My Adoring Public :)

ok so i'm no superstar or celebrity, but i do like to talk. those of you who've been on msn with me know that.

and all humility aside, i enjoy being able to engage with people in their issues. i'm no trained counsellor, but i listen well and ask good questions. and since i'm obsessed with sex and christianity, i'm always into talking about those things. and those things often tend to lead elsewhere.

pierre. he's a sweet guy. reminds me of "kevin" in here. but pierre [real name, lives in quebec city and doesn't care if i say so] is 28 and in a relationship but wishing he were in more deeply. in the last few months i've walked him through exploring blindfolds in sex with his gf, telling her that sometimes he just wants to masterbate with her watching, eating her pussy [because he's one of the millions of boys who's just not into that. dumb.], and not feeling bad about cumming on her body...anywhere...at all.

whew. i feel like i'm providing a healthy community service. it makes me feel awesome.

and in these long chats, i bill my chat partners. i often send a joke invoice for like $5,500 itemized to include all the little elements of conversation i provide as a service.

pierre, a virgin until 24, a boy with only 2 sex partners [not counting the boy and 2 girls he played house with when he was in grade 7], where his first sex partner was a girl he dated for only 5 days and his second [current] he's been with for 2 years now [though no sex for !!! the first 7 months, just 2nd base], pierre responded to my bill. he certainly didn't pay me the $4,200 i was charging him for months of conversations, but he did say he wanted to buy me a gift up to $100 out of gratitude.

so even though i'm always asking for gifts/payment, i said no because i'm kidding. but this went back and forth for a long time and in the end i had to stuff my embarrassment and accept a gift when i really didn't mean to. and it's all about the spirit of giving. and i respect that for pierre. and for his gf, who he feels more open with now and i am a part of that process. tho pierre did 98% of the work in that kinda growth.

so he paypalled me the $100 and i picked out two things from guess. because why not. nice stuff there. and i put in the difference, which was like only $30 or something so it's ok. i got the sweater above and this here because its sexy and easy to go braless with. and you know how i like to be braless.

and in the end i told pierre how i would publicly thank him. so thank you pierre.

and so despite the acrylic in the cardigan, i wore it out last night with ash and some other buds to our pub. i wore a simple oversized white cami under it and no bra and only the bottom 2 buttons done up. and when the time was right around 130am ash took me into the mens room and into a stall and i slid my cami down for ash to titfuck me. and after some sucking and stroking he slid his cock so nicely over my breasts that his cum ended up being the transition to a much longer then expected session.

and a couple drops squirted onto my cami. which became the focus of some initially unwelcome conversation back in the booth. eventually we all laughed about it. i wasn't really blushing on it, but i just usually like my sex to be slightly more secret when its supposed to be illicit like that. but no sweat. it was fun. and in the end i kinda enjoyed seeing our buds look at my breasts and see ash's cum on my cami. thats the exhibitionist in me. which wasn't really stoked by being in the bathroom because no one came while we were in there. but that's ok too. the only truly awkward moment came when one of my buds asked the server at one point that if she could bring over a rag because holly got a protein spill on her shirt. and he pointed at me and she looked at me concerned about a spill and then upon closer examination and gauging the context better she figured out what he was talking about and immediately felt like she just walked in on us having sex. but that passed after a few seconds.

and now i know the next time i see her in the pub, the smile i give her [which she always gets] will have an added context of knowing in it. that she knows that my boytoy spilled cum on my top in her pub. and that it's our secret. it kinda bonds us together i think. :)

so pierre, i hereby thank you again for your gift. and ash thanks you as well. and our friends in the pub thank you. and i already know that your gf thanks you [and me, and you really can tell her about me if you like, nothing to be ashamed of!]. and as promised i have related to you an enjoyable moment wearing the sweater.

i haven't worn the dress yet, but when i do i'll send you that story as well. promise.

in touch,
holly

Hating the Sin[ner], Loving the Sinner

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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! :)

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

Slumber Party Gone to a New Level?

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Facebook Sucks

no sex tip here. it's just that facebook sucks.

they have twice deleted my account for spamming.

absolutely amazing. as far as i can tell it only takes a series of words repeated in posts or posts too close together in time to be completely deleted from facebook. there seems to be no human involved in the process.

below is the email i sent the second time i got deleted. at the top is the response they sent me at my appeal. it was word for word the same response i got the first time i was nailed.

it seems when i end my posts/emails with

in touch,
holly

i am spamming. those are the only words that were common to all the various emails and posts that got flagged as spam. amazing.

