This is an erotic story about man-to-man sexual activities. If you are offended by such material, too young to read such, or it is illegal in your community, stop here and find something that won't get you in trouble. Otherwise, please enjoy! If you do, please drop me a note at mj_mclean2001@yahoo.com Thanks!
MISSION INTERRUPTED
Chapter I
The phone jarred me awake. I glanced quickly at the clock: 12:10. Not all that late, but the middle of the night by missionary standards. And middle-of-the-night phone calls rarely bring good news.
"Hello?" I said groggily as Elder Jeppesen sat up in his bed to see what was going on.
"Elder? This is Elder Larkin. One of the president's assistants. Couldn't be good news.
"We have a situation with Elder Lopez and we're going to need your help," Elder Larkin said. I had an idea what might be coming next. "Things are just not working out down in the next area over and Elder Travis has asked to have Elder Lopez moved out. They nearly came to blows tonight."
My heart sank. I was hoping it wouldn't play out like this, but I couldn't say I was surprised. I asked what I needed to do.
"Elder Travis is already on his way with Elder Lopez," the assistant said. "He'll stay there until we can come down and figure things out. One of you will need to go back with Elder Travis, maybe for a few days."
"Um, OK," I said slowly, trying to give the impression I was deciding who would go where, even though there was no question. "I'll have Elder Jeppesen go back with Travis."
"That's the way we'd prefer it since you're the senior ZL," Elder Larkin said. "We'll be there by mid-morning tomorrow and hopefully we can work something out."
We said our good-byes. I recounted the other half of the conversation to Elder Jeppesen, who nodded quietly, clearly relieved he would not be left here with Elder Lopez.
"I'll pack a few things and get ready to go," he said.
I stumbled into the other room of our tiny house and collapsed on the cheap sofa. I tried to sort out all the feelings that were racing through my mind, a nervous mix of concern, fear and, scariest of all, excitement. I felt parts of me stir that shouldn't and I scrunched my eyes closed, trying to figure out how events had taken such a tumultuous turn in barely a month.
I met Elder Stanley Lopez in the parking lot of the church two days after he was assigned to the area. We had just finished a zone conference and I wanted to meet the newest missionary. I'd heard way too much about him and none of it was very good.
He had been transferred to the Arizona-Holbrook Mormon mission from California after some trouble there. No one knew the details, but they were all to ready to speculate. Elder Lopez was a Native American by birth, but had grown up in Utah, first as part of the church's placement program that sent Navajo kids to live with families during the school year and later, after his mother died, to live with his Anglo family full-time.
The rumors suggested Elder Lopez had a problem with same-sex attraction, or, as one Elder from American Fork put it, "he's a homo, big-time. Heard he's always going after his comps, tries to climb in bed with them. Total fag."
My stomach tightened when I heard those stories. I said nothing. What could I say? That, hey, I could relate because there were a few of my comps I kinda wanted to bone too cause, hey, Elder American Fark, I'm a big-time homo too. What were they ever thinking, sending a bunch of horny 19-year-olds out for two years?
I tried to quash the fear I felt at being discovered and fought the feelings, even though the longer I spent in the mission field, the more I was realizing I could never win that battle. Not when I was assigned one cute companion after another and told never to leave his side? How could I not have the sort of dreams I wasn't supposed to have?
Now the troubled missionary was walking toward me. He smiled and held out his hand. I was speechless, nearly breathless. Elder Lopez was beautiful, with thick black hair that curled lazily, deep, dark eyes, a killed smile and --
"Elder? Are you OK? I said, I'm Elder Lopez."
I stuck out my hand and shook his and I smiled and at that moment I felt what I'd only heard described. It was like electricity except that it wasn't that abrupt. It was something that I knew enveloped us both -- I realized later our gaydar probably went off at the same time. He looked into my eyes and we both knew instantly. He smiled broader.
Panicking, I withdrew my hand and welcomed Elder Lopez to the zone. We walked over to the church gym and sat down for lunch. He kept looking at me, smiling, but I could tell he was nervous too. We talked and found an immediate connection. I think it irked our companions, but I didn't care -- I hadn't had such a wonderful conversation in months.
Over the next few weeks, we got together with Lopez and Travis on P-Day and on a couple of Sundays for church and for a baptism. Each time, Elder Lopez and I talked more and built a quick friendship.
Then one evening the phone rang. It was Elder Lopez. He sounded scared.
"Elder? I'm up at the hospital. Elder Travis had some sort of allergic reaction to some food tonight and had a seizure. They're looking at him. Can you two come up here?"
We leaped into our trucks and drove the short trip to the hospital. I hugged Elder Lopez, who fell into my arms briefly, then pulled away as he realized what he'd done. He told us what happened and found a doctor to explain things. Elder Travis would be OK, but needed at least a night in the hospital.
