Podcasts about sex god

Speaker: Mylon OlliliaSeries: Taboo Topics

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 3 Handmaiden Traditions In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Pain is either not knowing what it is or forgetting what it was       "Okay," I choked. "I only wanted one of you bitches up here tonight so Heaven can stay but the rest of you have to go." No one responded instantly. "You don't tell me what to do, freshman," Heaven said as she smacked me across my thigh. "Christina, let's get out of here; I feel like getting something to eat, something else that is," she told the Queen. In the time it took Heaven to gather her clothes and get dressed, the group was gone, and I was left wondering what the hell I'd stepped into. I figured one guy and nine hundred girls, and I'd be living the dream. Only an idiot would have assumed there would be no existing power structure, competing sexual desires, or people less than happy with my cleverness. Suddenly, having to survive three more days to the weekend seemed too much to ask. Fighting for the Weekend. I was slumped down on the floor against the wall when an expensive pair of shoes came at me. Since my stomach and left side were well acquainted with pain already I chose to block with both arms which hurt a little bit less. This unnamed assailant pivoted back for another kick when Heaven grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his head into a picture above my head. He dropped like the sack of shit that I'm sure he was. I was struggling up when Cappadocia grabbed my wrist and helped me stand. Three more guys stood between us and the bathroom door, outside of which a battle of the sexes was starting to be waged; FFU vs. AKA fraternity. You may be wondering how I ended up here; I sure am. (I promise this will all make sense eventually) Starting in the Past The light tapping on my door broke my oral attention on Barbie Lynn's right nipple. I kept frigging her with two fingers in her cunt while I caught a quick look at the time. It was twelve-ten in the morning. Who the hell? "I need to check this out," I warned Barbie. "What?" she wondered. "What's going on?" "There is someone at the door and I think I know who it is. I'll be right back," I explained. Barbie looked apprehensive for obvious reasons. I grabbed a robe and headed down to the door as there was a second rap at the door. I swung the door open and there stood Rio. "Hey, Bitch, are you going to make me wait out here or what?" she teased me. I stood aside and followed her back to my bedroom. Barbie had disappeared under the quilt and covers but I was careful to not sit on her when I flopped onto the bed. "What can I do for you?" I inquired of Rio. "Keep it holstered, Cowboy," Rio laughed. "Save that python for your playmate Barbie. Do remind her that if she rides you too rough, she can break it off." "I'll have you know she's the most gentle and sensitive woman I've ever known," I countered with a grin of my own. "Really?" she asked speculatively. "Really," I affirmed. "In that case, maybe you can give her to me for an evening. I'd like to play with her; you know, a little light bondage, spanking, and a dildo, vibrator or three," she asked suggestively. "Is that all?" I asked. "Of course, I'd put those succulent lips to good use and I bet her tongue is to die for. I'd also love to chew on those massive titties, bite her and mark her as my own," Rio added. "If she moans like enough of a slut, I'll even eat her out too." "If it somehow comes up in casual conversation I'll let her know," I promised, while at the same time I resolved to actually have a decent hiding place when I fixed things up. "Don't do that," Rio insisted. "I'd rather kidnap her, blindfolded, so that I can take her to a bar and hand her around like a party favor." "That's kind of cold," I cautioned her. "What about her virginity?" "There are all kinds of chastity belts I can fit her with that leave her mouth and ass free," Rio regaled me. I really had no idea but I didn't doubt it existed. "Isn't that a bit harsh? What has Barbie Lynn ever done to you?" I was curious to know. "Barbie Lynn, she is a girl in need of a good, hard fucking, regularly and repeatedly" She grinned like she was a female Loki, Goddess of Mischief. "If you think so, I guess I could tie her up and leave her for you, bound and gagged in the trunk of my car. I'm sure when you get to the bar you'll find some big strong men to take her out for you," I outlined the plan. Rio desperately fought down her giggles. "Well, that's given me some pleasant images to get to bed with," Rio came over and kissed me on the cheek. "Give me that sleeping bag and I'll catch some Zees." "Sure, no problem. You know how I snore so if you hear any noise coming from my bed, just ignore it," I winked. "Okay. As long as nothing touches the floor, I'll be fine," she assured me. "What happens if something touches the floor?" I had to ask. It was getting downright hilarious. "I scream like a banshee. I was molested by a Chihuahua when I was young and I've never gotten over it," Rio snickered. "I will keep all my bits up on the bed, then. Now, get squared away so we can get some sleep," I grinned. Rio laid out my sleeping bag below the footboard and climbed inside. "Good night, Zane," Rio yawned as I cut off the light. "Good night, Rio," I replied. "Good night, Barbie Lynn," Rio giggled. There was a long pause as a naked Barbie tensed up, then wiggled up from beneath the bed coverings. She looked at me curiously then crawled down on all fours to the foot of the bed. I was momentarily paralyzed by the look of Barbie's entire rearview cast in the pale moonlight. "How did you know I was here?" Barbie Lynn questioned Rio. "Unless Zane started sleeping with fifty pounds of extra bedding, there was someone under the covers with him; then it was a matter of figuring out who was the sexiest upperclassman who would take the risk," Rio explained. "So this whole talk about kidnapping me and taking me to a bar was meant to scare me?" Barbie accused Rio, who snickered yet again. "Tell me, Barbie, did that get you hot or what? Be honest now," Rio challenged her. Barbie Lynn flushed furiously and looked over her shoulder at me, trying to gauge her words to my reaction. I moved up behind her, kissing from the small of her back then forward while my hand rubbed along her ass and flanks. She kept her eyes on me until my hand cupped her sex, at which point her eyes shut and her breathing increased. "Oh, Barbie Lynn sighed as she let her legs part and her cunt went from damp to dripping. "If Zane was with me, I'd feel safe," Barbie stammered nervously. "He'd not let anything bad happen to me, but I'd like to, just a little." I'd never tied a girl up before now, I'd never really wanted to, but taking in all of Barbie right at the moment, I made a note of consorting with my sorority friends about what to use when the opportunity presented itself. Two fingers in, two fingers out, two fingers in, two fingers out, one finger in her cunt and one in her ass. Barbie shuddered deliciously. "You two fuck your brains out," grumbled Rio. "I'll lie here and try to get some sleep." "Good, good, good luck with that," panted Barbie Lynn, "I'm a real screamer," and she really was. "I swear, if one more girl had climbed into that shower with you, I was going to tape on a stun gun in the on setting and toss it in," Rio joked. "A, you don't have a stun gun, and B, the floor was so wet you would have stunned yourself too," I pointed out. "Threaten me not with logic, dumbass," Rio chuckled. "Fine. Not that I mind your company but, don't you have to get dressed?" I groaned. "Do you think anyone would notice if I went to class naked today?" Rio wondered. "Notice, yes; make you the target of a direct-to-video lesbian gangbang porn flick, yes too," I taunted her. "Damn it, Zane," Rio squawked, "you've tapped into my secret fantasy!" "Save it for your creative writing assignment in English class," I nudged her. "Now seriously, I need to get dressed and so do you." Rio's exaggerated frown only made me chuckle harder but I did manage to shush her out. I sang my way to breakfast, literally. The latest demand of my Handmaiden's Duty was a rendition of 'Call Me Maybe' which garnered us quite an audience if not accolades for my proficiency. Rio