Braless Parties Have Rules Like the Fight Club

ok, so i haven’t seen the fight club, but i know there are rules. like the first rule is to not talk about fight club? right?

the first rule of braless parties is that girls who do not arrive without a bra are required to take them off. they may take it home when they leave.

that’s it. otherwise, it’s just a party, except with nipples everywhere. and a heightened state of eroticism.

i like games with a small number of rules. like, orgasm=suck me. simple.

we’ve had about 5 nights in the last few weeks that have been declared braless. we’ve tried for 4 more, but various girls vetoed the idea.

i can respect that. we tried once they were already over. not everyone was interested. now we give fair warning. but not every party is braless. that’s just CRAZYass!!!

so our tina’s young fresh nubile virginal adventurous timid honest shy outgoing cool nerdy sister has moved to town. going to sfu studying arts. pick a major lllllllllllllllater girl. good girl.

and she’s living in res and enjoying meeting people.

and she’s come over a few times. only 1 was a time when we were having a braless party.

that’s her bra above. C-cup. but she’s already gained 3 pounds since she moved to town in august so we’re bugging her about the other 10 pounds she’ll gain this year and how she’ll need all new bras. she’ll have none of that. good girl again.

at any rate, she’s a good girl. christian too, so i approve. πŸ™‚

she’s had some boyfriends, she’s been to third base, she’s dated guys who weren’t virgins, but she still is. and her goal is to change all that. not in the same crazy sex-fiend way that i did 6 years ago when i came to vancouver. at least i hope.

no i take that back. i hope she does what she does. even bad shit is a learning experience.

me and tina and her have created an adultfriendfinder.com account for her. we won’t tell her i.d. though. but if you ask me [smwr1982] i might tell it if i screen you and you pass. lol

she realllllly wants to go in there and hang out in the chat rooms and hear how all that’s done. i told her it’s less representative of the real world than the real world. our parties are also less representative, but at least at our place there won’t be 900 boys trying to get her to watch them cum.

not that there’s anything wrong with that. πŸ™‚

so of all the hijinks going on at our braless parties, tina’s sister has been a good little girl. granted the majority of girls at these parties don’t spring into orgies. in fact, most nights nothing happens.

but one things for sure. her statuesque build and big boobies are a hit.

and while she has not been ignored by the boys, she’s staking out her turf.

this is just one benefit of braless parties.

i highly recommend them. especially if you like the boobies!:)

in touch,

holly and tina

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Nude Mexican Hotel Hot Tubs, Late Night Version

Hi.

My name is Tina and I’m an alcoholic.

Oh wait. That’s for another kinda meeting. πŸ™‚

It’s been about 2 years since I’ve been in here. Lots has changed. Gordon [Barry] is gone. He dumped me. I cried and cried and cried. OK. I didn’t. I just grieved for a while. We were not monogamous and we fooled around together and individually and he met someone. Someone whose baggage was simpler, but that’s not why he went with her.

She was taller. She had longer hair. She had larger breasts. She had a pierced hood.

None of this matters. He actually loved her more than me and he could envision a future better with her than me. THAT makes sense. I’m not totally jaded and off marriage, but I need more work than she does.

They aren’t engaged, but they will be.

Ok. Good venting, Tina. Healthy.

Yes, Holly. Mexico. She’s a mean editor!

I went to Mexico with a gf in February during the Olympics. Holly is cheap. She has a job, but is afraid of her student loan burden. Lame ass. But I can respect her.

Truth is, I missed her. She has this job thing too. I guess that matters.

So I leave town during the Olympics with just one friend. She is married but her 80 hour/week lawyer husband is married to his job. She needs to find time for her life on her own at times.

So, we’re in Cabo for a week. Nice hotel on the beach. Nice pool bar. Nice hot tub near the sand. All the wonderful cliches!

So on day 3 we take a van ride up the coast to a beach that isn’t going to kill us if we go in. Surfers are there. Winnies from Colorado. That kind of thing.

And there are 6 other people on the van from this hotel and the next one over. And there’s this weird Vegas kind of thing about what happens in Cabo stays in Cabo. Not that there are beach orgies or anything, but various people we encounter are really friendly, but just skip the name thing.

Many were from Canada and some were probably on our plane, but it’s just a “have a good time, don’t bother with strings like names.” And that’s ok.

So one guy of the group in the van was interesting to many of us. Nice looking, nice personality. Pleasant all around. And alone when most everyone else was with a friend.

