Petey Pegs the Preacher

It had been 4 months since Dene and I were in Indianapolis for a weekend of music, dining, shopping, sex and---John.

John wasn't part of the plan then. He was (is, actually) a Methodist minister. He was in town that weekend for a Methodist district conference at the same hotel when we met by chance. In fact, we had 3 chance meetings in the same day, and then a fourth very, very intentional meeting that night. The third chance meeting was leisurely, and we enjoyed a long, extraordinarily frank conversation. Unbeknownst to either of us, there was swinger's convention at the same hotel where we were both staying. My comment on it opened the door to discussions about sex, and that turned up John's lingering guilt over gay sex with his college roommate, among a few other things. He ended up in our room that night. It's a long story, previously told, but it was intense.

I hadn't heard a peep since then, so I was surprised to see an email arrive with the subject line: "Straight, No Chaser--and Lidocaine Paste." I didn't recognize the "From" address, but the subject line was a clear reference to a concert that weekend and could only have been from John.

To: Kathy@***.com

From: WesleyanWonder@***.com

Subject: Straight, No Chaser--and Lidocaine Paste

Dear Kathy,

I just watched a YouTube clip of Straight, No Chaser. It brought you and that weekend in Indianapolis back to mind. (Not that you have been far from mind anyway!) I hope you and Denise had a good time at their concert that Saturday--they really are a fun and very talented group! I left about 3PM that afternoon to head home and prepare for Sunday.

It's been long enough now to gather some perspective. I hope you don't mind, but I thought I'd share a few thoughts with you.

First of all, you were right about several things, although I had to fight my instincts for a long time to agree. And thank Denise for sending the 'Magic Butt Paste' with me. I had to take several rest room breaks to re-apply that soothing blessing before I could get through all the sitting at the conference that next day.

The hardest thing I had to do afterward was talk to my wife and not confess what I'd done with you. (That and concealing the visible signs of your punishment,--it took those marks about 3 weeks to fade away!) When I got back, she could tell something was bothering me and pressed me on it. Finally, I just blurted out that I was missing sex with her. I told her I understood why she wasn't interested anymore, but that I couldn't help missing it. She wanted to know why I seemed to be so bothered right after the weekend and especially wanted to know what happened at the conference. She didn't exactly accuse me of having an affair, but I could tell it was on her mind. I probably should have expected that--we've been married long enough to read each other pretty closely, but it really surprised me. I ALMOST told her the whole story then. If you hadn't warned me so strongly, I'm sure I would have. The only thing I could think of was to tell her I went to a strip club. At lunch, I overheard some people from the "other" convention talking about one, so I'd had a quick lesson on how a strip club works, and the name and location of their favorite. It fit with my embarrassment and guilty demeanor, and she believed me. Miraculously, she was sympathetic. Not surprisingly, I'm still feeling guilty about the lie.

I asked her to think about sometimes helping me masturbate, and she agreed! Then, belatedly, I worried about hiding my red behind. She kind of seized the idea and went with it more quickly than I thought things might go. We had a nice afternoon that Sunday after all the morning's commotion had been dealt with, and after dinner she suggested that we "fool around." Thankfully, she insisted we leave the lights out--red butt worries set aside for the time being! I guess it was too much pressure, because I couldn't get an erection. She was wonderful while we were trying and even after I gave up. I resolved not to masturbate without her help for at least a month. We tried again on Sunday evenings for 3 more weeks before it worked. (By the way, did you know the Israelites used the Sabbath for sex? True!) She still isn't interested in having me do anything to her. I kind of miss the porn and jacking off on the sly, but this is better than going solo. We're 'regulars' for hand jobs on Sunday nights now, so thank you for that.

I can't begin to tell you how intensely you stayed in my thoughts! Some individual moments are still as fresh in my mind as they were the next morning. When you sat in my lap? I don't know if you realized it, but your thigh pressed my penis (you'd say 'cock' wouldn't you? So, OK, my cock.) Your thigh pressed my cock into my abdomen and that feeling is still fresh, and I get an erection if I think of it when I'm alone. Your breathy whisper in my ear--still fresh. Your breast in my lips for those very few seconds--like it was yesterday! And then when you scooped the ejaculate off of me and ate it--DAMN!! For different reasons, I remember eating you and Denise out too, and of course I remember you using the dildo on me, but those small, very intimate, very personal things are almost more powerful. You consumed my thoughts nearly non-stop for about 2 months, but, as you predicted, my obsession is fading some now--enough that I thought it was safe to write.

