Title: Sex & The Church V
Synopsis: The seedy side of church and its virile young men out to get laid.
Disclaimer:
The following
contains some Christian scenes written in a Christianly way.
All characters
appearing in this work are Christians.
Any resemblance to
persons living or dead is a miracle.
List of Characters:
Jason Loh –
resident glutton
Goh Xin Yuen –
resident rapist
Alan – Alabama Man
Melinda – soap
opera villainess
Steven – cell
warden
Kuantan Nurse –
fresh meat 1#
Micha – fresh meat
2#
Alice –
gossipmonger 1#
Helen –
gossipmonger 2#
Pastor Daniel Ho –
the pontiff
Chapter 5:The Kingdom of God
It is a truth
universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good car must be
in want of speeding. Xin Yuen’s concept of driving consists of abusing the
accelerator until the tyres produce a sensation of flying in space. And that
was how we glided marvellously through traffic on our way to church, with adrenaline pumping and spirits soaring high. The young executive director was a
thrill-seeker in the fast lane. The fact that he did not believe in Newton’s 3rd
Law of Motion meant that he did not believe in momentum upon impact. With his
massive god complex, the man was convinced of his invincibility on the road.
He believed himself indestructible.
“Hey, wait till the cops come after you,” I rebuked him. This
would be a great time for the traffic police to pop up.
“If they come, I just need to show them my car plate,” he
said smugly, almost dismissively. Those (creepy) eyes were hidden under a dark
pair of shades, creating an image reminiscent of a Korean celebrity.
The rest of the morning was spent in church. Ordained men of
cloth stood at the doorway of the auditorium to greet each and every visitor to
Sunday service. Clad smartly in office suits, the DUMC pastors could well be
mistaken as business executives as they practiced their well-trained handshakes
to usher in a train of equally well-dressed men and women. Pamphlets containing
the Word of God were systematically distributed to the flock of obedient sheep
at the entry. Some ladies looked resplendent in their frocks, while their CEO
husbands begrudgingly occupied special cells reserved for the bourgeois class.
The church was a metaphor for consumerist modernity, its very existence being
an example of fine cosmopolitan living. Every Christian has a specific job, a
regular routine. Like a well-oiled machine, they performed their duties well –
some carried trays, some ushered us to seats, some ran the concierge, some
handled the camera and some just danced on the stage. Membership fees were
reasonably priced, although paying ten percent of your income to the church was
deemed an excellent way of showing devotion to Jesus. Tithing was not only
encouraged, but made mandatory with a simple signature on a binding contract. I
was awed by the dedication and zeal shown by Christians.
The auditorium was freaking huge. Above the glitzy stage was
a podium. When the devotees were not busy dancing or blasting away music from a
live band, we have the Supreme Leader himself, Pastor Daniel Ho giving his
sermon which was broadcasted live from a big screen LCD display at multiple
locations. Like a rockstar, he entertained us with biblical parables taken from
contemporary living. Pastor Ho was an extremely charismatic man. His astuteness
in speech was only matched by his disarmingly warm and congenial aura. Blessed
with spiritual gifts, he was able to see visions and premonitions, as evidenced
by his weekly reporting of what he saw (and sensed) to his congregation. My
cell leader, Steven, once assured me that Pastor Ho was entirely holy and
without any cardinal sin. This unblemished state no doubt rivalled that of the
Pope. Each Sunday celebration would end with a prayer spoken by some random
dude. These prayers sounded gibberish and mangled. I was told that they were
speaking in tongues, and that this spiritual gift can be harnessed with proper
training from the church.
Xin Yuen chose a seat right atop of the auditorium, isolated
from the rest. It was a nice throne to display his new prize – me. We chattered
non-stop like two naughty children in class while Pastor Ho delivered his
sermon. Oblivious to his surrounding, Xin Yuen drew a whimsical cat in his
notebook while I drew a comical duck in exchange. He shared tales of his love
life and his previous relationships while I kept an impassive mask. Stories
like his were most common, and I took them with a pinch of salt as I know men
are not exceptionally well-known for honesty. Gradually, I felt a curious
warmth snaking behind my shoulders, and I realized he had rested his arms
around my seat rather protectively. Briefly, I considered removing them but
that would be awfully rude, not to mention awkward. It would be a disaster. Not
an option. On second thought, I desired that warmth, that feeling of closeness.
His arms were so coaxing and gentle.
“May I pray for you?” asked Xin Yuen with a note of concern.
This was probably the No.1 pick-up line of Christian men, and I daresay, the
most effective way of getting into the good books of any self-respecting girl.
Softly, he touched my shoulders and muttered a soothing prayer. My muscles
relaxed immediately under the magic.
Perhaps things were moving a little too fast. Perhaps I was
too absorbed in his charm that I failed to see what was truly happening.
Whatever it was, we missed an opportunity to develop a wonderful friendship.
And it had dire repercussions.
By the time I entered the lion’s lair – his house, the
tell-tale sign of sexual tension was blooming under the guise of friendship. We
were greeted by the sound of little pattering feet and a small dog flew
straight out of kitchen, bouncing up and down like an elastic ball of rubber
with his hyperactive backs. “Terri, come, Terri,” commanded his master, but the
petite canine turned his attention to me, sinking his tiny claws into my cotton
leggings while pawing me affectionately. Aww. I took a good look at his pet
poodle. Terri happened to be a toy dog of the terrier breed, and his mane of
snow-white fur, slightly curly and glossy, looked frantically conditioned and
well-groomed. Somehow, his uninhibited energy reminded me of a Jack Russell. I
checked the fabric of my leggings, hoping that they were not scratched.