And later that night my friend goes to sleep early. Two days of margs and very late nights and jet lag are killing her. Me? I have a 2 drink maximum. Weighing 76 pounds means I’m a cheap drunk. πŸ™‚

So I’m in the hot tub approaching 11pm. A few other folks are in there and a fellow comes by at 1030 and 1045 and 1100 to say the hot tub, pool and pool bar are closing at 1100pm.

So I’m getting ready to get out after the 11pm announcement and no one else is. Me, not having been in the hot tub at closing time yet. So no one’s getting out and they say it’s because that’s the hotel’s closing time. After 11pm is anarchy time.

And I see this because about ten minutes later a couple walks up the beach from way down there, gets to the hot tub, takes off their bathing suits and climbs in. Johnny 1977 is the guy. I say this because he had as much pubic hair as someone from a 70s porn movie. Awesome!

So van boy has been in the hot tub since before I got in. And we’ve been talking on and off like we did during the day. And at times he’s moved beside me and our legs have touched and arms. And at one point he lifts one of my legs up over his knees and rubs my shin and knee and a bit up my thigh. I’m smiling and find it ok.

And then he holds my hand and rubs it with his other hand. Very nice, but really an escalation from a gentle shin stroking.

And then he glides my hand over my leg and thigh and moving on to my belly [I’m in a one-piece]. Then he moves my hand up to my neck and slides it down between my breasts, down my belly to the top of my pussy then along alllll my thigh. What a nice boy! πŸ™‚

So after the naked couple get in, he declares the hot tub is clothing optional after closing. Now I’m no prude and I enjoy Wreck Beach, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to get naked in here with these folks.

Why? No reason really. Just that that’s something I’ve never done. It takes me about 5 minutes though to realize I had no reason. So while van boy takes off his shorts, I lifted my leg up and rubbed my thigh on his cock. Strangely, it was hard. πŸ™‚

And once I realized I had no reason not to, I took of my suit. And he went straight for my belly. Rubbing it, moving up to a breast, down to my pussy. And while people were enjoying themselves in the hot tub and someone lit a [bad] joint, and we were having a good time.

Van boy, however, was needing some release. And cumming in a hot tub is such bad form. So he invites me to the beach and we stroll down to the shore to sit in the surf [where it won’t drag us to our deaths] and he wants to fuck but I don’t.

He wants me to blow him, but I don’t.

He wants me to give him a handjob, but I don’t. Nothing personal, but I’ve just really “met” him. So I say he should just rub it off and let me watch and then if things go well, there’ll be time for fucking later and he won’t be so cum-needy.

So he jerks off and cums in the water and it’s awesome. Hot, night sky, on the beach in Mexico, naked, pretty much alone and this nice boy cums for me. It goes a long way to loosening me up.

And we talk a bit about the day trip. Post-coital chatting. Nice.

Good beaches, his fantasies. How, when I press him, he admits my friend is hot too. I promise it won’t count against him. πŸ™‚

And he tells me that since I’m so open-minded he lets me know that he also found a teenage girl on the van today to be hot. Not that that’s a big stretch. She was there with her mom and younger brother [about 10]. She was about 17, but kind of plain looking. Not at all unattractive, but not into the sexing it all up for school thing.

So he said that even though I’m great and everything, he wished she were in the hot tub with her bikini and that skirt she wore over her bathing suit because she has a largish, but not at all fat ass. And her small breasts [in my neighbourhood] and how it would be nice to take her up to his room because she probably wouldn’t take off her bathing suit in the hot tub.

And assuming she were a virgin who had never done much more than second base with a boy, he would take her into his shower and hug and kiss her and rub her tits. Then take off her top and suck her nipples. Then massage her ass and promise to keep everything out of her pussy if he could take off her bikini bottom so he could rub her clit and suck her.

And I am sooo enjoying his little story that I get a little rubbing going.

And he continues with how he’d bring her to the bed and suck her clit more. And if she were interested in sucking him that would be good. And if not, she could rub his cock. And in this I see he’s working our last 10 minutes into the story.

And that if she’s never seen a boy cum before, he’d rub one off for her. So she says for him to do that and he does. And he cums on his belly for her to rub her fingers in it. And she does and rubs his cum on his softening cock and balls.

And then he’d do everything he could to get her interested in him fucking her. But since she’s 17, he’d respect her decision to keep her pussy unfilled. What a gentleman.

