“Lutherans are very intense in bed!”

While most of my colleagues watched the Super Bowl last night, I had an edifying dinner with “Julia,” a philosophy student at the university. “I’ve never had a serious discussion with a theologian before,” she said when we first met. She said she was raised without any religious background, although her extended family was Roman Catholic. That, along with her training in academic philosophy, gave her a distance from religious experience. She’s a 34-year old student earning an advanced degree in Continental ethical and political philosophy. The thinkers she most interacts with are Arendt, Derrida, Deleuze, Heidegger, Foucault, Lyotard, Althusser, Nietzsche. A reference to Foucault turned cheeky: “In a patriarchal system, vanilla sex has a power dynamic just as much as BDSM,” she said. “Only the female is submissive. And no whips and chains.” She discussed the contradictions and complexities in being both a Nietzschean and a feminist. She clarified Nietzsche’s writings on the master-slave relationship and his views on Christianity. (“Read The Genealogy of Morals,” she advised.) Our conversation turned to the subject of sex work. Sex workers, she said, learn the forbidden truth that love is contingent. The fictions of heteroromance and lifelong monogamy are exposed in the transactional encounter between provider and client. Then she became more subdued. Despite having no direct experience with religion growing up, she recently has evinced an intense interest in religion. Previously she confessed to having corrupted a candidate for the Anglican priesthood to the point that he was no longer able to receive communion. Now she was haunted by Nietzsche’s “Death of God,” yet could not conceive of a compelling case for religion in postmodern thought. I recommended the late Michael Novak’s book No One Sees God: The Dark Night of Atheists and Believers. Her vulnerability became more pronounced as the evening progressed. Our bodies drew close together on the couch.

She reached over and kissed me.

I reciprocated and kissed her deeply. I confess that during our conversation I had stealthily eyed her luscious DD breasts. Without any resistance from her, I lifted up her black sweater and pulled it over her head. My hand reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. My mouth fastened itself on her hard nipples. As I sucked on her breasts, she suggested we move to her bed. Once we were in her bedroom, she pulled down her black panties. I positioned my head between her thighs and penetrated her with my tongue. My tongue explored her depths before it located her clitoris, applying gentle flicks. She became increasingly wet.

“Fuck!” she shrieked as she came.

She lay back on the bed. I moved my body close to hers. She grabbed my cock and pulled it inside her pussy. As she wrapped her legs around my back, I began slowly thrusting. After a while, she got on her hands and knees. I gave her ass cheek a slight slap, then grabbed her waist as I fucked her. But she wasn’t done. She climbed on top and rode me cowgirl, her hips bucking back and forth, her body flailing. I was close to coming, but I didn’t want to ejaculate in her pussy. As she got back on her back, I jerked off over her chest. Finally I unleashed a stream of white cream over her tits.

Then she giggled. “Lutherans are very intense in bed!”

Intrigued

I saw on social media that “Emily” was about to tour in a nearby city, and I was intrigued by her wavy blonde hair and her bountiful ass. I contacted her, was screened, and we set a date and time to meet.

When the day arrived, I made the drive and texted her when I arrived at her hotel. I went up to her room and knocked on the door. Emily answered the door wearing a black robe, bra, panties, and heels and she greeted me with a hug and a soft kiss. I placed the donation on a table. She turned on some sultry music and sat on the bed. I sat down next to her. Things started out slowly with some chatting about how her visit was going and some light touching. A light kiss turned into some deep kissing. She lay down. I started kissing her neck, then her breasts. Her nipples were very responsive. I reached down and pulled off her thong panties. She started feeling my crotch. Then my clothes came off. She got on her knees and brought her mouth to my cock. I watched as her full lips wrapped themselves around my manhood. She proceeded with an enthusiastic blowjob, her hazel eyes staring into mine. Then she put a condom on with her mouth and climbed on top of me. I held her hips as she bounced on me. Then she flipped over onto her hands and knees. I moved behind her and took a moment to behold her big, curvy ass. I then felt her tightness as I slipped myself inside her. I grabbed those luscious cheeks, and my pelvis started slapping against her ass. I pounded away as she moaned and grasped the sheets. Her dirty talk sent me over the edge; I exploded into the condom.

