common in terms of upbringing and military experience they were destined to cross paths at some point. Because we were waiting outside the door to the day care, we heard the door open and my mother finally squeeze through the door. She was dressed in a smart gray knee length skirt and white blouse. Her black heels and hose completed the outfit. It seemed to me more of an executive outfit than something you would wear to church, but she was in charge of the day care and she took her job seriously. "Bye, Carla," she said as she exited the door. "Don't let him walk all over you like that." Carla waved from the room as she finished up. My mother had a way of empowering her co-workers and developed a love hate relationship with the church's men and women. The men feared her, and the women loved her. She was very assertive and gave really good advice on how to keep your marriage strong without letting your husband rule the house. Rocking the boat would be another name for it in Mormonville. It was like having two parents that wore the pants in the relationship. My dad and my mother compromised for the sake of their marriage but I could tell they both wanted to take the lead role in family. "Are you boys ready to find the nearest pizza place and pig out?" my mother asked as she breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed and she turned toward us. "Bishop Price! How are you doing? I didn't know you were hanging out with my boys," she said blushingly. "The boys didn't mention pizza!" he said as the dumbfounded look and hands in the air signaled his surprise. "I was just talking to your son here and about my intense desire to fry the nearest cow and eat it, but pizza might just do the trick!" My Mother and Dad shared a knowing nod and began to shuffle towards the parking lot. I began to wonder how much planning went into this meeting with Bishop Price. My mother and father seemed to have this day picked out because it seemed a little fast to be doing lunch dates with the Bishop. The way it all just kind of happened screamed that there was a bit of planning involved. As we passed the entrance doors and out to the courtyard Bishop Price suggested that we all climb into his SUV to save gas. "This is my treat guys. No one left for me to spoil around here!" We worked our way to his Escalade and filed in. I didn't mind sitting in back with my mother as we drove to the local Pizza Pie Express. The conversation seemed to center on me and how I was doing in school and my future plans. My parents chiming in if I tried to stretch the truth too far. "I just want to happen upon my life's calling. I see too many people settling early for careers they only do to please others or they live with for the money." I said as we neared the restaurant. "I feel like I'll know it when I see it, ya know?" "I must say, you seem to be very down to earth, Jayce. But I've always thought that a little planning once in a while wouldn't hurt anyone." Bishop Price responded with an experienced tone and a smirk on his face. We ended up parking near the front entrance of the pizza place and I could see my mother's eyes light up as we stopped. Most women lit up like this for diamonds. My mother would have accepted a large double pepperoni with extra cheese as a wedding offer. She didn't look it though. She definitely took care of herself in her spare time. Her motto was: "If you like to eat the good stuff, you have to put in the work to burn it off." She spent an hour a day on our home equipment. My family spent some good money on an elliptical machine and a treadmill. She liked to keep her weight around 130. Which seemed to be a good weight for her at 5'9'' tall. I likely took more of her genes because I was only slightly taller than her and a good few inches shorter than my Dad. I figured I had maybe a couple more years of growth in me, but I likely wasn't going to grow much taller, especially with my terrible diet and lack of exercise. My thoughts of my lack of healthy decisions dissolved though as the promise of another mouth orgasm was imminent. I wish this lunch had the usual circumstances though. I lost a little excitement as I remembered I was here with the Bishop of our Ward. A cute hostess greeted us at the door and led us to a corner booth where we all slid in. My dad sitting across from me as we were on the ends with my mother and Bishop Price between us. After taking our drink order she scurried off toward the kitchen and left us alone. A mini conversation between my Dad and Bishop Price started as I asked my mother how the Children of the Corn fared today. She gave me that look of mild amusement and began her story of the mornings events with the spoiled children of our wealthy suburb. "Carla getting hit in the face with Jello was likely the highlight of my morning so far. I mean other than the copious amount of calories I'm about to consume." As she smiled. She continued her rant of the other glorious things the children did, but she started looking confused. Even took a couple of awkward glances toward Bishop Price, only to continue where she left off after brief pauses. When she was finally finished updating me on the days worthy information it looked like she crossed her legs under the table and scooted a couple inches toward Dad. Maybe she wasn't getting enough room. Bishop Price seemed to be deep in a golf story with my Dad and I had a feeling the story must have been invigorating for him as he was very animated. My mother gave me the look we shared when topic was outside our interest scale. Mentioning the word golf around us was a good way to instantly lose our attention span. She mouthed the words, "Kill me now." and immediately after gave another quick and nervous glance toward Bishop Price. Him acknowledging this time said he was sorry to my Mother. He must be getting too in to his story. I figured he probably bumped legs with her under the table. The story eventually wound down with my Dad and the Bishop sharing a good hearty laugh; something about a caddy and a nine iron. The Bishop with much social finesse turned the topic to my sports interests and if I was going to try anything new for my senior year which started after the summer break in 6 months. I told him I didn't think I was built for football and if I did try a sport it would be something like swimming or soccer. He then asked me if I had any interest in becoming more involved in the church. At about this time our waitress returned with our usual two jumbo pizzas so the question hung for a minute as the table was arranged to fit our feast. "I never really put much thought into it," I replied putting the pieces together. "I always thought we were already active, with all the activities we attend and such." He nodded with a smile and said, "I know, and this is why I thought it best to sit down with you folks and offer this in person. As you know, you're coming of age toward adulthood. I was hoping you would consider preparing for a mission trip. You understand our custom is