First Time with a Catholic Boy

There's a great story about getting "intimate" with a nice Catholic boy here!

On Saturday night, after the Grand Concert, it was hot in our room, so Todd took off his undershirt, and I noticed a thin gold chain around his neck. When Todd climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chest, it stood out against his brown skin, gleaming like a fiery ring. On the front, against his collarbone, lay a small plate with what looked like a portrait of a man. 

“Is that a surfing symbol?” I asked, stupidly. 

“No,” Todd said in a dim lazy voice. “It’s a scapular. . .like a medal.” 

“Oh. . .what did you win?”

“No, it’s a religious symbol.” He carefully pulled the plate up from his chest. “See, the Sacred Heart on one side, Mary Mother of God on the other.” 

With a shudder I realized that Todd was talking about being a Catholic. “I thought you were a Christian!” 

“I am,” Todd said defensively. “Maronite Catholic. But I go to St. Pius." 

Nazarene preachers told us to never go near a Catholic church, or we would be dragged inside to an unspeakable fate, and never talk to a Catholic, or we would be brainwashed into worshipping idols and drinking blood. 

I chided himself for my irrational fear. I had been friends with Frank, a Catholic boy, for two years! Catholics weren't monsters and demons. Sometimes they were perfectly nice. 

And what else had I heard about Catholics: "They have no morals, they're up for anything. If you want a good time, call a Catholic." 

I stared at the scapular, and at Todd’s neck, golden in the brash light of our dorm lamp, with two moles close together on the left side like a vampire bite. 

Finally I said, “I’ve never. . .seen a scapular before. Can I touch it?”

“Sure.” But instead of taking it off, Todd motioned for me to come closer. 

I got up, wearing only cotton briefs, and sat on Todd’s bed. Todd’s body was hot, and soft yet firm. I touched the scapular. Then slowly I moved my hand down and stroked Todd's chest. He moaned and closed his eyes. 

After some other things happened, Todd refused to kiss or cuddle, so I returned to my own bed. 

When I awoke, Todd was already gone. I dressed quickly and wandered around the campus for a long time, looking for him, but I didn't see him again. After breakfast Dad arrived to drive me home.

It's a real eye-opener that anti-Catholic bigotry doesn't really change a whole lot over time.