We kissed, she cleaned me up, then we cuddled for a while. We talked before I dressed. (She talked in detail about her bisexual experiences.) Then she gave me a deep kiss on the way out the door.

Alluring Curves

My most recent encounter was with “Dharma,” a tanned California blonde. On an escort site, I saw that she was visiting a city within driving distance. I contacted her assistant and got verified on short notice. She texted me the location of her upscale hotel and the room number on the day of the appointment. When I arrived at the hotel room the door was ajar. I peeked inside and spotted an attractive woman in her thirties with alluring curves. She greeted me with a deep, wet kiss. She was dressed in a revealing black dress that showed off her bountiful breasts. I discreetly placed the white envelope containing the donation on the coffee table. She encouraged me to sit on the small couch, and we conversed for a few minutes as she brushed my thigh with her hand. She shared that she had been an athlete in college, and her body still was toned. As our conversation progressed, she moved closer to me and rubbed her leg next to mine. Her hand moved higher along my thigh, then unbuckled my belt.

Then I noticed that the top of her dress slipped down, exposing her nipple.

She smiled and asked if we could move the conversation to the bed. I excused myself to take a shower (it had been a considerable drive). She was waiting for me on the bed when I got out of the bathroom. She got up and removed her dress, unleashing her mammoth mammaries. Then she knelt down in front of me and swallowed my cock. At one point she took my cock out of her mouth and smiled as she wrapped her big natural tits around it before it disappeared once more in her pretty mouth.

She then crawled up on the bed and lay on her back. She spread her legs, and I buried my face between them. I slid my tongue up and down her slit before sliding my tongue deep inside her. I greedily lapped at her nectar. She asked to taste herself, so I moved up and planted a deep kiss on her.

I needed to get inside her.

Sensing my need, she asked what my favorite position is; I deferred to hers. She grabbed my cock and put the condom on, then she climbed on top.

Oh, fuck yeah….

She started with a slow rhythm, then progressed to a faster pace rocking back and forth on my cock. As she rode me, I watched as her breasts bounced and listened to her cries.

Fuck me, Philip….

She told me that she wanted me to take her from behind. We switched positions as she got on all fours and lifted her ass into the air. I moved behind her round derrière, gave it a firm spank, and thrust myself inside her.

Don’t stop! Harder!

I groaned and told her how good it felt. I pounded her with a vigorous rhythm.

Fuck my tits!

She lay on her back and removed the condom. As I straddled her chest, she poured some lube over her breasts. I started titty-fucking her as she squeezed her breasts together. I couldn’t hold out much longer. I erupted over her tits, covering them with my cum.

Once we were done, and I got dressed, we casually chatted for a while. When I finally departed her hotel room, visions of her tits continued to dance in my head.

“Adult Fun”

Preparing for teaching my class at church Wednesday night, I got the urge.

And I needed to satiate it.

I set aside my material on Galatians and brought up “Olga’s” profile on an escort site. A European “model,” her long blonde hair, green eyes, and 34c -28″-36″ measurements, as well as her promise of “adult fun,” were certainly enticing. I texted her seeking a date. She promptly responded and requested some information for screening. After satisfying her request, she texted back that I could meet her at her suburban incall in a couple of hours.

She opened the door to her hotel room wearing a sheer, short black nightgown. I could detect the outline of her black thong panties underneath. She looked older than her profile pictures, but was appetizing nonetheless. I placed the donation on the dresser. In a sexy accent, she asked me to get comfortable on the bed. I took off my clothes. Off came her nightgown, and she pressed my head to her chest, allowing me to suck on her erect nipples. She stroked my cock with her finely manicured hands, then ripped open the condom wrapper. I ran my hands through her hair as she serviced me with her mouth. The black thong came off.

“Fuck me, baby,” she moaned.