to send our young missionaries all over the world at the age of 19. Have you ever considered this a calling?" I could sense three sets of eyes staring intently in my direction, even though mine were slightly downcast and in deep thought. Of course I put thought into it on several occasions. It was almost a right of passage for our religion. My thoughts always fell back to my doubts about my ability to give up my care free lifestyle and my general fear of such a drastic change. If I wanted to get shipped to the Philippines or Korea I would have considered the Navy or the Air Force. A brief thought about how proud that would make my dad had crossed my mind, but it seems like my Dad must have thought this was an acceptable substitute for college or the military. Otherwise this meeting likely wouldn't be occurring. "You know, Bishop Price... I have thought of this on occasion. I've been weary of this, maybe because of my lack of knowledge about how it all takes place, and where I would be going." "You're a smart kid, Jayce. This is what I'm here for." He paused and contemplated for a second. "Do you think we could sit down and maybe discuss this in your free time?" In deep thought again I contemplated the pros and cons of giving this a shot. Glancing up I could see my mother savoring every last bite of her pizza like tomorrow there would be a pizza prohibition. She winked at me while she chewed and seemed like she was enjoying my uncomfortable situation. My Dad's eyes still glued to me as if he was waiting for me to make the "right" decision. I turned to Bishop Price and let him know that we could arrange a meeting after school this week some time when my homework was complete. "What day would be best for you, Jayce? I'd like to meet you in your home if you don't mind. It would help me get to know you better in case we decide to plan a missions trip for you." He winked at me as he put emphasis on the word plan. We settled on Tuesday this week and shook hands to make it official. I began to match my mother's enthusiasm as I took my fair share of this Italian masterpiece of a pizza. I assumed I could forget for a second that the world wanted me to grow up by drowning my responsibilities in cheese. It seemed to be working as our conversations continued off the topic of my impending loss of my teenage fun years. My mother was mostly silent as the food was likely forming a pleasant nap time feeling, but she kept glancing down nervously as if she was crowded at the table. She couldn't have been two inches away from my dad and it seemed like the Bishop wasn't much further away. With the distance between him and I though, we could probably fit another person. I tried not to think too much about it as I realized I needed to use the restroom before we headed back to our car. I excused myself and made a leisurely stroll to the restroom to relieve the pressure all that soda was putting on my bladder. I probably stood there for a good 30 seconds before I washed up for the return stroll to the table. I decided to take the long way back to the table to walk by the cute hostess that took our drink order. She gave me a warm smile as I passed while doing my best James Dean walk. It probably didn't quite have the effect I was going for with my obvious church attire. Turning my head back to my table I could finally see what might be causing my mother's nervous discomfort at the table. She didn't look quite as squeezed as my initial analysis, but under the table as I approached I could see that my mother's nylon clad legs were crossed tightly with a slight lean toward my Dad, but with the wide stance that Bishop Price had adopted under the table, his legs were definitely touching hers. Her heel dangling from her toes because she couldn't fix it without uncrossing her legs and risk pushing into him. With the animated movements and wild stories he was telling, I was pretty sure she was just doing her best to avoid as much contact as possible. Before I could make it to my seat, I watched her heel fall from her foot and make a slight tap sound as it hit the floor. Almost immediately I watched Bishop Price's foot leave it's current position and pull her shoe away from where it was and toward him, as if he knew exactly what the sound was. "That's a little weird," I thought to myself as I sat down and assessed the situation. Bishop Price was talking to my Dad about the kind of capital it takes to run a ward and my Dad seemed oblivious to what was going on underneath the table. The Bishop must have had his undivided attention, or my Dad was just trying to be overly polite to our lunch guest. As I turned my attention toward my mother I could see that she had adjusted a bit and probably began searching for her heel that fell from her foot. After a good 15 seconds of continued listening to church business 101, I saw my Mom lean back and glance under the table to see why she couldn't feel the shoe where it likely fell. The look on her face the moment she realized it was behind the Bishops leg was a combination of surprise and disbelief. I leaned back slightly as not to make it obvious and checked the situation myself now that I was aware of what was going on. I could see that my mother's legs were no longer crossed as she contemplated her next move. Bishop Price continued to ramble on, but I could see that his leg was again positioned right next to my mother's, and her heel was positioned behind his leg near the seat. There wouldn't be a way for her to retrieve her heel without rubbing the Bishop's leg. I brought my eyes back up to the table and could tell that my mother was debating whether she would ask if she could retrieve the shoe she lost or just attempt to get it with as minimal contact as possible. I decided to help my mother out a little and see if getting Bishop Price to turn toward me would change his stance under the table a bit. "So you're saying you could probably use another around the church that knows the ins and outs of management?" I asked, hoping he would continue his five minute answers to yes or no questions. It seemed to work as he adjusted his angle toward me to respond. As he began his trademark arm movements and animated explanation of how hard it was to handle things alone, I could see out of the corner of my eye that my mother had leaned back slightly again and appeared to be stretching for her heel. While this was going on I watched as the Bishop's hand dropped underneath the table for a few seconds and my mother slide back to her original position in what seemed like a hurry. Her face began to glow a deep red and when the Bishop turned his attention back to my Dad to finish his answer, I glanced down to see if she was able to get the elusive heel. It had been slid closer to my mother's foot, but still remained directly beside Bishop Price. His leg triumphantly between the shoe and her foot. As she regained her composure, she moved her foot toward the heel. She slid her leg passed the Bishop's leg, to corral her shoe. This time