Date: Tue, 14 Aug 2007 17:13:19 +0000
From: Steve Thomas <stevethomas535@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dilemma for Tony - Ch. 2

This is a work of pure fiction, but based on the author's feelings,
beliefs, and in some cases, experience.  Come to think of it -- it might
not be very pure either! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times
between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat.  If you
are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading this kind
if story, shame on you for reading it - - please stop here.  If not, - -
ENJOY!

 Cast of characters:

Tony diMarco -- yeah -- I am he!
(CA) Ben Hastings -- First love
(Maui) Ben Fisk -- First sex (+4 years)

From Ch. 1:

I woke up pumping myself wildly, as the alarm clock rang.  I can only
remember one thing -- that gargantuan penis that my dream had placed on
Maui-Ben.  And the alarm was like the winning bell at the finish line --
or something.  I felt like I won -- for a moment.  Then the guilt set
in.  When am I going to be able to do that without punishing myself?

Chapter 2

I prayed to be forgiven -- but my heart wasn't quite in it.  Why do I
need forgiveness for what the bishop says we all do?  I prayed for
understanding instead.  I really feel God loves me.  I don't understand
why he made me this way - or maybe it's more - - why he allowed me to be
this way.

Last night was -- weird -- like a dream.  I thought about Ben and how
nice he was last night -- as compared to that week back at scout camp.  I
suppose anyone would say that he molested me.  And I guess he did.  And I
really was afraid about telling anyone.  But now that I'm older, I'm
questioning what my reasons were for being afraid.

Ben pretty much forced himself on me.  He was shortrd than I, but built
-- well -- like a 16 year old, whereas I was so skinny that if I turned
sideways, you could miss me!  So I WAS afraid of him.  He came in so
boldly that first night and kicked out my other tent mate.

But did he really force himself on me?  He didn't make me shine the
flashlight on him.  But when I did it, it so mesmerized me.  And now to
say he molested me -- makes me wonder -- mostly because I -- liked it!
And I wanted more!  And -- he gave me what I wanted!  But he was 16 and I
was 12!

And obviously he knew it was wrong.  He swore us to secrecy, didn't he?

And of course -- he never contacted me again.  I wondered whether to
believe his assertion that I was his one and only -- before last night.
And really -- we didn't do anything last night.

Thank God!

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.  A big knot formed
in my stomach and a lump in my throat, as I thought of yesterday's
events.  The knot and the lump became evident when I pictured Ben and Al,
dressed in white, standing on the beach, with the Temple in the
background.  I tensed up my tummy -- to force back the tears.

Then I thought about Ben -- camping Ben -- and wondered if he would call
-- and if I should even think of going out with him.  Even in group
meetings -- I never told about that week with him at scout camp.  I never
told anyone except my Ben -- well, now -- Al's Ben -- This thought came
out of the blue and I didn't have time to tense up and -- tears came
down.  I lay back down and just let it happen.  I learned some time ago
that it just makes me feel worse to hold it in.

I finally dragged myself out of bed and went to work.  I don't get paid
too much as a bike guide down Haleakala, but it is really a pretty cool
job.  I went back to bed when I got home.  I was too exhausted to wank
myself to sleep.

Again -- especially with the late morning light against my sleeping eyes
-- I had vivid dreams, waking up with my wet sticky boner in my hand.
Again, I remembered who it was that caused the dream and let my emotions
overflow.

Mom opened my door.  She saw me and said, "Oh honey, I'm sorry!  I
guess you aren't quite as over him as you thought."

All I could think of was that if she came in five minutes ago, she would
have caught me wildly flogging myself.  "MOM!"  I cried!  "Can't you
ever knock?!!"

"Oh -- I'm sorry sweetheart.  I should have."  And she closed the
door.  She was so sweet that now I felt guilty for yelling at her.  Note
to self: lock my door every night!

I used to think that at 21 I'd be a man.  So why do I still feel like a
little boy at 22?  Last fall, I thought I was ready to move to California
and live with Ben.  Now I want to crawl back into my crib and suck my
thumb.  Why not?  I seem to be crying like a baby all the time!