Hi Holly,

Your account has been disabled because you have violated
Facebook's Terms of Use. Abusing the features of the site
to spam other people is not permitted. I'm sorry, but you
will no longer be able to use Facebook. This decision is
final.

Thanks for your understanding,

Jonas
Customer Support Representative
Facebook



[stcgirls@hotmail.com - Fri Aug 24 01:45:31 2007]:

i get a spam warning because a dozen people try to add
me. people i don't know. so i write a note saying "hey, how
do i know you?" and stuff to find out why they wanna add
me.

and since like a dozen people try to add me i just
paste it in there.

and i get the spam warning. fine. it's
obvious to me the server saw me putting the same thing
in.

but isn't there an actual person who figures out the
context before a spam warning?

then all of a sudden i'm posting something in a group and i get disabled?

i totally don't get that. the disabling rules seem really inconsistent.
was there a human at all who decided anything or is it all
automated?

holly

in touch,
holly


if you knew me in facebook, please email me at my address on my blog. i welcome your contact!

Sex Tip #10: Nipple Flashing for Fun and Profit!

i'm a feminist and all that, but i'm also sensible. we live in an anti-woman society. we get paid 71% of what men do [5 years ago it was all the way up to 72% so it's going down!], and we are biologically at greater risk of STIs than boys.

i had a long msn chat conversation with a gal friend recently who's a MILF with a 15-ish year old son, whose friends turn her on. we talked alot about how to feel erotic about playing a MILF for the friends [one in particular] without having to go and have sex with the boy. and i told her what i do with my blouses and bras sometimes.

i brought it up in an email exchange with a new online bud tonight when i mentioned that i'm staying with buddy rent-free this summer in exchange for sex. which i guess makes me a prostitute. but then he's not some smelly geek. he's buddy from many postings last summer. my vancouver boytoy. good relationship. friend with lots of benefits but an open relationship. quite healthy actually. and if two people live together and one doesn't work [even a wife/husband], doesn't that person participate in a relationship [including fucking] for "rent." here's what i wrote in my emails:

"i am finding young boys to buy me drinks as my summer wad of cash is almost gone and my flight back to school isn't for another week and a bit. not hard. put on a loose fitting top, do up my bra one clasp too big and i get all the belinis i want all night."

and what do the guys get for a $6 belini or two, a relatively cheap peep show, that frankly is 30-90 minutes of the tease of trying to see nipple, getting to glance down my top quite a bit and maybe not even being lucky enough to see a nipple. and they like to talk with girls and buying us a drink lets them do it for a while. and while most of them aren't interesting enough to date, they're all [ok virtually all] interesting enough as PEOPLE to have a conversation with. and if they like to look at my chest, i feel erotic. nice deal all around. but a $6 belini [or even 2 or 4] doesn't get a random boy a fuck, a blowjob or a handjob. even hookers charge way more than that.

so in my emails tonight, my new online buddy replied how i make "slutty-chic look easy" and that he wished he could fuck for rent sometimes.

this is where i hit my brainstorm in my reply...

"guys CAN fuck for rent. they just have to change society, get rid of chauvinism, pay women 100% of what men make not 72% and then they get EQUALITY! men's suffragettes need to get active. you are an oppressed gender. time to heal society so you get what we get. and i'm hardly chic. i TRY but i dont have the fashion sense to pull it off. letting guys peek at my breasts in hopes of seeing a nipple requires NO chic whatsoever."

that's my genius wisdom tonight. it's not often that girls have the upper hand at anything. i get "free" room and "free" drinks all summer. many different types of feminism object to these methods and i totally understand their arguments. i can't even object to them and prove them wrong. all i can say is that while things are unequal, i have the right to seek some redress sometimes.

and if you like the braless sex tip last time, this one should fit right in. :)

in touch,
holly
Sex Tips for Christian Girls
http://stcg.blogspot.com

Sodomy, the Pastor's Wife, Borat: Sex Tip #9...Anal Almost Equals Oral Sex

OK. I went to see Borat several weeks ago. Mostly funny. A bit long though. I'll watch his show though.

I went with Barry. We've been hanging out more. I have a scorecard to share too before I get into my story.

Sex with Barry: many many times over the last 8 months.

Sex with Vicky and John: twice now, once with Barry there too, when I bought my new scuba cut bathing suit. More on that later.

Sex with Holly: one tentative time [I didn't climax], one time with Barry too, one not so tentative time [I climaxed twice], once with Holly and her buddy, the man whose bed she sleeps in and/so doesn't have to pay rent in Vancouver this summer.