tried to record me on her phone but an observant junior picked Rio for a piggy back ride. Iona hovered closely to Barbie Lynn again, which kept her safe. Christina snatched us on the way to Assembly. One look told me things had gone horribly wrong but I didn't know why. She picked me and when I protested (a junior named Sybil had pre-ordered my services) Heaven grabbed Iona as a clear threat to me. Chastity hijacked Rio before she could throw her food tray on Christina's head but I admired my buddy's fanaticism and loyalty. "I'm with Sybil," I tried to explain, but that girl did a quick disappearing act. "Okay, then, what do you want me to do?" "We seem to have this little disagreement about you thinking you can dictate my behavior," she smiled sweetly, "so I'm going to be monopolizing your time for the rest of the semester." Iona groaned and I was afraid Rio would do something stupid. "Zane, I want you to carry my books to my next class," which didn't sound too bad but, "on your knees," she gloated, "but I'll, " "You conceited bitch!" snapped Rio. "Stop it!" I growled back to Rio angrily enough to stop her. "This is what they want." "Hmm, Christina contemplated, "I was going to allow you to crawl on the grass but now I think you will do it on the walkway." Crawling all that way on bricks would be painful to say the least. "Now I think we'll have Rio do it," she continued. I waved Rio to silence. "As I remember you have this noble streak so I'm going to give you the option of you traveling on the bricks or letting Rio do it." It was some horrible sick joke and I knew the results before I spoke. "I'll do it," I answered, but again, I knew it was useless. "Agreed," Christina handed me her book bag while Heaven did the same to Rio, "Rio can take the walkway and I'll let you take the grass." She waited for my response. "What; no repose? No protests? No rants?" she questioned. "That's not where my mind is at, Christina. You just keep digging a deeper hole. I'll bury you in it; how you crawl back out is your business," I shrugged. "I understand, Zane. Faith, give your books to Iona. She can share the walkway with Rio," Christina ordered. Again I had to stop Rio from erupting; there was nothing I could do. We were boned in this bizarre institution's humiliating ritual. "Zane will take the walkway on his knees, Rio can do the same on the grass, and Iona can carry the rest of our books," Chastity announced out of the blue. "Chastity?" Christina questioned her rebellious minion. "They get the point," Chastity suggested. "I'm with Chastity," Hope declared. "I'll explain when we get outside," Chastity all but begged. I had to scratch megalomania off my list of possible character flaws of Christina; she motioned our little troupe to proceed and made no protests when we freshmen took up our duties. Rio and I had to cover two hundred feet on our knees; I flashed Rio a vicious, confident grin. She grinned back and mouthed 'Fuck all the bitches,' which made me chuckle. "What is so funny?" growled Heaven. "Your skirt is caught in your underwear so every time you step left your skirt rides up," I lied convincingly. Heaven reached around and tried to straighten out the nonexistent problem. "Heaven, he's playing you," Hope intervened. Heaven's eyes rained fiery death down on me. "Who is digging themselves a deeper hole now?" Christina taunted me. "I accept that Heaven is going to get her due and I'm fine with that. Of course, when I finally bring you to your knees, I know that look on your face is going to be priceless," I glared back. "You are also not going to see Barbie Lynn outside of official business," Christina informed me. "I'll give your suggestion all the merit it deserves," I smiled. "That is not a suggestion, and if you do see her again, she will be expelled and a letter of explanation will be sent to her parents and fianc ," Christina said intently. That brought me up short. "I'm not going to mention you, Zane. She'll go down but you will remain scot free." "Why are you doing this to him?" Iona murmured. "He needs to learn his lesson," Faith whispered to her. "Oh," the normally timid freshman responded, "is that what this is? He is so going to own all of you if this is the best you've got." Hope burst out in laughter at the mouse's challenge. The ordeal was over for the period but resumed when class let out again. Iona's schedule was in shambles because Christina had let word get out that Rio and I were out of bounds for anyone else in the school. By the time I went to Archery, my slacks were torn and my knees were bleeding. Chastity did what she could do as my Team Captain but then I was back on my knees heading to Karate. In an abstract way my teammates in Karate knew what was happening to me but when they saw that I could barely move without wincing in pain, they became conflicted. Coach Dana was nice enough to offer to take me to the Chancellor so I could quit and end my suffering. I opted for letting my teammates in the second squad beat me up instead. The only hard part about my dinner plans was the reality that I was the only boy on campus. No one would confuse me with any other student so sneaking off to my dorm was impossible. The answer to my dilemma should have been obvious to Christina, glaring obvious. As it was, I had to get Christina's reaction secondhand as Rio, Iona, and I were cruising into town in my car with civilian clothes helpfully provided by my secret ally. Rio groaned sarcastically when we arrived at our destination where Iona clapped her hands in glee. My argument was that everyone liked ice cream and, while Rio declared the whole endeavor to be juvenile, that didn't stop her from ordering three scopes with whipped cream and sprinkles. I was paying for our outing when three girls walked in. "Zane?" the third girl asked. I took her in only long enough to know she looked better in a swim suit. "Hey, Leigh," I grinned. "You look even better with clothes on." Leigh gave a hearty laugh while her companions tried to make sense of the situation. "The Zane?" the lead woman inquired. I looked at her quizzically. "Zane, our next door neighbor?" How had I suddenly become famous enough to earn a 'The' in front of my name? "Sure, that's me. I've been at school but that's my house," I responded. "This is Tawny Flores, our chapter President, and my sister Ricky Frasier," Leigh said. "Rio Talon, my ex-roommate, and Iona Becket, my cohort in crime," I offered. "Sorority chicks? Seriously, Zane, you need to start raising the bar on the quality of women you hang out with," joked Rio. That went over like a lead balloon. "Your girlfriend is a bit jealous," Leigh broke the silence. "I'm not his girlfriend," Rio grinned viciously. "I prefer boys who've reached puberty." "Tawny, Ricky, and Leigh, I apologize for Rio. We've had some issues with upperclassmen all day long and it has left some of us crankier than others," I said. "Things can be rough for freshmen; we understand," Tawny allowed as she eyed me speculatively. "How about I buy you all some cones?" I offered in return. "We are not here for ice cream, or ice cream in cones," Leigh explained. "We have a party Saturday night, our first of the semester, and we need to place an order for a few gallons." "Cool. I hope you ladies have a blast," I nodded as I moved to join Rio and Iona, letting the sorority girls move to the counter and make their order. They eventually did get some cones and came our way. "Horny sluts at seven o'clock," whispered Rio as they approached me from the rear. "Zane," Tawny smiled down at me, "are you rushing a fraternity?" Rio snorted in derision. "Zane couldn't rush a fraternity," Rio explained. "It would tragically cut down on his time with all his girlfriends." The three older women gazed at me, looking for the punch line. "Here you go," Iona stated, holding up her phone to Tawny. "This is Barbie Lynn, Christina, Chastity, Brandi, Hope, Cappadocia, Opal, she continued to go down the list of women in my life as well as displaying their pictures. The ladies went from skeptical to confused to impressed. "You are sleeping with all these girls, in your first three days of school?" Leigh wondered. "No," Rio pre-empted, "he hasn't actually had sex with all of them. That's silly. The magic thing is how often he gets them to orgasm. What's your record, Zane?" "It