I asked Elder Jeppesen to call the mission home in Holbrook and make needed arrangements. Elder Lopez and I walked into the waiting room, where he fell into a chair and began to sob.
"This is my fault," he said through tears. "I've screwed up again, I know I have."
"It was an allergic reaction, Elder," I said. "It has nothing to do with you." I sat next to him and put my arm around him, letting him cry for a minute or two. Finally, I said: "Elder, we need to talk, don't we?"
He looked up at me and finally nodded.
For the next two or three hours, he told me his story, about growing up between two worlds, about his alcoholic parents on the Reservation, about learning to hate his own people because of the way his family fell apart. He talked about how relieved he was when he received a mission call to California and how much angush he felt when they transferred him to the reservation.
I hesitated, but didn't asked specifically what prompted the transfer. He said church leaders felt he might do better among his "own people." What made it worse, he said, was that our mission president saw him as a project and was determined to keep him out here, on the Rez, where he could be a "succces story."
"It's been miserable the whole time," he said. "You must have heard the stories."
I nodded quietly.
"I never did any of those things. They made it up because I freaked them out. And maybe I tried sometimes, to make them nervous, but I never did anything else, I promise."
I looked into his eyes and could see he was telling me the truth. I also noticed he didn't deny what was behind the rumors. I felt another bolt of something pass between us.
Elder Jeppesen cleared his throat and we both looked up.
"Elder Travis is going to need to spend the night here and maybe part of tomorrow. The president asked me to stay, but there's no need for all of us to sit up all night. Why don't you two go back to the house and get some sleep."
I agreed, though I felt a twinge of nerves as I thought of the two of us alone in the house.
Elder Lopez followed me to the truck. He said nothing, but I could tell he felt better after telling someone his story. We walked into the house and and Elder Lopez fell onto one of the beds. Within minutes, he was asleep. I covered him and fell into the other bed, exhausted.
The next morning, Elder Jeppesen called and told us Elder Travis was doing better, but needed some rest.
"I'm going to drive him home and let him sleep. I can catch up on some of the paperwork at the branch -- the branch president was asking for help last week. Why don't you two take our appointments today and meet us over here this evening."
I told Elder Lopez of our plans. He perked up right away. I suggested he take a shower while I fixed some breakfast.
I heard the water turn off as I stirred a pan of eggs and then heard a voice behind me.
"Guess what?"
I turned around and nearly dropped the pan. Elder Lopez stood there naked, wet and glistening from the shower. My jaw dropped. He was as beautiful as I had imagined many, many times. He was mostly smooth, with tufts of hair peeking out from under his arms and another one below his waist. And that was where I found myself looking, at a perfectly formed cock, hanging heavily over nicely shaped balls. I felt my own cock stirring until I realized what was going on.
"What?!? Elder, you're naked? What?!"
He laughed and casually ran his hand across his cock, which jumped and grew a bit.
"I don't have any clean clothes, remember? We came here straight from the hospital."
I stood a moment longer and finally gathered my wits, willing my own cock to stop growing.
"Um, uh, m-m-mine should fit you. I think we're both the same s-s-s-size ... " I said.
"Really?" he said with a leer. "I can't see yours."
"Geez, you know what I mean, c'mon, don't fool around. Let's get you into some of my clothes."
I showed him the dresser and the closet and told him to help himself to eggs while I took a shower. A cold shower.
When I walked out, dressed, he was eating.
"Your clothes fit perfectly. Even the garments. They feel soooo good ..."
My mind flashed on him wearing my underwear, the special kind we had to wear. I felt my dick stir. Oh how I wanted to say something, but I couldn't give in, no matter what. I was not going to be one of those elders who had to go home early in shame.
I tried to be businesslike the rest of the day, but after I while, I melted a little and we joked -- as innocently as I could keep it -- as we worked through a few appointments. When I dropped him off, we shook hands and then, as Elder Jeppesen and I walked out, Elder Lopez called out.
"I'll bring you your underwear next week!"
Elder Jeppesen shot me a stunned look. I explained on the way out and he seemed to accept it. But all I could think of on the drive back was how much I wanted to take back my underwear right now.
Things took a bad turn in the weeks that followed. Elder Lopez and Elder Travis began to bicker, calling us often to mediate. They argued about almost anything. In one quick moment stolen at a church service, Elder Lopez told me his companion was egging him on, bringing up the rumors and warning him to keep his distance.
And then the phone jarred me awake and now Elder Jeppesen and I waited to make the trade. We heard the truck pull up and two doors slammed. I opened our door. Elder Travis stalked in with his bags and mumbled something about a trunk in the truck. I walked out to the truck in time to see Elder Travis toss the trunk onto the ground.
