2-1/2 Sided Love Triangle of Christians Debating Adultery: Yes a Sex Tip!

Well, I should thank Holly for the months of encouragement in actually writing something here. As we have several “post-it notes” of our brains tacked up on my bedroom mirror of things I’m supposed to write about, I’ll get to them as I can.

It’ll be a delight.

I must pace myself though. You understand. ๐Ÿ™‚

One of the post-it notes is a response to Holly’s post of my life last December and where it’s gone. It’s gone well. For what is the scope of well, I suppose.

But this post, my inaugural one [blast trumpets here!] is about a love triangle that is complicated, as all of them are, but this one is more complicated because of the role of Christianity in defining adultery. There are lessons that we all need to bear. But I’ll get there at the end, I think.

I have a friend from university. She’s called โ€œVickyโ€ for the sake of our codes in the Blog. I like Vicky and I like her husband โ€œJohnโ€. He’s a fine man. We were all in a young adults group at school that was made up of mostly folks from one church but others gravitated in for dating purposes. And yes, Holly, dating and mating, a little of that was going on but not everyone knew about it. The squeaky clean ones [as I was, until later] assumed it didn’t and never learned any truths.

So I have coffee with Vicky once in a while. She pays. It’s a game. John makes a great deal of money in real estate and not that I don’t [not in real estate, I’m a Commodore in the navy ๐Ÿ™‚ ], but Vicky wants to spend John’s money far. It’s only money.

So two weeks ago Vicky brings up a topic that shocked me incredibly. Having known Holly for some time and been quite close with her for months, I’m not shocked by bisexuality in my milieu. Even though Holly has invited me to Wreck Beach with her and asked if I’m bicurious about 8 million times, I’m not. But I love her dearly and am not bothered by her advances, which are [mostly] for play.

Vicky says she has moved through bicurious to bisexual. Shock. I was squeaky once. John doesn’t know. Vicky has always liked me…in THAT way…all the way back to university. She still likes me now. I’m shocked. And more than a little flattered.

She tells me about her bi-experimental times at UBC and that they happened even when she dated John. I asked if she feels like she was cheating no him. Because they were girls, no. I don’t agree with that. I can live with it though. I’m not in a place to judge.

So essentially she is propositioning me. I tell her about Holly and my sense of bisexuality now. I tell her my answer is not no, but probably no, but I need to think. And I need to talk to Holly.

So Holly and I talked somewhat on this. And the whole reason the answer was not immediately no is that I immediately thought this could be a way that I could have sex with her husband. I’m a bad person for this. And I’m not. Mostly I’m not. Sin, guilt, adultery, infidelity and all that are real. I am real too. So is Vicky And so is John.

The question that Holly says is yes, is would I allow myself to be sexually involved with Vicky [because I virtually completely have no interest in women’s bodies, she’d have to do all the heavy lifting] if I can arrange it so that I get to have sex with John.

I end up agreeing with Holly.

I call Vicky last Tuesday. I say maybe, but I’m uncomfortable doing it without John’s knowledge because of openness and because I like him and that if she can tell him [not necessarily everything about her bisexual past] about what she wants to do with me AND if he’s ok with it AND if he is interested in having sex with me at all AND at the same time then I would do it.

I want margaritas though and I want it at their house and I want to sleep in the guest room if I feel like it.

Vicky is not totally shocked. John’s a flirt and very huggy with me and lots of people, men too. I’ve also been known to be a little hip grindy when inebriated and he’s received a few pelvic manoeuvres from me. She knows I think he’s a great catch [and not for the money].

She says ok. She’ll tell him. Maybe even everything, but at least her thing with me.

My skull temperature rose 19 degrees. Was I really going to let a woman make love to me, in the ways I can only imagine from the L Word and other things I’ve seen, so that I can sleep with her husband? What am I getting myself into. I was almost freaking out, but I was also rather excited about what if it could actually be.

Thursday night she calls and says she ended up telling him everything. All the way back. He told her about a time when he had sex with a former girlfriend [which she knew about] in university but that one time there was another guy there. John and his girlfriend gave him a hand job and John let him blow him since she was dying to see that and he felt a blowjob is a blowjob. He was mostly ok with it, but it helped watching his girlfriend masturbate watching them.

My temperature went back to that hot place listening to all this. In the end Vicky says they got so much closer about it all and were interested in going through with this thing with me. Vicky says she waited this long to tell me because now I am in a place past marriage and simple illusions [obviously their marriage is not a simple illusion] and that I have Barry and our arrangements [we have arrangements] and that never before did she think I was in a place to say yes.