And after all that, he passed the test. What test? Not really sure. Just that I got him to lie down and I sat on his face. He had earned the right to suck me off. Good boy.

And while no one from the hot tub left it and came down to watch, even though we were rather far away, I knew they could see me sitting on his face. And I very much enjoyed that. πŸ™‚

So I left it at that. I put on my sandy bathing suit and went back to our room to shower most of the sand off me.

I left it with him that while I wouldn’t fuck him that night, there were still days left. We’ll see. I was leaning towards doing it, but there was part of me not quite sure. And I never got quite sure.

But we did spend some time with him. He remained fun to hang out with. Nothing all weird or anything from our sex games.

And whenever we saw the family with the young girl we had knowing glances to share and he dropped a few comments about new fantasies. I kept my fantasies of her to myself, after all, we were largely strangers.

And we generally speculated on whether he was right with his fantasy guess that she had only ever been to second base. We’d see things she’d do, or how she was sitting and suggest she had more sexual experience than just that. Fun games all around.

And I don’t really have a sex tip here, except to say it’s important to listen to your gut, but don’t forget your head.

My gut said don’t take my bathing suit off in the hot tub. My head rightly said that I didn’t have a reason, let alone a good reason.

Then, my gut said not to fuck van boy, but just to let him suck me off. And my head respected that. After all, taking off your bathing suit in a hot tub with strangers in a foreign country is one thing. Letting some guy’s cock inside you is quite another. πŸ™‚

Sex Tip #19: The Rest of Us Are Better Than Strippers

Ok, This is Tina and Holly tonight.

First the point: Christian boys…don’t bother with strippers. We know it’s exciting to think about going, but honestly it’s not worth it. Even if your Christian girl is not a supermodel body type, get her to strip for you. Trust us, it’s way better. And Christian girls…don’t be offended if your Christian boy wants to see strippers. Go with him. Even if he goes with friends. Learn what the boys are looking at. Learn what the strippers are doing. Then go home and do your own version of it. Truth. It’ll be good for you, especially because while the strippers cannot touch themselves or the patrons, you can. πŸ™‚

OK, so the story is not to denegrate strippers. I know some feminists oppose stripping and others accept it. I’m of mixed minds on that. Holly is a whore and loves them all.

Gordon [previously Barry in here] finally got around to telling us tonight about the strippers he went to see a few weeks ago with his cousin from Calgary. It seems in Calgary everyone goes to strippers. πŸ™‚

So they go to Brandy’s in town. Expensive, high class. Above a massage parlour. Lots of good dancers. Lots of bored looking dancers.

Holly and I went to the Cecil one night last summer. Same kind of show. Mostly boring. Mostly a hassle keeping the smelly old men off us and finding a way to get drinks from the not smelly young men without having to blow them in their cars.

And Holly went to see a Burlesque show earlier in the summer and built a big crush on a girl. As Holly tells it, she was short, plump like her, bigger bottom though, very breasty and a Katie Holmes bob cut. And she did her dance and strip and was mildly blushing. The whole time. And she was excited to be doing it all. Amateur exhibitionism. Quite a rush. Holly asked her if she wanted company to the after party. She said she was meeting her friends so probably not. A polite rejection we all concluded. Too bad. Holly got all hot.

So Holly thinks amateurs get into it better then pro strippers. Could be.

But Gordon. They’re out at this swanky place and they’re watching stags and [odd] stagettes flow through the place but all the while, there’s a group of a half dozen girls sitting on the rail in the front row. Half of them are bi/les as they’re into mild necking sessions here and there. And some of them are into putting a 5 or a 10 in their teeth and getting to rub their faces into the strippers boobs to pass on the cash. I didn’t think that was allowed. I doubted Gordon. He swears it was true.

Anyway, Gordon and his cousin were at times more interested in watching these young girls and the young boys trying to get into their pants, than watching the more dull bored strippers. And as he tells it…

But then something miraculous happened. One of the girls at the railing starts necking with a boy who seemed to have been hanging around them all night. The she kneels on his chair straddling him. Still kissing.

Then she’s back standing on the floor leaning her bum against the rail. And the fellow bends over, lifts her dress and starts licking her pussy. Clearly pushing her panties around and just sucking her off. And the girlfriends get all antsy at this, watching it all. As is everyone else in the place. Then they all get their coats and leave.

