It's been 20 years since I returned from my mission, and I'm just now starting to write down some of my experiences: http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,407018

I've always found great joy in irreverence -- before I left on my mission my two favorite comedic films were Monty Python's The Life of Brian and A Fish Called Wanda. Two classic films I will never tire of seeing. Just another example of my life's incongruities while trying my derndest to be a TBM, I guess. I warned of mature content matter in the thread title -- you've now been doubly warned (though from what I can see in my short time on this forum irreverence is not a frowned upon character trait. The horror!)

In the Dominican Republic it was common practice for women to breastfeed in their homes in the company of guests, while feeling no compulsion to cover up during any part of the process. You can image the distraction this proved to be for young men actively engaged in suppressing any sexual thoughts or desires while focusing on missionary work! It was one thing for cute girls/young women/pushing the upper boundaries of milfdom women to pepper you with lewd comments in the streets as you walked by (not uncommon), but quite another thing to have an honest to god bare tit whipped out right in front of your physical eyes! And of course these were not just your run of the mill breasts, these were "My breasts are so enormously swollen with milk right now that if I don't pop one out right now and let a little cream off I might just explode!" breasts.

You can imagine the physical reaction this induced to all but the most steely minded/grandma thinking/baseball loving Elders. Yes, in such scenarios, Little Richard thought it was time to take the stage and let out a "Wheeeeewwwiiiieeee!" There was at least one occasion when a "Where are you hiding the triplets for the amount of milk you look capable of producing" young mother just sat there, after the baby was done, not bothering to cover up, looking at me with a "Do you like what you see?" look on her face. I was trying my hardest to not like what I was seeing, but Little Richard had a mind of his own.

Countermeasures were needed. Countermeasure number 1: before leaving the house in the morning, a jock strap was donned beneath the garms in an effort to hold back the protestor at the gate. When countermeasure number 1 failed to provide proficient suppression, countermeasure number 2 was called upon: The Word of the Lord. Placed Directly on Top of the Wood of the Lord's Servant. All 4 books of scripture, placed firmly on the center of the lap. "Elder, would you care to look up such and such verse from such and such book?" "No, I think I can recount the gist of it."

And of course, if the longer Little Richard lingered longer than the lingering, more lingering was required until the earth was flat enough again for missionary work to resume along the beaten paths of the Dominican Republic.

The crude countermeasures worked as needed, and nothing wrong ever...err, came, as a result of utilizing them. There was one Elder in our mission though, who was reportedly fond of finishing Little Richard's business, instead of the Lord's business, right in the middle of sit down discussions in people's homes. Tit for...That, I guess. After carjacking the zone leader's sedan and taking a self-guided tour through the beautiful locales of the Dominican Republic for several days, he was somehow eventually hauled in and shipped to a stateside mission, which I guess is the land where all impure thoughts and actions go to die.

Japan late 70s.. the famous public baths that many of us used daily depending upon the bathroom facilities in our apartments. Usually the public bath was ran by a little grandma.. who did nothing to excite a 19 year old young man.. but at three different times on my mission , I remember well a very cute, young lady, who was in charge of taking your money and watched as you undressed totally nude to enter the bath.

Oh.. what fun it was . being naked in front of the hot young japanese girl. And little Kyle enjoyed it too.. lol.

. I'll never forget the slightly embarrassed grin on her face. )))

Hakodate, Japan, early 80s, similar situation. The only difference was that the woman at the entry throne was the totally milftastic, late 20s wife of one of my favorite investigators. He or his mother in law would usually occupy the throne, but one night there she was, grinning as she took our entry fee.

It only happened once. I thought about it often.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 02/03/2012 10:43PM by jaredsotherbrother.

LMAO--that's priceless!

I know a guy who served in Haiti who said they had to politely decline requests from the Young Women members to help them with their bathing requirements. They were just being good hosts, apparently.

Bathing requirements?

Outside cold shower... or they could boil a kettle I guess. I don't think they were offering to rub them down and lather the soap. Still, it's a nice image.

