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Gird Your Loins: Rocky And Andy, Apostles Of The Lord
Gird Your Loins: Rocky And Andy, Apostles Of The Lord
Gird Your Loins: Rocky And Andy, Apostles Of The Lord
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Gird Your Loins: Rocky And Andy, Apostles Of The Lord

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What the apostles did when they were not in The Bible. They must have done some things; they could have done some things; they should have done some things; and they should not have done some thinAere not always saints you know.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateMar 24, 2013
ISBN9781626754027
Gird Your Loins: Rocky And Andy, Apostles Of The Lord

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    Gird Your Loins - James M. Stanley

    9781626754027

    GIRD YOUR LOINS

    I lay awake in the cool of the pre-dawn hours thinking about things. The cock crowed. A ghostly blue light permeated the room. The morning birds flooded the air with their robust little songs. The nets! I must get the nets!

    Then I smelled the cedar and smiled. Sarah and I were in the special room, a separate little house, actually. It was my last day of vacation. So we all stopped the itinerant preacher business and went our separate ways for a while.

    For me, that meant six days of back breaking labor helping old John, my dad, with the fishing business again. But even he relented and gave me the final morning off, with a wink and a grin. Then Sarah said we sleep in the special room, the one usually reserved for newlyweds.

    Oh, I said, always ready to co-operate with Sarah in her perpetual pursuit of parenthood, which seems to have eluded us these many years.

    We did the right thing and I went to sleep, exhausted from the multiple labors of the day. And that was that, or so I thought.

    This morning seemed special, holy, pregnant with possibilities. I looked over to Sarah’s shadowy sleeping form and smiled. Well, why not? I applied what us guys jokingly called, fisherman’s foreplay. I touched her shoulder and whispered, Honey, you awake?

    I am now, you big lunk, she answered in mock irritation for she was merely waiting for me to wake up. She opened her nightclothes and I opened mine.

    Then: Wham!

    I still do not know what hit me. She was like ten tornadoes. A few touches and we were both gasping. Her large boned muscular body gleamed with sweat. Her eyes, green and brown and ringed with gold, flashed fire. Her high cheek bones and olive complexion glowed in the morning light.

    I rolled over on top of her and entered her wet, warm love-tunnel as gently as I could, but she grasped me savagely by the buttocks and shoved me in. I exploded volcanically and she kept shoving me in. I did not wither.

    She flipped me like a Greek wrestler and rolled over on top and rode me like a prize stallion, her full breasts glistening in the morning sun. Her teeth shone in a wild grin. Her long raven hair flew every which way.

    Then she rippled and shivered and clamped both hands over her mouth to stifle her wild screams. She flashed red all over so intensely for a minute that I thought she might be having a heart attack. After that, she collapsed on top of me. Is she alive? I thought.

    Her rapid breathing assured me she was, as her deep blush bled into the morning sky. She seemed to be in some kind of coma.

    As for me, I ascertained I would live as well. Though totally exhausted, I never felt better in my life

    Afterwards, I lay gasping, wondering if I could ever move again.

    Her eyes suddenly popped open. She grinned. Time for breakfast! Then she jumped up and bustled over to the kitchen area. As the domestic noises, the clang of pots and the bubbling of liquids ensued, I tried to get up. I was paralyzed! Every single muscle of my body was totally limp. I smiled. Some day, when all my relatives are dead, I will write about this.

    Although modest in public, we Jews are not shy about sex. It is simply that no one would believe me if I told them. Where did all that come from?

    Ever so slowly, with the enveloping scent of cedar, my ability to move returned. I would never smell cedar again without thinking of this morning. I will plant cedars up and down the whole of Judea.

    I wrapped my robe around me and shuffled to the living area. I had to go sideways through the doorway. Though not overly tall I was about twice as wide as a regular person, which is one reason I loved the out-of-doors.

    She sat at the edge of our little eating mat made of reeds. I sat just around the corner from her. The low table you may have read about was just for rich people who consorted with Romans. We poor folks ate like the Jews and Greeks have for centuries. Hard workers like us usually could not recline without falling asleep.

    She had made a little feast. I am used to some bread and cheese and a piece of left over fruit, but this time we had roasted eggs, pomegranate juice, pecans, and raisins. Everything was seasoned with spices, cinnamon and curry from who knows where.

    Eggs for breakfast? I commented. I could get used to this. Usually we had to wait until Passover for eggs when the chickens started laying again.

    We should have something like this on our outing.