And as Gordon says, it was the climax of the evening. Few dancers after that little show could hold anyone’s attention in the same way. Eventually he left and came over to my place for some 1am cuddles.

The moral of the story: amateur exhibitionism is far more effective than professionals. Who seem to be banned by law from doing anything too risque anyways!

Cumming to Vancouver…Arrival

what is with this fucking rain.

i know i’m the first to say vancouver isn’t rain city for 5 months in the summer, but i’ve been back a few days and now its pouring.

a few things i’ve noticed since i last left 8 months ago.

– there is snow on grouse mountain. all the way to the bottom of the runs. wtf, climate change anyone? someone at the airport said it is el nino. could be, but fuck. cyclone in burma kills 30k and fuckers are skiing in vancouver in may. wtf i say.

– there seems to be a store selling big jugs of bottled water every fucking 6 blocks now. what the hell is wrong with our water? NOTHING. hear me? NOTHING!

– i promised diane to swing by maiwa on granville island to see if my uber-crush is still there. haven’t made it yet. search for maiwa on my blog to read about this goddess!

– diane’s convinced she’ll be in a porn by the end of the month. sure vancouver is no montreal, but a girl’s gotta know that money flows from 43 year old men’s cumming penises on the internet machine!

– haven’t actually hit wreck beach yet. but they say next weekend won’t have rain and it’ll get above 20 degrees. look out wreck. i’m coming!

– in my time back so far i’ve spent some quality time with buddy, his new psuedo-girlfriend, sanna and buddy’s bro [still going], tina and her friend and a host of others that have yet to make it into the blog. maybe this summer is it for some of them?

– my uncle pete is due to hit town when the bard on the beach opens in a few weeks. i will have LOTS to say about him then. hurry unc!

– my joint/orgasm/hour count now that i’ve been in vancouver for 81 hours is about 1:7.5 hours. can i keep that ratio up all summer?

– buddy’s psuedo-girlfriend is not bi. she doesnt want girls involved with her pussy. i respect that. i also like her lots. buddy has good taste. πŸ™‚ and she doesn’t particularly want to watch buddy fuck me. amazing. this will be interesting. πŸ™‚ diane wants to make her cum. i respect her quests!

that’s it for now. when the fucking sun shows up reliably i’ll have more to add.

and sex tips for christian girls? hmmm. tina’s developed a sex only relationship with a 21 year old boy at her church. he’s dating [casually] another girl at the church who’s 18 and a virgin virgin. not even a born again virgin. tina is a church slut.

the sex tip…virgin christian girls: your bf is probly not having sex with other girls. but they might be. the advice? me and tina couldn’t come up with any. maybe we’re not the ones to come up with it tho. πŸ™‚

in touch,
holly

Sex Tip #11: Perhaps Don’t Sleep with a Married Man

This has been a difficult post to prepare.

I have a few other things I wanted to write about, but this one seems to have taken over my brain.

I know Holly’s story about adultery. I know what she wrote in here. I know what else she told me about it. I understand the context. I don’t judge her for what she did. Part of me doesn’t approve of it. Part of me understands it. She knows how I feel about it all. All my conflicting feelings.

Being a divorced person is an interesting cross to bear. Particularly in a Christian community. My relationship with Barry is working for what it is. And for that I’m grateful and happy.

But I don’t know how I would deal with being in a marriage and needing to get out, like Holly’s situation. So I don’t judge.

But in the end, I called this sex tip not sleeping with a married man. Perhaps. I say perhaps because I’m mostly sure it’s wrong. And I think I’m informed about it and not just speculating.

And the funny coincidence…maybe not so funny is that my informed state comes from Keats camp, which is sort of connected to Holly’s situation.

So. The story. Holly has convinced me it’s worth telling.

Some time before I went to church with no bra on I went to Keats camp for an event. The nature of it isn’t relevant. It had couples and singles and more than a few divorced people and divorced people who were remarried.

I met a woman in one of the workshop groups. “Patty” had 3 kids, in her mid-thirties, married to “Frank” for almost 12 years and was a relatively new Christian with her Frank. She was also a deeply funny person. Amazing sense of humour. But she also was lacking an ability to be open and honest. That came up in the group. There were 5 women and she and her friend shared insights about each other. Quite open in that sense, but never really for her was there anything that she would share about herself of substance.

And that was ok in the end because we’re all strangers. But her friend kept remarking on how hard it was to get anything from her.

