Intense Pleasure

“I love giving head,” she said sweetly.

Her hand moved up and down my shaft before her mouth engulfed my manhood. I felt her tongue flicker over the head of my cock. Then she took me deep in her warm, wet mouth. After several minutes of intense pleasure, she gave me a naughty look and asked if she could have my cum in her mouth.

A few seconds later I lost control and filled her mouth with my cum.

“Amanda” was visiting at a nearby hotel. I scheduled an appointment with her via text message. After my obligations at church were fulfilled, I drove to her hotel and was at her door. She opened the door in sexy black lingerie. She’s a BBW with long brown hair, a cute face, and a cheerful demeanor.

Shortly after I climaxed, she sensed I wasn’t finished. I was soon standing at attention again. The condom went on. She positioned herself on the bed: face down, ass up. I positioned myself behind her ample rear, slipped myself into her, and grabbed onto her wide hips. I thrust deeper and deeper into her as sweat trickled down my body. Then I couldn’t hold back. I shuddered as I climaxed.

Amanda cleaned me up, then we lay in bed for a few minutes. Our conversation was casual (much of it was about baseball). Then I got dressed. We shared a final kiss, and I was on my way.

Voluptuary

I’m attracted to asceticism. Self-abnegation in the quest for spiritual perfection appeals to me. Part of me would welcome the monastic life.

There are certain pleasures, however, that can’t be found behind the walls of a monastery.

Pleasures like “Daniella.”

Visiting from out of town, Daniella is a petite (4’9″) blonde in her early twenties who looks younger. In accordance with my request, she met me in her hotel room in a short plaid schoolgirl skirt. She’s busty for her size; her tight white blouse barely contained her breasts. Her innocent countenance added to her appeal. As we innocuously chatted, I took notice of her mesmerizing green eyes.

Then she started unbuttoning her blouse.

“It’s the complicity of sin. It’s man and woman, finally awake, looking at each other for the first time since the apple fell on somebody’s head. It’s time! This is the gravity of sexual hunger.”
William Anselmi

The ascetic impulse dissipates in sexual frenzy. As my thrusting intensified and grew more urgent, smashing into her buttocks, the voluptuary asserted his preeminence. It was not the time for monkish self-denial. As our communion of the flesh reached its consummation, I experienced that “soft silent rapture and ecstatic bliss.”

Hot for Teacher

I encountered Dr. Sheffield earlier today. She taught an Old Testament course I took a couple of years ago. She’s the Dead Sea Scrolls scholar who belly dances as an avocation. We had a pleasant if brief conversation.

Dr. Sheffield is learned, engaging, and connected to her students. She’s also fucking hot. Her online faculty page lists her academic interests, which include interpreting the Bible as literature, biblical archaeology, and “body and sexuality studies.”

Relationships between professors and students are expressly verboten in divinity school. Dr. Sheffield’s long legs and tight derriere nonetheless make the prospect of illicit relations intriguing.

I pull off Dr. Sheffield’s dress and push her down over her desk. I run my hand over her smooth ass before I spank her. Hard. She yelps. Three more hard smacks. She then positions herself on the desk. No foreplay. Books and papers tumble onto the floor as our bodies rock against the desk….

Sexual Ache

I can’t seem to escape this deep sexual ache.

It’s a gnawing hunger that can’t be ascribed to mere arousal. Perhaps it can be attributed to some unaddressed psychic wound. Perhaps it’s simply the primeval desire to “know” a woman in the most physically intimate way possible. Whatever it’s source, it propels me to seek a remedy in sexual release.

It’s this ache that brought me to “Corinne’s” hotel room.

Corinne is a provider visiting from the Midwest. I discovered her on Twitter, was intrigued, and reached out to her. She quickly responded. We arranged an evening engagement.

When we met, she greeted me with a friendly hug. As we became acquainted with one another, I discovered that she had been a graphic designer before deciding to pursue a master’s degree while offering “companionship.” There was a girl-next-door quality to her, the type of girl I’d see at the coffee shop and admire from a distance.

She looked so nice, but….

She also gave off the vibe that she was willing to do bad, bad things.

She unfastened her bra. Her sweet, shapely little breasts beckoned. I caressed and kissed and licked them. Other parts of her body then received ample attention on my part. She generously returned the favor. The condom came on, and she lay back on the bed. She spread her legs open. I never fail to experience a sense of wonder when a woman opens herself up to me. She guided me into her. I pumped into her as she wrapped her legs around me, responding to my rhythm. My balls felt heavy and tight. I wanted to prolong the pleasure, but her squeal sent me over the edge. My balls contracted, signaling the onrush of orgasm. A few more thrusts, and I exploded inside her.

Afterwards I texted her a note of appreciation. A few minutes later she responded:

thank you love 🙂 hope to see you again

The ache was relieved. Temporarily.

Lustful Glances

Anne looked absolutely delectable in her white dress this morning. Her black high heels accentuated her shapely legs. Lustful glances stirred illicit desires. This evening I masturbated to her Facebook photos.