And so here lies the 2.5 sided love triangle. I want John. John wants me. Vicky wants John. John wants Vicky. Vicky wants me…I will let Vicky have me so I can have John.

It is adultery. It is a sin. It is non-heterosexuality. Also a sin. There is guilt from the instigation of it all. But there is also truth [Holly owns the patent on that sometimes it seems] and honour and respect. And a recognition that we cannot live the pure life. Even the people who stay squeaky still are impure. Is there impurity holier than mine? No.

so two nights ago I drive to southeast Vancouver to their place. I dress in a sensible sleeved T with non-short shorts. Very sensible. John and Vicky are dressed the same. We have dinner, overcooked [they say, I don’t know] salmon and strawberry blender margaritas. We get tipsy. We talk lots. We swim in the pool, with bathing suits.

Vicky is petite, but taller than me. Holly says I must be DETAILED in my descriptions. No one can be as detailed as her. I try.

She has tiny hips and maybe a c-cup on top. Light brown hair. In a one-piece bathing suit.

John is 5’9โ€ not beach volleyball buff, but not flabby. A reasonable body-mass index. A nice smile that shows up even well on his real estate photocopied fliers. Soft hands. More than nice, a warm smile. Yes. Brown short hair, like all real estate agents I ever see.

In the pool they hug and kiss somewhat but aren’t luridly evoking a mood of expectation of my involvement. It never lasts more than a few seconds. Once on the deck he picks her up and tosses her in. as she tries to hold on before plunking in, her torso twists and her bathing suit exposes a large amount of her boob under her arm. My only thought is that will become much more real for me soon…somehow.

Slippy clit, despite being in water. And the margaritas have removed virtually all of my apprehension.

We leave the pool and Vicky says we should shower the chlorine out of our suits and hair. They had just re-constituted the chemical mix a couple days earlier and the chlorine was likely higher than normal.

Ok.

We all go to their shower in the master bedroom. It’s big enough for 3 with probably a $1000 shower head. It backs onto the tub where the โ€œfarโ€ wall would be, which would fit at least two. We all go in and take turns rinsing our hair. John washes his and is looking at me as he does it. I move over and wipe suds from his chest and he smiles. His eyes are closed.

I know his cock is hard. My slippy clit is joined by pointy nipples which I thought wouldn’t show because I wore my dark red one-piece, so while they may not have shown, like through my light blue bikini, they bumped through. There was still a large part of me trying to be modest. I know. Don’t laugh.

When I was going to rinse my hair I washed it too. My hair is short. Not like Vicky’s When I’m shampooing, John and Vicky sandwich me. John in front. Very nice cock pressing on my belly. Vicky puts her hands on my hips and presses onto my bum. John feels my breasts. I loved it. Fully.

When I rinse my hair John takes off his bathing suit and rubs his cock on me. Uncircumcised. Curious. Thicker than Barry’s. Just as long. No hair beyond a bit of half centimeter stubble. I hold his cock to me and Vicky rubs my bum. Vicky takes off her bathing suit down to her waist and comes around me so John can play with her breasts with one of his hands. So amazing to watch this from right there. With his cock in my hand.

He turns me around and slides his cock between my legs, crouching down somewhat. Then after a minute or so he takes off my bathing suit and reaches around to press the head of his cock on my pussy and play with my nipples. Vicky backed up a bit in front of me and took off her bathing suit. Almost no pussycat hair. She starts to masturbate.

I like to watch her. I think it was mostly because I was feeling so amazingly sexual that watching her do anything would have been fine.

We get out of the shower to dry off before drinking half a jug of ice water. Vicky dries herself off while we watch as she will not let us have our towels. She then dries John and then me while I watch john leaning against the sink stroking his cock. Vicky isn’t gropy. She rubs gently all over, except firmly on my breasts and bum. I like it too. Is it watching John I like while having my body dried by someone? What is my reaction to a woman rubbing me like this? There really was no answer in my mind then. Just the question. And it was annoying. So I concentrated on the cock over there.

We go into their bedroom. Near the bed John embraces me, hard cock on my belly and kisses me. Vicky lies on the bed. I stroke his cock. It throbs. I’m so wet by now.

We lie on the bed beside Vicky I’m on my back, Vicky sucks his cock and gets it really wet for me. He slides it in a bit at a time. After a short time I’m so happy. He pulls out and lies on his back and slides me onto him on top of him on my back. Vicky guides his cock back in me and he fills me up and cums really fast at this point.