Anyway that was most of my impression of her. Frank I quite liked. A gentle guy who played ice hockey 3 times a week. Yay. He knew what physicality meant but he was also an emotionally aware guy. Not lots of them around. Generally quite happy but in the end only mostly. Missing something was my sense of him.

So a number of us exchanged email addresses and stuff and we thought about meeting a few weeks after the Keats event for a chat and an update on issues we talked about there.

Nothing came of that. Good intentions but that was it.

Then a few days after I went to church without a bra [which has become a kind of marker separating events for me this summer], Frank emails and we start chatting about things: work, life, church, parenting, but not marriage. A few emails go by and I’m enjoying this, but I’m thinking, what about Patty? A few more emails and he gets to it. He’s thinking he’s unhappy but he’s blocked in figuring it out.

We meet after work one night for a glass of wine and start talking about things. He’s a bookeeper and works late a lot and I feel like the other woman. He’s also a transit guy too and we take the #20 back towards home. I get off first to connect to my bus and before I stand up to go, he puts his hand on my knee when we’re saying bye. Not overtly. Not meaninglessly either. Felt nice. Tingles even. I liked that. But I also felt guilty. For good reason.

Then a few weeks ago when summer has definitely given up trying to actually be here, we meet again for wine after work. We talk some more about all the safe topics and then he gets onto the place I figured he was at: out of love with his wife and 3 kids. He is showing some sadness but I know he’s hiding much more sadness because maybe we’re in a bar.

I ask if he’d like to come over to talk more. Yes. Cab ride. Home. A bottle of wine opened. And after about 10 minutes he’s just letting it all out. So sad at it being dead for him. And he gets quiet into a funk.

I never liked hockey players in high school. Frank’s no hockey player, but he plays hockey. That kind of thing ran through my head a lot that night at the bar. Totally off topic, but it was the issue of what I think of him kicking around in my head. Underneath it all was being available for him as a person, but I also wanted to have sex with him. Never consciously in my head, but always in between the lines.

And in his funk I put my hand on his knee and he puts his hand on my hand. Then on my knee. Then on my shoulder and we’re kissing. Then it’s on my breast and mine is on his crotch and from there we’re having sex on the couch and I loved it. Duh.

I didn’t cum, but he really did and pretty briskly. He hadn’t had sex in weeks and weeks he said. I could tell. He masturbated a lot but he hadn’t fucked his wife in so long. A sexless rut that was more than a rut I thought.

After the sex we just hung out on the couch doing the cuddle thing while he played with my nipples. Eventually I got him hard again and we fucked again until I came. In the end it helped that his finger was in my bum when we were in the doggy position. I wanted to come so badly because if I was having sex with a married man I wanted to at least feel some joy in it and for all the time we were doing it and I didn’t come I wanted to. And I started getting anxious about it. Go ahead and psychoanalyze that. Good luck to ya! πŸ™‚

And then we broke it off. He emailed the next day and said he wasn’t sure we should do it again. I emailed back saying ok. I’m also talking with Holly about it and she’s easing my grief/guilt. But the next day he phones and comes over on the Saturday afternoon and we fuck some more. And then again this past Saturday afternoon.

And as it is now, I don’t want to stop because I like how he does my bum. I like how he sucks me and I like the illicit nature of it all. It’s a mad rush.

But I also feel bad. He’s in charge of his marriage, but I’m truly the other woman. And the biggest thing, though I’ve talked with Holly about this, I haven’t talked to Barry. And I don’t have a real sense of why. We’re not exclusive and we’ve been with others since last winter, but I just don’t want to talk to him about it. Maybe I’d feel ashamed around him? Don’t know. He’s not one to judge so there’s no risk there.

Maybe it’s my conscience. But until I figure it all out, the sex tip is to not sleep with married men.

In dreams,
Tina

Sex Tip #8: Go to Church Braless

I went to worship service Sunday night. The weather was fine so the day was in the sun.

Holly came with me. She hasn’t been here for years. It was a good service. Lots of worship. Lots of arms waving in the air. Lots of singing. It felt good.

The day was fun, with Holly and a quick drink at tea time at Bimini with Barry. Bad red wine. How is that possible, Bimini, say it isn’t really so. But it was.

But during our day, Holly and I shopped. We don’t like to shop. It’s stressful, but the shopping was a delightful distraction from things amongst us.