though, there was a polite "Excuse me" from my Mother. The death glare she was giving him though was proof she was starting to get annoyed. Either the Bishop was pretending not to notice it, or he did a great job of acting like nothing had happened. My Dad seemed to miss the whole ordeal as well. I gave my mother a knowing look and asked if we were late for our nap. The other two took the hint and we all started to file out of the corner booth toward the register to pay for the meal. Bishop Price ran ahead of us and told the hostess that he wouldn't dare let us pay for such good company. His comment to the hostess about how beautiful her necklace was appeared to cause a blush reaction as she made change for his hundred dollar bill. "Who is this guy?" I thought to myself. "Is he the Bishop of our ward or Casanova reincarnate?" While I waited there contemplating this, I sized him up. He was as tall as my dad, but slightly thicker. He looked like he spent a day or two in the gym, or was blessed good genetics. He was probably a heartthrob in his college days, but definitely was aging well. He looked about 6'2'' - 200 lbs, with the salt and pepper hair going on. My dad was more on the slim side, but his no nonsense attitude added a good twenty pounds in my book. The Bishop finished putting his money away and led the way out the door to his SUV. My mother and I followed the men and climbed in the rear seats. My mother seemed to be in deep thought and kind of sat in silence most of the way to our car. Bishop Price spoke up to break the silence, "I'm really excited about our meeting in a couple of days, Jayce. I hope you consider this as a great opportunity to travel and broaden your horizons." He paused for a brief second before he addressed all of us. "Do you guys think you can have a feast prepared for me after I arrive on Tuesday? If you can't tell after my demolition of half that meat pizza, I really do love my food. I have a lot to talk about and it builds quite an appetite." "Do you think you can put something together, hon?" My Dad asked. There was a ten second gap of awkward silence before my Dad spoke again. "Honey?" "Oh... Umm. Yes. I'll make lasagna. Does that sound good?" "A woman after my own heart," Bishop Price interjected. "I love lasagna. It's one of my favorite dishes." I could see my mother visibly cringe at his reply before going back to her own thoughts. "Hows about I come by around five on Tuesday? That should give you time, Jayce, to get home and get your homework done. We can discuss whether or not a missions trip is in the cards, and then I can pull a Houdini on your mother's handiwork." A grin came across his face at the end of his sentence. "Dinner around seven maybe? That should give us time to discuss your options if you decide to give it a shot. I told him that should work fine if that worked for my parents. My Dad said that he wouldn't be home until 5:45, but we could make it work for my sake. We eventually pulled into the church driveway and parked next to our vehicle. My mother simply opened the door and got out. My Dad said that we would see him on Tuesday and to have a great rest of his day. I told Bishop Price that it was nice to meet him and got out of the SUV to climb into our car. It didn't feel like our usual ride home from Sunday lunch. Normally the conversation about what the week held was on the forefront of our minds. This usually translated into a family discussion about what we were looking forward to, and the how we could optimize our time. I could tell my Dad was playing his part and asking the usual questions, but I could tell why my mother was being quiet and it got me into think mode as well. I'm fairly certain she had the same thought in her mind. Was Bishop Price getting fresh with my Mom under the table? What made her blush so bad when she first tried to stretch for her heel? My dad interrupted our thoughts as he spoke up, "Did you hear me, Jayce?" "Uh. Oh. Sorry, Dad. I was mentally preparing myself for tomorrow's test. What did you ask?" I said, trying to be apologetic. "I was just asking if you could tidy the house and do the laundry so your mother can get the dinner ready without too much stress on Tuesday?" I cringed knowing this would cut into whatever spare time I had that night with homework already on the schedule. I grinned and said, "No problem Dad. We both know what happens when Mom tries to cook and clean at the same time." My mother turned to me in a hurry with a smile on her face and countered, "I'm not the one who left the tub running and flooded my room while microwaving a Hot Pocket!" She had me there. We shared a hearty laugh and the vibe in the car changed from that moment on to a bit of normalcy for the rest of the ride home. Once we arrived home and walked into the house it was like autopilot had taken over for us. Mother walked toward the master bedroom while I began my trek up the stairs to my room for our afternoon nap. Sunday naps are always the best. My Dad headed toward the office explaining that he needed to send a couple of work emails before he could join my Mom for their glorious nap. I stripped down to my boxers and climbed under the covers and let my mind drift to today's events. The talk had not been all that bad. I had mostly already made up my mind about how I was going to politely turn down Bishop Price on his offer to send me on a missions trip. I knew it wasn't something I would have pursued on my own. So it didn't quite match the way I wanted to live my life. I mentally blocked that portion of my day and forced my thoughts toward the blushing hostess at the pizza restaurant. I let my hands wander down the covers and began to imagine her and I frantically embraced in the back room of the restaurant in a hurry to undress each other and make love before someone walked into the storage room. As I was imagining her against the wall and my hands roaming her near naked body I could hear soft muffled moans in the air. I put it off as a vivid day dream for a moment, but I was brought back to reality as a quieted squeal entered my room. I immediately sat up and listened so I could prove to myself that I wasn't creating these sounds in my mind. A soft sigh coming from my heat register confirmed my suspicion. This wasn't the first time I'd heard my Mom and Dad having sex. Having a bedroom directly above theirs was embarrassing sometimes. I got out of bed and adjusted myself so I wasn't in pain as I walked to the vent to cover up as much of the sound as I could. I might need headphones if they were feeling especially frisky today. Gross. A knock at my bedroom door startled me and about made me fall over myself running back to my bed. My Dad sounded off from the other side of the door, "Hey, Jayce. Can you take the garbage out when you're done napping? It's starting to stink." In a state of unbelief I shouted back, "Yeah Dad. No problem." I could hear him walking away and back down the stairs. I climbed out of bed and crawled toward the vent again. The hushed