Well, now that Ben is married, I suppose I should move on.

One of the things where I don't fit the mold of the typical gay from our
gay Mormons group, (oops -- we don't say "gay".  It's supposed to be
"same sex attracted") is that I am not self loathing.  And -- I don't
blame my dad.

I love myself and I believe I deserve better than what God has given me.
Hah!  Even that makes me feel guilty!

I got a call from Suzanne -- from the Young Adult Ward -- inviting me to
come to church with them tomorrow morning.  In my church, our separate
congregations are called "wards".  There is one that is organized in
most areas that is just for young adults from 18 to 30.  It's mainly to
put us in close proximity with others our age -- so we can meet another
Mormon to marry.

Don't get me wrong.  I think that's a good idea -- if you're
heterosexual.  It's best to start a marriage at least believing the same
things.  So -- Catholics are probably better off marrying Catholics,
Mormons marrying other Mormons, Jews marrying Jews -- etc.  I take that
one step further -- gays marry gays!  See, even in my misery I can joke!

Except it's not a joke!

I go to church with my family -- as I always have.  Somehow I don't
think that I'll meet another gay to marry at the Young Adult Ward!  I
told Suzanne I'd think about it. Then I turned over and closed my eyes.
Then I opened them again and got out of bed and walked to the door and ...
locked it.  I put my self back to sleep the usual way.  I don't know if
it's the sexual release or the guilt that puts me to sleep.

KNOCK KNOCK!  "Tony!  I need your help with those brakes!"  My dad
liked my help doing a brake job.  He taught me how to do brakes when I
was 14.  I moaned -- but said I'd be there in a minute.  Doing the
brakes really was one of my favorite things to do -- with my dad.

"Ben," he said, while I was compressing the caliper on the right wheel,
"your mother is worried about you.  Well, really, I am too.  I know I
had some reservations about you going to the Young Adult Ward, but maybe
you should think about it.  There are lots of girls there."

It wasn't as if he didn't know.  He had thrown me out of the house last
fall because I stayed the night with some guys.  I hadn't even done
anything.  Well, not that first night anyway.  But he assumed I had
"slept" with a guy -- or maybe he thought it was an orgy.  I dunno.
But after talking to the bishop, he changed his tune and invited me
back.  And it was like nothing had ever happened.

And now he is trying act as if nothing really DID happen.  I just gave
him "the look".

"Just do it for me -- and your mom -- okay?"  I really didn't want to
go to the Young Adult Ward, but I agreed to try it out.

"Brother diMarco!"  Said Bishop Waimeha.  Bishop Waimeha was one of
those fatherly type guys that every youth loves and wished his own dad
was like.  I didn't know him well, but he knew of my family, and he was
on the Stake High Counsel when I gave my missionary report upon returning
from my mission.

He shook my hand warmly.  "I hope you enjoy yourself here.  It looks
like you have gotten a lot of sun since returning from your mission to --
where was it?"

"Arizona Tucson Mission, Sir."

"Ah yes -- one of the many foreign missions that reside within the
boundaries of the United States."  He said, staring deeply into my
eyes.  I felt like -- for the moment -- he and I were the only ones in
the crowded chapel.

"That's for sure, Sir."  I said, feeling glad to be in his presence.

"Well, welcome!"  He said and then turned his warmth to someone else.
And it's not fake -- I know that.  He believes in what he preaches.  And
he is as genuine as they come.  It's people like him that keep me coming
to church.  Whether or not they "know about me" (and few do!) they all
love me -- and it's hard for me to turn away from that.

"Tony, Tony!"  Came a female voice at my flank.  I turned and it was
Suzanne.  She was medium height, had long brown hair, and a wide toothy
smile.  She too shook my hand.  "Thanks so much for coming!  I hope you
come to my Sunday School class.  We're in the middle of Third Nephi.
Did I tell you that I was called to be the Gospel Doctrine teacher?"
She grinned again and showed her "invisible" braced teeth.

