Hey will you read this and give me your comment? (<was the question)?

Confessional I By Andrew Wogas








A story my friend wrote. I loved it.








Confessional I











I had my first sexual experience when I was fourteen years old. It was with that boy, Damien Reed, who lives two houses down from me. I was fourteen, he was sixteen. Of course, it was only innocent exploration, when my parents were out. We were up in my bedroom, as these things generally go, tentatively discovering aspects of our boyhood, what feels good, what doesn't, playing with fingers, tongues and lips. We weren't really old enough to understand the social and religious concepts of how what we were doing was essentially wrong, To us this sort of thing was really what boys our age did. Wasn't it?








Well, it was for us, and as would be expected our exploration and discovery intensified over the next few months, every Sunday afternoon after church when both our parents would stay for a special bible discussion group and sent us home to get ready for school, but of course as I have previously recounted, getting ready for school was hardly what we did. What started out as casual playing became something far too serious for boys of our age, and soon a strange bond appeared between us, the likes of which neither of us had ever felt before. It was one such Sunday afternoon when we were laying in bed together, stark naked, holding each other as if completing the bond that was the act we had just taken part in, that Damien turned to me.








"Do you realize how beautiful you look in the afternoon light?" He said slowly, as if mentally testing each syllable before it left his lips. I looked into his bottomless blue eyes, losing myself for a moment, not understanding how to interpret that sentence, resolving to tell him the same thing to put the pressure on him, seeing as I had no idea what to say. However, just as I opened my mouth to do so, he quickly interjected.








"Domenic" He started,"I'm in love with you." He turned away. "I don't know what to do because of Laura, she and I are supposed to be dating you know"








Now it was my turn to look away. I had no idea of this Laura, and if I had, his words (Using my full first name, as he so seldom did), would not have affected me so deeply, because what he felt for me I also felt for him.








"Damien," I began, pausing, "I'm also in love with you. Every time I see you, it feels like my heart beats so fast that it would surely burst. I feel so nauseated that it's like I am seasick from a cruise ship crossing turbulent water. Every time I see you, those little things in my life which don't seem to have a point all begin to make sense. I don't think you can fully understand how much you mean to me."








Damien's blue eyes began to well with tears. He moved to embrace me, climbing on top of and kissing me, my hand wandering for our two engorged members.








"Let us never get separated" he whispered to me, "I will end my limited relationship with Laura and I can be guilt free in loving you."








Unknown to us at the time, these were the last words we were to share, the last sexual bonding we would experience, for quite some time, as we had been too careless in our play this one darkening afternoon, and did not hear my strict Roman Catholic parents pull up in their old style sedan, did not hear them venturing inside and across the wooden floors, did not hear them over our own carelessly raised voices as we climaxed, did not hear as my father turned the door handle as Damien fell exhausted onto me for a deep, loving kiss. We heard, however, when he and my mother both began at the same time.








"Domenic Martin Phillips, what in the name of our almighty god is going on here?" My parents shrieked, my father bounding across the room to where we lay, a tangled sticky testament to our love.








Damien was the first to react, cursing and rolling off me in an attempt to save himself from what was inevitably going to happen. I however, just moaned out of sheer desperation, wishing at that moment to be anywhere but in my own house, and tried to hide under a pillow.








My father then ripped the coverings off of the bed, exposing us in all our nakedness, and with a roar of what sounded like primal instinct, ripped Damien out of my bed, drove a knee into his groin, and almost hurled him across the room, his lean body sliding across the wooden floors and coming to rest in the center of my bedroom, tears of pain and sadness now evident from those deep blue eyes of his. Using the pillow to hide my shame from my parents, I sat up, screaming and pleading for my father to stop, yelling anything I could about god's wishes and the commandments, but nothing could deter him. He approached where Damien lay, grabbing him by his messy blond hair and hoisting him to his feet, practically screaming in his face.








"If I ever see you anywhere near my son again, I will have you killed. Do I make myself clear?" My father yelled, his square face turning a deep shade of red as small flecks of spittle flew from his mouth. Damien just nodded.








"Damien, get your things, and get out of our house, you are no longer welcome under our roof" was all my mother said. It was all that was needed, as if on command my father released is grip on Damien's hair, allowing him to fall to his knees, before he got up and hastily pulled on his jeans, grabbing his shirt and shoes and darting out of my house as fast as he could. My father could barely contain himself.








"How dare you!" he turned and roared at me. "How dare you do this to us! To yourself! To god!" He stormed over to the bed, his six-foot-six form literally towering over me as I cowered behind the pillow, trying to hold on to what little dignity I had left.








"You have shamed us!" he continued, "all of the neighbours would have seen a half naked boy running from our house. We'll never be allowed in the church again! As for your words before, how dare you say gods name! You are not one of his children. You are not one of my children. As far as I'm concerned, I no longer have a son. I want you to get out of my house. You aren't welcome here anymore than that godless Damien now." And as if to drive the point, he sent a hard fist straight into my stomach, winding me. He was about to inflict more pain when my mother placed a slim hand on his shoulder.








"Marcus, I think he has learned his lesson. Stop hurting him. Dominic, pack your bags. Get dressed. I want to talk to you in the dining room when you're done."





By Andrew Wogas

Hey will you read this and give me your comment? (%26lt;was the question)?
This is a very moving story which I loved reading. For any young teen dealing with their sexuality and experimentation and the way their parents react. Thank you for posting this
Reply:Poignant and well written. Gut wrenching honesty makes for good reading. All I could find wrong with it was a few grammatical mistakes. If I were grading the paper for composition, it would most definately receive an A.
Reply:Ummm, thanks for sharing it, but Y!A is not very conducive to lengthy reads.
Reply:omg, that brought tears to my eyes, remembering a similar time in my young life, i love you Kerry, wherever you are!
Reply:Powerful.


Is the story true? What happened to Domenic?





God - people think being gay is a choice. Who would choose that?
Reply:Oh my, That is so heart wrenching. What happened though. I would love to know what happened. It just broke my heart, it really did.
Reply:oh that is such a sad/sweet story
Reply:It is too long to read.
Reply:is there a part 2??? that could definately be developed more!!
Reply:Not really my cup of tea, but its amusing though.



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