moans and breathless sighs continued and began to increase in pace. I listened as close as I could and could hear her fleeting whispers. "Oh.. Yes.. Hmff.. Hurry... I'm going to cum. Fuck me. Ohh. Shit." I heard her lose her breath. It was like all sound stopped for an eternity. I seriously considered that she had known that someone was listening and stopped. A few seconds later though I could hear a rushed breath and a low lasting throaty moan that tapered off and turned into gasping. I decided that I had probably heard enough. The whole ordeal intrigued me more than anything. It made me realize that my mother and I were more like each other than I thought. The event had ignited my thoughts toward the hostess again. Transposing the noises I'd just heard to her in my mind as we tore the store room apart in our passion. A brief thought came to my mind before my climax. I wonder what my dad did to get my mother that hot and bothered. I didn't dwell long because I was gushing myself in intense satisfaction with thoughts of finishing inside that gorgeous hostess. It's a good thing I kept some spare bedding in my room and I did my own laundry. These sheets would need to be changed soon. Chapter 2. School has always been the bane of my existence. Sitting through seven periods of intense boredom about drained my will to live each day. The only saving grace during these long days was my 8th period swimming class. The girls at my school were fairly conservative in their swim attire, but even in the one piece suites they got my blood flowing. They were the reason I had to wear tight netted swim trunks. I believe the school did their part to quell the public embarrassment by keeping the pool a little under eighty degrees. It was still the best hour of the day in my opinion. I waited in line for my mid year improvement evaluation. I hoped that I would make some solid improvement from my baseline test a few months back. I also hoped that the teacher wasn't watching me scope out Patricia Allen, a gorgeous girl that actually went to my church. I figured of all the attractive young women in our large high school, she would be my best shot to befriend and maybe develop something more. She was a knockout brunette standing about 5'6'' tall. She couldn't have weight over 120 pounds, and had the tiniest waist. This gave her the shape of a woman. Her yellow and white floral one piece swimsuit caught my eye like nothing else. "Jayce!" our swim coach shouted from the other side of the pool. "You're up next. Get warmed up." I returned to reality and psyched myself up for the 800 meter individual medley. The coach preferred to make us do this one at a time to increase our ambition to try. I began jogging in place and stretching my arms. I focused my thoughts on impressing Patricia and improving. As I walked by her I caught a glance at her smiling face. She gave me a halfhearted wave because her arms were crossed and continued talking to her friend, Stacy. Those green eyes could melt my soul. "Ready to go, Coach," I replied as I took my mark. "Okay, Jayce. Get Ready... Get Set." A very long pause later he continued. "One for the money. Two for the show." "Coach!" I yelled, hearing some giggles behind me as they found humor in my coaches teasing. "Go go go!" the coach screamed as I dove in and started swimming with all I had. I dove in with vigor and began the first leg of the test, remembering to pace myself or I would be needing life floaty. The Coach thought he was hilarious and decorated the life buoy with signatures of the people it's saved through the years. I thought back to the kid last year that spent all of his energy in the first half of his test and started to drown when his body began to cramp. That's the kind of stuff that sticks with you. He's going to come to our 10 year reunion and be remembered as the guy in the class that almost drown. I wasn't going to be that guy. I pushed myself through out the rest of the race. I actually managed a decent time and greatly improved upon my previous time. The only person to achieve a quicker time was a dude from the swim team, and only a couple of girls were left to take the test after me. I climbed out of the pool close to where I started and made my way passed the girls again to get one last look at Patricia before I made my way to the back of the line. "Nice run, Jayce," Patricia said as I approached. "Thanks, Patricia. Good luck on yours," I said with a devious smile. I'm so suave. The rest of my swim period was spent resting against the wall until the others on today's list were able to finish. Patricia was able to rake in an impressive time amongst the girls. This would be a good conversation piece the next time I ran into her. We filed into the locker rooms and I got dressed after a quick shower for my walk home. While I was on my way out of the locker room I was reminded that today was the day that I met with Bishop Price about a possible missions trip. This revelation also reminded me that I had to hurry home and tidy up the house. Laundry wouldn't be that bad, but there was a lot of dusting and vacuuming to do before the Bishop arrived. Mom probably spent most of the day shopping for supplies and putting the meal together. During my walk home I pondered how I would let Bishop Price know that a missions trip just wasn't for me. The major issue was that I couldn't think of any good reason why I couldn't. I wasn't really considering any colleges. I definitely wasn't joining any branch of the armed forces. There was no obligations like a job or a project that I was working on. It all hinged on whether or not my Dad would accept that I just didn't want to do it. As I was nearing my house I had devised a response to the Bishop and my Dad if they sought a detailed answer as to why I would reject this "great" opportunity. To summarize, it's just a long and drawn out "this is my life and I want to pick my own path" type answer. I walked into my house about twenty minutes after three. "Mom I'm home!" I could hear her respond from the kitchen. "Jayce, I'm glad you're here. Can you come and cut these vegetables and get them steaming before you start on the laundry? I'm a little behind on this Lasagna recipe." "Sure mom," I said as I dropped by backpack at the door and made my way toward the kitchen. "Is this a new recipe?