"Good luck, Elder," he said with what I thought was a sneer. "You're going to need it."
Elder Jeppesen climbed in the truck and it sped off. I walked back into the house.
"I guess I finally brought back your underwear!" Elder Lopez said with a forced cheer.
"Elder, this is serious. The assistants to the president are coming down tomorrow to discuss things. They could send you home."
He scoffed. "They won't do that. The prez won't let one of his precious Navajos fail. They'll work it out. I'll say what I have to."
But I could see a little fear beneath his confidence. I recalled our conversation that night at the hospital and could only guess what he must be feeling. He was actually holding up well and I decided not to assume the worst. Elder Travis wasn't exactly blameless.
"We need to get some sleep. You can use Elder Jeppesen's bed."
Elder Lopez walked over and hugged me. "Thanks for being so understanding. It means more than you can know." I returned the hug and we stood there for longer than companions probably should. Finally, we both fell into our beds.
The alarm went off too soon. I got up and peed, then climbed back into bed to study a little. Elder Lopez returned from the bathroom and, without warning, leaped into my bed with me.
"Companion study!" he called out, diving under the covers and snuggling up next to me. I felt his leg graze mine as he rested his arm on my chest.
I jumped from the bed like I'd been shocked with a bare wire. I instantly regretted it when I saw the hurt on Elder Lopez' face. I tried to cover.
"The apes will be hear soon, we can't let them see us like this," I stammered. "Let's get cleaned up."
Before he could say anything, I grabbed some clean garments and raced to the shower. I turned on the water and stood beneath the stream, fighting a dozen emotions. I tried to deny the thrill I felt when I felt our legs connect, but I couldn't.
I felt my cock begin to grow and I began to stroke it slowly, imaginging what might have happened if I'd stayed put. Imagined feeling Elder Lopez' hand caress my pecs, feeling his leg wrap around mine. Imagined feeling his lips brushing across mine, softly at first, then more firmly. Imagining how his tongue would find mine as his hand moved slowly to my cock. Imaginging his hand easing beneath the waistband of my garment bottoms and finding what he wanted. I stroked myself harder, picturing him doing it for me as our tongues wrestled and I pulled him on top of me, feeling his hardening cock on mine, grinding our hips together, pulling our garments off until we were naked ... I stroked harder as the water streamed down my body, picturing Elder Lopez kneeling in front of me as I sat on the bed, watching him take my throbbing cock into his mouth, feeling it slide into his throat until ... until ... the assitants walked into the house.
I hit my head on the shower wall as I jerked from my fantasy, just as my cock shot a hot stream of cum onto the shower curtain. I nearly moaned aloud as I came, one squirt after another, releasing pressure that had been building for so long. I heard a knock at the door.
"Are you OK?" Elder Lopez said.
"Are -- are the apes here yet," I managed to say.
"No, not yet. Are you OK?"
"I'm fine. Be right out."
I cleaned off the shower curtain and rinsed off with cold water, terrified that Elder Lopez -- or worse, the assistants -- would know what I'd done. I dressed quickly and fixed breakfast as Elder Lopez, still a little hurt from what had happened in bed, cleaned up.
The assistants arrived about an hour later with one of the other elders from the hoome. They took Elder Lopez across the parking lot to the church and asked me to wait in the house with the other elder. We made small talk, but he looked uneasy.
It was nearly three hours before one of the assistants walked back over. He asked the two of us to wait outside while he made a phone call. About half an hour later, he emerged and explained what would happen. I grew numb as he talked.
Elder Lopez wanted to go home. He was unhappy and didn't think he could stay the last six months of his mission. We agreed. But the president doesn't believe that's what's supposed to happen. He believed Elder Lopez should remain out here. And he believes you -- " he looked at me sharply " -- can make that happen."
I looked questioningly.
"Elder Lopez said he would stay if he could work with you. The president thinks that's what should happen. Obviously, Elder Lopez can't become a zone leader, so the two of you are being moved to Window Rock. Today. Get packed."
I stood dazed for a moment. Once again, Elder Lopez had reduced me to a flurry of mixed-up emotions and feelings. I didn't care about the zone leader part -- I was actually relieved to get rid of that busywork job. But I was now expected to guide the spiritual development of an elder who could get me hard just walking across the room. I was supposed to make sure he stayed an elder, focusing his attention on the work when all I wanted to focus on were his lips and those eyes and the rest of his soft body.
From across the parking lot, Elder Lopez emerged from the church. His eyes were red, but he looked happy at the same time somehow. He stopped and took my hand, shaking it deliberately.
"Well, comp, let's get packed. We have work to do."
To be continued