I had planned to only attend Sacrament meeting, and go home, but now I
felt bound to support Suzanne in her class.  We go to church for 3
hours.  One hour is our religious meeting, which is probably close to
what most call a church service.  In it, we take the Sacrament (like --
the blood and body of Christ) every week.

Sunday school is usually sandwiched between Sacrament and priesthood, so
people will not skip out of Sunday school,  I know -- it's a Mormon
thing.

Anyway, I determined to skip out after Sunday School.  I sat in the back
of the class.  There was a lot of participation in the class, with mostly
return missionaries in it.  Even I put my two cents in.  After all, I was
immersed in the scriptures for two years -- after four years of early
morning seminary form 14 through 17 years old.

At the end of the class, I made a bee line for the door.  Bishop Waimea
said, "It was so nice to see you again, Brother diMarco.  I hope you
will want to come back."

"Oh -- I wasn't going anywhere, Sir."  I lied.  "I just wanted to
step outside for a moment."

So that's why I stayed for the last meeting -- priesthood.  When we got
into the opening exercises, the Bishop called on the priesthood leaders.
"President Fisk!  Any news from the Elders?"

I turned and looked at President Fisk, the Elders Quorum President.  My
eyes popped open.  He smiled and winked at me.

So -- I guess his name is Ben Fisk.  And, well - - I guess he ISN"T out!

Ben sat up front and I chose the rear of the class.  He kept making eye
contact with me, and it was making me very uncomfortable.  I was getting
angrier by the moment.  How could he flirt with me last night and -- then
on Sunday -- be the Elders Quorum president?

I was about to slip out the back door when the guy giving the lesson
called on me -- by name.  He seemed to know me, and he was obviously a
returned missionary -- but I didn't know him.

I answered his question -- to the satisfaction of the others in the room
-- and then before I knew it -- the meeting was over.

I practically ran out the back door and as I was almost to the exit door
of the chapel, "Tony!"  It was Suzanne again.  "Are you coming to
linger longer in the cultural hall?" She tilted her head and almost
sang.

"I think I'll pass this time, Suze!  I said.  "I need to get home --
got an early start tomorrow morning."

That wasn't a lie.  I walked out to my old Chevy and Ben was leaning
against it, between the cars.  It was late afternoon and my car was deep
in the shadow of a tree.  "You okay, Dude?"

"You -- you -- you -- never told me you were the Elder's president!"
I blurted out.  He looked quickly around.

"Was that important for you to know?  I try not to mix church with --
with -- my private life."  He looked around again and seeing no one, he
touched my arm.  Goose bumps covered my entire body.  "Where were you
rushing to so fast, anyway?"

I wiggled away and said, "I'm going home to get to bed.  I have another
early shift at work tomorrow."

"It's not that late, Dude.  Why not drop my house and we can talk."

"Talk?  Is that all you want?"  I said incredulously.

A car's headlights shone on us momentarily.  As soon as it was gone, Ben
moved in closer to me and lay his hand on my face -- gently.  "Is that
all YOU want, Tony?"

I didn't trust him.  What was his game?  Answering my question with a
question -- to me that's a diversionary tactic.  I don't know if I
should trust this guy.  I was about to tell him I really had to get home
when I was reminded of my dream of him last night.

"I -- er -- I can't stay long, but -- I guess we could talk."

He flashed me his award winning smile and said, "Great!  I have to at
least make an appearance at the linger-longer thing, but then you can
follow me home."

I suddenly got one of those bad feelings which all my leaders have told
me about for all my years in the church.  "Uh -- that's okay, I really
need to get home.  I didn't sleep much last night and -- I need to be
alert for our customers tomorrow.  See you another time -- uh -- Ben!"
I jumped in  my car and sped off, feeling like I'd just escaped a trap
or something.

"Tony?"  Came a beleaguered voice, in a voicemail message from a number
I didn't recognize.  "It's Ben Fisk.  Look, I'm sorry -- I mean
really, really sorry.  It just never occurred to me that -- I mean -- are
you trying to -- um -- repent -- or something?  I don't want to -- I
mean -- I really do care about my calling as Elders Quorum President.  I
wouldn't want to get in the way -- oh shit -- Oh Crap!  I mean --
Dammit, I feel so bad!