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen to see her applying the pasta portion of the dish. "I figured I'd try something new since we're having company tonight. The reviews online said it's terrible," she said winking at me. "Why are you making terrible Lasagna?" I asked stunned. "Bishop Price will lose a reason to come back if he hates the cooking." I gave my Mom a wicked smile and hugged her. "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite parent. Do I make it that obvious that I don't care much for this mission thing?" "I think I know you well enough by now to know this isn't something you would be interested in," she said as I began slicing the broccoli and tomatoes. "Besides, ever since Sunday I don't think I want him around our family." This seemed like the perfect invitation to talk to her about what exactly happened during our lunch on Sunday. I could tell that she wanted to talk to someone about it but felt awkward talking to Dad about it. "So what happened at lunch on Sunday?" I said giving her a suspicious gaze. "You know... I'm not exactly sure," she said looking to the left as if she was recalling the ordeal. "All I know is that no matter how close I moved to your father, the Bishop's legs always seemed to be ramming into mine. About the time he was rambling about needing to be paid extra for his book keeping, my shoe fell of and I swear he must have moved it somehow. There's no way it rolled two feet behind his legs!" I nodded and let her continue. I wanted to tell her that I watched him do exactly that, but it looked like she wanted to finish before I interjected. "What really has been confusing me is what happened next," Blushing again she continued. ''When you asked him about needing help around the church I leaned back and reached my foot out for my shoe. As I was dragging it back to me, his hand went under the table and ran up my leg from my calf to my thigh. I'm not sure if he was getting fresh or if he just wanted to guide me back to my side, as if it was me that was invading his space!" "I had a feeling something was going on," I said agreeing with her story. "You didn't seem like yourself at the table. I saw you glancing his direction every now and then." "Either way," she began with her mind made up. "I'd like this to be a one time thing. I want to handle this without getting your father involved. He seems to like the Bishop for some reason." I finished cutting the vegetables and placed them into the steamer. Before I walked out of the kitchen to start the laundry I reflected on how close my mother and I really were. It felt good that my mother could talk to me about these things. As I was making my way toward the laundry area I shouted through the house. "Put extra garlic in that Lasagna. I heard he's got a mild allergy." "Way ahead of you young padawan," she yelled. The laundry didn't seem to take that long to sort and put in the wash. Once I got the washer going I began vacuuming the living area. House work wasn't so bad. I always felt accomplished when the work I did made the house look noticeably cleaner. I contrived that I should probably get started on my homework while the wash was going so I didn't have to finish anything after dinner. I take my game time where I can get it. I opened my bag that was lying next to the door and grabbed my biology and math books. I chuckled that high school backpacks might actually be the reason for the rising cases of back pain in adults. I glanced at the clock and I had about forty-five minutes left before the Bishop was expected to arrive. I made my way up the stairs and to my room. Before I could get too far into my studies I got a text from my Dad. "Leaving soon, there's an accident on the freeway so I'll be a little later than usual. Can you maybe dress up a bit?" I replied with my trademark "K" and ran to the stairs to warn my Mom. "Oh Mother..." I yelled from the top of the stairs. "Did your father tell you to dress up too?" she yelled back. "I mean we definitely don't want the Bishop to see how we actually live, right?" "How do you always know what I'm going to say?" I walked back to my room and began to change into my church attire. It was about the only thing I had that was considered dressy. I tucked my shirt in and did a double take in the mirror to make sure I was good to go. I went down stairs to put the wash into the dryer. I passed my Mom on my way to the laundry area. She had changed into a casual burgundy lace dress and was on her way to do the door to grab her favorite black 4'' pumps. I was putting the clothes from the washer into the dryer when the door bell startled me. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was fifteen minutes to five. "He would show up early." I thought to myself as I threw the remaining cloths in to be dried. I could hear my mother in the living area greeting Bishop Price. "It's great to see you too, Kristina. Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that dress." I walked out to see my mother blushing slightly and the Bishop handing her a wine bottle and some daisies. I was a bit taken back by the flowers because I knew that daisies were my mother's favorite. "Thank you, Bishop Price. I'll bring these into the kitchen and put them in a vase. Have a seat here in the living area and I'll be right back. Would you like to save the wine for dinner?" I can grab you a drink from our fridge if you'd like?" she asked as she minced toward the kitchen. "Please! I could really use something to wind me down after this stressful day." He acknowledged as he made his way to the sofa. "I hope you don't mind that I'm a little early," he again shouted again as he sat down. I noticed then that he had brought a large brief case with him. "He must have brought some torture material with him," I mused as I made my way to greet him. "Jayce my boy!" he said as he stood again. "Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home," he said as he shook my hand and then sat down again. As I began to take my seat on the other end of the sofa I realized that it was probably a good thing my Dad had reminded us to dress up. The Bishop was wearing dark gray suite with a red tie. Similar to something you'd see the President wear during a big speech. "It was no trouble Bishop Price," I said as I got comfortable. Thinking back to what I'd rehearsed if the questions started flying. Before the conversation got going, my mother appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks. She was always so polite when we had guests. Even if she didn't particularly like them! We watched as she sat the tray down on the table between us and handed us our drinks. I was blessed with a can of "Green Gold" as I called it. She handed a bottle of Bud Light to Bishop Price while she settled on a simple glass of water. She then settled down across from us and gingerly crossed her legs. True to his persona, Bishop Price began the conversation. We ended up talking on a variety of subjects that stemmed from his struggles growing up in such a tough home and how good kids these days have it. My mother interrupted politely in the middle of the up hill both ways story. "Would you boys like another drink?" she asked as she uncrossed her legs in preparation to stand up. Her dress riding up slightly. Her legs were blocking my view, but with the angle and higher stature the Bishop had, he must have been able to see her panties. I deduced this from the way his eyes seemed to widen a bit and how they were pointed at her legs instead of her eyes. "Bishop Price?" she said breaking his concentration. "Oh Yes! I'd love another drink, but I simply can't allow you carry that heavy tray every time we need a refill. Let