I wonder if we could begin corresponding now. You're a remarkable woman, and I want to stay in touch.

Respectfully,

John

With some trepidation, I wrote back:

To: WesleyanWonder@***.com

From: Kathy@***.com

Subj: Butt Paste memories

Dear John,

How nice to hear from you! And I'm really delighted to hear that you and your wife are physically intimate again, even if just for your jack-off sessions.

It's interesting to learn your most intense memories are of my sitting in your lap. I enjoyed that too--especially cradling your head to my breast. It took some effort to pull away. I have a couple of other intense memories--one of you eating me out (you're just fabulous at that!) and one of how bad I felt after laying into you with the crop. I felt just wretched after that last blow to your nuts when you collapsed. I've never given, asked for or submitted to spankings as punishment for anything--I just like the sting--but the next morning, I made Dene give me the same treatment with the crop that you got: fifteen strokes as hard as she could deliver them, with the last three on my pussy while I laid on my back and pulled my ankles back by my ears. I don't have nuts, so of course it wasn't the same feeling you experienced, but it hurt plenty. It didn't make me feel less guilty about using the crop on you, but the memory will help me not go down that road again. And then Dene felt guilty about the pussy blows she laid on me, and made me do the same thing to her. In some perverse way, we're all "even."

I'm curious about where you are with butt-fucking now? Is that still on your mind? And is it something you've talked over with your wife?

Kathy

I got an answer the next evening:

To: Kathy@***.com

From: WesleyanWonder@***.com

Subj: BF

Dear Kathy,

I almost made a wild and daring move (for me) and typed "Butt Fucking" as the subject. But then I worried about that appearing in your inbox in an embarrassing way. So "BF" publicly, butt fucking in the body of our notes. (I'm getting a rush typing it: buttfuckbuttfuckbuttfuck!)

And to answer your question(s): Yes--it's still on my mind; and No--I haven't talked about it with my wife.

And to go on a little farther, I'm afraid I'm still fantasizing about getting back together with you and having another butt fucking session! (Do you remember in the movie

Lion King

when the hyenas would say the name 'Mustafa' and shiver a little? I get the same shiver when I type 'butt fuck.' You say it so casually, and I love that you CAN be so casually explicit, but it's really 'out there' for me!) I'm still sneaking in a few solo jack-off sessions, and the memory of you slamming into me from behind always fuels my excitement. I've begun building some fantasies around it too. I'd order a dildo for myself, but I have nowhere to have it shipped that I consider safe from accidental discovery and no safe way to pay for it online. I'm absolutely paranoid about leaving a money trail. I might stop in at an adult store the next time I'm in Indy, but I'm just as paranoid about being seen.

The other issue I wanted to keep in touch with you on is guilt. I'm astounded you felt any guilt over the evening and sorry you did. You proposed what you did in faith it would be good for me, and in fact, it was. Maybe not in the way you intended, but it was. I'm sorry you felt the need to take blows on your pussy. (If I were with you, you know I'd spend any amount of time you wanted to kiss it and make it better!)

You said something that night about accepting Grace. Could you say some more about that?

John

Well, John wasn't the only one carrying some intense memories of that night. I phoned Dene before answering again.

"I don't know what to tell you that you don't already know, Kath," Dene replied after I'd read her the emails. "John's a decent guy, but he's definitely carrying a torch for you. If you keep on writing, it's going to keep the flame burning. If you actually see him again, you're gonna fuck him, don't you think? I would have last time if you hadn't been so prissy about it."

"Prissy? You thought I was PRISSY!? How exactly was lighting up his ass and pulverizing his balls 'prissy' pray tell?"