While the topic of sexuality hasn’t come up in the meetings of the young adults group I have attended, Anne is from a Wesleyan Holiness background which expects “celibacy within singleness.” (The conservative college she attended lists premarital sex as grounds for “separation from the university.”) Yet ἐπιθυμία is not so easily tamed. A professor of endocrinology at Oxford, noting the dictates of procreative biology, says simply, “I’d regard celibacy as a totally abnormal state.” I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind (Rom 7:23).

Despite my pastoral commitments, I do not have a talent for celibacy. Burdened by a desire to fornicate with Anne, I struggle to refrain from acting inappropriately with her.

Then there’s Sally. She’s relatively new to the church’s young adults group. I imagined sliding my hand up her skirt, sliding her panties to the side, and slipping my finger inside her. I imagined her wetness, her cries of pleasure as she comes. I nevertheless behaved like a gentleman around her.

Perhaps I can find some photos of Sally on Facebook….

Single Mom

I’ve been communicating online with “Mandy,” a single mom in her early 30s. Her screen name is redhead_freak, which gives a good idea of her interests. (She described herself as a “sexual animal” who wants to be “taken” on her kitchen floor in the middle of the day. “Man, I need to get laid,” she once confessed unprompted.) It appears that we have nothing in common outside a shared interest in sex. We’ve had three X-rated chats so far. She lives a few hours away, and last night she broached the possibility of meeting in person for some fun. Neither of us is searching for a romantic partner on this forum, so the sex would come with nary a string attached.

My experience with Rhonda taught me that motherhood doesn’t necessarily dim the fires of lust. One horny mommy says, “Sex (and especially good sex) is an integral part of being a human being, mom or not. Being a mom and enjoying sex are not mutually exclusive.” The expectation that a single mom should be wholly consumed with parenting to the exclusion of more carnal pursuits probably brings a twinge of guilt to a mom who wants to exercise horizontally. Still, free from the confines of monogamy, some single moms adventurously explore their sexual freedom. One confessed in print that, after her divorce, she experienced a sexual awakening that included multi-partner sex, bondage, sex clubs, and male escorts.

Mandy certainly doesn’t seem like a stranger to sexual adventure. We’ll see where this goes.

“I make him wanna sin”

I nonchalantly set the plain white envelope down on the top of the desk. “Amanda” started to strip off her tight shirt and short black skirt. I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants. In only her black bra and panties, she hopped on the bed and invited me to join her. Having shed my clothes, I lay down on my stomach. Her hands began to massage my back. Music to set the mood played in the background.

He calls me the devil
I make him wanna sin

Amanda is visiting from California. Thick and curvy with long blonde hair, she’s a bubbly playmate in her mid-20s. “Just think of me as your girlfriend this evening!” she chirped. Her soft hands rubbed down my back until they reached my ass. “Mmmm, so tight!” she said. She kneaded my butt for several minutes, then flipped me over. Now it was time to get to know one another on a very intimate level. She caressed my balls, then then ran her fingers across that sensitive area just beneath my scrotum. Drops of precum ran down my shaft. Using my precum as lube, she started stroking me. Then she put her mouth to use. Her tongue swirled across the tip, then down the shaft. She started sucking, her head bobbing up and down. Just as I was ready to explode, she ceased her exertions.

Now I wanted to shove my head between her thick thighs. Amanda lay on her back and spread her legs. I crawled between her open legs and buried my face in her pussy. I tasted her wetness, her feminine tang. My tongue probed her depths. I ate her out until my jaw was sore. It was time for the main event. She slid the condom on, crawled on top, and rode me for several minutes. I wanted to enjoy the view from behind, so I requested that she get on her hands and knees. She assented to my request, and I started to fuck her doggy. I could hear myself slap against her bottom. I worked myself into a fast rhythm with thrust after thrust. It was all too much. My body tensed, and I groaned my release.

Erogenous Zone

“Maureen” was making a brief visit from New England. She’s a well-built brunette in her early 30s. Hosting from her downtown hotel room, she greeted me in a pink dress. As we got acquainted, I discovered that she has a master’s degree in social work and a background in psychology, which she utilizes in her current career. “The mind is the biggest erogenous zone,” she said.

The dress didn’t remain on for long. My clothes also came off. Her lips moved down my body, and she took me in her mouth. My fingers grasped her brown hair as her soft mouth encircled my hardness.

She reached for the condom on the nightstand. Then she got on all fours. I moved behind her and slid my cock inside her. Her ass bounced against my pelvis. Even with my poor eyesight, I could see the reflection of our gyrating bodies in the mirror. She vocalized her approval.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fuck….”

Porn Verite

While searching for “adult entertainment” recently, I found porn star Angela White in a “gonzo”-style video. It shows the busty Aussie starlet in a variety of rough scenes shot in a hotel suite, culminating with her getting sodomized with her head stuffed in a toilet. Gonzo porn has a reputation for being degrading and misogynistic. “I wanted to release a gonzo DVD that challenges the assumption that women cannot or should not enjoy rough sex,” White said. “[It] is as much a political statement as it is another step in my sexual exploration through porn.”