"Listen; please let me know if you want to talk.  I'll assume that if
you don't come back -- um -- to the young adult ward, it's my fault.  I
don't want that hanging over my head, but if that's what you decide,
I'll understand.  I'm so, sooooo sorry.  Well, see you later -- I mean
-- well, I hope anyway.  Bye."  I don't think he knew the voicemail
picked up his last "Shit!"  Before he hung up.

Really I have no reason to go back to that ward.  I like going to church,
but in my parents ward is good enough for me.  I pretty much threw myself
into my work, as they say, picking up extra shifts that other guys
didn't want, for the next couple weeks.  I didn't even go to my parents
ward because of working on Sundays too.

Working is a fairly safe environment -- to stay away from temptation.
Most of the people there are older or -- much younger -- or well --
girls.  And they sure don't do anything for me.  Then one day as I was
counting those who were to bike down Haleakala, and on the list was his
name: Ben Fisk.

I picked him up from his home in the company van, as we do most all of
the tourists.  It was obvious what he was doing.  When we got up to the
top of the volcano, thankfully, I was far too busy to talk privately to
anyone, getting bikes out and assuring that everyone had on the necessary
warm weather clothing to start the trek.  We go through four climate
changes on the way down.  Even the heartiest people have to wear cold
weather clothing at the top.

I explained to the people -- as I always do -- that the slowest, and most
inexperienced riders would ride to the front of the group.  We always go
single file, and I explained my hand signals, so they knew when to pull
to the edge of the road to allow cars to pass.  That put Ben completely
at the rear of the group.  And I was at the lead, so there was easily a
quarter mile between us often.  And when we stopped, I was busy taking
pictures for everyone, so we couldn't talk.

Then we ate lunch.  The crew ate separately from the paying customers, so
there wasn't much chance to talk there either.  I was getting to feel a
little guilty and -- bad -- for ignoring him.  He seemed so distraught on
the phone!   There were porta-potties set up for the people, plus a small
restroom in the actual food serving area.  I headed for the restroom.

As I was relieving ,myself, (No, perverts! I was only urinating!) the
door opened.  There is a lock, but it doesn't work.  And besides there
is a toilet and a urinal, though there is no barricade by either.  In
walked Ben.  "Hey."  I had to turn slightly to see who it was.

"Hey."  I said nonchalantly.

"Um -- you don't mind - - ?"

"Oh --  no!  It's a two hole -er!"  I mused.

He walked to the toilet and unzipped.  The way the restroom was set up,
the toilet was in full frontal view from the urinal.  So I tried not to
watch as he pulled out his tool.  I was immediately mesmerized.  If the
toilet had been partially behind me, I still couldn't miss him.  It was
all that I dreamed about -- and more!  It was impossible to ignore -- but
I tried.

"So,"  I started, forcing my eyes up to his, the long dangling snake
was still very obvious, "what prompted you to ride down Haleakala with a
group?"

He was straightforward.  "You.  I couldn't leave another message, Tony,
and I had to talk to you."

"That'll be kinda hard here at work."  I said.

"That's why I chose the sunrise ride.  We'll be finished early and
maybe you can follow me -- to McDonalds," (I was worried he would say
home) "so we can talk a little.  I really do feel bad about -- what
happened."

"I -- um -- well -- okay -- McDonalds huh?"

"Anywhere is fine.  I was gonna say my place, but thought somewhere --
else -- may be better."

"McDonalds is fine."

"Great.  We can get a cup of coffee and - "

"Coffee?"  I said incredulous.

"Oh!  Well, yeah, I like some once in awhile.  I kinda got to liking it
just after I graduated high school.  I stopped going to church for
awhile.  We don't have to have coffee if you don't want."

"Heh~!"  I chuckled, mirthlessly, "I don't think a little coffee is
gonna hurt this boy -- after some of the things I have done!"