is not a contest," I protested. "Oh, come on," Tawny urged me playfully. "Ugh, fine. Seven, but she's really sensitive and responsive, we mesh well," I answered. I'm not sure how many of them got past me saying the number '7'. "Are you going to be home this weekend?" Leigh inquired suddenly. "Planning on it," I replied. "Well, why don't you come by Saturday night, then," Tawny suggested, "unless you are afraid of a little competition." Seeing my uncertainty, she added, "We are having our brother fraternity Alpha Kappa Alpha over for the party. The guy/girl ratio should be two-to-one so I can't promise you any time." "Oh," I shrugged. "Do you want me to bring a friend or two?" "Sure," Tawny grinned, "but make sure to keep an eye on them. The boys of AKA are pretty aggressive." "I'll make sure to only bring the grown-ups," I laughed. We were all still chuckling when we broke up for the evening. I Love Pushing Boulders Uphill "Did you sleep well?" Christina greeted me. Since I'd been Barbie-free last night I had to frown. "Thanks for asking," I shrugged. "I slept like a baby. Honestly, I'd expected a little more creativity from you, not this simplistic jack-booted thuggery. Please try to keep my interest today if you can." "Ah, the smell of burning bitch-flesh," Rio giggled, unleashing her sadomasochistic impulses. Christina didn't rise to the bait. "Let's get some breakfast, on your knees you two," she commanded. Clearly their plan for us involved attrition. During breakfast the idea was to keep us apart, but they apparently forgot we'd all graduated kindergarten. We wandered around like loss little lambs and came to our collision from different angles. My only real worry was that Iona would chicken out since she had always been the good girl. She even sold the slip and spill well. This time Hope was the recipient of our hate and she looked quite fetching covered in grits, eggs, melons, and bacon. The miraculous thing was that the kitchen let us reload. Chastity almost dodged the bullet but we nailed her pretty good as well. As we headed out for our first class, Rio and I on our knees, she turned to me grinning like a maniac. "I am so looking forward to lunch," she told me. "Really? So am I. I'm going to get the soup," I chuckled. "Oh, soup. I like soup. I may get two bowls," Rio exulted. There wasn't time to warn Rio, I had to act, so I threw myself on Rio and took Heaven's kick to the ribs myself. "Heaven!" Christina shouted, but it was too late. I hurt like hell but I was damned if I was going to show it. Rio looked up at me and rapidly put together what had happened. Before she could explode I prodded her. "I hope the croutons in the salad are extra hard," I wheezed. "Zane," Rio whispered, worried about my well-being. "Give them nothing," I winked. "We know what low-life pieces of shit they are now. Give them nothing." Rio nodded and got back on her knees. "Zane, I'm sorry," Christina said softly. I looked up her and projected my most indifferent expression. "Can we get this over with? You bore me," I sneered at Christina. She snorted and shook her head. "Take my books to class, Zane," she commanded, and I headed off. They took Rio and Iona off in another direction. I was bleeding by the time I kneeled my way to lunch. Sadly, Team Christina was vigilant so we had to settle for a few bites sitting up against a wall before a Dorm Mother directed us to separate seats. We buried her in soup and crotons for her efforts, then apologized profusely. Doctor Burns chastised and lectured us about good Christian virtues. The senile old bastard almost let us go back for seconds but a different Dorm Mother pointed out the danger just in time. The craziest thing was that they let me go to Marksmanship because it wasn't like I wanted to climb up on the water tower and take pot shots with a high powered rifle at anyone; right? "Let me bandage your knees," Hope asked me. I looked to the rest of the class who couldn't bring themselves to meet my gaze, then laughed. "What is wrong with my knees?" I questioned. She pointed out the holes in my pants and the blood still oozing out of my torn flesh. "Really. I hadn't noticed," I winced as I moved to get my gear. "You could get infected," Hope insisted. "At what point do you think I lost faith in your capacity for compassion, Hope?" I sighed. "Let's get to work. Inside this class, you are the instructor; outside of this class, you sicken me." I actually did pretty well working wind drift and range-finding during the class and Hope gave me a mild compliment on my growing proficiency. I listened but said nothing. When the rest of the group dispersed, Hope held me back. Heaven was waiting to make me crawl to her class. "That was uncalled for," Hope insisted. "We are only doing what we have to do." "The failure of your courage is only eclipsed by your lack of principles, Hope," I verbally slapped her which only made her angrier. "Maybe you can put some weights in my back pack to make yourself feel better, or would you rather sow the sidewalk with salt?" If Hope was expecting me to back down, she was sorely disappointed. "So, are you going to get revenge on me too?" she mocked me. I looked mildly amused and insulted. "Hope, you aren't worth my vengeance. You don't matter to me. You are a tool, an obstacle, and nothing more and I have things that actually matter and I need to concentrate on so if you would please get out of my way, I believe Heaven wants to show me what an inhuman beast she can be." "You have to pay for that," Heaven growled at me as I struggled along on all fours to Orienteering. "Remember this moment, Heaven, because when I break Christina, she is going to be crying out your name and you aren't going to be able to do anything to help her, and after all she's done for you," I taunted her. That earned me two sharp kicks to the ribs to add to the one I'd already had. I picked myself up and continued on our way. Orienteering was brutal and I suffered a good deal of humiliation at Heaven's hands. I quietly took it. As if that wasn't enough, Heaven walked me to my study period and Faith took me to the Dining Hall. Rio looked pretty brutal and Iona had been crying but at least they'd been bandaged up. Ms. Goodswell came up to me in the dinner line. "You need to have someone look at those wounds. You could also use a fresh pair of pants." "There is nothing wrong with my knees," I said in a bland monotone. "You are bleeding into your socks, Zane," she informed me. I looked down and nodded. "Yes, that seems to be the case. Can I get my dinner now?" I inquired calmly. "No, Zane. Go to the Infirmary and get that taken care of," Ms. Goodswell insisted. "I invoke my right to refuse medical treatment due to religious convictions," I grinned. "Zane, you could develop permanent damage," Virginia warned me. "No. You hypocrites can cripple me if you like but you aren't pinning this on me. I don't recall wanting to walk anywhere on my knees. I'm not going to quit though; if you want to get rid of me, you will have to become more inventive than this," I told her. When she didn't reply I went back to my place in line. Christina tagged me heading toward the dorm. Chastity had Rio and Faith had Iona. "What do you think we'll have for breakfast?" Rio joked. "Keep quiet," Christina cautioned us. "I'm hoping for corned beef hash covered in ketchup," I responded. "I told you to be quiet," Christina ordered. "Which one of us are you talking to?" Rio teased. "I want milk and cereal," Iona suggested. "Quiet," Faith told Iona with a hand on her shoulder. They decided that we should be getting back to our rooms to study but the elevator wouldn't be necessary; we could take the stairs, on our knees. I wasn't sure Iona could make it; she was the shortest and weakest of us. But it turned out I needn't have bothered. We opened the door to the stairwell and there stood Barbie Lynn. "I've got it from here," she told Christina and company cheerfully. The idea that Barbie Lynn was here to save me was kind of funny. "That is not how it works," Christina informed her. "No, Christina, read the Handbook. My dorm, my rules, and my rules say that if you don't belong in my dorm, you can leave, now," Barbie Lynn countered with determination. "Don't do this, Barbie Lynn; they will expel you. You are hardly bulletproof," Christina warned