Bible Study

Pastor Bud Pearson was driving home on a fall Sunday evening. It had been a long day at the Church of Jesus Alive! and after the evening celebration he was worn out. When the music was playing and people clapping, adrenaline drove him but when everyone left, the cork came out and he felt drained. There was a price to be paid for someone approaching their 60th year preaching two forty five minute, high energy Sunday services, one morning and one evening.

He looked forward to reaching his mountain cabin near Aliquippa, Pennsylvania. The fire was already laid in his simple dwelling where he lived as close to nature as he could. He had a generator for a refrigerator, a space heater, a hot water heater and a stove, but he preferred the cheery glow and pungent aroma of a fire roaring in his fireplace. There were two rooms in his cabin: a small room for a shower, commode, and sink, and a larger room for everything else. It had always been his dream to live in a log cabin, and since his wife Joan died 5 years earlier, the solitude suited him.

His iPhone buzzed as he turned off the blacktop into his long, winding driveway. A glance told him it was his niece, Joanie Harris, a student at Aliquippa Bible College. "Hello?"

"Hi, Uncle Bud. How's it going?"

"Tired, Joanie, tired. Sundays take a lot out of an old preacher."

"You're not that old, Uncle Bud, you got a lot of life left in you. I need some help with the Scripture study, and you are the best. My friends and I are wrestling with a tough passage and can't work it out. You got some time?"

"Don't tell me, let me guess: you needed this yesterday, right?"

"Well, the papers were due Friday but we were able to get an extension to Tuesday."

"I see, you batted your eyelids and told Dr. Silvester you spent a lot of time leading Bible study and witness meetings at the juvenile center. So I guess you want me to help you and your friends tonight."

"Yeah. Here's the deal: we'll come out to your place, bringing a large pizza with all your favorite toppings, pepperoni, mushrooms, and goat cheese, and we'll stick around to do some chores for you tomorrow morning before we go back. You always need firewood chopped, right?"

"You know it. And where do you and your friends plan to sleep?"

"We'll bring our sleeping bags. You know I love to camp out in cool weather, and my friends are willing to try it in exchange for some help."

"Okay, okay, I guess I can't say no to my favorite niece. Come on up."

"Thanks Uncle Bud. Love ya, see ya."

He shook his head and sighed as his car wound its way up the long gravel road. "What do you ask of me, Lord?" It had been a long time since he'd eaten and the pizza would be welcome. It would take her 45 minutes to make her way up, so he could catch a quick nap before they got there.

The cabin was set in the woods two thirds of the way up an Appalachian ridge, a one-story log cabin with a large porch and brown shingle roof. A natural stone chimney rose on the near side of the cabin. His headlights picked up many turning leaves as he pulled up, and when he shut the lights off thousands of stars peeked through the break in the forest canopy over his dwelling.

He started his fire with a single match. After a quick shower, he put his favorite nightshirt that reached past his knees over his jeans and donned huge, woolly socks. Looking in his refrigerator, he found a bottle of Summer Shandy, one of his favorite brews and few guilty pleasures, and sat on his bed. Two quick sips were enough to send him to dreamland.

Pounding on the door woke him up. "Uncle Bud, Uncle Bud, are you there?"

"Yeah, honey. Hang on." He swung his legs off the bed and opened the door. His niece Joanie was holding two large pizza boxes with two of her friends behind her.

"It may be a long night and my girls like to eat. By the way, this is Leslie Cooper and Frieda Roberts. They're working with me on this paper about Genesis." They came in and crossed the room, putting the pizza boxes down on top of several papers Bud kept on the table. "Is that a beer, Uncle Bud?"

He watched as they took off their coats, revealing longsleeved white blouses, knee length brown skirts, hose and penny loafers. They were attractive but very demure, their physical attributes well concealed. Folding their coats neatly, they laid them on the bed. "Cast your bread upon the waters," Bud said.

The girls looked puzzled. "What do you mean by that?" Joanie said.

"Ecclesiastes 11:1. That's how they made beer in ancient times, with bread and water. The Egyptians used to pay the workers who built the Pyramids in beer. Drinking beer was like eating bread, so it's okay." They digested that been for a couple of moments, then shrugged their shoulders. "Would you like one? I've got more in the fridge."

They smiled, and Joanie got three cans of Yuengling from his refrigerator. Opening the boxes, the aroma of pizza filled the little cabin and they settled down to eat: Leslie and Frieda on the two chairs at his table, and Bud sat next to his niece on the bed. "How was church today?" Joanie asked.

