Betty, Bill and Richard 29 (Parents with surprises) Teen bisex M-M-F July, 2020
My name is Richard. Betty and Bill are my friends.
The summer of our fifteenth year we had done most of what we knew that three people could do with each other two weeks after school was out. The week before Pride we were just trying to rotate between handjobs, oral sex, anal and vaginal while making sure that each of us got off once a day. Other than face painting and listening to stories, Betty had left pride with a dildo harness and an old book of gay sex positions. After Pride, we experimented with new things including pegging, frottage and rimming.
We were spending summer weekends with our parents, which generally meant staying around the house. Saturday two weeks after Pride (or a day after I rimmed Betty), my Mom told me that we were going to a PFlag meeting after lunch. It sounded famliar but I wasn't sure what that was.
After lunch I made sure I was put together enough to meet strangers. Long pants and a polo shirt. My Birkenstocks were by the door.
I asked my Mom what PFlag was. "Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays". For some reason that made me put on an anklet. As if somebody having sex with Betty and Bill would ever have to cruise.
We went to this meeting, in the fellowship hall of a church I'd never been inside of. There were about fifteen people there, roughly ten parents and five "children" of these parents, one boy that looked younger than me, a couple of girls close to my age, and one guy in his thirties; his parents might have been about fifty-five years old. The fifth "child" was me.
Each parent did a brief introduction. The ones with gay kids present called us out, and each of us waved when introduced. The parent's stories sounded pretty much the same, except some knew their kids were gay when the kid was little and some were startled when their kids came out to them.
I was interested to hear that my parents were pretty sure I was bisexual before Betty, Bill and I were actually doing anything beyond skinny dipping.
I was glad that these kinds of meetings were happening but didn't see what I was going to get out of it.
Dad suggested pizza, Mom and I agreed, and I ate out with my parents for the first time in months.
Sunday morning I was up around seven and showered early, maybe because I heard my parents up and about. I was mostly thinking about my first dance class with Bill and Betty on Tuesday and swim team starting up next weekend.
When I saw my Mom she was dressed really nice.
"You're showered?", she asked.
"Yep." I answered.
"Get dressed. We're going to church. You're in for a pleasant surprise!"
I quietly thought to myself, "What now!", but I used deodorant and dressed pretty much the same as I had for the PFlag meeting except I skipped the anklet. Jesus wore sandals, so I hoped that they liked Birkenstocks at this church.
I had been in churches for weddings and funerals with my parents, and with other families when I was about five years old. This was the place where the PFlag meeting had been, but now I was in the sanctuary rather than the fellowship hall. The Bulletin and Hymnal were confusing to me, and appearantly there's an order for things and places where you're supposed to respond but it was way over my head. I was worried about how to handle communion, if they did it like the Catholics or something else, but that never happened.
Okay, enough about me being lost in a church. Let's talk about surprises. The priest was a woman, which I guess is normal but when you watch old movies it's still a new thing. There were readings from the Bible, different parts. A woman read the first one, an old man read the second one, and there was music and ceremony before the third reading, which the priest did. After she sat the Bible down, she asked us to sit, talked about the Gospel, which I guess is where that last reading came from, and in the middle of her sermon said two words I didn't expect to hear together from a woman in any church.
"My Wife."
I let out a soft gasp. My Mom heard it and hugged me. I listened closely to get the context; the priest was talking about a conversation she'd had in her back garden with her wife. This was an openly lesbian priest. I probably shed a tear. I leaned against my Mom, and just floated through the rest of the service.
Near the end, the Priest invited everyone to share in communion outside after the service. There was more music and a procession out the big doors. At this church, at least, communion meant coffee and red velvet cake.
My parents and I went to a crowded Denny's after church, for Second Communion, I guess.
After church we changed and I came down to the living room. I thought I'd watch TV with Dad, but he turned it off when he saw me. He turned and smiled at me, and said, "Hi."
"Hi." I responded, wondering what I'd done wrong. "You're starting swim team next weekend?", he asked. "Yes, and a dance class Tuesday." I answered.
I'm not going to quote my Dad's lecture and my responses here. I can say that it was way in the back of my mind, and had been in the shadows for a year or more.
Dad pointed out that I was about to be a junior, and that college was two years away. Dad guessed that Betty would be an arts major, Bill would be an engineering major and I'd be a CPA or maybe a writer. I wasn't sure about me yet, but I thought he was dead right about Bill and Betty.
What Dad was trying to get me to think about, and what I knew I should think about but it wasn't a fun subject, was that I'd be happy with Betty and Bill till college started but we'd probably go to different colleges.
Dad thought that maybe after college the three of us could set up housekeeping together, but that more likely our different colleges would end us up in jobs in different cities.
I was nodding at him because he was right and I couldn't yell at him for that, but there were tears coming down my face at the same time because I didn't want my time with Ben and Betty to ever end.
I don't know why he didn't wait a year before hitting me with that. Likely he just wanted me to think about it for one year, then to repeat it again before my senior year after I'd considered options and possibilities for a year.