Barbie. "At what point did we cease being the Israelites and become the Philistines?" Barbie answered. "If you do this I'll have to report you," Christina explained. "In thirty minutes you won't be Dorm Mother. Think about your future." "I am," Barbie Lynn stated. "Do I really want or deserve a future if I do nothing now? I don't think so." There was a pause, then, "Get out." Christina's gang turned and left, Chastity last of all. "Barbie Lynn, have his legs taken care of before his pride cuts him in half," she said meaningfully. Barbie nodded, then Chastity ran to catch up with the others. "Let's get you to your rooms before they come back," Barbie Lynn urged us. "Can we take the elevator? I'm not sure I can take all these stairs," I groaned. "Baby," snorted Rio, but I noted she was the first one to hobble for the elevator. Iona drew close to me, looking for some small comfort. "What are we going to do?" she whispered to me. "Rio and I are going to tough it out; we don't have any real options. You are going to be sick tomorrow and go to the Infirmary. After that, they should leave you alone as long as you avoid us," I told her. "No," Iona responded. "I can't leave the two of you alone here." "Get over yourself," mocked Rio. "You are slowing us down. Zane and I are hardcore bad-asses and you're nothing but a dweeb." That was Rio's way of saying 'I like you.' Iona began sobbing. "I'll take care of her as long as I can," Barbie Lynn frowned as she wrapped an arm around Iona. "Thanks for everything, Barbie Lynn. Sorry for dragging you down in all of this," I told my blonde dynamite. "Ha," she laughed. "I've had more fun, felt better, in the past four days than I've felt in the past three years here." "Man, that is so pathetic," choked Rio. "If my life was so damn boring, I'd have become a shit-faced drunk by now." I think that was Rio saying 'thank you' but I wasn't sure. We made our way to our rooms and wisely settled in for the night. Around eight-thirty Barbie came to my room and escorted me to the bathroom for my own 'safety'. "Thank you. What are you going to tell your family and fianc ?" I asked. Barbie Lynn shrugged. "Can I move in with your Aunt if things don't work out?" she countered. "Sure. Do you think it will come to that?" I answered. "Well, I'm definitely not marrying Jerome, that's for sure," she grinned. "He's about as interesting as a box of rocks and he's got a tiny cock ta' boot. Lord above, all he wants to do is work in his Daddy's bank and play golf while I stay home and make babies." "Umm, Barbie Lynn, I don't see us getting married so if I, I stammered. "Lord Jesus," Barbie laughed, "if I married you I'd have to convert to Islam because I'd need at least three other wives to keep up with you. You are fun, Zane, and you've never lied to me about anything." "Barbie Lynn, I've lied to you," I admitted shyly. "What about?" she questioned. "You know those tiny little grunting noises you make between orgasms?" Barbie Lynn blushed but nodded. "Well, I don't like them; I love them. In fact, last time I rushed you through one orgasm just so I could listen to those sounds." "You are a bad man," Barbie laughed musically. "I don't believe you." "Oh, so I'm going to have to prove myself, am I?" I gasped in mock protest. "I'm counting on it," she smiled seductively back at me. "When this nuttiness is over, I'll do that," I grinned. Barbie Lynn looked suddenly sad. "Is this going to end, in a good way?" she sighed. "Five-thirty tomorrow I'm in my car and driving out of here for the weekend. I'd like you to be with me," I told her. "I can't be gone all weekend long, Zane. I'm Dorm Mother," she explained. "How about Saturday night? I've made some plans," I hinted. "Hmm, okay, but how are you going to stop them from catching you if you come back? Escaping tomorrow is going to be tough enough," she pointed out. "I'll think of something," I sighed. What that was; I had no idea. When I got to the top of the stairs after my bathroom break I noticed Chastity and Hope waiting for me. I could have said 'what do you want?' but I decided on a softer approach. "What can I do for you, the two ladies most likely to kill at a distance, this fine evening?" "We came by to see if you, Iona, and Rio were doing okay," Chastity related to me. "How's Iona? I imagine Rio was less than cooperative," I responded. "Rio told us if we came in by the door we were leaving by the window," Hope informed me. "Iona is doing okay physically but she's beaten up on the inside." "She says you threw her out of your little club," Chastity went fishing for confirmation. "Yes, she's out. I no longer give a crap what happens to her," I lied. Hope and Chastity snorted in disbelief. "She didn't tell you, did she?" Chastity questioned me. Since the answer was 'no' I kept silent. "The Chancellor instructed her to abandon you and Rio and to help the rest of us get you two expelled," Hope informed me. All I could think of was, poor Iona, stuck in that spot. "She responded with a tale of one of the early martyrs," Chastity picked up the story. "All the martyr had to do to save her life from the lions is renounce Christ and kiss the hem of Caesar's robe. The young girl responded, 'I would rather spend my last hour in the dust with the Christians, ' ', than live ten thousand more days as a Roman,' I completed the story. Sure, the story came from a hundred years after the real Caesar was dead, but who really cared? "I don't think that went over well." "I imagine a less than sterling letter was fired off to her parents," Hope suggested. "Fine," I muttered after a moment. "What?" Chastity inquired. "Chastity and Hope, I apologize for what I said earlier. I was pissed and I lashed out when you were stuck in the same fucked up situation I'm in," I admitted. "Apology accepted," Chastity grinned. "Don't make a habit of pissing me off, Zane," Hope cautioned me, "and the next one of you to come at me with a food tray gets it in the teeth." "Why did you pick Hope and me?" Chastity asked about the food trays we'd dumped on them. "I'm not saying we plotted anything but if we did, we would have created a random list for each meal. We get target one, then go to target two, and so on," I answered. "If it was randomized it would be harder for you guys to figure out who was next." "Do you have any other retaliatory actions planned out?" Hope inquired. "What do you think?" I smirked. "How did you plan all this out?" Hope persisted. "Since you are still dedicated to having us expelled, I don't feel it is prudent to tell you," I replied. I was hardly going to admit Iona set it all up, including that little trick of blanking out our call logs. "Fine. Let's get out of here, Chastity," Hope sighed. "I'll be with you in a minute," Chastity told Hope. When Hope was halfway down the stairs, Chastity turned to me with a sly grin. "How did you know I'd help you?" she whispered. "For that matter, how did you slip me the note and the key?" "I promise I'll tell you one day, Chastity," I replied. I could hardly tell her that Ms. Goodswell had slipped my message and her key into Chastity's pack. That Chastity would actually gather up the clothes that Rio, Iona, and I needed was the greater risk. She'd done it and we'd made our Wednesday night getaway for ice cream. I still wasn't sure why Virginia had known Chastity would do it but figuring it all out would be fun. It wasn't as good as sex but, well; it wasn't as good as sex. The Object is not to Die "Let me wash you," Opal requested of me as I entered the bathroom the next morning. Warning her that I was poison was pointless. I looked, smelled, and sounded like trouble. I imagine if I asked her, she'd tell me I tasted like trouble too, but I didn't want to tempt fate. "I can keep your bandages dry," she promised. Mentally, I cracked when she finished rinsing my hair. "Why are you doing this?" I had to know. "Zane, you are the only non-related male I'm going to be in contact with for the next two years. If I let you go, I'm going to lapse into homosexuality," she explained. I couldn't resist. "Does that mean you would be opposed to a three-way?" I grinned. "I don't know," she mused, "who do you have in mind?" "Brandi; she is cute and receptive," I suggested. "Good choice," Opal beamed, "she's scrumptious. Do you think she's game? Don't bother, I'll snare her in; you