"Not fucking him was the prissy part. You were trying to be all 'honorable' by not letting him screw us. Frankly, I thought that was a little out of character for you. Some, at least. Look, you're usually pretty guarded. You don't let people in emotionally without a lot of screening. But then in one day, BAM! You've taken that poor SOB under your wing and you're trying to be his therapist."

"Well, yeah. I didn't feel anything until that afternoon at the coffee shop. He was nice enough to chat with on the treadmill, but he was really easy to read when we started talking about sex."

"So how'd that get started, anyway?" Dene wanted to know.

"I saw him stare at my tits again and decided to tease him. I told him about the swinger convention. He was really surprised, but not outraged. Then he asked if that's why we were there, and immediately got flustered realizing he accused us of being swingers and maybe lesbians. The conversation went from there. But I left it to him--it's not like I forced him to come up to the room."

"You dangled a filet mignon in front of a starving man--did you really think he wouldn't bite?" In my mind's eye I could see Dene raising her eyebrow at me.

"In my mind at the time, I thought the odds were pretty low--I wasn't still teasing him by that point, but I didn't think he'd show up. Maybe that was naive."

"So we're back to the same question: Whadaya do now? What's your instinct?"

"My instinct is to avoid meeting in person. But I think I'll keep up the correspondence."

"OK--but let me suggest one thing. Don't be in a hurry to reply to everything he writes. Let some time roll by between each one. And if waiting makes you twitch, you'll know you're in too deep."

I let a week go by before I wrote again. And, yes, I felt twitchy every fucking day--I sat down and called up his email a couple of times a day for the next three days. It got better by the end of the week.

To: WesleyanWonder@***.com

From: Kathy@***.com

Subject: Guilt and Grace

John,

Let me be clear about one thing I said that weekend--you and I are not going to have another meeting in-person. We're not going to be lovers, and I'm not going to enable your having an affair. So, please, don't let your fantasies turn the corner and become a goal.

I'm reluctant to write now that I realize I'm keeping some hope of that alive, but I do enjoy hearing from you.

Grace, huh? It'll be hard to exhaust that subject! It's the other side of sin and guilt, right? So maybe that's the place to start. It works on interpersonal levels and spiritual levels.

I remember attending an in-service training session a few decades ago where the presenter said our moral compass, our sense of right and wrong, is locked in by age 11 and only changes if we encounter "a significant emotional event." I remember thinking to myself "bullshit!" but as he went on, I was more ready to accept it. I hung onto my virginity until I was nearly out of high school because I'd already bought into that as the single most important thing that defined me as "good" or "bad." When Dene and I accidentally kissed, I was mortified! My God! Now I was a LESBIAN! I held onto that guilt for too long. It eased up some under my sister's guidance. She was 10 years older and I looked to her to judge me "for real" rather than the stuff I got from my parents. Jan had already come to grips with sex, wasn't married and had a very stable relationship with her live-in. I'm not sure if Dene and I would ever have taken it further if she hadn't assured me it was OK. Thank God! I can't imagine my life without her now. So that was a hint at Grace in a personal sense, I think. I was expecting her (mild) condemnation but got her love and encouragement. Grace, in a more complete sense, is about doing something unethical and receiving unearned forgiveness from the one holding you accountable. In a spiritual sense we are held to the teachings of our faith, which we never completely follow, and are released from just punishment through Grace. Right? That's the only way we get into heaven--through forgiveness--because none of us, even my faux-pious neighbors, can be good enough to earn our way in. But----both depend on our internal definitions of morality and sin, right?

I've shed any inhibitions about sex. I don't carry any guilt about what I enjoy--fetishes and genders included. I DO still get bothered by cheating, whether with sex or the myriad other ways we can hurt each other. I'll talk more about it if you want, but I don't view my sex life as sinful. My "moral compass" DOES point strongly to how people treat each other. So that still bothers me about you--I detest being "the other woman" and clearly I was, even if we didn't screw. I asked Dene to lay the crop to me because my immediate guilt was over the fact that you really weren't asking me to punish you in order to enjoy yourself--the pain, that is. But I think somewhere was the realization that I'd helped you cheat on your wife, and that's even more grievous.