And I lie back on him and feel him rubbing my pussycat. And his cock in me. And a minute or so goes by..and none of us are talking…and his cock softens and slides out but he’s gliding his hand up his cock and onto my pussy hair, sliding his cum and my juice up onto me. And my eyes are closed enjoying his hands rubbing all the wet on me and after a while I realize there are three hands there. Then two, with one on my breast, pushing my nipple around. And I just keep my eyes closed because I’m so happy. Happy to have had sex with this man. Happy to have come close to cumming. Happy to be still on the way to cumming. Happy that I was being touched like this.

Then John’s left hand slides under my bum. He squeezes it and moves his fingers around and near my ass. I’m still a bum virgin [eek, sodomy!], but I like a little touching there now. I like it. And he lifts my bum up and down once in a while too. His other hand is on my right breast. Just rubbing it so nice. Gliding down my belly to meet the two hands on my pussy, gliding cum all over my hair and rubbing my lips.

The rest is a blur that felt like hours. But it was of course not hours. A blur of time. But just distinct kind of tableaux of images. Like a strobe. Fingers in cum on my hair. Finger tips pressing labia. Clit moved back and forth. Finger in my vagina. Licking on my hair and labia and thighs. Tongue pressing on clit. Tongue in vagina. Hands pulling hips forward. Hand pushing bum up.

Orgasm. Rich one. Helped by a margarita. Helped by a swim. Helped by having just been fucked.

And as John said a blowjob is a blowjob from a woman or a man. And I felt so loved. And I felt so honoured through all the touching. And I felt so warm. And I opened my eyes a few times to see Vicky’s hair in a pony tail behind her head and her face gliding over my pussycat and feeling her tongue on every bit of me there. And it was cool. A girl there. Totally new. Totally interesting. Totally not as much of a shock as even her initial question to me to do this.

Not that it was normal. But it felt amazing. Mostly because of what she was doing, not that she was a she.

And after I came, I opened my eyes and slid off and was just smiling and so were they. And Vicky rolled onto her back and John rolled between her legs and licked her and squeezed her bum until she cried and came. Not really weeping but a little like weeping. Tears of joy. Obviously. I’ve never wept when I came.

And then John brought us water and we drank. Then we slept. All on the bed. King size. And halfway to morning I woke up. They were gone. I got up. Walked around a little. Heard noises out back. In the pool. I went. They were swimming around in there naked. All the lights out except on in the bottom of the pool.

I went in. they came over to me and stood on either side and rubbed their hands all over my body. So nice.

We got out and dried off and went back upstairs.

On the bed John was moving up to rub his cock on her breasts, straddling her waist. She asked if I would suck him. He kneeled up and I crawled over to suck and it was very nice. And soon he lowered to glide his cock over Vicky’s nipple and I stayed sucking as the tip slid up.

My chin touching Vicky’s breast was very interesting. I liked it. And I realized that I wasn’t scared. I didn’t think I’d be actually โ€œafraidโ€ but at that moment I felt relief because in some quiet place I though I would feel fear about being this intimate with a woman’s body.

And Vicky asked me to press her breasts together while he slid his cock between them. It was very nice. Like dough. ๐Ÿ™‚ So they say rightly. ๐Ÿ™‚ I know they feel like dough, but that’s from the inside. To know that feeling with my hands was very curious.

When the friction got too tough, Vicky grabbed some lube and slathered his cock. When he came, he asked me to lick his cock off. Vicky put the cum from her chest on his cock and I licked it all up. I thought about licking it off her but didn’t. Too much too soon. Though I really thought about it.

And then we slept again. The sky was starting to get light.

And when the sun was up, we woke up. Buzzing head a bit. Small price to pay for margaritas and their value in life. Inhibitions, etc.

Vicky started sucking John’s cock. He asked if I wanted it again. Yes.

On my back he pulls me down so my hips are at the end of the bed and started licking me. So slippery. He slides in, while standing up. So much fun. Vicky asks if she can climb on top of me. Yes. In my mind, it’s โ€œwhateverโ€! I’m in such a happy place.

So she straddles my hips and glides her breasts on mine. And up towards my face. Nipple on my cheeks, lips, chest, breast, nipple. Wild sensation.

Then John pulls out. I open my eyes and see him grabbing Vicky’s bum and pulling her back to him. He puts it in her and fucks her while she’s kneeling up over top of me. His hands all over her breasts. She lowers her bum down and widens her knees so her pussy is almost on mine. Then she stops moving and opens her eyes and I feel John’s cock on my pussy again, finding its way in again.

Vicky’s now basically lying on top of me, John’s cock is in me and out and in etc.

And his hands are squeezing Vicky’s bum. And then he’s out of me again and into her and pumping hard and she’s up on her hands and knees, breasts swinging all over. And he cums in her and she kneels up and grabs his cock at her pussy and rubs. So amazing to watch from this perspective.