make sure you show up, okay?" Up until this point in time I'd been fooling around but I had the distinct impression that Opal wasn't. "Let me guess; you are on the Soccer team," I chuckled. "Striker," Opal responded. "I should have known; you have that killer instinct," I sighed knowingly. "I know what I want and I go for it," she smiled as she closed with me and stroked my member. It was to our immense mutual disappointment that we simply didn't have the time to take it any further. I could appreciate Barbie Lynn throwing herself under the proverbial bus for us but I really wish she didn't look so sexy doing it. She stood with Rio, Iona, and me as we walked out of the dorm toward Christina and company. Rio and I exchanged conspiratorial glances with Iona. "I'm hoping for oatmeal," Rio quipped. "I'm betting on pancakes and syrup," I replied. "Oh, hot syrup," mused Iona. "I like syrup. It turns pancakes into fly paper." We walked up to our tormentors and held out our arms for their book bags, which they dutifully handed over. As we got ready to assume our kneeling position, Christina cleared her throat. "What are you doing?" Christina commented dryly. Seeing our confusion, she sniffed derisively, then added, "I haven't got all day." With that, she turned and walked off at a good clip we had to jog to keep up with. We hobbled into the Dining Hall without a word being said but when we got into the food line, Rio broke the spell. "Does this mean we don't dump food on them?" she whispered. "They've tossed us an olive branch so we shouldn't shower them with defoliant just yet," I suggested. "We need to know what they are up to," Iona added. That was the thing none of us had an answer to so we were served and went searching for someplace to sit. Cappadocia, Captain Willie, and another Karate teammate named Evangeline caught sight of us and chose that moment to rise and take their trays away, leaving us three adjacent seats. We leapt on them in an instant since another part of the Enemy's plan was to keep us isolated from one another. "I hate to rain on our parade but Queen Christina at six o'clock," Rio muttered. "Phone," Christina demanded of Iona. "We are in the Dining Hall," Rio spat, "you can't demand shit from us." "Watch your language, felon," Christina responded drolly. "It is Friday, Christina, in case you forgot. Your time is running out," I warned Christina that her time to make an apology to Rio was coming to an end. She looked haughtily down her nose at me. "Here you go," Iona said meekly. She had a point; even if we won here, Christina would jump us the moment we left the sanctuary of the Dining Hall. Christina took the phone and typed a message in, then sent it before returning it to Iona. Without explanation the Queen strutted away. "What was that about?" Rio muttered to Iona who was checking her text log. "She put Zane back on the market," Iona whispered in disbelief. "What the fuck!" Rio squeaked, trying to keep her shock from echoing across the hall. I looked around and saw phones ringing and the ripple of the word spreading out as girls looked my way. "What do we do, Zane?" Iona asked. I had to think that over and a grin slowly creased my face. "Give me ten names: Juniors and seniors only," I smiled. That would be part of my party list. "How is that going to help us get those bitches?" Rio asked. "Rio, living well is the best revenge, and I finally figured out how we are going to live well," I explained. My two companions didn't get it yet but Iona was busy getting my names. "What do I do with the list?" Iona asked. "Ask them to my party," I winked and the lights came on. "Sweet!" gloated Rio, "but how are we going to get away with it? The Chancellor is going to be watching us like a hawk." "Do you trust me?" I asked Rio and Iona. Iona nodded but Rio looked incredulous. "Why in the hell should I trust you, Jungle Boy?" Rio taunted me. "Because the other option has you crying tears of loneliness into your pillow tomorrow night, Arizona," I teased right back. Rio was from Arizona in the same way I was from the jungles of Thailand. Breakfast was drawing to a close so I had to make my move. When Christina and crew put their trays up I followed them quickly outside. "Glutton for punishment?" Hope questioned as I finished my approach. "I need a moment alone with Christina," I responded. Heaven snarled at me; very becoming. "So, I no longer bore you?" Christina threw my earlier words back in my face. "I need a favor and it will help me with your demise," I grinned because I knew I had her; the girl couldn't stand not knowing what I was up to, or so I prayed. Christina shrugged her indifference but motioned for me to follow her off to the side, away from the others. "So, after I've already done you two favors today, what else do you want of me?" she asked. I had to admit that she was no longer making me crawl on my knees and she'd freed me up for gentler hands, but I had my needs. "I want you to go to an off-campus party with me tomorrow night," I beamed hopefully. Christina studied me, clearly looking for my deceptive angle, but when none became evident, a smile slowly forced its way across her lips. "Okay, Zane, I give up. What is the catch?" Christina chuckled. "There is a Sorority party at my neighbor's house. They are inviting a fraternity over and I imagine a few people will crash. I've been invited and I was thinking we could bring around twenty of our girls for a fun night out," I explained. "Zane, we are a Christian Girls school; we don't do the whole partying, drinking, and spending time with strange boys thing," she lectured me. "You'll have fun," I promised her. "An hour ago you hated me," she pointed out. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?" "Sure, I hated you an hour ago, but that was then and I'm not going to waste my time fighting past battles. Besides, you did the right thing, though you took your time doing it," I answered. "Also, who in the Administration would I work for? I certainly wouldn't go outside the school." "Yet you are still going after me about Rio," Christina said. "That has to do with how you treat people, not what you did in the past," I corrected her. "If I leave it alone you will continue to treat people that don't conform to your world view like dirt." "You aren't going to win, Zane, but I tell you what; drop this silly vendetta and I'll consider going to that party," she offered. "Oh, I'll keep my vendetta and see you at the party anyway," I laughed which made Christina cross. "What makes you think that?" she replied through narrowed eyes. "You are fearless, hungry for knowledge, and you never pass up a challenge where there is even a remote chance of success. You won't go for me; you will go because this is something you can do and do well, and you can't pass up an opportunity to shine," I pointed out. "So you are attempting to flatter me with a fictitious character assessment," she chided in return. Busted! "You are not calling me a liar," I countered. We locked gazes for a few seconds. "I wish you were older," she commented. "Younger means I have more stamina," I offered. "Older means more experience, more to offer, and greater competition," she volleyed. "Younger means you can teach them more, less baggage, and a stronger desire to catch their quarry," I grinned. "Is that what I am to you; quarry?" Christina questioned me. "No. You are the girl I'm going to marry," I stated matter of factly before turning and running for Assembly. As it was, we were on the verge of being late, though Rio and Iona saved me a seat. Rio tried to get me to tell her what happened but I warned her to silence with the fey light in my gaze. When we got out a senior named Janice snatched me up. Her trick was dueling Bible verses. Sometimes I don't get chicks at all but I guess she thought she was doing my soul some good. The crew was waiting at my car when I was preparing to make my exit from campus. Christina was sitting on the hood of my car when I showed up. She pushed up and met me a few steps forward. "We've discussed it and we'll go," she told me, "but don't think this means even remotely that I'll ever marry you." By the looks on their faces this was the first her girl posse had heard about my intentions. "Oh, you will marry me," I said, feeling terribly self-assured. "I won't settle for anyone