Where's Grace? In your case, it's coming in little steps. Your wife forgave you for (she thought) going to a strip club. That violated both your and her public sense of morality. That's Grace. She's helping you jack off. That's grace. I'm guessing that you could ask her to tease your asshole while she helps you masturbate and she'd do it. (Don't, for God's sake, tell her about that evening in Indy. God, of course, offers Grace and forgiveness for that, but she's not God!)

For me, there's a measure of Grace in knowing you (and your nuts!) don't hold any ill will toward me, and in understanding that one consequence of that night is a closer relationship with your wife.

Kathy

(PS: You said the whipping was good for you, but not in the way I thought. More on that?)

To: Kathy@***.com

From:WeslyanWonder@***.com

Subj: Sex and Grace

Your last question first: I actually liked it--some of it anyway. I liked submitting to you, I liked the sting, I liked that a beautiful woman was working over my ass, I liked that I could feel it for days later, I liked it when you rubbed the Lidocaine on me. I didn't enjoy having my balls hit that hard--honestly, I thought I was about to throw up. But that part did what you wanted it to, at least to a small degree. I meant it that night when I said I was ready to go on taking it.

I'm working on your take on Grace. In my world, it's the gift we have in Christ--undeserved forgiveness, unearned salvation. But it comes hand-in-hand with repentance.

John

To: WesleyanWonder@***.com

From: Kathy@***.com

Subj: Sin, Grace and Repentance--and still enjoying sex

My Pentecostal neighbors hold the paradoxical belief that they are saved by being born again, but that if they fail to follow the rules of the church (and there are a LOT of rules) they cast aside their salvation. They seem to live in perpetual fear that they'll be 'called home' at any second and might find themselves in Hell if they just accidentally heard some rock music. They find nearly every pleasurable thing sinful, especially if they're preaching to me! They worry out loud that failing to save me may send them to Hell, though I think they're smugly confident about being 'bullet proof.'

I agree that repentance of sin is necessary to live a moral life.

I don't agree that sex outside of marriage is necessarily sinful, and I especially don't agree that gay sex is sinful whether inside or outside a marriage bond. The church's attempt to define social issues as sinful or moral has a wretched history. I can't believe gay sex is sinful any more that I can believe that slavery or the subjugation of women was moral for the hundreds (thousands) of years the church preached to the contrary.

When Dene and I make love, it is so deeply, richly and wonderfully fulfilling that to

neglect

it would be sinful. To provide ourselves with the delight of God's rich gift of sex IS living a moral life. Using it in hurtful ways is not. Withholding it is not.

Kathy

To: Kathy@***.com

From:WeslyanWonder@***.com

Subj: Sex and Sin and Grace

How do you get around Sodom and Gomorrah? That's a pretty explicit condemnation of gay sex, and one I can't get around

To: WesleyanWonder@***.com

From: Kathy@***.com

Subj: Sin, Grace and Repentance--and still enjoying sex

John--Like so many of the oft quoted biblical references this one wasn't written to our 21st century society. At the time:

* Women were little more than chattel;

* Men were raped as a consequence of losing in battle--the final subjugation;

* Being penetrated like a woman was to be relegated to a woman's lowly status--to be stripped of manly power;

* The villagers demanding the visitors were xenophobes, eager to prove dominance over them.

All those surrounding cultural standards have to be read into the story to understand it. What the villagers were demanding was to be rape, not love-making. The "sins of Sodom" have far more to do with greed, injustice, inhospitality, excess wealth, indifference to the poor and being generally rotten people. I'd let yourself off on that one.

Val

PS: Andy and I are heading up to visit Rex and Dene in a couple of weeks. There may be opportunity for the guys to bump into each other's dicks--I know Dene is eager for a DP with two real dicks. This will be new ground for Andy--swinging, that is--but we've talked more and more often, and I think he's ready. And listen--I'm going to be in Indy next Wednesday & Thursday. If you'd like, I can do some shopping and leave a plain box for you with the bell captain for pickup and you could leave an envelope with $$ for me. That way you don't have to worry about mail order or being seen in a porn shop. Do some browsing online and let me know. Just don't expect a meet-up.