"The Spirit was moving. We had 20 new enrollments, and seven people came up for baptism at the Altar Call. Jason was rocking, as usual. Lots of good energy from the crowd during the messages, morning and evening."

The girls clapped. Freda said: "You've got the greatest church in Aliquippa, Pastor Bud. All the profs at Aliquippa Bible College are jealous of you. They all wish they could bring it like you do."

"That's right," Leslie chimed in. "We're really blessed to have such a great preacher like you around." Frieda nodded enthusiastically.

"We've sucked up enough, girls." Joanie put her arm around her uncle's shoulders. "Now the topic of our paper: Genesis 38."

"Did you choose Tamar as your subject, or your teacher?" he asked between bites.

"We did," the girl said together. "There's a lot we don't understand about her," Frieda continued. "She seemed to behave very immorally and yet she was rewarded. There's a lot going on here we don't understand."

Bud shook his head. "And your Bible study hasn't turned up anything yet?"

"Nope." He knew they hadn't done much, and took a moment to reflect silently on their work ethic. Beautiful young women with sapphire blue eyes could get away with more than ordinary students, even in a Bible school.

They ate their pizza for a few moments in silence, taking sips of beer. Bud finished his slice first and went into lecture mode: "Childlessness was thought to be a curse in biblical times, particularly for a woman. When people grew old there was no one to take care of them unless they had children. Since God killed Judah's older sons, it wasn't Tamar's fault she had no one, and it was the family's duty to give her one. Judah was responsible because he procured her for his son; he was committed to taking care of her."

"So the old man wasn't doing his duty. What a jerk." Leslie said.

Frieda nodded in agreement. "Typical."

"I don't understand why he didn't recognize her when she was pretending to be a prostitute," Joanie added. "I mean certainly her eyes or the shape of her body would have given her away."

"Judah wouldn't have been in contact with her a lot." Bud continued. "From the way the story is told they weren't living in the same tent, and needed others to find out what the other was doing. Also, from the time her first husband died Tamar would have dressed in black garments that covered everything except her face. The old man would never have seen her hair uncovered."

Frieda pursed her lips. "For a righteous man, Judah did quite a few strange things. Not only did he deny his youngest son to her, but he went to a prostitute who was probably working for a pagan temple. Which was forbidden." Bud nodded his head in agreement. She continued: "He gave her some pretty key things, things no honest man would part with, in order to have sex with him. It would be like a musician pawning their instrument to get money to buy drugs. So he's not a good guy in this story, thinking with his, his, his p-p-penis."

"You're right, Frieda," Bud said. "Tamar knew what she was doing every step of the way. She needed proof Judah fathered her child in order to keep from being stoned for adultery. God blessed her by giving her not one son but two."

"Couldn't she have waited? Surely it would've been better if she'd done what was right and waited for Shelah?" Leslie said. She crossed her legs and started kicking her foot in the air nervously.

"Work it out how old Tamar was. In that culture, women were married around the age of 13. It's not said how long she was married to Er, but it could've been several years. After Onan's sin and death, she had to wait for the youngest son to grow up, we don't know how long that was, could have been a decade or more. It's harder for women to conceive the first time as they get older: they knew it in ancient times. You could say she heard her biological clock ticking. Since Shelah hadn't been given to her when he came of age, it probably wasn't going to happen. Obviously, God doesn't make us wait for the impossible, but asks us to do what's needed to accomplish His Will."

"What about Onan's sin?" Joanie asked. "Isn't that proof God hates birth control?"

"Not necessarily. The sin was not giving Tamar a child when she deserved one. Pushing it beyond that is questionable; you can make that argument, but this passage isn't conclusive proof. God commanded us to be fruitful and multiply, He didn't specify how much. He also didn't say we can't use our minds."

The girls thought for a few minutes as they finished their pizza and beer. With a nod, Bud gave them permission to have another brew while he finished a couple of slices of his pie, then drained his beer and got another. The fire burned merrily, warming the room, and the girls unbuttoned the sleeves and top buttons of their blouses. Finishing beer #2, Joanie pulled her third from the refrigerator and her friends nodded, seeking another as well.

"Do you think she enjoyed it?" Leslie said quietly, wistfully.

"Enjoyed what?" Frieda asked.

"Sex. Did Tamar enjoy having sex with Judah?"

