SHORT STORY: Religiously fat

Religiously Fat

By: Aadel M Al-Mahdy

My friend and I were separated from our wives. His wife kicked him out of the house and wasted no time to have a relation with his best friend. He approached me one day saying that there was a church where a priest and his wife hold meetings once a week for counseling couples with marital problems. He suggested that we could go there for help. I was skeptical and told him that I haven’t never been to a church. He said he has not been either and that we should go since the counselingwas free. I was still hesitant. My problem was far more complicated. He said he knew I did not have a care, so he offered to give me a left. The next day we went to the designated church. In a big room there were many people, women and men and on a small buffet table, there were coffee, tee, cakes and a variety of pastries mostly brought in by attendants. We sate somewhere. Scanning the room with my eyes, I caught sight of him, and I moved my eyes no further.  

His mouth looked like a little hole separated from his small nose by a well-groomed, well-waxed, yellow mustache whose ends were so carefully twined and perfectly curved upward. His eyes were pasture-like green and perfectly arching eyebrows well-trimmed. His face was shaven and blood almost jumped out of his round cheeks. He was a man of short stature and with abdominal bulge that was prominent and tightly round. Whenever he wanted to pick a sweet ball, his short hands and stumpy fingers had to maneuver in such a manner more precisely calculated than the movements of a geisha dancer. With all dignity, his big rear-end filled a chair next to the buffet. His shining pair of black shoes bespoke of the smallness of his feet, and the bold spot on his head and the relaxed look on his face made him look like Bacchus, the Greek God, or a happy Buddha. He stole a look at the attendants and while everybody was busy he hesitantly but nimbly picked a sweet ball and threw it in his little mouth. I started to wonder who he was. “He is the priest and Catherine’s husband” as though he divined my thoughts, my friend whispered to me. “Who is Catherine?” I whispered back to him. He pointed to a woman sitting in the far corner of the room talking to a man who had an aura of a flamboyant and whispered again, “She is the counselor who will talk to us after we all have settled”

Catherine was in her late-forties, a few years younger than her husband. She was every thing her husband was not; slim and beautiful. She also wore a broad smile, but her smile failed to conceal from the expert eye her latent misery. I failed to resist an urge for stealing a peek again at her husband. While I was looking at him, I wondered when the last time he copulated with his wife was. I shook my head to brush the thought off my mind but it was soon occupied by the image of my high school geography teacher whom we; my classmates and I, named Mr. Plateau as he was really a very big man. We all wondered how such a mound would be able to mount his wife ─, “He has to lie on his back and copulate with her in an astride position” ” Zachary suggested during the recess. Thomas was skeptical, but Zachary then said, handing a marijuana joint to Nathaniel, “You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out. I see it all the time on the internet. Don’t you people have computers at home? There’re all kinds of porno” Zachary sucked deeply on the marijuana roach given back to him and then continued, “Fat people, big boobs, black, Asian, interracial, and gay; transsexuals, and lesbians, and if you are a real pervert interested in bestiality…” Nathaniel interrupted warning him, “Shushush, Jessica is coming, Zachary” Zachary shrugged and sucked deeply on the joint then kept the inhaled smoke in his lungs for a second before releasing it and then said, “So what, she is a slut. I bet you if you give her twenty dollars, she’ll give you a blow job” Jonathan interjected, “I won’t let her even for free. She is a filthy whore” Zachary laughed and then left, but Jessica, who caught sight of him, yelled, “Hey, Zac. Devils away, eh” ─ Zachary, who did not even care to turn and look at her, said, “You are an angel, Jessie” then bent over slightly and slammed his own butt with both hands and added, “Give me a freaking break!”

Others were still wondering that the teacher had to be extremely well-endowed in order to be able to intercourse his wife. Jessica wondered what we were talking about, but we all shut her up and asked her to get lost. As soon as Jessica left, I said, “May be the poor man is sexually deprived. May be he never had sex with her” They all then looked at me asking for an explanation. “I just can not imagine that he is able to intercourse his wife. It just does not sit well in my mind” I said. “Why?” Peter asked. “Well, I have watched one day on the TV a documentary on elephants in must”, then paused looking in their faces and continued, “I saw a young elephant mounting a female elephant and despite he tried all what he could, his enormous organ failed to access her vagina though her external vaginal lips were so large and thick and hanging down” I said. “What a looser” Peter said, “Her labia were an easy navigable canal for his river barrage to follow a mating course, but still he failed to steer!”
I said, laughing at his description, “That is right, but out of frustration, the female shook him off her and ran away screaming for another older and more experienced male” Everybody burst out laughing, too, and punning on his navigation concept, peter said, “This young elephant has not definitely been aboard before this one time”

I looked at the priest again and then a thought crossed my mind. The pleasure he obtained from throwing the sweet balls into his mouth was one side of a coin the other side of which was the misery shown on his wife’s face; a coin called sexless marriage. Unconsciously, I got a loony out of my pocket and flipped it in the air a couple of times and then but abruptly I stood up to leave. “We haven't talked to Catherine yet” said my surprised friend. Holding the loony between my fore and middle fingers and waving it before his face, I said, “No need my friend. My coin is too rusty to be polished. So I have decided to toss it into the ocean” ─ Puzzled, my friend’s mouth gaped.

On exiting the church, my eyes caught sight of the donation box. I looked at it for a while and then smiled slipping the loony into it, totally aware, though, that I'll have to walk all the way home as I became unable financially to take the bus.

The End