"Oh!  Sorry!" said another guy coming in and seeing both holes were
occupied.  I was already zipped up and just standing talking trying to
avoid eye contact with "it".  The intruder was gawking at "it".

"It's okay, we were just leaving."  I said.  We washed up and walked
out.  "Okay -- McDonalds it is."  I said.  "Um -- maybe I can ride
with you.  I walked to work."

"Great!"  He said, then added, "I mean -- um -- yeah, that'd be
fine."

We didn't speak on the way to McDonalds.  Somehow, sharing a meal opens
conversation.  "So, this other Ben was your only other encounter, huh?"

"Yeah.  And I guess -- I was your only one?"

"Yeah.  Hey, how -- um -- out are you?"

"You mean the bishop hasn't said anything to you?"

"He wouldn't.  That's confidential."  Said Ben.

"Well, I don't go around flaunting it, but -- pretty much everyone
knows -- at least in my home ward.  And I think most of the people in the
Y.A. Ward (Young adult) know too.  They haven't said anything to you
either?"

"Why would they?"

"Well, you being the Elders President and all -- seems someone would
have clued you in."

"Actually no one knows I even know you.  Maybe not as many know about
you as you think.  I know these people aren't ones to gossip much."

"Well it's not as if I hide it very well -- the way I act."

"You'd probably be surprised at that too.  Straight guys in particular
have very poor gay-dar.  And girls -- well, they tend to like gay guys."

"Yes -- we have so much in common!"  I said sarcastically. "So -- what
makes you think you're gay -- if I'm the only one you've -- er -- done
anything with?"

"Oh, I know!  Don't forget, I'm 4 years older than you.  If -- I mean
-  you know -- why are you still going to church?"  He asked me.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I -- uh -- I asked you first!"  He laughed.  "Seriously, I know why I
do it, and how I justify it -- but I just have to wonder about others.

I was feeling more comfortable with him.  "I dunno.  Having been on a
mission -- I know there are a lot of people who do worse than I have done
-- and still attend church.  Well, I guess we have to allow them to
repent.  But -- you've done nothing -- except when you were a
teen-ager.  I don't understand what you even have to justify."

 He looked at me for an extended moment.  His mouth started to twitch and
he looked down.  He wiped at his eyes.  "Tony, I envy you."  He
croaked.

"Me?!"  I exclaimed.  "Why?"


"You seem to have it all together."

"I have it all together!?  That's a laugh!  What would make you say
that?"

"Oh!"  he sighed.  "I am just so tired of living like this!  I hate
living a lie!  I feel like I'm stuck!"

"How -- I mean -- you haven't - "

"I haven't had sex with anyone -- except you -- but I -- masturbate --
it seems -- constantly.  I watch porn on the internet.  I thought I was
really cool -- keeping it a secret from everyone.  Then they called me to
be Elders Quorum President.  I feel like a complete and utter
hypocrite!"

"I can see that."  I said.  "But how do you think that my situation is
any better?"

"Just the fact that -- well YOU said -- well, that you are out to at
least some of them.  They're not gonna ask you to be something -- like
Elders president -- knowing that.  I -- feel -- so -- dirty!"

"Hmm -- I see.  Um -- another thing I learned on my mission was -- I
used to go to everyone's home for dinner - all the time.  For some
reason, they didn't always clean everything up when the missionaries
came.  Ben -- all you see is -- the men in white shirts and ties on
Sunday -- and the women all dressed in their Sunday best.  And everyone
acts nice in church.

"I'm not saying they're NOT nice, Ben -- but -- they aren't maybe as
lily white as you think.  I'm also not trying to justify what you think
you're doing wrong.  I only am saying that you can't compare yourself
with anyone else.  What -- I mean -- what if I stayed with you a couple
weeks ago.  Have you thought what you may have done -- if I was willing
to do it with you?"

"Omigosh -- yes!  I wanted you so bad!  And with you -- it would have
been easy -- at least for me -- because you already know about me!"

"What did you -- think -- we'd do?"  I asked.

