Luke Rheinhart - The Diceman

`The Church has naturally played down this tradition,' I said, taking a satisfied swallow from my own drink. `It has

felt that young girls might be seduced unnecessarily in their dream of converting men, and although such an act would not be sinful, it was decided to create the impression that all sex was evil. The masses, of course, have thus lived in ignorance of God's true purpose.'

At last she looked up at me and smiled sadly.

`I'm going to take more history,' she said.

I turned to her, and with my right hand brushed away her hair from her cheek.

`I'd love to have a student like you in one of my classes. I get so lonely for someone with whom I can talk about

things.'

'Do you?'

`I feel spiritually lost, alone - since losing my wife. I've needed the warmth of a woman's mind and body, but until this

evening all I've ever met were dull, pedantic women that weren't able to . . . unselfishly give themselves to me.'

`I like you very much,' she said tentatively.

'Ah Terry, Terry…'

I took her in my arms, spilling the last of her drink onto the floor and couch. I hugged her tenderly, my eyes, well

above the level of her head, fixing idly on the manila folder on the bookcase. The radio was blaring, `Why Don't We

Do It in the Road?'

`Please, my darling,' I said, `come with me now to the bed room.'

She held herself still in my arms and didn't answer. The music stopped, and the radio announcer began running off at

the mouth about the incredible power of Gleem toothpaste: he followed that without pausing for breath with kind

words for Robert Hall's.

`You're so big,' she finally said.

`I have a great need for you.'

She remained still. I released my embrace and looked down at her. She looked up at me nervously and said: `Kiss me

first' She reached her arms up around my neck, and as we kissed I slid heavily forward on top of her. We writhed

together for more than a minute.

`Am I too heavy?' I asked.

`A little bit,' she said.

`Let's go to the bedroom.'

We disentangled and stood up.

`Where to?' she asked, as if we were about to begin a long hike.

This way,' I said, and after we had negotiated the ten paces into the bedroom I added: `That's the bathroom.'

We look at each other. `You undress there. I'll undress here.' `Thank you,' she said and walked into the bathroom, her shoulder just bumping the doorway as she entered. I undressed myself, dropping my clothes neatly in select piles between the bed and an old walnut dresser. Inside the king-size double bed, I but my hand behind my head and watched the ceiling swirl like cosmic nebulae. Five minutes later the nebulae were still providing the only active entertainment.

`Terry?' I called neutrally.

`I can't,' she said from inside the bathroom.

`What?'

I said loudly.

She came out fully dressed, her eyes red and the lipstick on her lower lip completely chewed away. Standing stiffly

halfway between the bathroom door and the bed she said: `It's been a mistake. I'm not who you think I am.' `Then who are you?'

`I'm - I'm nobody.'

`Oh no, Terry, you're wonderful, whoever you are.'

`I'm - but I can't go to bed with you.'

`Ah Terry,' I said and started to get out of bed when I saw by her facial expression that she might run. Sitting up, I

said: `Well then, who are you?'

'I'm - I was sent here as part of a - an experiment of the Columbia Medical School.'

`No!' I said; flabbergasted.

`Yes. I'm really just a college girl, a pretty innocent college girl, I guess. I wanted to do the experiment the best I

could, but I can't.'

`My God, Terry, that's incredible, that's wonderful. So was I.'

She looked at me blankly.

`So - were - you - what?'

'I was sent here as part of an investigation into the nature of human sexuality conducted by the Columbia Medical

School. I'm Father Forbes of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.'

She stared at my bulky, nude torso.

`I see,' she said.

`The quirks of fate have sent together two innocents!' I raised my eyes to the ceiling briefly; it responded with a swirl.

`I've got to go,' she answered.

`My child, you can't go. Don't you see there is the hand of God in this. Have you ever given yourself to a man?'

`No, Father, and I must go.'

`My child; you must stay. By everything that is holy you must stay.'

I rose with stately dignity from the bed and with a look of great fatherliness and agape; arms outstretched in welcome,

I approached Miss T.

`No,' she said and held up one arm limply.

I never hesitated, but embraced her fully and fatherly, stroking her hair with one hand and her back with the other.

`My sweet child you are my salvation. Had I sinned with a prostitute I would be forever damned; the woman would

have been acting selfishly and I would have been a cause of her sin. But sexual congress with a Catholic girl giving

herself against her will, and thus unselfishly, is to liberate you from sin and me from corruption.'

She stood stiffly and unyielding in my loose embrace. Then, she began crying.

`I don't believe you're a priest, I want to go home.'

She huddled and sobbed against my upper belly.

`In domine Pater incubus dolorarum; et filia spiritu grandus magnum est. Non solere sanctum raro punctilios insularum, noncuninglingus variorum delictim. Habere est cogitare.'

She looked up at me.

`But why are you here?'

`Manes Patri, manes Patri. For you, my child, that we may come together in a love spiritus delicti et corpus boner.'

`You're so strange,' she said.

`This is a sacred moment. Go, and come.'

When she came out of the bathroom a second time two minutes later she was modestly holding a towel against her belly, but exposing two cheerful, round little pink breasts.

I threw back the covers on her side and she hopped in, a ten year-old child hopping into bed with her teddy bears.

Terry Tracy fulfilled her spiritual duties, my friends, with admirable warmth, poise, obedience and skill: Too much skill. When I had difficulty penetrating her at first, I encouraged her to baptize the uncircumcised child with the sacred water of her mouth and this she proceeded to do so devotedly that it was some several minutes before I recalled my central quest. By that time I was too spiritually primed to exert any pressure without the likelihood of my achieving immediate and complete divine grace. She sympathetically consoled me with her hands and then lowered her sacred mouth over the trembling child, bathing it: she spoke in tongues. I was groaning with total incoherence and indignity as one gets during such emotional services when I felt the Holy Spirit ascending. I tried to withdraw the uncircumcised child from the holy temple and whispered `Stop!' but the angel did not cease her ministrations. The nebulae, the child and I all exploded at once in a divine fusion of feeling: I plunged away in her mouth. After ten or fifteen seconds during which I was completely out of the mere world of mortal men, I returned from my spiritual journey.

Her mouth and hands were still warmly engulfing my penis and balls as if nothing had happened. I lay still for another half-minute and then putting a hand on Terry's hand I said 'Terry.'

She raised her head from me for the first time in three or four minutes, but without even turning to me she swung her behind around much nearer me and said Touch me: Oh please touch me.'

When I put my hands between her legs and began to stroke and poke, she pressed back fiercely. This time I slid a finger inside the appropriate and proper opening. Her mouth was trying to swallow a relatively relaxed and thoroughly baptized member. She rolled over and for the first time made a groan. Of sorts: it sounded distinctly like one of disappointment.