She climbed on top of me. As she rode me, I leaned forward and pressed my face against her tits. She then moved onto her back and spread her legs. I slowly pushed myself into her as I felt her legs wrap around my back. I started slowly at first, then went at it faster and harder, striving to penetrate her depths. Finally I couldn’t hold out any longer, and I groaned my release.

We disengaged. Neither of us said a word as we cleaned ourselves up and dressed. I had to make myself presentable for church. Before my hour was up, I was out the door.

Naked and Ashamed

Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. – Genesis 3:7

My theology is decidedly Augustinian, so the Fall is crucial to my theological thinking. We are told in Genesis that Adam and Eve originally were “both naked and were not ashamed” in the Garden of Eden (2:25). Then after the man and woman ate of the fruit proffered by the serpent, they became aware of their nakedness and sought covering. Their first recorded act after being expelled from the garden was sexual intercourse (4:1). Or as one commentator memorably puts it, “The moment they knew sin, they fucked.”

A Baptist minister and sexologist recently wrote a book entitled Sinless Sex: A Challenge to Religions. The main thrust of the book is that a scientifically-based understanding of human sexuality punctures the traditional sexual doctrines of the Abrahamic religions, which must necessarily reconstruct their teachings to conform with modern sexual science. A further implication of the title, I think, is that the encrustation of sex with notions of sin should be summarily discarded by an enlightened perception of sexuality.

For those of us who have struggled to adhere to the traditional sexual ethic, this sounds like liberating news. But what if sex is not so sinless? Augustine, dour erotophobe that he was, believed that even within the divinely approved conjugal relationship, the element of sinfulness could not be entirely eliminated. The deformed passions of lust brought about by the Fall, he thought, contaminate the whole of human sexuality. The innocence of the prelapsarian Adam and Eve, particularly in the realm of sex, cannot be retrieved. Those who promote a “shameless” sexual ethic, guided by a certain romanticism, believe that if the old irrational taboos are tossed aside and our sexual desires are openly communicated, sexual dysfunction will cease. I’m not so sure. We are condemned to stand naked and ashamed.

Lilith

Stephanie hung a print of Lilith in her incall bedroom as a signal of female sexual empowerment. Lilith’s mythology is certainly saturated with sex.

According to the Alphabet of Ben Sira, a medieval Jewish text, Lilith (Hebrew לילית) was created from the dust after Adam to be his first wife. Adam wanted to have sex with her in the missionary position. Lilith refused to lie beneath him and flew away from the Garden of Eden. In Jewish mythology, Lilith was imagined as a demoness, a succubus. In the Zohar, a Kabbalistic text, Lilith was portrayed as a “harlot” who “commits fornications” with the “sons of man.” (The Babylonian Talmud had warned, “It is forbidden for a man to sleep alone in a house, lest Lilith get hold of him.”) If, as Judith Plaskow writes, “for the rabbis, a prime instance of the evil impulse was the sexual urge,” Lilith personified the depradations of untrammeled female lust.

Lilith’s defiance of patriarchy and her untamed sexuality has made her a modern feminist icon. “Lilith is the instinctual feminine, hungrily animating [female] sexual longings for the taste of primeval eroticism, seeking sex for its own pleasure without further obligations,” writes Karin E. Weiss. One feminist writes admiringly, “This is sex without love, without procreation, unpartnered, purely for the sake of pleasing the male sexual urge and not at all permitted within the Abrahamic ethos.” (Lilith is considered a patroness of prostitutes and is said to be summoned by black candles and sexual offerings.) Lilith represents the shadow feminine, symbolizing carnal desire and taboo sexuality. “With her legs open and her back arched, she writhes in orgasmic ecstasy, screaming out her pleasure, unashamed for all to hear” (Catherine Hale).

Lilith is both threatening and alluring to men. Kabbalist Ohad Pele says of Lilith:

She poses an erotic seduction that is very difficult for men to withstand. Men yearn for a woman like Lilith, a woman who is able to express the fullness of her unbridled passions, who is willing to be a sexual creature, to be active in bed, to be a woman who derives great pleasure from sexuality and is not one bit ashamed of it…. He will find her in the prostitute, in the courtesan, in the secret lover, in the dark romance….