less and neither will you." Christina smirked but there was this light in her eyes. Chastity laughed while Faith and Hope looked stunned. Heaven looked pole-axed. I got in my car and rolled out for the short drive home. It was Friday night and I still had a lot to do before Saturday's party. To say that the situation with Aunt Jill at home was awkward would have been an understatement. Last Monday before I met with the Chancellor, Jill got a call from the university telling her that she'd sent a boy to a girl's school. I imagine it was some consolation that she hadn't bragged to our church about where I was going to school yet. "So, umm, Jill began as we sat down to eat dinner, "your Spiritual Advisor tells me you are making great strides in your Christian education. She also says you are well-received by your fellow students and that they don't hold your, condition against you." "Actually, several girls have shown great concern over my well-being," I expressed. "A few have told me they want to stop by the house tomorrow night and make sure I'm okay," I added. I could see Jill balk. "By that, I mean that twenty of them want to come over." The sheer number first worried, then impressed her. Surely she must be thinking that I'd be safe with so many women around. "That's good news, Zane. I was worried that you would be a slave to your baser nature but I see Jesus Christ has provided you with a new direction," Jill smiled lovingly. I decided not to tell her that the tools Christ had chosen were young ladies like Barbie Lynn, Rio, Iona, Chastity, and Opal, and I definitely knew better than to tell her about the party we would all be going to. "Speaking of new directions, I notice you are still wearing the clothes the young ladies next door picked out for you," I re-directed the conversation. Jill looked down at her plate for a minute. "I bought some of my old styles Monday but when I wore them Tuesday, a co-worker asked me if there had been a death in the family. What a horrid thing to say," she groaned. "Have you garnered any male attention?" I inquired, deeply curious. "Nothing you need worry about," Jill turned away, "I have one man in my life and you're more than enough for me to handle." "Jill, if you like I could come home one or two days a week for dinner; campus is so close," I offered, "and I'm sure my Dorm Mother won't mind." Jill looked up and studied me. "That would be nice, Zane. I know we didn't get off to a good start here but I'm willing to work at it if you are," she stated. "Kathryn has offered to come out here for a few weeks once harvest is done," Jill continued. I didn't know Kathryn, Jill's older sister, except for the few pictures I'd seen. I knew she'd been the first woman Uncle Tim was interested in but she ended up marrying a church elder thirty years her senior. She was like Jill, except thirty-seven years of age and a bit thicker. She worked on the family farm in Oregon doing, well, farmer shit. Jill said we could expect her the first week in November so we had better get the guest bedrooms ready for the visit. We caught a movie on TV, drank some wine, and talked about campus, classes and such. Jill had gone to an open university were Christian students were penalized for their beliefs (so she felt) and was fascinated with the idea of a place where Christian women alone sat in judgment of other Christian women. I pledged then and there to never put Rio and Jill alone in the same room together because I'd surely end up an orphan. In the morning, Jill and I picked up the place (Jill was a haphazard housekeeper), did some laundry, and went grocery shopping. In the checkout line I said something inane and Jill gave me an exaggerated giggle that I was becoming all too familiar with. It was the one a woman gives to a man when they think the man wants to be found amusing. It is kind of endearing when it comes from a teenage girl but a bit creepy when it comes from your female guardian. Jill really needed a man in her life but I was at a loss as to how to make it happen. Unfortunately, I had things to do after we ate lunch, namely going back to school to pick up Rio and Iona for a shopping trip. Rio had been stripped of all her 'party-wear' when her parents shipped her here and Iona never had anything like it at all. "Barbie Lynn wanted to see you in your room," Rio grumbled when Iona and I showed up in her abode. I had no idea what that was about so I left Iona in Rio's room and headed to the Solarium on my own. When I got to the top of the stairs Barbie's gaze met mine from my bed where she was sitting. She glanced past me to see if I brought company. "Are we alone?" she purred. I nodded in agreement, at which point Barbie Lynn sat up on the bed on her knees facing away from me. Slowly, looking over her shoulder, she hiked up her skirt until her bare-naked bum was revealed to me. "I've missed you," she moaned, then she began rubbing her right ass cheek and added, "We've both missed you." I stalked toward her, barely able to restrain the desire to pounce on her proffered posterior. Barbie grinned lustfully, went down to her hands and, as I was taking my pants and underwear off, she collapsed further onto her elbows, pushing her ass out even more. I started to caress her thighs, flank, and back, planting kisses along the way, when I noticed her ass crack and anus was slick with lubricant. "No foreplay; just fuck me," Barbie Lynn demanded with a voice heavy with need. I aimed my cock to her anus and slowly pushed in. Barbie gave a sharp intake of breath as her resistance was overcome, followed by this deep, animalistic vocalization of pleasure. Her breathing came in sharper and sharper gasps as I pushed steadily in until I was totally encased by her flesh. I put my weight on her back, reaching around and fondling her breasts through her shirt, no bra which, with Barbie's cleavage, was erotic and impractical yet wonderful to the touch. Our bodies synchronized into some really violent, ravenous sex when Barbie looked over her shoulder at me. "So, you are going to marry Christina?" she panted. I couldn't read her emotional state. "Yes, in about three or four years," I answered. "What about me, about us?" she whimpered as her passion began slipping her control. "You are a great friend, Barbie Lynn, but I don't love you. Is this going to be a problem?" I breathed heavily. "No," she rasped with a smile on her lips and eyes shut, "I wouldn't give up our time together for anything. Okay, it hurts a little, knowing I'm going to lose you one day." "We'll never lose what we have right now," I grunted as Barbie began to tremble against me. Her anal muscles began to squeeze and contort around me. Eyes squinted, she gave me a wicked little smile and I rewarded her with a sharp slap to the ass. Barbie hopped up but her fists kept clenching my sheets. "Oh, Zane," she gasped. I spanked her two more times hard and Barbie Lynn cried out, "Lord Jesus!" she called out in her own inimical way as the first major tremor grabbed her body. I hammered away for three more strokes when her heat and passion overcame me and I erupted into her ass. Barbie pushed up and back against me for over a minute before we finally collapsed on the bed, panting and sweating profusely. We lay there, young and vital, soaking up each other's warmth until Barbie Lynn wiggled her ass against me and sighed contentedly. "You're still hard," she murmured. "Whose fault is that, you vixen?" I teased her between deep breaths. "Don't you need to go shopping?" she titillated back. "Do I look like I want to go shopping?" I responded with both words and a jab with my cock. "Damn, oh damn," she moaned, as she stroked my cock with anal contractions. "Okay, one more time, then you have to go," she whimpered lustfully. "Two fucking hours!" Rio spat. "Jesus Christ, man, can she still walk?" Okay, so we did it more than one more time, I must confess, but I wasn't telling Rio that. "She was asleep when I left her," I stated, "but I think she's ambulatory." Iona blushed which reminded me that I still owed her a full-body hot oil massage. "Were you ever not the Hammer of God?" Rio questioned me about my sexual prowess. "Well," I chuckled, "my first sexual encounter, from stripping off our clothes to my shot, was less than a minute. I got one stroke in, pulled out too far, and ejaculated