us come help you," he said trying to take attention away from his obvious eye wandering. My mother stood up and we followed her into the kitchen. The Bishop followed behind me and I had a feeling his eyes were glued to my mother's derriere as she swayed into the kitchen. "The food smells delicious," he chimed in as we filed toward the refrigerator. "Do you have Vodka and lime by chance?" He asked in an adventurous tone. "I don't think my husband would allow this house to be void of such things," my mother responded as she opened the fridge and began to gather the lime. "The Vodka is in the top left cupboard." Bishop Price went and grabbed the bottle as directed from my mother. "I'd like you both to try a drink that I find very refreshing on long days like these." I half tilted my head and raised my eyebrow at my mother before she spake. "Both of us?" "Our little secret," the Bishop said locking eyes with me with both brows high on his face. I turned toward my mom who seemed shrug a bit and smile at me. "I saw the other ingredients I need while you were gathering the lime. This is a super secret (will have to kill you if you see me make it) drink," the Bishop joked. He did the circle motion with his hands with a serious eyes and a sense urgency. We took this as our queue to turn around. We both kind of made eye contact while the Bishop moved around behind us pouring and mixing. I mouthed a, "Thank you," to my mother. This generated a serious, "Don't tell your dad," from my mother. We just sat there in awkward silence until the Bishop said in his best French accent, "Bon Appetite." We both turned to see the Bishop holding each drink in our direction. We were both thrown off by the variation in color the two drinks had. The drink he held out to my mother had a light green tint to it while mine was a simple shade of pink. "Are these the same drink?" my mother asked in a confused tone. I took my drink and held it up to the light to investigate the first alcoholic beverage I would drink in front of my mother. While handing the other glass to my mother he responded. "Jayce's glass has a little less of the good stuff." He smiled and winked at me. "Aaaand this effects the color how?" I quizzed him. "Stay in school," he responded simply. My mother and I shared a confused glance and both took a sip from our drinks. My mother got a surprised look on her face and boasted. "Wow. This is seriously good. You have to tell me how you made this." I had a similar experience as the full flavor of the drink hit my taste buds. "How in the world did you get a pink drink to taste exactly like Mountain Dew?" I asked dumbfounded. "Trade secrets," he said with snobbish look on his face. "Let's bring this back to the living room and I'll tell you about my college bar- tending days. We made our way back to the couch where we took our seats and began listening to the Bishop tell us where he learned to make such a flavorful cocktail. It didn't take my mother and I long to finish our drinks. I could tell we both would have asked for another if my Dad wasn't due home soon by the way we kept looking at our empty glasses. About the time I finished that thought I could hear the garage door opening. "Dad's home," I said as my eyes eyed the glass in front of me. "You two run on up stairs and get this mission thing figured out," my mother said feeling a little rushed. "I'll get this mess cleaned up." I lead the Bishop toward the stairs while he followed. He acted sly and covered his lips with his index finger while he tip toed behind me. I couldn't help by laugh as he followed me up the stairs toward my room. His face suddenly changed serious as he bolted back down the stairs and toward the brief case he left by the couch. Retrieving it he was able to make it all the way up the stairs before I could hear the door open and my Dad enter the house. We walked into my room and gave the Bishop the token tour. I showed him my collection of cards and game memorabilia. He acted impressed and set his brief case on my homework desk before he sat down and said. "Let's get down to business then, shall we?" I nodded and listened to what he had to say about missions trips. He told me all about seeing the world and taking risks. He focused mainly on how much these trips have helped people around the world. I tried to listen but I realized that I wasn't feeling good at all. Something hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like I was going to explode both directions. I was trying to be polite and wait for a stopping point, but I knew I didn't have much time left. I stopped him short and said, "I'm sorry Bishop... I must have ate something bad at school today." I rushed into my bathroom and locked the door. I turned on my fan hoping it would drown out some of the noise. I knew I was going to embarrass myself. I dashed for my trusty "flu" bowl and sat on the toilet as fast as I could. I won't go into any greater detail about what happened in those fifteen minutes of agony and shame, but before I joined the Bishop back in my room I washed up thoroughly. I almost jumped in the shower before realizing that might alert my parents to my "incident." I joined the Bishop again in my room two shades of red darker than when I left. "So sorry, Bishop Price. I think I ate a bad burrito at school today and my swim test must have mixed it up for good measure." He was sitting on the chest at the foot of my bed playing a game on his phone. "Brick breaker gets intense sometimes." He smiled while staring intently at his phone. I went to my desk and sat down near his brief case while he finished his game. Taking a quick glance inside I could see what looked like a scale and a measuring tape. One small folder sat below them, but this brief case seemed way to big for just those things. They must have been rattling around in there when he walked. "My other brief case is full of church material," he said as if he knew what I was thinking. "Sorry about that, I just had to finish that level. It's taken me weeks!" "What's the scale and tape for?" I asked curiously. "These missions trips require a physical exam," he said raising his eyebrow. He paused for a second and began to chuckle. "I won't be giving you any sort of an exam. That's for a medical professional, but I do need to get your weight, measurements, and height though. The board likes to know these things so they don't place a 6'' tall Irish man in the Philippines. "That.. Actually... Makes a little sense," I said thinking about it for a second. "Since it's fresh on our minds. Do you mind?" he said as he approached his brief case. I stood up and moved toward the center of the room so we could get this part over with and forget about the last 30 minutes of my day. "Go ahead and take your shoes off. You can leave the rest. It doesn't need to be precise," he said while bringing the scale first. I hopped the scale and looked down. I hadn't actually weighed myself recently, so I had some interest on where I sat. "148.5," he said as he