That Sunday evening, she couldn't fall asleep. Perhaps she was too old to keep volunteering for him, she thought. All the same, she was glad that the inquisition ended and it was time to go home. And what Hiram said made so much sense that the thought of it was purifying. 'Sometimes, God wills for one of His daughters to experience wickedness so that she will emerge stronger than ever,' he said, 'temptation is therefore crucial.

But then he stilled himself and her release came. She wasn't so sure now whether he needed to adjust his pants so much. He started stroking her shoulder gently, still asking her disturbing questions about the incident. Hiram's hand didn't feel so comforting to her, especially while he was making her relive the experience.

She should have just screamed and ran off right away, he told her and she agreed, and now she felt that guilt square on her shoulders. He put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her, his other hand still under the table. Was it circumcized? Was it erect? The pastor adjusted his pants a few times, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, and she felt so dirty more he probed. She had to repeat her description of how hairy it was. Each question made her feel increasingly more uncomfortable. The pastor shifted positions in his seat several times. Why didn't she scream? Why didn't she call for help? How long did she watch? He initially sounded disturbed, and then started asking her uncomfortable questions that made it seem as if she did something wrong. Next Sunday she told a youth pastor at her church about the incident. She felt unsettled, and she was unsettled. Raw incidents like this one triggered her in ways she'd never anticipated and brought this up to the surface under which she buried it. There was no husband to look forward to, she thought bitterly at times, not in her small town. Year after year she was encouraged by everyone to take great pride in it, and she did.Īfter she graduated from highschool, her parents forbade her from attending college, comparing such places to brainwashing cults, so she was just here waiting for a husband to show up at some unspecified point in the future and so she ended up somehow bypassing dating and sex entirely. She'd taken an abstinence vow since early ages and renewed her pledge every year in a public ceremony, surrounded by her parents and friends. Was he in pain? What was that look anyway? That was so bizarre and unholy.Ĭara didn't know much about sex on the account of her upbringing. She kept trying to diagnose the face, that particular grimace. That unkempt penis kept pushing against the glass, head flattened against it.

Instead, the moment kept coming to her mind. After the second knock she put the shifter in reverse and backed out of the parking spot and drove off.Īt first, she told nobody about the incident. Her heart was beating so fast and her stomach felt as if it migrated to her throat. Within seconds his penis was now fully erect and he was beating it desperately and morbidly Cara could not peel her eyes off it. She defensively pretended that she didn't understand why he knocked and just watched, frozen in place. In time, the penis made contact with her glass, and as Cara kept staring at it, the man knocked on the window with a knuckle. His face disappeared as he got closer, blocked by the roof. Her little car was rather low to the ground so the penis ended up being smack in the middle of the window. His face looked screwed up like he was in agony, and he kept inching closer toward the glass. The man looked desperate, he kept stroking it just so. Cara stared back and covered her mouth in shock. She looked over to her right, and a fat unshaved guy was standing by her car window, his penis hanging outside of his cargo shorts, his hand tugging it fast.

It would take a few minutes for the A/C to get going in the Texas humidity and she had a long drive to her small town. She carefully got in her unlocked Geo Metro on the account of the floor-length dress she wore, still smiling, and cranked the engine. She was smiling, love of the morning's service still fresh in her mind. It was ungodly hot outside and her flowy blonde hair bobbed with each springy step, helping to cool her neck. She eschewed plastic bags, because Christ surely would have frowned on such cumulative waste year after year. Cara walked out of the store clutching her purchases for the upcoming vacation.

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