In Lolita, Nabokov writes, “Humbert was perfectly capable of intercourse with Eve, but it was Lilith he longed for.”

Making Her Reaquaintance

My first visit out West since the pandemic struck provided me the opportunity to visit Stephanie for the first time in 2 1/2 years. She’s a favorite of mine. Attired in a short burgundy robe, she ushered me into her incall apartment and out of the winter chill. She offered me a glass of ice water in the kitchen, and, as we caught up for a few minutes, I stealthily glanced at her shapely ass. Then she invited me to the bedroom.

As seductive music played on a Bluetooth speaker, the first thing I noticed hanging on the wall in the darkened bedroom was a print of John Collier’s Lilith. Steph had become fascinated by the ancient Jewish myth. The demonization of Lilith, she said, encapsulated religion’s subjection of female sexuality. As she removed her robe to reveal a lacy babydoll nightgown, she said she had just finished reading Richelle Mead’s series about a succubus. (She’s partial to stories with supernatural themes that include lots of sex.) She confessed that the irresistibility of the succubus had parallels with her personal life. (Male friends of her boyfriends were particularly susceptible.)

By now her body was pressed against mine at the foot of the bed. My erection could be felt through my pants. She pulled off my sweater, unfastened my belt, and undid my pants. My hands slid underneath her babydoll and discovered that she wasn’t wearing panties. My hand brushed against her pussy; she let out a soft low moan. She pulled off her nightie. My boxer briefs came off. We kissed and embraced on the bed, my hands caressing her breasts. She poured some oil on my cock and gently stroked it. Her mouth found its way to my cock, her tongue teasing the head before she gently nibbled on my balls. She retrieved a condom, placed it on her lips, and rolled it over my cock taking me into her mouth. I caressed her light brown hair as her hazel eyes looked up at me with her mouth wrapped around my cock. Then she moved her body on top of mine. She cooed as I licked and sucked on her nipples. Straddling me, she slowly inserted my cock inside her wetness and mounted me. As I felt her muscles tighten tighten around me, she started by slowly moving up and down on my cock. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear to fuck her hard. Then she accelerated her rhythm. She urged me to thrust deeper. My hands gripped her hips as I thrust back into her. The sight of her bouncing on top of me was exquisite. My hands moved up her waist before they settled on her tits.

“I want you to come in me,” she squealed.

I erupted inside the condom.

When Steph returned to the bed from the bathroom with a warm, wet washcloth to clean me up, she returned to her complaint as to how religion stifles sexual expression. Open relationships, such as the ones she engages in, are condemned by nearly all religious authorities. (She noted some of these same authorities have mistresses or see escorts.) Virtue, she implied, is not undermined by consensual sexual conduct. Were I in “church mode,” I’d answer with certain prescribed arguments. But lying naked in bed with a woman just after sex makes me disinclined to respond. My arousal quickly returned.

“Look who’s waking up,” she said with an impish smile at the sight of my burgeoning erection. She ran her fingers up and down my aroused member and softly stroked it. I reached down and fingered her pussy. She moaned that she wanted me to fuck her again. She slipped a condom on me and got on all fours. She looked back at me as I entered her. I started slowly, then after a few thrusts, she told me to go harder and faster. I began pumping harder, her firm heart-shaped ass bouncing off my pelvis. I came with a shudder.

We resumed our meandering conversation. A fellow provider had encouraged her to use social media to attract clients, but Steph was disinclined to do so. She again teasingly implored me to read the succubus stories or something by Laurell K. Hamilton. (Despite the appeal of the sexual content, I demurred.) The night grew late. It was finally time to depart. I dressed, and she accompanied me to the living room. We kissed each other goodbye. Then it was back into the cold winter night.

On Short Notice

This is exam week at the seminary I’m teaching at this semester. Progress on my dissertation has been grueling. I’m juggling multiple initiatives at the parish in preparation for Christmas.

Fucking’s a form of anxiety reduction.
Martin Luther King, Jr.

I needed to see someone on short notice. Adrianna had earlier recommended that I visit her friend “Giulia.” I texted her requesting an appointment. She responded and offered an early evening session across the bridge.