Brock Morgan // September 28, 2025

Mark Lohman // September 21, 2025

In this episode of The Naked Gospel Podcast, Nick Liberto and Wailer tackle one of the boldest claims you'll ever hear: great sex could actually save the world. They unpack why God's design for intimacy is about so much more than pleasure; it's about discipleship, family legacy, and cultural transformation. From biblical insights to historical lessons from the fall of Rome, this conversation reframes sex as central to both marriage and mission.Along the way, they confront the lies the church has inherited, expose how silence has crippled generations, and paint a compelling vision of what happens when couples embrace sex as holy, purposeful, and deeply joyful. Whether you're single, married, or raising kids, this episode will challenge how you think about intimacy and inspire you to see it as one of God's greatest gifts for personal and global renewal.Support the show

BE WARNED: It's LuAnna, and this podcast contains honest, upfront opinions, rants, bants and general explicit content. But you know you love it! It's time to get TOTALLY EXTRA. Extra chat, extra rants, extra bants, extra stories, nonsense and more.On this week's Totally Extra: Egbert is back for a rant reply, a yoghurt in labour, a petty polly over a bottle brush, sleeping with an ex's aussie cousin, and DEREK IS EATING PUSSY. Remember, if you want to get in touch you can:Email us at luanna@everythingluanna.com OR drop us a WhatsApp on 07745 266947Please review Global's Privacy Policy: https://global.com/legal/privacy-policy/

Ben Derrick and Roane Hunter host the "Sex God and Chaos" podcast, discussing addiction and recovery. They are joined by Troy Haas, a guest speaker at a men's coaching weekend at Ebenezer Place. Troy shares his journey with addiction to sex, food, and substances, and how his life transformed after meeting Jesus in prison. He emphasizes the importance of community and vulnerability in overcoming addiction, using the story of Jesus and Lazarus to illustrate how relationships can help remove "grave clothes" and achieve true freedom. Troy also discusses his work with Hope Quest, an organization that helps men and their families find freedom from addiction.To learn more about the Sex, God, & Chaos team, click the link below: www.sexgodchaos.com Looking for help? Book an appointment with LifeWorks Counseling today: www.lifeworks.ms You can purchase your copy of Sex, God, & Chaos here: www.amazon.com

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

Chapter 1 What's Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell"Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith" is a book by Rob Bell that challenges traditional views of Christianity and encourages readers to rethink their faith in a modern context. Released in 2005, it combines personal anecdotes, biblical reflection, and cultural observations. Bell uses the metaphor of a velvet Elvis painting to illustrate how spirituality can be vibrant and flexible, rather than rigid and outdated. Key themes include the importance of questioning beliefs, the significance of community, and the notion that faith should adapt to new insights and experiences. Bell emphasizes the transformative power of love and grace, urging Christians to engage authentically with their beliefs and the world around them. The book has sparked discussions and debates within Christian circles, highlighting its impact on contemporary faith discussions.Chapter 2 Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell Summary"Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith" by Rob Bell is a book that explores the nature of faith, spirituality, and the way religious concepts can be reshaped for contemporary understanding. Here's a summary of its key themes and ideas:Metaphor of the Velvet Elvis: The title refers to a velvet painting of Elvis Presley that Bell encountered. He uses this metaphor to illustrate how faith can be flexible and must be continually refreshed. Just as a painting can be altered, so can our understanding of spiritual truths.Reimagination of Christian Faith: Bell encourages readers to move beyond rigid beliefs and embrace a more dynamic, questioning faith. He argues that faith should be a journey of discovery rather than a set of dogmas to adhere to.Emphasis on Love over Judgment: One of the central themes of the book is that love should be the foundation of Christian faith rather than judgment or exclusion. Bell emphasizes the inclusive nature of Jesus' message, advocating for acceptance and love towards all individuals.Reevaluation of Biblical Texts: Bell suggests that traditional interpretations of the Bible can be limiting and encourages readers to rethink their understanding of Scripture in light of historical context and personal experience.Community and Relationships: The book highlights the importance of community in faith. Bell believes that engaging with others in meaningful relationships is crucial for spiritual growth and understanding.Questioning Certainty: Bell challenges the need for certainty in faith, suggesting that doubt can lead to deeper understanding and exploration. He encourages embracing questions and uncertainties as a vital part of the spiritual journey.The Role of Experience: Personal experience and encounter with the divine are emphasized as integral aspects of faith. Bell advocates for a faith that is lived out in everyday life, rather than solely confined to doctrine.In summary, "Velvet Elvis" invites readers to rethink their approach to Christianity, advocating for a more open, loving, and inquiry-driven faith that evolves with the individual's experiences and insights.Chapter 3 Velvet Elvis AuthorRob Bell is an American author, speaker, and former pastor known for his innovative and often controversial approach to Christianity. He was born on August 23, 1970, and gained prominence in the early 2000s as the founder of the Mars Hill Bible Church in Grandville, Michigan. Velvet ElvisPublished: "Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith" was released in 2005. The book explores themes of faith, doubt, and the evolving nature of spirituality in modern society. Other Books by Rob BellRob Bell has written several other influential books, including:Sex God (2007) Examines the relationship between sexuality and spirituality.Jesus Wants to Save Christians (2008) Offers perspectives on Jesus' message and its...

