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Moonlight Will Prevail Part Five

Jason Rimbaud


Moonlight Will Prevail

Part Five

By: Jason R.

I had heard the word ?fuck? before at school, but had never heard that word uttered in my house much less inside the sanctity of my room. I was shocked at his blatant rebellion for everything ?our? religion stood for. And yet, at the same time, I was intrigued by his knowledge of all things carnal. Maybe this was my savior. Maybe he could show me all the things I wanted to know.

Though I thought these things in my mind, I still looked around the room nervously, making sure no one had heard him swear. I was extremely scared that if my father had heard him utter that word, I would lose my new friend, my maybe savior, forever. When he saw me looking around the room, he began to laugh.

I can remember that laugh so vividly. It was a laugh full of mischief, and very infectious. Not like the whole body laugh where the body shakes uncontrollably and it wasn?t a quiet laugh either. More like a laugh from the depths of the soul. Like he had found some kind of inner happiness and nothing could ever take it away.

So I was nervous when he stopped laughing and asked me in a serious tone. Have you ever said that before?

I replied, ?I could never say that word, I don?t want to make god mad at me.? (yes, I really was that innocent once upon a time) Do you know what he did, he laughed at me again, that bastard.

I was more than a bit hurt by his laughter, and yet on the other hand, I wished I could be so reckless with my mortal soul. He teased me for awhile, calling me chicken. (one thing about me, and to this very day, I don?t like being called chicken) I told him I wasn?t scared but I wouldn?t say a word I didn?t know the meaning of.

I had this smug look on my face, since I knew there was no way in the world this kid could know the definition to such an ?evil? word. I was sure he was only saying it because he knew it was a word kid?s shouldn?t say. Damn, was I wrong about that.

I know my face turned every shade of red when he began describing in great detail, just what that word meant. I know I was squirming in my shoes, and that my soul was forever tainted at what I learned that day. But when he began to show me what it meant by using my bed as a prop, I lost it completely.

I started yelling for him to stop desecrating my bed, and that he was the devil's child and that I never wanted to see him again. Do you know what he did as I was yelling at him, he laughed all the harder. I put my hands on my hips and demanded to know the reason he was laughing at me.

Because you?re stupid and it feels good to laugh at you.

He kept saying that word over and over again, FUCK. I put my hands over my ears to block out the sound of that dirty word. Now remember, I was still feeling guilty about my own brush with sin a few days earlier. And it?s easier to forget my mistakes if I can condemn him for his. I find this is a typical reaction of the religious zealots that populate our society.

Then he asked me the one question that shut me up and caused my soul to freeze. Have you ever even jacked off?

The look of confusion on my face must have been hilarious because it sent him into fits of laughter. And when he realized I had no idea what ?jacking off? was, caused him to laugh even harder if that was possible.

After he regained control of himself, he began to describe what ?jacking off? meant, going as far as mimicking the motions right in front of me. I guess he could tell by the embarrassed look in my eyes that I knew exactly what he was talking about. You?ve done it. He accused, taunting me as he bounced up and down on my small bed. Then he looked at me, his eyes sparkling, and dropped the second bombshell on my life. Did you enjoy it?

I think the hardest thing I ever did in my twenty-two years of living was to answer that question. My mind was telling me to deny it, but my recently awakened libido was screaming for me to admit that not only have I done it but had thought about nothing else since. Like a huge match of tug-o-war, my religious side was warring with my carnal side. Needless to say, my carnal side kicked the shit out of my religious side.

I think in that one moment, with that one question, all hopes of me following in my father?s footsteps went out the proverbial window. That question started an adventure I?m still on to this day.

Some would say I?m trying to justify my lust with logic. Others would say I?m blaming my promiscuity on a sense of adventure, and the admittance to a fourteen-year-old boy I enjoyed jacking off. Hell, both might be true. I do have an appetite for sex, and the pleasure of new experiences. Which is why I have tried sex with both males and females. Call it what you will, but I have to blame it on something, right?

I remember hanging my head down in shame as the words came out of my mouth. ?Yes, I did it, and it was like nothing I ever felt before.?

My head shot up as he said, You know it?s normal for teenagers to do it. My teacher said there?s nothing wrong by doing it. It?s actually healthy for boys to do it.

He further admitted that he had been doing it at least twice a day for a few years now. I asked, ?Did it always feel the same way each time you do it?? How was I to know, it could have been a one-time thing?

That night I learned about fantasies. I learned you could think about other people touching you while you pleasure yourself. I?ve always had an active imagination. So what if I put it to good use that night after Greg?s family left.

This is the tricky part, up to then and for some time to come, I knew nothing about girls. So my fantasy that night used the only template I had at my disposal. That night I masturbated thinking about Greg.

I?ve had lots of arguments with other gays about whether it?s a choice or if you?re born a certain way. Honestly, I don?t know the answer to that question. My thoughts marry the two ideas together. Some are just born that way while others have it thrust upon them by society. I don?t want to argue or start a discussion with anyone. Can?t we all just get along? See another choice.

Up until that night, I was a complete sexual non-entity. I was attracted to neither sex, hence, I made a choice of what I was attracted too. And when I have felt that same attraction to a particular girl, I?ve had sex with her. I?m not bi-sexual, and I?m not heterosexual, nor would I call myself homosexual. I look at myself as a sexual being who enjoys the act of consenting sex between adults. Most of the time I?ve chosen males, kind of a remembrance of my first love so to speak.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I started discovering my inner pleasures that night thinking about my new friend, Greg. As the weeks and months went by, Greg and I became close friends. Both of our families like the idea of us hanging out together. Because at that time, we both acted like good little Christian boys in public. But behind closed doors, that was another matter all together.

Greg was my first in so many different ways. Not only my first sexual encounter but also my first time skinny-dipping. I remember choking my lungs out the first time we tried smoking a cigarette out behind the fence of my backyard. I was petrified my father would smell the smoke all the way inside the house or hear us coughing and come outside and catch us. I can still taste the puke I threw up the first time we got drunk on a bottle of Jack Daniels Greg stole from the local convenient store. It was horrible, and I vowed to never drink again. Though I broke the promise the very next weekend on a church camp out. This time it was a bottle of vodka, and I thought it might not make me sick like Jack Daniels. Again, I was wrong.

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Jason, could you tell me why you posted a segment of your short story as a blog entry? When I started to read it, I said to myself, "I know I've read something like this before." but I was done before I clued in. Are you saying that this is truly your own story, and not something you created for your readership?

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