And then he pulls it out still hard and lies on the bed rubbing its slickness. And his cum drips out of Vicky onto my pussycat and belly and she’s down there licking again. John slides his cum up onto my breasts and she comes up and licks there too. Nipple sucking is so much fun. And feeling her breasts on my belly when she was sucking my nipples was very nice. A new experience in this life of many experiences, but still missing many more.

And she goes back down to finish liking my pussy hair and then she licks my clit for so long that after I came I had to make her stop. It was at that overwhelming place. Almost panic inducing. But not quite. Just close enough to be a riotous rush.

And we go down for breakfast. Bagels and juice and Fruit Loops out of the box. ๐Ÿ™‚

And in the shower after breakfast John asks if he can fuck me doggy style before I go. Yes again.

I lean turn around and rub my bum on him and point to the wall to lean into it. Vicky comes over and slides him my way. She puts my hands on her hips and hold my shoulders and watches John fuck me. My face bumping her breasts. Eventually I just leave my face there. So soft and slick with water.

And the g-spot orgasm is so spectacular. John hold my hips, me holding Vicky’s hips, her holding my shoulders…all that was necessary as my knees mostly buckled.

Such a nice 12 hour chunk of my life.

Vicky and I are on for coffee again this week. Wednesday.

She called this morning when I was in the shower [ironically], and left a message saying how much fun they had and how comfortable it was once we got over the early bits. But even those were fine. She wanted me to call to let her know whether anything was weird. I called back and we had a nice chat. Not completely casual but virtually there. Coffee will be good.

So much fun. So much.

So the sex tips. Because there should be sex tips even though Holly says it’s not essential.

Lessons:
Christianity is a living thing. It’s also not absolute. I want to believe it is, but I usually find times I want that to be times I’d desperate to cling to something to make the world certain. The world is not certain, even if the Bible is, or is believed to be, even by me sometimes.

Is it adultery if everyone consents? Strictly, I suppose so. In reality, I can’t really see how. I get the argument, but to quote the wise Avril, that’s โ€œlike, so whatever.โ€ But really, it is more complex than that. Me and Saul knew a black and white morality marriage. It was, in the end, inadequate to sustain. Probably not because it was the black and white thing, probably because of who we two were. But still, two healthy people in black and white may work. But who is that couple?

I’m not close to love or a relationship or marriage. I’m not as jaded as Holly on love, or as impaired as her about delving into it. But I know where she is. I respect it in her and me and I wait. I wait for her too even though she is frustrated by it sometimes. I am too. Who wouldn’t be?

Single Christian girls, even married, dating or engaged Christian girls need to follow my advice. Ready for it? Here it comes.

………………………………………

I give you no advice. Except to say this as my final tip. Ask yourself how you feel about your box of the your definition of adultery. Ask yourself how you feel about what I did/do and how I relate it to sin, adultery, fidelity, guilt, purity. All that. Ask yourself if you are sure of where you stand. If you are, accept that and celebrate it. If you are not, ask why. Then find close people to talk to about the truth of what conflicts. And if you have no one close, email me or Holly. We’re close even if strangers. It’s ok. You aren’t supposed to know it all. Especially if you are young. Like, under 60 years old. Or under 20 even. ๐Ÿ™‚

In the end, I know grey. I live in it. If you think you don’t, you are mistaken. If you don’t want to be in the grey, you may be wasting your time. It cannot be black and white. Be easy with yourself. Not loose and easy [unless you like that kind of thing], but easy on yourself, I suppose. Be forgiving. Be honourable in your criticisms of yourself. And be loving. If you don’t love yourself, warts and all, no one will. Jesus will. But that can sometimes feel not enough. It is, they say, but really…sometimes it feels like not enough. Let’s be honest. Life’s too short not to.

Hmmm. That felt good.

I will write more, Holly.

It took 3 different blocks of time to finish this, but it was good to go back through. And all this still doesn’t mean you can get into my pants. So there. ๐Ÿ™‚

You always say โ€œin touch.โ€ I need to find a tagline.

In the spirit? [gack]

In the groove? [yikes]

In wonder, [maybe]

In dreams. Yes.

In dreams,
Tina.

Adultery R Us

Ok, so adultery is a sin. I get it. The ten commandments are “carved in stone” and all that, but we need to get over a few things.

One. People’s lives are flux. Marriages come and go. We can pretend this is not happening but that just makes us blind and stupid. Good things are people who need to split, to split.

That said, it’s time for a confession. I slept with a married man once. OK, three times, but it was one affair. This all comes up cuz a bud on myspace filled out a survey. one of the questions was about what she’d do if a married guy approached her. she said she’d tell him to buzz off, etc.