So close, yet so far away in the Dominican Republic! I guess our maids, typically females ranging in age from 20 to 40, might have helped us with our bathing requirements. They were already serviced with the task of scrubbing out our nocturnal emissions. They would've probably preferred preventitive servicing to the clean up variety, lol.

20 years ago in the DR? We must have been there at about the same time. For me it was Santo Domingo (west)

OMG!!! - that is hilarious and made me spew my margarita all over my keyboard. I luvs this shit!

Kewl -- as long as it was just your margarita!

ROTFL

All my horny experiences happened in Hakodate.

My comp and I were working doors in a bar heavy West Village-y section of town. I knocked on the door of a fairly dilapidated 3 or 4 story walk-up and the hottest woman I'd ever seen opened the door. She wasn't wearing anything especially revealing but was so beautifu my fineyoungfellow immediately took notice. I was pretty well tongue tied, but somehow managed to ask if her husband was home, and could we have a few minutes of their time. She chuckled throatily (instead of giggling prettily like most young Japanese women) and informed me that she was all alone, and although she was leaving for work soon, she'd love to have us back. Thank Elohim it was the rainy season, because as soon as she emitted that chuckle, my John Thomas immediately became my Jonathan Aloycious Thomas. Senior.

(Brief paranthetical aside. Wouldn't it make sense for the brethren to have designed a special missionary fit of garments, like something with a bit more support and restraint to bind the tools of those young hormone factories?)

We made an appointment for later on that week, and I tried to forget about her. My nocturnal emmissions may have been a bit more frequent that week.

We returned at the appointed time and, sure enough, as soon as she opened the door I was at full attention. As she turned to lead us into the apartment, I was able to do a quick belt buckle tuck, which fortunately held until I was able to sit down. Luckily, my junior companion was Japanese and could carry the discussion, because the blood was not exactly pumping to my head. The appointment actually went pretty well and she agreed to another visit. My snapping turtle didn't withdraw his head until we were halfway down the block.

Unfortunately, I felt all guilty and passed her off to the district Sisters, but we did have one more appt. with Dreamgirl to introduce her to those Sishies. Once again, I was hard throughout the entire appointment. Afterwards, one of the Sishies (on whom, incidentally, I had a pre-existing crush) even joked about how hot dreamgirl was.

Oh, if I could do it all over again.

Wait -- you had a pre-existing crush on one of the mishies, or a pre-existence crush? lol

BTW, my name is not Richard. Richard is just the blessing name of, well, the nickname of Richard, the one who gets to do the baptizing by immersion. Plus, it's funny to picture the manic face of Little Richard down there in the nether regions when action is imminent.

Couldn't have been pre-existance because she was Japanese, and therefore not as valiant as my white and delightsome ass. We would have lived in entirely different neighborhoods.

We need another writer of wit. Raptor I and the other witty writers have been busy of late and we could use the extra "support." Welcome aboard Dick. My name is Jack. Jack Goff.

LOL @ "support." I plan on doing some more writing, if not on the every day pace I started out on (2 days of finished projects -- a personal best!)

Coincidentally, The Man in Black, we named our eldest son, who we induced on 6/6/6, after The Man in Black! That is, of course, if your name refers to Mr. Cash, hehe.

MIB--Yep, I've missed your stories and RJ's. You guys all have talent in writing! And I enjoyed jaredsotherbrother's story, too.

Since I talked a "boyfriend" into going on a mission at age 20--poor sucker--and we had a huge argument some 6 months into his mission. I just love reading the missionary stories. Keep them coming.

No pun intended. Rules in our mission (Switzerland) were for males to teach males and females to teach females, where possible. We heard stories about the Japan missions but you are giving proof of them for the first time (for me).

Thanks for posting. Always wondered.

I don't recall the particulars, but we had a similar rule. I believe we were allowed to teach an introductory lesson if we encountered a young single female encountered during door knocking, but if they continued, we were to turn them over to the Sisters. As horny as I was, I followed the rules fairly closely.

I even recall turning an old widow over to the Sisters, but that could just be that her toothless pronunciation was damn near unintelligable to me, and both sisters were native speakers.