wrote the information on a clipboard that seemed to contain a lot of blanks. He sat the clipboard on my bed and then retrieved the scale. He came back with the measuring tape and started to measure different points on my body. Height, arm length, bicep thickness, chest, waist, hips, thighs. I got a little restless when he continued to measure things like the distance between my lower back and the back of my knees and my feet. "All done with measurements," he said like he had done me a favor by not taking longer. "You're sitting around 5'10'' tall. Not bad. I could see there were still a few blanks missing on his clipboard, but he placed it back in his brief case before I could see what they were for. "I feel like I may have jumped the gun a little," he said turning to me with an apologetic look on his face. "I really don't have much else to explain to you about the missions trip. If it is something you are interested in, you can come to me any time and we'll work on getting you prepared. I was about to speak when he held out his hand to stop me. "Don't decide now. Let me know in the next couple of weeks. Your decision won't affect my love for you guys in any way," he said with a serious look on his face. I glanced at the clock and realized it was almost seven. Bishop Price caught my thought and walked back to shut and grab his brief case. "I'll be down in a minute," I said walking back toward my bathroom. "I feel like I need to brush my teeth before I meet everyone for dinner." The Bishop made his way back down the stairs. I could hear the over the top greeting he was giving to my dad when I spotted something outside my bathroom door. It appeared to be a large pill of some kind. It seemed to be engraved with "3 in 1." I wasn't exactly sure how it got there, but I left it by my keyboard to check it out later. I hurried and brushed my teeth to clean out anything that was left over from my earlier episode. As I was rinsing with some clean mouth wash I heard my Dad from below. "Jayce! Come on down, please. Dinner is ready." "I'll be right down, Dad," I yelled turning toward the mirror again. I couldn't eat right after rinsing with mouthwash, even if the food was designed to be terrible. I proceeded to continue rinsing my mouth out with water to get rid of the intense mint burn that was left. When I felt like I could probably stomach something without gagging I made my way to the stairs and down them slowly. I could see them through the doorway to the dining area sitting at our four top conversing. It looked like they were all drinking the wine that Bishop Price brought. I slowed down so I could listen to what they were saying while staying out of view behind the banister wall in case they were talking about me. "Please don't be mad at Jayce, Mike. It seems like he might have gotten food poisoning at school today. We really only got thirty minutes or so of talking in before he rushed to his bathroom." The Bishop said sounding like he was sorry for me. I could see my mother to his left at the table look visibly troubled. "Is he okay?" My mother asked with a very concerned tone. "I think he's going to make it," the Bishop replied doing his best doctor impression. "He said he had to clean up before coming down." It looked as though they already had their food sitting at the table. My dad was much like a mindless brute when he was hungry. He reminded me of those angry people in the Snickers commercials before they took a bite when he was hungry. He was going to town. They seemed pretty occupied in conversation so I kind of just sat there listening for anything I wasn't supposed to know. Gossip was currency around these parts. The Bishop got on with a story about how he got the position at our church in the first place. This is when I watched him pull his right arm from his leg and move it toward my mother's knee. His attention was focused on her as he was telling his story. His hand glanced the outside of her knee for a split second which made her flinch a bit and turn her legs again toward my Dad who seemed engrossed in the Bishop's story. My mother's cheeks were red, but I don't think it was all from the slight contact. It looked like she might be buzzing on the drinks she'd had. She faked a smile as the Bishop turned his attention back to my father to ask him a few questions about his success on the job. His hand again left his leg and boldly ran from the top of her knee to the hem of her dress. My mother jerked and pushed his hand away trying to hide her annoyed look and glancing at my Dad to see if he noticed. He looked to be more interested in the lasagna and chit chat. I began to wonder how my dad hadn't been hit by a bus yet. And the fact that the Bishop was feeling up my mom made me lose whatever respect I thought I had for him. The day at the restaurant could be played off as accidental; maybe even playful fun, but this was intentional no doubt. He got on one of his long tirades again about being assertive and taking what you want when he again moved his hand to her thigh and began inching closer to the hem of her dress. She kept her cool this time but instantly moved her hand to push him a way. He wasn't letting go this time. I could see her struggling to push his hand away. Each time she would succeed in pushing him back he would dodge around her hand and put it back on her leg. "If you know what you want. Sometimes you have to grab it and take it," the Bishop said smirking at my dad and then turning his evil grin to my mother. "I think in some situations..." my mother said as she continued to bat his hand away under the table. "That people should recognize when something isn't right for them, and be content," she almost spat at him. The Bishop countered her again while he his hand now pried between her legs and inched down her thighs. "I think in some situations I would agree with you," he continued as he pawed under the hem of her dress. "But there are also times when the powers that be don't really have much of a choice. A highly motivated man is going to get what he wants eventually," he said glancing between my dad and my mother. My dad began to agree with the Bishop and share a story about a missed promotion at work. If he only knew what he was actually agreeing with. My mother's cheeks were bright red now and the Bishop had not relented in pushing passed her defenses. He must have reached his goal because I could hear my mother audibly inhale and raise her right knee slightly. Her defense was becoming sluggish and her hand had moved to his wrist instead as a last stitch effort for leverage to fend off his invading arm. Her free hand on the table began to reach for her napkin as she wiped her face while glaring at Bishop Price. She never let go of the napkin when she sat her hand down though. I could see half of his forearm between her thighs as it moved in an up and down motion. He had an evil grin on his face while he listened to my dad tell him how he'd got turned down for not being noticed by the higher ups