    Don’t bother, she said, with dimples and a grin. You guys can’t cook beans. You’ll probably have to eat soup made from tree bark and dirt.

    I can start a fire with two sticks, I said

    Is that how you burned your hand? she asked in all mock innocence.

    I shut up.

    I was looking forward to the camp-out with The Master, but I had to admit the cooking might leave something to be desired. As a matter of fact, I do not recall that any of us actually did any real cooking. We were always being invited to stay over at people’s places. Bart roasted a couple of rabbits once, but they were all black on the outside and no one would eat them.

    So we had been practicing starting fires and boiling water, digging up roots and making melted cheese roll-ups with flat bread; simple stuff.

    While I ate my gaze rested on my wife and lover, so different this morning, so vital and aggressive. I could get used to that, if I survived.

    So… I said, not knowing where to start.

    So? she inquired.

    Ya, well, where did all that come from?

    Goldie cooked most of it. I just warmed it up this morning. She answered, speaking about her mother.

    I choked on my toast. The inappropriate associations were instantly banished. But it was too late. Sarah grinned like a cat. She had done that on purpose.

    What I mean is, I plowed on, Is all THAT I gestured towards the bedroom.

    Didn’t you like it? I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. She teased.

    Oh, yes well, of course I liked it. I’m just kind of wondering how you learned to do all that? It’s like nothing we’ve ever done before.

    Yes, and nothing we’ve ever done before has worked, has it? She said quietly, with eyes cast down. Our childlessness stood between us like a physical being. She looked like she was about to cry.

    Don’t do that! I said, afraid to ruin our morning together. I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.

    We were breaking all kinds of rules here, setting precedents. Guys could talk to guys about sex, and gals could talk to gals; but husband and wife usually just did it. What was to talk about? You enjoyed yourselves. You made babies. Then you worked like hell the rest of your life to support them. Except for us; we worked like hell for nothing.

    She continued to look down and mumbled something.

    What did you say?

    I said that the caravans bring more than spices.

    What then?

    Secrets.

    And she would say no more.

    Oh, I said, getting the gist of it.

    There were always old oriental guys at the market place hawking love secrets. I guess some of them were legit.

    She looked up and our eyes locked. Hers went all gold and green, like two foreign gems. My breath caught. Her robe fell open revealing the warm skin over her heart. Mine started beating faster. She leaned towards me, lips parted. My hand reached up to stroke her face.

    ROCKEE!!!

    My kid brother’s shouting shattered the morning air. We pulled back quickly, pulling our clothes together. Andy’s head poked through the window.

    "Hi guys, you got anything left to eat?

    I swear, sometimes I think Andy is nothing but an appetite with a thin layer of person wrapped around it.

    Sarah mumbled some holy words in an inappropriate way. Then she flashed Andy her widest smile. She loved Andy. You just had to love Andy. I continued to reach out both hands as if I were stretching.

    C’mon in bro’, I beckoned to him. I think we have some of Sarah’s roast eggs left.

    "Eggs? For breakfast? Yum. You guys sure know how to live!’

    And he let himself in through the stout wooden door and sat with us by the mat. As he started inhaling leftovers, goat cheese, raisins, eggs, bread, and milk we attempted to converse with him.

    Have you found a girl yet, Andy? Sarah asked warmly. We were all openly concerned about Andy’s lack of mate. By now a good Jewish boy should be settled down with kids.

    Andy had spent most of his young adulthood chasing around prophets and messiahs. You do not meet many women this way. As luck would have it though, we all think he finally found the real thing, our old friend Jess had come out as a great rabbi, The Master, and now we all followed Him even though we were not sure who He was anymore. The Son of God, sure, but what does that mean? What stuff was He made of? Although we admired Him greatly and loved Him more, we all studied Him constantly looking for clues.

    Andy was no worse for the experience, lean and tall, brown with whipcord muscles, voluminous curly dark hair, alert and talkative. He was always eager and happy. I thought of him as a huge puppy.

    Sarah waited for his answer. His mouth was so full. What made her a great conversationalist is she truly listened. Andy finally cleared his throat and said, Nope.

    We’ll be traveling. Maybe I’ll meet someone then. A lot of women follow The Master around. Maybe when one realizes she can’t get Him she’ll settle for me.

    Sarah smiled at me quizzically. I shrugged. Actually Andy’s viewpoint made a lot of sense.

    So, Sarah continued, Where are you all headed off to? Andy and I looked at each other. I nodded in his direction.

    He said, We don’t know exactly. The Master said the desert. We meet at Ephraim. That’s all we know.

    It sounds grim, she

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