Joanie giggled. "I hope so. Why not? She was pretending to be a harlot. Might be fun. There's nothing in the Bible that says you shouldn't enjoy sex."

"It makes sense," Leslie said reflectively. "I'm sure that's why God made it to be fun. Who wants to be fruitful and multiply if it's going to be a lot of hard work?"

Bud nodded. "That makes sense to me. A lot of things Bible has to say about sex are about forbidding harmful relationships."

"You know, all the women in Matthew's genealogy of Jesus have something wrong with them," Frieda said. "Rahab the prostitute of Jericho is there, so is Bathsheba, Uriah's wife. Then there is Ruth, who came from Moab. There's something I read about in a commentary I'd like to ask you about Pastor Bud."

"Yes?"

"Did Ruth really give Boaz a blow job?" The other girls gasped at Freda's question, but Bud kept his cool. "The phrase 'uncover his feet' meant exposing his penis, didn't it?"

Pastor Bud stroked his chin and took a pull from his bottle as he thought about it. Joanie bounced on the bed a little, and said very loudly: "That's a disputed question. I've seen commentaries say different things about what that phrase means. It's a good question, and I guess it makes sense if a woman wants to convince a man to do something for her, but whether the Torah says anything specific about it I'm not sure."

Leslie snickered. "Well, Jesus never said 'Don't suck cock!' After all, if the Bible doesn't forbid something, it should be all right, shouldn't it?"

"Well, you can say that—hey, let me ask something. Do any of you have experience with this?" Pastor Bud asked. "It's different talking about something from experience than an abstract idea."

They shook their heads no. "My boyfriend wanted me to do that couple months ago, and I told him that righteous women don't do that kind of thing," Frieda huffed. "Only cheap women do things like that." Leslie noted her head in agreement while Joanie looked uncertain. She continued: "But I was reading an article the other day that said the 'Dew of Heaven' was a euphemism for semen, and I guess if Ruth really did this to Boaz and God blessed her, it should be all right. Does that make sense?"

"I've looked through the Bible several times," Leslie said, "and there's nothing in particular about giving somebody a hand job or a blow job."

Joanie frowned. "This sounds like rationalization to me. What do you think, Uncle Bud?"

Pastor Bud took another sip of beer, and took his time before responding. "Girls, I don't think we'll ever really know what Ruth did with Boaz during the night they spent on the threshing floor. They weren't alone for certain, however in many cultures were people sleep in common they will ignore sexual activity around them, respecting privacy. Leslie is right: the only sexual practice that's forbidden in the Bible is sodomy, and even that term isn't well-defined."

"You said something about speaking from experience," Joanie said. "Maybe we should get some."

"I really can't advise you on that. Work out how to get your experience on your own, girls." Pastor Bud took another bite of pizza and chewed it slowly. He was glad that the girls probably couldn't see him blush in the firelight. Their faces were glowing both from the lighting and from a sheen of sweat on their faces.

He was suddenly aware that his guests were attractive young women in their early 20s. Joanie had her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail: her elvish features got her into several beauty pageants. Leslie's hair was cut short, a brunette whose strong nose and slightly dark skin testified to Mediterranean genes. With light skin and freckles, Frieda wore her red hair in long, frizzy curls, and her thick, perfectly round eyeglasses gave her a nerdy look. They had all finished their Bachelor's degrees before starting Aliquippa Bible College, but he knew they had led a sheltered existence conforming to a strict code of behavior. Part of him wanted to take advantage of their ignorance, but he hesitated.

There was a strange glow in Joanie's eyes as he saw her looking at him, while Frieda and Leslie seemed to be avoiding his glance. Joanie took another long sip of her beer. "Uncle Bud, I think we need to try out what Ruth did to Boaz for ourselves. We wouldn't be doing anything wrong according to the Bible, won't we? And it'll help us with our paper."

Frieda made a face and took another sip from her beer. "Sounds fair to me. Pastor Bud's a good man who'll keep our reputations safe. Not like he's gonna brag to his buddies. What do you think, Leslie?" Leslie shrugged her shoulders. "Let's uncover Pastor Bud's feet."

Before he knew what was happening, Joanie was pulling off his trousers. The other girls came over to stand beside the bed. Pastor Bud objected: "What about Leviticus 18:7? 'You shall not uncover the nakedness of your father?' I'm not sure about this."