"I - " he looked down.  "I was hoping we could do what we did
before."

"I want to tell you something, Ben.  I have had anal sex.  And -- I want
it again -- with someone I love.  I don't want to do anything with any
guy I don't love."

"So -- you won't have sex with a guy unless you're in love with him?"

"I didn't say that.  I said, I'd have to love him, yes.  But in love?
I'm not sure what that means.  Maybe I was in love with Ben Hastings.  I
know it hurt when I broke up with him, but part of that hurt was -- the
act of hurting him.  Hurting someone you love -- is hard and painful
too!"

"My gosh!  You have had so much more experience than I have.  You know
so much more about love!  How do you know -- these things?"

"You dissed me for thinking I shouldn't have gone on a mission.  You
were right, Ben.  I learned so much on my mission.  When I left, I
thought a mission was about converting people.  It isn't"

"It isn't?"

"No!  Sometime during a guy's mission, he learns he has to stop trying
to convert them.  You can't convince anyone the Gospel is true.  Only
the spirit can do that.  What I learned was that I only had to love
them.  When I loved them, they could feel it.  You see, when you are
trying to convert them, you are saying, `I'm better than you.  Don't
you want to be better -- like me?'  But when you love them, you're
telling them you love them and you just want to share something that they
may find important in their life.  And they get it -- if you really do
love them."

"Tony -- I want to be better -- like you!"  he almost whispered.

"That's crap!  You've gotta stop comparing yourself to others.  I
decided that -- at least for now -- I want something that is not in
keeping with what most people think of as "okay" in the church.  But I
don't compare myself with anyone.  I love most people, and I live a
decent enough life.  Sure, I have guilt when I jack off -- or - "

"Which I taught you!"  He said, forlornly.

"That's stupid!"  I said.  "I already told you -- I would've figured
that one out myself!"

"But you were such a cute, innocent kid!  I - "

"STOP!"  I commanded.  "As I was saying, I still have some guilt, but
-- am I any worse than a guy that cheats his neighbor and excuses himself
because his neighbor isn't a Mormon?  Or -- any guy who cheats on his
wife?  And yet they do it and still keep wearing their lily white shirts
and black ties to church, where everyone thinks they are as lily white as
their shirts!"

"So you think there are a lot of hypocrites in the church?"

"I don't know.  No, I don't think so.  I think they are few and far
between.  And many of those people are actually probably working with
their bishops to correct their mistakes.  But I know that no one is
perfect, so everyone has something to be forgiven of before taking the
sacrament.  That's why we do it every week.   For now at least, I like
going to church, so I will keep going -- even though like many, I am not
as lily white as my shirt!"

"So -- you'll come back to the ward?" he asked.

"You mean the Young Adult Ward?"  he nodded.  "Maybe."  I said.  I
saw some stress drain out of his face immediately.  "I like most of the
people there too."

Tears came to his eyes.  "Please come back! I was devastated thinking
that I drove you away."

"It's not as if you drove me away from the church.  I was planning to
go back to my parents' ward -- where I live.  I just have had to -- or
maybe chose to -- work that last two Sundays.  But -- okay, I'll come
back to your ward -- sometimes."

"You don't know how much that means to me, Tony."

"Actually I might."  I said smirking.

"and -- Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you -- um -- think about -- seeing me?"

"I -- think I'll see you there."  I said

"I mean not at church.  I want to see you - "  He looked deep into my
eyes.

"I liked being here with you, Ben.  I like you better than I did two
weeks ago."  I didn't tell him that I'd probably dream about him
again.  "If you want to see me -- other than at church -- I'd say --
lets take it as it goes."

His big grin returned and put his hand on my arm.  "I promise you,
you'll like me better next week, Tony."

And -- I was right.  I DID dream about him -- and his!

Notes:  Is Tony flirting with disaster? Is he justified in agreeing to
see Ben some more?  I guess we won't know until we learn more about Ben
-- hopefully not the hard way.  Comments are always welcome -- to Steve
at stevethomas535@hotmail.com.  Thanks and ... love, Steve