enough. Bishop Price began explaining how he might change things moving forward. My mother's breathing had increased and there was a labored look to her face as she pretended to listen along. I had a feeling she was no longer pushing his arm away, but I could tell the grip she had on his wrist could probably cut circulation if held long enough. "I rest my case, Mike." Adding a gavel motion with his left hand. "If you go in there and take what you want, they won't be able to stop you." I watched my mother as she turned to the Bishop and air the word "asshole" to him while my father turned to look at the clock, and with a renewed sense of urgency tried to end his groping. "In fact," the Bishop added while picking up his pace under the table. "Your co-workers will probably be much more receptive and inviting of your ambitions when they see your dominant side." I heard a light sigh from my mom as she covered her mouth again with her napkin. "I think.. I just swallowed a... Whole piece of garlic," she said to explain her obvious outburst. He legs were now raised to the table and slowly coming apart while the Bishop worked her. Bishop Price paused his arm movement under the table as he looked at the clock. "I really must be going soon," he said while raising his head to ponder something. "Maybe just one more story about completing a mission and how it changes those who are privileged enough to go. Pass this one along to Jayce tonight when he's feeling better." He smiled as he began his last thought. His arm movements under the table were a little different this time. He was leaning that elbow on his leg while pretending to make important points with his left arm. The hand that was working my mother looked to be in a hand shake motion and seemed deeper than before he paused. My mother's lips were pursed now as she turned her body slightly to feign interest in his stories. As her legs widened slightly I could see her black panties slid to the side while the Bishop alternated between rubbing the top of her mound and inserting his large fingers into her slit. As if sensing her building passion he began concluding his story with a joke about the difference between a cow and a bull. He paused and eyed both of them with a serious look on his face. "The bull smiles when you milk it," he said grinning. My mom and dad busted out laughing but my mother's laugh turned to more of a moan before she was able to silence herself. Her eyes shut and I could see her thighs clamp onto the Bishop's arm. Her right leg bumped the top of the table and her shoe fell off. As my dad came down from his laughter he said. "You're welcome over for dinner more often if you keep telling jokes like that." Still completely unaware of what had just occurred right in front of him. My mother's eyes gradually fluttered open and her breathing began to slow. She shot a worried look toward my dad before realizing that he had misread her reaction. I saw the Bishop latch on to my mother's panties and begin to pull on them. Simultaneously he questioned my Dad. "I'd like to take this as a souvenir if you don't mind? My dad gave him a quizzical look for a second before the Bishop pointed at wallet size photo of our family that stuck out from our salt and pepper wheel. "Ohhhh. Sure, Bishop Price. Go right ahead. We have a few more we can replace it with," my dad rationalized. As he grabbed the photo with his left hand he also began tugging harder with his right. My mother again started fighting his hands, but this time the Bishop wasn't in the mood for a fight. He pinched her inner thigh which made her jump just enough to free her weight from the lacy garment allowing it to be pulled down her legs. He pretended to drop the photo to the ground so he could slide them all the way down to her feet. "Oh.. Clumsy me," he said as he took the panties from her feet and place them in his coat pocket with our family photo. His hand running up the outside of her leg as he stood finally. I could see my mother just sitting there dumbfounded. Maybe she was as bewildered as I was. The whole thing just seemed so surreal. I was filled with mixed emotions as I sat there in a daze. Anger, arousal, confusion, sadness, and shame. I wasn't sure what to do. I must have just sat there thinking about how corrupt the Bishop really was. "Thank you for your hospitality," he said turning toward the stairs. "Let me go say goodbye to Jayce before I'm on my way." I broke from my daze and turned toward my room as fast as I could, running into the hall table on the way there. I had to stop for a second and steady the vase that sat there, but then ran back into my room and into the safety of my bathroom. I locked the door and slid down it feeling relieved that I didn't have to face him right now. "Hey, Jayce. I'm so sorry you aren't feeling well tonight. Thank you so much for sitting with me this evening. I left my phone number on your desk. Let me know what you decide. " Feigning a bit of discomfort in my voice I responded softly, "Thanks, Bishop Price. I'll let you know." I could hear as he started walking toward the door. I thought I could hear his steps pause for a second, almost like he was going to say something else, but they eventually continued forward to the stairs without another word. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat there again with my thoughts. The Bishop of my church ward just fingered my mom underneath our kitchen table. More astonishingly, he'd done it while talking to my Dad. The emotions came rushing back and questions bombarded me. Should I tell my dad? Will my mother talk to me about this? Isn't Bishop price supposed to be a good man? "Jayce, are you alright in there?" I could hear my mom as she interrupted my riddled mind. "Oh, Mom. Yeah. I'm alright. Just feeling ill that's all." I stood up and opened my door to meet her. I could tell when I opened my door that she too had a look of trouble on her face. I began out of the bathroom towards my bed when something startled me. I looked at the trunk at the foot of my bed and I could see something dark and lacy clamped between where the lid met the storage part of it. "Uhhh. Okay...." I said as I walked toward the chest to remove what I knew it was going to be. My mother turned and looked down as I bent down to release the fabric. "Jayce!" my mother squealed in embarrassment as she ran to grab them before I could. "Are these my..." she said before looking up startled. My dad had walked into the room to check up on me. "Are those your what?" my dad asked spotting the black lace garment in her hand as he approached her. Chapter 3. My mother stood looking at my dad with the deer in the headlights look. She didn't immediately speak as if she was trying to come up with something or a reason her panties could have ended up in my room that was reasonable. My dad simply walked a little closer to see what was in her hand and repeated his question with a concerned look on his face. "Are they your what, Kristina?" "My... my panties," she blur