*** COMPERSION: n. The feeling of joy associated with seeing a loved one love another.
1 Opening The Door
We were both brought up in the Mennonite faith and everyone in our small community church knew that one day, Hanna and I would be wed. It wasn't that I was some great catch, but we grew up in an area where the pickings were slim. The population of our little town was about 1500 and a fourth of the area was Mennonite. The other 75% of the population was local farmers and homemakers, shop owners and a handful of coal miners. Everyone pretty much got along and treated our clan with respect. Life was simple and peaceful.
Sex before marriage was definitely a no-no within the Mennonite Community. Before our marriage, Hanna and I never did anything more than kiss behind the barn and once… Well, once she lifted her dress and flashed her panty-covered butt for me. Sex wasn't even really discussed. In every marriage it was like the blind leading the blind. So, it was no surprise that our marriage- And more specifically, Our sex life, was less than lackluster.
I had no idea how to please a woman- Sexually, that is. I couldn't tell you which part was the labia and which part was the clitoris. All I knew was that I was supposed to shove my dick inside her and move until I reached orgasm. Hanna would simply lay there with this near bored look on her face. I knew it was only a matter of time before things were going to get worse.
Mark was a townie I knew from the local grocery. He was a tall, slender fellow with dark brown curls of hair that hung into his bright blue eyes. At 24, he was two years my senior. Mark was a manager at the store and seemed like an all around nice guy. Most everyone in town really liked him, however, rumors and gossip were occasionally heard from behind closed doors and around corners. Some said he devoted his life to God. Others whispered he was a homosexual. Most just thought Mark was a sweet guy who didn't seem romantically interested in women or men.
My first wedding anniversary was approaching fast and life at home had gotten very stagnant. Hanna seemed unfulfilled and I knew I needed to change something or our relationship would fall apart. I tried treating her more kindly. I tried to tend to her every need, but nothing seemed to work. One night, in late October, I was sitting on my front porch around 8:00pm when I heard a faint cry coming from our bedroom. I immediately bolted into the house and flew up the stairs. When I reached our room, I flung the door open to find Hanna naked and sprawled out on our bed. Her one hand was forcing three fingers into her hairy mound's hole and the other was rubbing the fleshy folds above it.
I exclaimed, "Hanna! My goodness! What are you doing?"
She quickly recoiled into a fetal position and covered her head. I moved slowly towards her and reassured her I had no intentions of harming her, but that I just wanted to know what was going on. She began to sob and her entire form quaked.
"My father caught my mother once," she explained, "And he beat her with his belt."
"Hanna," I replied, "Now, you know good and well that I would never hurt you."
I got up from the bed and went to draw her a bath. I knew that I needed guidance, so I prayed to God as I added the powdered soap to the hot water filling the tub. I told Hanna to take a bath and relax. She asked me if I was angry or if I was going to tell her parents or worse, Reverend James. I assured her that I was not angry and I would not tell anyone in our family and especially, Reverend James. Hanna slipped into the bathroom and I put my jacket on and went for a walk in the woods.
Luke wrapped his arms around Dylan’s back and caressed his spinal cord, fingernails brushing down the soft skin as their legs interlaced and their groins continued to push together, getting slightly faster by every passing, teasing moment...
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