When she opened the door to her incall apartment, I was met by a slender Italian girl in her early 20’s with long dirty blonde hair. A form-fitting red dress showed off her long legs. Our abortive attempt at conversation revealed the limits of her intellectual imagination. No matter. I wasn’t paying her for her mind.

She asked me to help her out of her dress. I slowly pulled down the zipper in the back. She pulled down her dress and stepped out of it. Now only attired in a black bra and black panties, she drew close to me and gave me a light kiss.

“What do you like?”

I told her.

She unhooked her bra and slid off her panties. She planted her knees on the carpet, undid my pants, and wrapped her soft yet firm lips around my cock. She had commented that she loves to please orally, and her skills testified to her enthusiasm. After several minutes of intense pleasure, I gripped her hair and unloaded in her mouth. A couple of drops of cum dripped down her cheeks.

She got up and retrieved a wash cloth and cleaned me up. She started rubbing me again. I didn’t take long for my arousal to return. She hopped on the bed and asked me how I wanted her. She takes instructions well. She stuck her round ass in the air and positioned her face in the sheets. I stood at the side of the bed and ripped open the condom package she’d given me. Once the condom was on, we vigorously went at it. She responded enthusiastically.

Oh my god!

Fuck!

Provision for the Flesh

From the lectionary we hear Paul admonish us at the beginning of Advent to “make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Rom 13:14).

But Betty is back.

I usually am pretty effective at compartmentalizing my religious self and my sexual self. But I struggled to contain my arousal. After preparing for my adult Sunday school class, I retreated online to an escort site, found Betty’s listing, and texted her. To my surprise she texted me back immediately. We arranged a late afternoon appointment.

I arrived at her incall in the twilight. She was nicely dressed in a tight black dress. We had a short yet pleasant conversation about our preparations for the holidays. Then she leaned in for a light kiss. She unbuttoned my shirt. My hand moved up her thigh. She pulled off her dress. I buried my face in her luscious breasts and sucked on her nipples. My pants and boxer briefs came off. She slowly stroked my cock. The condom came on, and she buried her face in my crotch. I gently guided her head up and down as she pleasured me. Then she got on top.

Just hours earlier I had been preparing for Sunday School. Now as her pussy enveloped my cock, I was reminded of Bataille’s “delicious taste of sin.” The bed creaked at our exertions. In the moment my moral vision was obscured by the sight of Betty’s bouncing breasts.

“She had sex”

“Claire” was a member of my youth group in high school. With her brown hair and round bosom, she was easy to notice. I was too shy to speak with her, but she was a faithful presence in youth group until our junior year when she suddenly disappeared. Her absence puzzled me until I heard why she had left the group.

“She had sex,” I heard it whispered.

Claire had tearfully confessed to some of the other girls in youth group that she had sex with her boyfriend. Her mother had discovered evidence of her transgression via a discarded condom wrapper on her bedroom floor and lacy thong panties in her drawer. She forced Claire to publicly confess her sin. Then Claire’s family left the church.

Claire had “fallen.” My young mind was confused as to how she could present a façade of righteousness in church each week while engaging in sexual impurity. For a young Christian girl, sexual transgression cast doubt on the sincerity of her faith and imperiled her salvation. Ye shall know them by their fruits (Mt 7:16). While I expected the provocatively dressed secular girls who attended the public high school to egregiously sin, I hadn’t expected that of a good church girl like Claire. And she was irrevocably tainted. No Godly young man seeking a wife would be attracted to any young women stained by impurity.

I recently thought of Claire and Beth, girls I knew who failed to live up to their pledges of purity. Undoubtedly there were more who had fallen of whom I remain unaware. One assumption, both spoken and unspoken, in the culture I grew up in was that females, by dint of design, had it easier than lascivious males in controlling their sexual urges. Those girls who couldn’t were simply categorized as “sluts.” Despite some maturity on my part, this schema somehow still remains embedded in my erotic imagination, which I’m certain helps account for my Madonna-whore complex.