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...so God pressed Mary's back against the moist, clay wall as He ripped at her tunic. Her voluptuous breasts heaved in the tattered fabric as she fumbled madly with His belt. God smiled savagely and Mary's breasts suddenly swelled two additional sizes and rent the tunic in half. And He saw that it was good...
I must say, now that I've browsed that site, I'm not seeing a whole lot of religious themes. At all.
It could be a bait-and-switch, sure. Or it could be an actual attempt at sex-positive Christianity; who knows. But to find out, I'd have to register, and, no.
I drove into Long Beach not knowing what to expect. I was tired, lonely, hungry, and mostly lost. The freeway looked like a dead end, but I spurted through some savage greenery and soon enough saw my hotel, right there next to the Queen Mary.
Then the car stopped. So close! The mechanic told me I'd need to check my fluid pressure before leaving Tucson, but I tossed him off with a teenager's indifference. The hotel was only a few hundred yards away. But closer was a tattoo parlor, and I could see a pay phone on the wall inside. I let out a long sigh, got out of the car, and pushed it hard against the side of the road. I called a tow truck. I cursed the Lord, and walked the rest of the way to the hotel.
There were youth scattered around the grounds and the lobby, lounging, laughing, drinking virgin cocktails and making eyes. These were the Youth Advisory Delegates to the Presbyterian Church (USA) General Assembly--a gaggle of graceless high schoolers brought here by the democratic forces of their Church, Youth Programs, Youth Groups, Young Adult Pastors and Advisors, Counselors, etc, and shunted away in our own hotel that didn't float. For the next two hundred hours we were to be dayslaves to a Church that does it decently and in order, and nightslaves to our own wild, youthful hormones.
So I found my room, met my roommate, and promptly left in search of refreshment. I was met not ten steps down the hall by two girls, a blonde and a brunette, carrying plates piled high with greasy buffet food. I smiled at them and introduced myself.
"Hi Carson" said the brunette, "my name is Emily. This is my friend Jennie. Would you like to try one of my mini chimis?"
[I leave the rest as an exercise for the reader's wrists.]
hm. I just watched the Billy Squier video posted on mefi, and now I'm hankerin' for a part two. no, I'm not drunk. it's just a lonely few hours between shifts, ok?
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Carson wadded his undies against himself and duck-walked back down the hall to his room. There was a moment of terror when he couldn't figure out how to unlock the door to his hotel room without dropping his coverage, but he eventually slid the dark brown card into the ecru slot and let himself in. He peeked around the corner into the main room to see if his roommate was there, but nobody was there. Just a couple of duffel bags and a whole slew of those 5-inch YAD binders. Carson relaxed.
It had been a long day of driving and pushing dead cars and walking and then mini chimis with Emily and Jennie, so Carson was wiped out. He was excited for the YAD orientation tomorrow, and wanted to get a lot of rest so he would be ready to offer his viewpoint on the direction Presbyterian faith should take in the coming years.
Stomach rumbling and eyes drooping, Carson called room service and ordered up a burger. By the time it came he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he needed the food and greedily swallowed the meat and bread down. He tossed the lettuce, tomato, and onions onto one of the beds and crashed down onto the other, his vision narrowing to a deep, dark tunnel. He was asleep even as his ravished body swung down through the air.
When he woke the first thing he thought of was E & J and what happened last night. He smiled, relishing the warmth and comfort of his bed. The morning light peeped through the curtains and daggered his eyes, so he shifted to rub them awake. Something was holding his right arm down...another right arm! Carson thought, "Did I remember wrong? Am I still in Emily and Jennie's room?"
Carson sat up abruptly and looked at the other bed. The lettuce, tomato, and onion was still there. He was in his own room!....But then who's arm was that around him?
[I leave the rest in the capable, lubed hands of the reader.]