That’s cool. To each their own, eh.

So contextually, all adultery is wrong? It’s not perfect, i’ll grant that. but i’ll also say in a context it can be healthy. let me explain.

So i knew this guy a few years ago. Me=early twenties, him late twenties. He was already married like 5 or 6 years. His wife was no good. Well, that’s easy for me to say. But she wasn’t. I like sarcasm, but when it’s mixed with condescension and judgement, it’s just ugly.

She was one of the church ladies at one mostly lame church i attended. and she wasn’t 62 years old and bitter, she was the new generation of church lady bitches for whom everyone has something flawed about them. The salt stain on the bottom of my skirt was one day that winter an unfortunate thing i let happen on the way to church, she said. i could not believe she said that out loud. I’m like, what is her concern, that i’ve ruined my skirt? Dishonoured Jesus? Offended the clean people? i couldn’t get it. in the end, i just figured her for a bitch. she stood around after church eyeing everyone, waiting to see if something needs fixing. and when she helped out, it wasn’t cuz you needed it, but because she needed to fix you. wow. i’m still angry about her.

But the funny thing is that i didn’t know she was Phil’s wife. “Phil” was in a christian club at UBC with me, which is where i saw him most compared to only sometimes at this church. he was one of the less hyper-evangelical ones in the club at UBC. he was more relaxed. he was also a bit of a flirt. and that was good. i had come out of my uptight virgin place. i still hadn’t gotten into my bi-is-so-much-fun phase and i was freshly single after leaving a mostly loser guy. this was the guy who felt it would be a good sign of my love for him to let him fuck me up against the window of my dorm room. not that there’s anything wrong with that, except for how that worked in our dynamic. i just checked the rest of my blog. i never wrote about him. there’s something else for the list.

anyway, phil was a flirt and i liked him. his wife wasn’t into the christian club. she didn’t go to school. she was a dental assistant. she wasn’t “gifted” in evangelism she said. that was so true. she was gifted in offending people. but as i said i didn’t know she was his wife.

anyway, the Ridge bowling lanes in Vancouver are lotsa fun. there’s a quiet side there with a just a few lanes that can be rented out nicely by a big enough but small group. our club went there on and off. and one night after the bowling, Phil and I just kept talking. We ended up at Benny’s bagels chatting til midnight or so and in that time, he had pretty much described who he is and why his wife is not good for him and vice versa. and i totally believed him. and not just cuz i thought he was cute. and i’ve never had cause to disagree with my judgement that night.

so we went back to my dorm room and fucked. it was really nice. and very juicy, the good kind. and he went home and met me again after church the next day while his wife and her gaggle of grim gals went for lunch. we fucked some more and then the next sunday too.

and all the time, i was like, you are a great guy, why is your life so fucked up that you are sneaking around with me. and i told him this. and i said, i’m glad to fuck him to get him to see what kind of life he’s in and what kind of life he should consider: the not being married kind. and not so he could be with me, because he was so damaged, but some people need to be PUSHED to make a decision. and he totally put me into his life so that i could push him. that’s what i thought anyway. and i think i was right.

and as the school year was ending and i had drifted out of that club, i ran into him at the student union building. he still had a wedding ring and i pointed that out. he said he and his wife went to Keats Camp for a marriage encounter thing a few weeks after our affair. he didn’t say if he told her about me and i didn’t ask. and one off-hand remark about her at the end of our conversation about something she said at the church made me put 2+2=why the fuck did he ever marry her: it was something about jesus being a kind of orange blossom. she said it one sunday night when she was the MC hosting a night welcoming a missionary to the church. i was there. i heard it. i knew THAT ghoulish woman. and it turns out that when he said something like “that night when my wife was talking about jesus as the orange blossom…” it also occured to me that he thought that i had known all along who his wife was. i wish i did. i would have put even more effort into fucking him.

at any rate. that was him. sounds like he tried to get his marriage to work. i hope he eventually told her about his affair. and if not fine. i did find out the next year through the hushed scandal whispers of some girls from the UBC club i bumped into that he had gotten a divorce. they said it in the context of how it hampered his evangelical credibility. i fucking bet it did. ๐Ÿ™‚

so i’m glad at least he got out of that deal.

so. adultery. not that i think it’s all that awesome all the time. but it can certainly be the kind of flick to the head that people need to inspire them to look honestly at themselves and say wtf.

so he said wft. and i think i had a good part of that. yay me. and in the end if you are still 100% against adultery, i’d just like to say that there is black and white and grey and all the other colours of the rainbow. if you still think there is just black and white, i wanna say, why do you own a colour tv. get a grip.

in touch,
holly