Sodomy: 7 times.

And this is the tip. Vaginal intercourse is what it is. Oral sex, blowing boys, is what it is. Anal sex, Barry's penis in my bum, is on par with oral sex.

That's my conclusion.

Rum, Sodomy and the Lash. That's what I hear is the old British Navy. Funny.

Sodomy in the Bible is pretty precise. And I think it's all about keeping boys from boning other boys.

And I know very well that Holly isn't into bum stuff. And I know that my first post in here had some dancing around the bum thing. And Barry had never done anal before me either. And eventually we just tried it. Took some practice. Felt a little odd. We found our rhythm. And it is sweet. And I love Holly and respect her bum and it's hers to do with as she pleases. Yeah for bums!

So we've gone all anal. And we still do other things, but bum fun is fun. That's it. Nice climaxes. For both of us.

So Borat.

We went out to a big theatre to see Borat. Lots of shows there. We pay for tickets and walk in. We're winding around lines and things wanting to get seats before food.

Barry's walking behind me as we hit a traffic jam. He bumps my bum with his cock as we slide beside the line, ducking past a big cardboard movie poster. And he says loud enough for anyone to hear [if they're close by], "Want it in your bum tonight?" And I'm nodding and smiling.

And since no one is around, we're fine.

Except.

Except our youth pastor's wife is standing behind the cardboard movie poster and hears it all. And as Barry is saying it, I'm looking the other way. And I hear the abrupt ceasing of a conversation coming from behind the big poster. So I look over and see her. And a friend of hers who I don't like because she has virtually no personality [at least in my presence].

And we just keep walking because Barry doesn't really know her and I don't let on. Though my face turns red as my hair. So I tell him it all when we get seats. I'm looking around and they don't come in. No surprise they're not seeing Borat.

And Barry is just loving it. And off he goes to get food.

And I sit there thinking, just what is wrong with sodomy anyway, when I'm a woman. :)

And I don't want to get all theological and everything. Holly's good and whipping through the history of the church to let me know what backstory explains parts of the Bible. But I don't care.

And I don't care what my pastor's wife thinks of my anal sex. A tiny bit of me cares but the rest is out to end that little bit.

And Barry sure doesn't care.

And my sex tip is for Holly and all other girls who are scared off of anal sex because of anti gayboy stuff in the Bible. Try it. If you like it, AWESOME. If you don't, you can let it go.

And if you don't want to try it, great. Respect your own feelings. Holly does. And even though I even showed her the picture we took of Barry in my bum, and she liked it, she's still not game. And I totally respect her for that.

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. :)

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

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. :)

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 “Vicky” for the sake of our codes in the Blog. I like Vicky and I like her husband “John”. 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 :) ], 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 5'9” 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 “far” 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 “afraid” 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. :) So they say rightly. :) 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 “whatever”! 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. :)

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 “like, so whatever.” 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. :)

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. :)

You always say “in touch.” I need to find a tagline.

In the spirit? [gack]

In the groove? [yikes]

In wonder, [maybe]

In dreams. Yes.

In dreams,
Tina.

"I'm Saving Myself For Wild, Passionate, Awkward Honeymoon Sex"

ok, so i joined facebook. i'm a cult member now. i'm also addicted. plenty of happiness there.

but i found this neat group. i'm in dozens of groups already, yay, but this one is cool:

"I'm Saving Myself For Wild, Passionate, Awkward Honeymoon Sex"

there's almost 30k people in it. that's lots in facebook i think.

but when i look at people in that group, like these cuties, i feel sad that they're not boinking. they DESERVE to be. but i do respect their choice to be celibate. but there's celibate and there's CELIBATE. like my earlier posts on my Catholic boy bud.

in the end, i like the awkward bit. it's the truth for many. it also reminds me of something i wrote in a previous blog entry:

if you listen to them, you may find yourself in your late 20s, engaged, then married, still a virgin, spending the first mannnnnnnny awkward months of your marriage learning how to be sexual with anything less than pitch black. my divorced Anglican cousin Julie endured this. bad news. more about her in a little while.

i recall that i've never told julie's story. that'll have to come soon.

in the end [the sequel], be abstinent or not. it's up to you. and if you stay a virgin, revel in it. cuz maybe no one else will. but respect your lines...what is too far and what is not. and enjoy being in them.

in touch,
holly

Sex Tip #7: Lessons in Self-Esteem from Pix on Flickr

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Fucking Catholic Boys [or not]: Sex Tip #6

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