And we hit one place on the Drive with some fantastic fabrics and clothes. There was an amazing Guatemalan design. If you know anything from there, you know what I mean. It was a light white cotton strapless halter with lace inset and a “Guatemalan” trim on the top elastic.

Having perfect though small breasts, the halter fit snugly and comfortably. In trying it on, I abandoned my bra. A nice bra, red. It spent the rest of the day in my sack. Then it was texting Barry on the way to Bimini and donairs for dinner.

Yawn. Ok I’m getting to it.

I write this because I didn’t intend to go to worship braless. Truly. But I don’t apologize.

I had a bra, but it so didn’t go with the top. And for the afternoon, even with the subpar red wine, I enjoyed people looking at my top, and my breasts beneath. You couldn’t really “see” anything, but you could make them out well. But that was Bimini when everyone looks at you as if they’re rubbing your ass. Which is fine.

But drinking and eating too late meant it was too tight to whip back home to get a strapless bra and I said ok. Let’s go to church. It’ll be fine.

Sunday night worship on a sunny summer day is no big deal. Not a huge turnout. The church ladies that Holly dreads so much don’t go because overhead projector hymns don’t do it for them.

And the air conditioner is not so great anyway, so THAT problem wasn’t a big worry.

And I like my breasts. As does Barry. And Holly. And Vicky and John. And my husband did too. And others, but I don’t write about them here. πŸ™‚

So we go to church and Holly has a good time, though she takes a while to relax. Understandable after some of the weirdness here for her.

And there’s the singing and the quiet prayer and the talking prayers and such. A moving evening.

And I caught no one gawking at my breasts. Though a few times I found a few eyes looking around for a little too long. And I felt pretty and desirable and not like a whore, even though some Sunday morning women would look at me like I was.

But it is summer, so the argument goes even on days where it’s grimy out. And it was a warm night and we were out and God welcomed me into his presence regardless of whether I was wearing a bra.

And I’m not dating any of the guys or looking to. I’m fine single and doing what I do.

And Christian girls who feel like not wearing a bra should not feel horrified by it. And I know that some girls have less ease at this option than me. I respect that and I don’t want to preach. But my lesson from Sunday night is that you should think hard about going braless to church once or twice.

In part, it says to God that you are the fullness of who you are. God loves all of each of us, even our bodies as a part of our being. And He knows us anyway. So since God knew I spent the afternoon without a bra and I honoured him in my life all day, it was no different in the evening.

So sex tip #8 is to think about wearing no bra to church. And even if you don’t do it, thinking about it will bring you closer to yourself and to God.

In dreams,
Tina

Sex Tip #4: Divorced Christian Fuck Buddies

Divorced Christian Fuck-Buddies

So after a whole semester away from the blog, here’s something new. Yes, I’m still alive. And kicking! πŸ™‚

So I had a nice email back from a friend/acquaintance over the Christmas holiday. I sent out an email with some recent festive pix and a big hello. I haven’t done one of these for years so it was fun. I even sent it to people whose emails I haven’t seen traffic on for a while too. That also was fun.

So a woman I knew in Vancouver a few years ago–I’ll call her “Tina”–replied with some nice comments and her new phone number. So I skyped her and we had a few long chats, mostly about relationships and Christianity, my obsession. And she’s cool with this all being in here. Way to go, Tina, since that’s not your real name!

I knew Tina at a hopping Pentecostal church I went to sometimes when I first lived there. It had a nice sound and a moving feel for young people, even though there were lots of older people there too. Anyways I got along well with several young people though I didn’t stay there long. Tina was a lot like me, though a couple years older. She was real short and transformed it well socially making herself a kind of centre of things. She was happy to hear that when I told her that on the phone; it’s true though. And being like she was, made others [like me] feel comfortable and included: included isn’t something that’s always a feeling at a new church. Too bad. Anyways, she is short like me and has short red hair and a body quite a bit like mine. Long lost sisters maybe πŸ™‚

Tina was fun. We chatted in the lobby a few times and sat together at a couple after church restaurant visits when I met her husband “Saul” who played acoustic guitar in the church worship team; he was a real tree-hugging artsie flake–I liked his style. In the end I made it to one of their parties too; a good bit of fun if really mellow.

So it turns out that since I saw Tina last, she had gotten a divorce. Her man had a lead on a good job with a touring evangelical team. She didn’t want him to take it because it meant I think 5 months away from him unless she broke the bank and met him half way through in Winnipeg or something. He went. They spoke on the phone.