Lmao! You guys reminded me of our house, back in the old days. Our missionaries were strictly instructed NOT to linger at our house after missionary meals, but our missionaries always stayed, occaisionally overnight, for marathon D&D tournaments with the 90s version of hippies, all summer long. They had no choice, since we were the only family to sign up for missionary meals on a regular basis.
We were definitely a house of ill-repute with 5 unfettered girls who routinely snuck into mishie apartments bearing gifts of Dr. Pepper, EMF & jimi hendrix cds, magazines and the contraband of all contrabands, letters from girls back home, conveniently mailed to our address!
We did get into trouble with an MP once, but our mother was able to convince him that she was running some kind of youth hostel, where our beloved elders were sure to scrape up at least a few converts. (of course that was totally unfounded, but he had no way of knowing that) Ah the good old days, when one could be an accomplice to such frivolity! :)
Good times...good times...

We had to use public transportation on my mish so it was the bus. The buses would get so full there were people hanging out the doors while they were zooming down the roads. Inside we were crammed like sardines. My first experience was in Santiago. My comp and I got on the bus as it began to fill up. A bunch of high school girls filed on after us and soon we were all standing front to back so tight there was no air space between anybody. I happened to be standing right behind a beautiful gal about 17 years old and I could smell her perfume and shampoo. Forget about personal space, she was pressed against me so close that I could feel every curve of her back.

All of a sudden I jumped like I had been shot! I am standing there trying to think pure thoughts, which was impossible, when I feel a hand grab Thor(my nickname for the little guy). Not only did she grab Thor she began massaging him. Oh my god I was freaking out. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move there were people on all sides of me and Thor was growing to the point that there was no way I was going to hide him when we got off the bus. I am standing there trying to breath slowly when she turned her head and looked at me and smiled coyly as she continued to do her thing. It was my bad luck that the ride was fairly long and before I could do anything Thor lost his load right there in my pants. Now I not only have to worry about the buldge but a huge wet spot as well.

God, that was the worst experience and the best experience I ever had on my mish. When the bus finally began to empty I hurriedly dropped my backpack down in front of me and exited as fast as I could. I had to tell my comp what had happened because we now had to return to our place so I could change. I had been there about 1 week and he had been there well over a year so when I told him he burst out laughing and he must have laughed all the way back to our place. I found out later that this type of thing happened all the time. The girls did this on purpose and they had bets all the time to see who could get the mishies to drop their load before the bus ride ended.

After that I made sure that I was not directly behind a female younger than 50 ever, and I made it through the rest of my mish without another experience like that one.

I did have the whole boob full out to breast feed only one time. She was a beautiful single mom living with her parents and her little girl was 3 years old running around the house talking and acting like a 3 year old. She went up to her mom and said "I'm hungry" so mom popped both boobs out and just let them hang there while we went on with the discussion. The little girl climbed up sucked for a little bit then went on playing. Mom left those gorgeous boobs hanging out there the whole time and the little girl would play then come back and suck a little bit then go back to playing. I was the senior companion at the time and I had to end the discussion early because I simply couldn't concentrate any more.

Man, women can have so much control over men!

Way to take one for the Lord, Rathernotsay, lol.

That reminded me of a time when we were teaching a young unmarried couple. They just needed to be married, as they were living together, before we could baptise them. A quick wedding was arranged, and on the night of there were about 6 or 7 of us who were going to attend. Somehow we all ended up in one taxi en route to the wedding, and somehow I ended up with the 20 something year old sister of the bride on my lap for the duration. The cab was blasting merengue music, and everyone was in a festive pre-wedding mood. The sister on my lap, being overcome with excitement, did a sit down merengue dance on my lap for the entire 10 minute ride. It took me a little longer than usual to fish the money out of my constricted front pants pocket to pay the driver. Everyone exited, and I must have sat there by myself in the backseat of the cab recounting the money half a dozen times to make sure the driver was the only one getting a good sized tip for the rest of the evening. I've refused to attend weddings without complimentary lapdances ever since.