"We're not taking your shirt off, so you're not naked," Joanie chirped, a devilish look on her face. "You married my dad's sister, so you aren't a blood relative. You've always helped me with Bible stuff. I'm called to preach, I need to know about this. So just lie there and help us."

After getting his trousers off, they gingerly lifted the bottom of his nightshirt, revealing his manhood. "Wow, that's really what it looks like?" Frieda said.

Leslie punched her shoulder. "Didn't you take Health in High School? Oh wait a minute, you lost your Dad when you were a baby and you've only got sisters. I'm sorry, dear. I've got five brothers and I'm a farm girl. Don't be afraid, it won't hurt you." They pulled the garment up to his ribcage and sat there looking at it with big eyes.

Joanie held it up gently by the tip. He was uncircumcised and it took her a minute to figure out how to pull back the foreskin. A little dampness reflected in the firelight, and she played with it with her finger. Grasping it softly, she began to move up and down the shaft. "Is there anything I can do?" Leslie asked.

"You can cup his balls, tickle them a little bit, stroke them. I've heard guys like this."

Joanie sat on the bed next to Pastor Bud on one side, and Leslie sat on the other. Frieda walked to the far end of the bed, silhouetted by the fire, her eyes huge as she paid close attention to how her friends pleased him. Pastor Bud began to give in to the sensations, and started getting excited. "Oh look, it's growing," Frieda said, "how big is it going to get?"

"I don't know," Joanie responded. "I've only seen this done once on a video. Kirby showed me something he downloaded from the Internet. I guess he wanted me to do this to him, but he was an idiot. Glad I dumped him." She kept stroking him, and the girls gasped as his cock doubled in size. "Wow, this is great. Never knew this was part of it. Why don't you try it?"

Leslie moved her hand and traded places with her friend. After a stroke or two, she lifted her hand to lick clear liquid from it. "It doesn't taste like anything. I thought it would be awful. You know, Frieda, you can be too much of a prude. Maybe you should've tried it."

"Maybe you should," Frieda sneered. Leslie sneered back and stroked him some more, using his natural lubrication as Joanie tickled his testicles. When she got tired, Frieda took her place. "Doesn't feel like anything I've touched before. Silky but firm. Little slick and slippery. This is fun." Joanie got up to give her friend more room, and Leslie stuck her tongue out to lick his balls.

Pastor Bud couldn't believe what was happening. "Lord, give me patience," he murmured, "that feels so nice!"

"This study session was my idea," Joanie said, "I'm going to try it first." Bending over she kissed the glistening skin, rubbing her lips on the shaft a few times before taking the head into her mouth. Pastor Bud groaned, and the other girls bent over to watch what their friend was doing up close.

"Be careful about your teeth," Pastor Bud whispered. "That's good, use your tongue a little more and it'll be great." Leslie played with his balls absentmindedly and Frieda put her hand on his thigh. Joanie closed her eyes and sucked several minutes before coming up for air. She took a deep breath and smiled; Leslie bent over and took her place.

"How's the taste?" Frieda asked.

"Pretty tasteless," Joanie said, licking her lips. "Maybe a hint of cinnamon. I know Uncle Bud goes to Fred Turner's bakery every morning for cinnamon rolls, that's it. I could get used to it."

Frieda looked down and thought before turning to watch Leslie in action. Leslie moved the cock in her mouth from side to side, working on different spots and finding new sensitivity. Pastor Bud closed his eyes and seemed to be in another dimension. Joanie asked: "Did Aunt Jane do this for you?" He was not able to answer.

Leslie stood up and took a deep breath. Joanie's hand returned to pump his shaft, and Frieda began moving up his thigh to play with his orbs. "I see what you mean by cinnamon. A faint hint, but there. Kind of nice, I like it."

Joanie and Leslie looked down to see Frieda had already engulfed him totally. She surfaced after a couple of strokes and said: "I can't believe how wonderful this is. I'm tingling all over. The flavor is fantastic." Hungrily, she took the end in her mouth and started sucking hard.

Pastor Bud groaned again and murmured: "If you keep doing that you'll get a whole mouthful of fantastic." Freda's curls did a wild, chaotic dance as her head bobbed and hungry moans came from the depths of her throat. Joanie reached out to play with his balls while Leslie reached under his nightshirt to stroke his chest. It seemed to take forever, but in a few minutes he convulsed on the bed in ecstasy while Frieda struggled to keep all the cascading fluid in her mouth. Streams of opaque liquid dribbled down his legs, which Joanie and Leslie licked up.