Author's Note:
A Valentine's story of sexual curiosity and budding romance for a virtuous, virgin Christian youth director swept into one of life's paradoxes when her flight is canceled by a freak Texas thunder snow.
Michelle's moral stance shifts as she seeks shelter with a man after a perilous mistake puts them in danger of freezing to death. It takes Michelle a while to warm up, physically and emotionally, before she rises to a soulful climax. May you enjoy the slow warm up along with Michelle on this wintery Valentine's Day tale. --Sandy
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*** Personal Question - Paradoxical Answer ***
"Who was your first?" Pomona's question was a little personal and I was hesitant to share the truth. Or at least the circumstances.
She immediately sensed that she had gone too far with her question, or at least too quick. Pomona's chin dropped, breaking eye contact as a silent apology.
For my part, I knew that my hesitation to share an answer was a minor transgression of the Sisterhood Code. I was supposed to be open with another woman after we spent the afternoon and evening in emotional conversation.
Pomona was more than a supportive member of the church, she had become a friend. We had grown closer as I invested serious hours in listening, counseling and comforting her during her daughter's crisis. Any line that once existed between clergy and a parishioner needing congregational care, had been blurred by now. Not sure where or how to handle her question, a heavy, uncomfortable silence hung in Pomona's living room.
"Our lives are a paradox, are they not?" I began. "We are fallen creatures, pushed by our spirit heavenward to attain high and pure purposes, yet we carry a seed in our soul that pulls us in the other direction. There is something in the soul that digs its roots deep into comforts of primal pleasures and draws up from there a nourishment, we are sustained by this intimacy - even by our lusts."
Pomona's countenance brightened with my statement, she understood I had just reached out to her as an equal. She intuited that I had just shed the mantle as spiritual counselor and I had taken on the role of sister-friend. Pomona needed a friend more than she needed a counselor.
"It's already late, may I get you a cup of coffee?" offered Pomona as she rose to go to the kitchen before I considered my reply. "I should make a good, fresh pot, shouldn't I?" she called from around the corner, again not expecting an answer before she got started.
"Might as well," I said in resignation, "This could get involved - but keep in mind, Pomona, that I'm sharing this story with you as a friend, not as an ordained hypocrite." I added with a light-heated guffaw, "You understand?"
She called from the kitchen, "Oh, do I understand. I understand our lives are filled with paradoxes - tell me about it, girl."
*** A Righteous Beginning, A Mistake ***
Pomona, seated across from me, took hers black. She waited in a casual recline as I added sugar then cream. "Just waiting for you to 'stir things up,''' she added with a smirk as she watched me swirl the elements into my steaming mug.
I took a sip. The bitter brew, now sweetened with a mix of sugar and cream, slipped warm down my throat. With a steaming cup between my palms, I was warming up to spill the beans. "My 'first' was a bit like a mug of coffee, bitter contents made so comforting and palatable with sweeteners like sugar and..."
"What the hell?" interrupted Pomona, "This sounds like one of the metaphors you usually use to start one of your sermons. Hell's bells Michelle, this isn't going to be a sermon - is it?"
After a gulp of coffee, I took a moment to relax and recalibrate to girl-talk mode. "No. No it's not meant to be a sermon. This is a Valentine's Day story. It's my secret, intimate Valentine's Day story. And like I was saying, it was a bitter, miserable, freaky weather, confusing Valentine's Day that ultimately turned sweet and comforting once some of those deep-rooted yearnings of the soul were mixed into my steaming cup. It's a paradox, one of my worst days led to one of my best. What was bitter in the beginning led me to realize the sweetness of an earthy, soulful life rooted in primal pleasures and even lust."
Pomona grinned, "I like your sermons Michelle, but I think I'm going to love your story."
*** Church Girl in a Frozen Hell ***
Settling into the cushions, tucking my knees up under my skirt, I began the improbable story of 'my first.'
"I was young. Though at the time I thought I was pretty old for a virgin. I'd finished at the university and then I had completed my training to become a certified church youth director. Seminary would come a few years later.
"I was thrilled to accept an offer for a youth director position at a large church. I was desperate to hit all the marks; I was eager to get to know the kids and I was adamant that I would be a fine, upright and unbesmirched example of Christian virtue for the youth.
"My church sent me to a youth conference out-of-state. Among other duties, I was an uptight, hard-ass, chastity chaperone overseeing a bubbling pool of hormones. Damn, I was vigilant; squelching boners and drying up young wet pussies. If, by the end of the conference; no lives were lost and no lives were created, I'd attained my measure of success.
"On my return, I had a layover in Dallas. I was upset when my flight was delayed, then ultimately rescheduled for the next day because of a couple of back-to-back severe cold fronts that were clipping across the country. Disaster hit home when it was announced that all flights were canceled because of the icy winter weather. I was furious at God. What was He doing to me? This is Texas, land of parched mesquite trees and dusty tumbleweeds. It's not supposed to snow in Texas, much less for multiple days.
I'd already spent one hellacious, uncomfortable night crowded into DFW Airport with a seething cast of thousands of stranded passengers. It was the 'Valentine's Day snowpocalypse.' With each continuing hour of freezing rainfallI, I was facing the prospect of being stranded for a second night. My fate of being stuck on an uncomfortable airport bench without my luggage seemed unbearable.
While looking in vain for a place to buy a toothbrush, I ran into a professional acquaintance who was also stranded. She introduced me to a guy, Antonio, with whom she had some connection. He was a few years older than me, I was told he was in advertising, writing jingles for TV ads and stuff.
My acquaintance excused herself, as she had a lead on finding some ground transportation that she hoped could get her out of this frozen-over hell at DFW airport. I wished her luck, leaving the two of us newly introduced strangers standing uncomfortably in a crowd of strangers.
"Been here all day and all night?" he asked to make small talk. He must have known my obvious answer.
"Yah. I spent a miserable month in Dallas one night," was my snide quip. "Actually two days, and it's looking like I'll be stuck here for a night two too."