By the time he came home, he said he wasn’t sure they were meant to be together, for all sorts of reasons which all sounded quite minor and like excuses. That’s fine I figured because whatever it is it sounded like he didn’t want to be with her. She said it took her about a year of being separated to get to a place where she accepted that about him too and she gave him a divorce. She got their 1992 Civic and half of their $2800 in savings and called it a day.

And at that church was another couple. “Barry” and “Annie”. I never met Barry, but I knew Annie. She was out at some of the lunches I went to. She is basically Andie MacDowell except with red hair; notice the pattern. A total long-legged babe and sweeeeeet as you can imagine. Total heart of gold.

Anyway, in early December, Tina gets a call from Barry. They’ve gotten divorced. He asks her to go get a coffee to catch up. They hit a ‘bucks and spend like 3 hours getting to know what killed each of their marriages. Barry’s story was way better then Tina’s. Not that I’m comparing, but I am. His story is that while she liked sex, she was virtually totally against anything “strange”. Even things like blindfolding or bondage. That wasn’t the total thing but it reflected a thing where she was totally into living a straight and really really really narrow life without any real variation or expanding of herself. She was done, complete, crafted by God and in His groove. And I can understand how she’d feel that, but at the same time, I wouldn’t be able to live with a person like that. Not that they’re boring, but they’d bore me. πŸ™‚

And Barry said that in the year and a half that they’d been apart, he had gone to Wreck Beach a few times and liked it: the freedom of nudity. Hear hear! And he rented some racy movies [tho he said porn was boring to him] and enjoyed sex within art. And he had had short, like 1-2 week, relationships with girls and even had sex with them. Not THAT big a deal for me, but a big one for him. But he found it satisfying, but didn’t keep up with those girls because they had things that annoyed him. But he said he has since gotten over being bugged by petty things.

Anyway, their coffee was good fun and they clicked and caught the Bond movie at a matinee a couple saturdays ago and then he calls her up to go watch a hockey game, one of the Calgary games [I think Vancouver played Calgary like 4 times in the last couple weeks] at Jeremiah’s on 4th and Alma [or Lama, if you’re cool]. That’s a really good place to watch hockey, especially if you can get a good seat upstairs. Great martinis too.

So by the third period they’re a little gooned and thinking about dessert. I can’t remember if the desserts there are any good, but Tina goes “I have some Boston cream pie at home that needs to be eaten or tossed soon.” And she invites him back for a snack. He says yeah and she goes “and there’s other things for you there if you’d like.” And he goes “what kinda things” and she goes with a martini grin “what would you like?” and he’s like “quite a bit.” So she says “like what?” and he goes “I’ll tell ya but you gotta pay the price first.” And the price he says is that she can’t be wearing panties if she wants to hear it. And the martini blush, she says, multiplies by 2 and she’s off to the can to remove her panties. She was wearing a long yoga skirt for the global warming deep freeze that seems to have grabbed BC this year. And she goes back to the table, and lets him look in her purse to see the delightful garment.

I must say I was pretty impressed when Tina was telling me this stuff. Not that Pentecostals can’t be randy, but wow, they can do it well.

So she goes “Well?” And then the dirty talk starts. Yay! He’s like well I’d love to have some cake, I’m sure it will taste good, but I’d also like to taste your nipples and your pussy and suck your magic button and taste your creamy insides and make you cum and then fill you with my cock so I can fill you with my cream. That kinda thing. I didn’t take notes on the phone conversation but it covered that. πŸ™‚ And of course Tina’s a fan of all this, she says, having been totally celibate since before Saul went on the road. Though she did admit to some shower solo sex, but it’s just not the same thing, now is it!

And so they go home to Tina’s place. In a cab cuz Tina’s gooned and won’t drive and Barry’s gooned and finally sold his Lexus [I won’t judge him for that, owning one in the first place] before Christmas way too long after his divorce required him too [oops] so he didn’t have a car anyway. Whatever. Anyway, they go home and had a good time.

I love girl talk. And whoever says girls don’t kiss and tell has been lied to or is hanging around the wrong girls.

The cab ride home [like 5 minutes] was good for Tina. Barry sat in the middle and was rubbing her thigh nicely, with the occassional roam up to her hip to enjoy the lack of a panty strap.