“Come, let me give you a tour of my home,” said the lord of
the mansion. My eyes swept across the opulent kitchen, drinking in the details
of its tasteful furnishing, smooth black counter, plain dining table, and a
spectacular swimming pool on the open veranda. Everything looked clean, simple
and Spartan. Interestingly, Xin Yuen kept a family of Rottweilers at a
fenced-up area in his yard, and I was lucky enough to view these ferocious dogs.
Three generations of canines dwelled at the kennel, sniffling and barking
loudly at strangers. I saw grandpa Rottweiler, papa Rottweiler and mama
Rottweiler roaming about with puppy Rottweiler. The man was nuts over dogs. He
was something of a dog whisperer, able to command these big strong animals
without getting mauled. Perhaps the secret is just to be narcissistic.
Nevertheless, Cesar Millan would be totally proud of him.
Then something weird happened. He accidentally pressed up
against my back. As he brushed against my waist, I felt a certain hardness
behind me. It was only a fleeting second, yet my pulse had quickened slightly.
Was it only my imagination? I could not tell for sure. It was probably the
buckle of his jeans, and I was willing to give him the benefit of a
doubt. He had such a warm aura of hospitality, and I felt somewhat secure in
his residence.
Soon he invited me to tour his bedroom. We climbed the
spiralling staircase to his private quarters, a place where Terri was forbidden
to follow at the moment. The first thought that struck me as I entered his
chamber was just how polished and boyish it looked. Besides the customary
desktop PC, there was a bookshelf lined with rows of fantasy novels, and a huge
closet. This was definitely the living space of a man very much driven by
self-image.
My gaze, however, rested firmly on the bed, an object of my
speculation. To my knowledge, a bed expresses the personality of a man, and I
was curious as to how it would reflect on Xin Yuen. The four-poster Queen-sized
bed had clean white sheets, and a neat coverlet that was too boring to say the
least. As soon as I saw the mattress, I realized that Xin Yuen was a guy that
is not too concerned with physical comfort. He might as well have a cushion or
a TV sofa for a bed. There is no finesse, no art in the construction of his
private resting spot. In fact, it looked super Spartan. This bespoke of a
rough-and-tumble character, one who does not smell the roses or rest easily on
his laurel. My ears caught the sound of Terri climbing the stairs. Those tiny, furry
paws that rustled against wood. Ugh-ugh. I need to remove my leggings
now to prevent claw marks. Quickly, I sat on the bed and my butt sank into the
yielding mattress, leaving a slight crinkle on the smooth linen sheets. As I began
pulling off my leggings, Xin Yuen jerked suddenly and shifted his gaze away to
give me a bit of privacy. His reaction was almost like a shy schoolboy, and it
hit me like an electro bolt, awakening a sense of power within me. Suddenly, I
felt like a naughty school teacher. The perversity of the scenario was quite
titillating.
It did not help that he entered the bathroom for such an
awfully long time afterwards. I was playing with his dog that finally popped up
for a visit. Cute little Terri loved a nice, pampering massage. He rolled over
lazily for the treatment. I began to hum a tune when the man came out of his
washroom, saying “Let’s play some pool.”
Next thing I know, I was leaning over the pool table in a
pathetic attempt to hit balls with a stick. It missed. Clumsy arms be dammed. They
often refused to cooperate at the most critical moments, leaving me looking
like a dork. Although I could really smack some guys around with my chess
skills, pool is just not my cup of tea. The lion wrapped his fingers around my
hands, enveloping my torso in an attempt to help me adjust the pool stick and
coordinate its angle. We bent down on the pool table, eyes focused on the white
ball. Once again, he brushed against my back, and I felt the unmistakable
contact of something solid. This was the second time I had experienced it.
Surely this was no coincidence? Was it a figment of my imagination? I stole a
glance at his face, which betrayed nothing.
Confused, I contemplated my next course of action as he
scored point-after-point with his trusty pool stick. It was obvious that this
game was a stroll in a park for the man, the results being a foregone
conclusion. Slowly, I felt a gnawing sense of boredom. A distraction was
needed. And it was right there. Before my eyes. When he positioned himself at the
edge of the table... I zoned in on the sight of his rear. It was a deliciously
flat rear. And the moment he bent down sticking it up, the temptation was
beyond resisting. “SMACKkkkk!!~” I delivered an immensely satisfying slap to
the portruding rear of the man. FTW. This was a moment of victory for me,
as I tried hard not to giggle like an idiot. It caused the molested pool expert
to miss the ball, knocking it to a corner. Happily, I suddenly realized I could
play dirty in order to win. A devilish idea emerged in my mind. Soon, I began
trolling him, hovering behind his back to harass the player in hope that he
would make mistakes. I was right. The quality of his game did deteriorate, but
he was still able to end it with a few good swipes.
After the fun had ended, Xin Yuen settled in the couch,
lounging in a state of languor. It was a moment of precious silence and Terri
pattered up for another round of massage. I half-knelt, half-crouched to the
level of the dog, lifting up the hemline of my dress by accident. Creamy thighs
were exposed in the process. I could almost feel a pair of smouldering eyeballs
burning holes into my back. A rustle of clothes and the man stood up from his
couch.
“Come on. Into my room. I need to show you something.”