Gonzo movies are, according to Chris Hedges, “porn verite.” “Gonzo films push the boundaries of porn and and often include a lot of violence, physical abuse, and a huge number of partners in succession.” They discard stylized cinematography, scripts, and storylines, focusing almost exclusively on the physical action. Philosopher Robert Jensen examines it in the context of the evolution of porn. “[Porn] could have explored intimacy, love, the connection between two people…. It has descended to multiple penetrations, double anals, gagging, and other forms of physical and psychological degradation.” It’s found an audience. “And many men–maybe a majority of men–like it.”

Gonzo porn is, writes Hedges, “not about sex.” That’s a common critique of pornography. Gail Dines complains, “Porn sex is not about making love” in Pornland: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality. “And when porn men are done, they are really done–there is not the slightest show of postcoital intimacy with the woman they have just ejaculated onto to.” Porn promotes “an orientation to sex that is instrumental rather than emotional.” Actually what’s compelling about porn is that it’s only about sex. Jensen’s lament about the absence of intimacy, romance, and connection betrays a naive conception of sexuality. “Sex is a far darker power than feminism has admitted,” critic Camille Paglia writes. Jensen’s definition of “patriarchal sex” comes close to capturing the essence of all sexuality: “Sex is fucking.” He continues, “What matters…is the male need to fuck…. A man is a male human who fucks.”

“Sex wasn’t a bestial pursuit, but something elevating.” That was the feminist message Natasha Vargas-Cooper received in the 1990s. In an article in The Atlantic a few years ago, she conceded the folly of that presumption. “[T]he egalitarian view of sex, with its utopian pretensions, offers little insight into the typical male psyche. Internet porn, on the other hand, shows us an unvarnished view of male sexuality as an often dark force streaked with aggression.” The men in porn “fuck with impunity.” Vargas-Cooper continues:

The heated act of sex often expunges judgment, pushing the participants into territory they hadn’t previously contemplated. The speed at which one transgresses, the urge to reach oblivion, the glamour of violence, the arbitrary and shifting distinction between acts repulsive and attractive—all these aspects that existed only in sex are now re-created through Internet porn. You could be poking around for some no-frills Web clips of amateur couples doing it missionary style, but easily and rapidly you slide into footage of two women simultaneously working their crotches on opposing ends of a double-sided dildo, and then all of a sudden you’re at a teenage-fisting Web site. All of this happens maybe by accident—those pop-ups can be misleading—or maybe, and more likely, it happens because in that moment it’s arousing, whether you like it or not. Consuming Internet porn, then, mimics many of the sensations found in sex. It’s overpowering and immediate; it is the brute force of male sexuality, unmasked and untethered.

She relates a revealing vignette from her personal life to illustrate the “brute force of male sexuality.” She once had a one-night stand with a fellow who couldn’t stay aroused without the prospect of having anal sex. “Because that’s the only thing that will make you uncomfortable,” he candidly told her. And she submitted to his request.

Both conservatives and feminists miss the point when they condemn porn for its “unrealistic” portrayal of sex. Porn is shocking because it is all too real, shattering the illusions of a domesticated sexuality.

Diversions

I was dispatched as an advisory member to our denomination’s national assembly in a Midwestern city. I find ecclesiastical politics wearying, but I did my duty and participated.

But there were some diversions – the hardness, the heat, the sweat, the passion that can only come from a good hard fuck.

I set up an appointment with “Rebecca” for the night I arrived. She arrived at my hotel room late in the evening. Very much the “MILF next door,” with dirty blonde hair and curves in the right places, she was super-friendly. We conversed for a while. She was intrigued upon learning about the reason for my visit. She said she recently started practicing Buddhism. She also said she was surprised to learn that the words “separation of church and state” aren’t in the Constitution. (They come from a letter Jefferson wrote to a Baptist group.)

Then her hands made their way to my belt. “Let’s see what’s in here,” she teased as she unbuckled it.

Soon she stripped off her sundress and her lacy turquoise bra and panties. Naked in the dim light, she spied my erect cock. As I reclined on the bed, she lowered her head to my crotch and went down on me. Then she reached for a condom and some lube. After some preparation, she lowered herself onto me. She rocked her hips in a steady rhythm as I clasped her waist with my hands. Her breasts bounced, and her breath shortened. Then I came.

I always find myself needing more.

The next night I summoned “Kim” to my room. A slender brunette with short hair in her early 40s, she was delayed because she had forgotten her cell phone. Quiet and discreet, she arrived wearing a leather coat draped over a blouse and tight jeans. After checking my ID we sat on a small couch in my suite. After some pleasant introductory remarks between us, she climbed onto my lap, grinding on my hard cock. Then it was time to get comfortable in the bedroom. Our clothes came off. She got on top of me, teasing me with her wet pussy. The condom came on. She licked my balls and delivered a CBJ. She climbed back on top and proceeded to enthusiastically ride me. We switched positions to missionary, and I tried to return the favor. I drained my balls inside the condom.

We chatted a bit afterwards. She’s getting ready to shortly go to Disney World with her 10-year old daughter. Then our hour was up. We put our clothes on and bid each other good night. As she left the room, I hoped she departed without anyone noticing.