They get to her tiny apartment near Jericho that I had been in that one time and she’s in the total tiny kitchen that fits like 6 adults standing. Too small to swing a cat. Totally. She’s got the pie out of the fridge and is going about cutting it up and he glides up behind her and starts rubbing her shoulders. She goes mmm and he rubs his cock on her bum and with one hand on her back between her shoulder blades, rubbing, he pulls her what seems now a realllllly long yoga skirt up so he can rub her bum. And Tina’s thinking like, are we gonna make love here, right now? yes yes yes she was saying in her head but it turns out no. He rubs her bum, slides his cock on it [he’s still clothed], then reaches around to feel just how wet she is. Slippy clit she called it. And then he went to town on her finger fucking her. And when she was close to cumming he turned her around and sucked her the rest of the way. NICE guy i tell ya. Good for him.

And then they had pie and red wine. Too cool.

And after a while of hanging out and talking about the new Bond and the hockey game and not having STDs and how she’s in the ok part of her cycle to not worry about birth control, they hit her bed. Hard. Naked in a flash she sucks him off and doesn’t swallow; I won’t judge her for that. πŸ™‚ But she told me a neat story about this. Mostly when she was sucking him, she was thinking of her ex-husband who didn’t want her to take his cum in her mouth, but to pull off when he said he was cumming. She always did and always wondered about not doing that. She also said he had a thing about masterbating in the shower with her where he got off watching her play with her nipples and when he came, he would cum on her belly and try to get it up to her nipples so she could rub it on her nipples. That sounds pretty nice to me.

Anyway, Tina enjoyed blowing Barry and she let his cum spill out of her mouth and onto her breasts, which she liked, as it was familiar. And after more playing around he asks if she’d like to be tied up and fucked. And surprising herself a bit she says yeah and with her scarfs he ties her hands together and each foot to the legs under her box spring cuz she has no head board or foot board. And he puts a pillow under her bum to prop up her pussy and he eats her out. And after she cums [she said she bit her lip when she did, nice blood taste], he slides inside her and fucks her. A thin cock, but long enough to get her high up in that happy place. And with her hands tied she is still able to play with herself and touch him. A nice time for her first time in bondage.

And after he came, he wouldn’t untie her. She asked but he said no. She didn’t pull out their safe word [Iginla!] but she asked why and he said he wanted to play some more. And he sat her up and got under her and let her slide her pussy over his cock and they just played together and hugged and touched each other for a while.

They had a really good time. And she talked with me about how much she liked him and how much she enjoyed playing with him and vice versa. But at the same time she wasn’t really in a place where she wanted anything serious and she didn’t want this to be a one night thing. So they’ve gotten together a few times since then to play and explore fantasies and stuff. One was fascinating for her, and I can relate because it deals with the sodomy taboo. The morning after their first night, he asks if he can fuck her from behind. She’s never done that [yikes! tragic!] and says yeah but not in her bum. He goes ok, but then starts asking her about her bum and saying he thinks she’d like it and really wants it and she keeps saying no, not in the bum and he’s like ok, but continues going on and on about doing her bum. She said she never got to a place where she thought he’d actually do it, but she really liked how he kept talking about doing it, all while she got on all fours and he slid in her from behind. Just the idea that he might pull out and try to put it in her bum was a huge thrill for her. And it turns out he’s never done it either [and would probably do a bad job at it]. And when he came, he pulled out and came in between her cheeks and did a good job of rubbing his cock in there. THAT felt good she said. So she thinks she may do some bum play in the future.

And I told her what I thought of it all. I was happy she was enjoying sex again, beyond just by herself. And I told her that Barry sounds like a pretty swell guy. And I said that if she doesn’t feel like a relationship, that fuck buddies or friends with benefits can work. And she hadn’t heard those terms before. And she agreed with that concept and that ideally she’d be married, but she wasn’t at a place for that now. And less than ideally, she’d be in a relationship with someone she loves. But that’s still too serious for her. But short of that, she agreed with how I describe fuck buddies, that sex with someone you like and respect and likes and respects you can be a positive, healthy thing. With or without the bum being penetrated. πŸ™‚

So I learned something new about divorced Christians and their more pragmatic way of living. I wonder if it’s kinda related to having been…not jaded…but affected by imperfection in life. That with Christians we are always shooting for the ideal, which is good I think, but that the reality is that we don’t hit it. And healthy fun sex may then have its place in our lives whether we’re married or not. Divorced or not.

Comments? I’m sure some of you will have some.

In touch,
holly