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

In a culture filled with conflicting messages about sexuality, it's easy to feel lost, confused, or pressured to compromise. Yet, God has a beautiful and intentional design for our sexuality—one that reflects His love, holiness, and purpose for our lives. In the Real Sex message series from Preaching Minister Gordon Dabbs, Ph.D., we'll explore biblical truths about identity, intimacy, purity, and grace, discovering the Lord's beautiful design for sexuality. Whether you're single, married, or somewhere in between, join us as we align our hearts and minds with God's wisdom.Subscribe to PRESTONCREST - with Gordon Dabbs on Soundwise

Welcome to Divine Savior Church in Doral, FLMessage: Sex: God's Amazing DesignSeries: TabooService Host: Pastor Steve MullerWe're going to talk about sex! But it's not going to be a shameful, embarrassing conversation. God loves sex. He created it and designed it for our enjoyment. He loves it when we enjoy sex the way he designed it. But good sex takes work. It's not quite as movies and TV and porn represent it. Sex is a beautiful gift from God that can bring amazing blessings, but its power can also bring harm and pain when misused. Let's learn about God's beautiful gift of sex!Support the showMoved to give? http://dschurch.link/givedoralFor more info about our church please visit our website: https://divinesaviorchurch.com/dscdor/

In this message from Song of Songs Chapter 4, Patrick Crawford explores God's design for marriage and intimacy.//NEXT STEPS: http://rockcity.churchPRAYER REQUESTS: https://rockcitychurch.tv/careGIVE: https://rockcitychurch.tv/give// Rock City Church has multiple locations throughout Columbus, Ohio. Whether you're spiritually restless, new at discovering who God is or you are a veteran of the faith, you are welcome here! //WEBSITE: https://rockcitychurch.tvFACEBOOK: https://facebook.com/rockcitychurchINSTAGRAM: https://instagram.com/rockcitychurch

We're going to talk about sex! But it's not going to be a shameful, embarrassing conversation. God loves sex. He created it and designed it for our enjoyment. He loves it when we enjoy sex the way he designed it. But good sex takes work. It's not quite as movies and TV and porn represent it. Sex is a beautiful gift from God that can bring amazing blessings, but its power can also bring harm and pain when misused. Let's learn about God's beautiful gift of sex!Support the show

We're going to talk about sex! But it's not going to be a shameful, embarrassing conversation. God loves sex. He created it and designed it for our enjoyment. He loves it when we enjoy sex the way he designed it. But good sex takes work. It's not quite as movies and TV and porn represent it. Sex is a beautiful gift from God that can bring amazing blessings, but its power can also bring harm and pain when misused. Let's learn about God's beautiful gift of sex!Support the show~ Changing lives with Jesus! Facebook | YouTubeInstagram @dscsienna

Es ist dieses eine berühmte Lick von „Need You Tonight“, das heute noch allgegenwärtig ist und den meisten Menschen ins Gedächtnis kommt, wenn sie an INXS denken. Unzählige andere kennen dieses Lick, obwohl sie gar nicht wissen, wer die Band dahinter ist. „Need You Tonight“ hat den Test der Zeit bestanden. Irgendwie ungerecht. Denn INXS waren mehr als das, sie waren eine der größten Bands der 80er Jahre. Das sagen nicht nur Zeitzeugen, das belegt ihre unglaubliche Discographie: „Original Sin“, „What You Need“, „Mystify“, „Never Tear Us Apart“, „Suicide Blonde“, „Beautiful Girl“ – auf ihren Best Ofs ist jeder Hit ein Hit. Hinter dem Pop-Funk-Rock-Gemisch steckte eine sehr tighte spielende Band, mit Andrew Farriss ein genialer Komponist und natürlich ein herausragender Frontmann. Michael Hutchence – fantastischer Sänger, mystifying Rebel, Sex God, der Jim Morrison seiner Generation. Und ein unglaublich sympathischer Typ, ehe ein Schicksalsschlag in die Fresse und eine verzwickte Beziehungskonstellation alles veränderte. In Episode #101INXS erzählen wir die Geschichte der Band mit Focus auf Michael Hutchence nach, der zusammen mit Gitarrist Tim Farriss auch selber zu Wort kommt. Zu Gast ist zum zweiten Mal Musikjournalist Thorsten Sutter, der die beiden damals getroffen hat und die Band auch noch live erlebt hat.

This conversation has been highly anticipated from friends, clients, and many of you online who have asked questions about my faith and these topics. This is the beginning of a new "rebrand" of the podcast, widening the topic of discussion from just relationships, to include the relationship with God and discussing biblical truths and principals in a wide variety of topics and questions about how things fit into your walk with Jesus - in a non religious context. If you have any questions, leave them in the comments below and we will answer in the next episode

01/26/25 The Good Fight: Sex - God's Perfect Design Part 2 Speaker: Dusty Taylor Speaker: Tammi Taylor

01/19/25 The Good Fight: Sex - God's Perfect Design Part 1 Speaker - Dusty Taylor Speaker - Tammi Taylor

Dr. Andrew Newberg is a neuroscientist and pioneer in neurotheology, exploring the relationship between brain function and spiritual experiences. As Director of Research at the Marcus Institute of Integrative Health and a physician at Jefferson University Hospital, he has conducted extensive brain imaging studies on practices like prayer, meditation, and rituals. Board-certified in internal and nuclear medicine, Dr. Newberg has published over 250 peer-reviewed articles and 14 books, with his work featured in major media outlets and programs like "Dr. Oz" and "Good Morning America." Renowned globally, he was named among the "30 Most Influential Neuroscientists Alive Today."In this episode, Dr. Andrew Newberg provides an in-depth overview of neurotheology, explaining how it bridges science and spirituality to address critical questions about consciousness and the human experience. He discusses the biological underpinnings of religious and mystical experiences, the interplay between rituals and mating behaviors, and the neurological parallels between spiritual ecstasy and sexual bliss. His research on integrative medicine underscores the value of combining traditional medical practices with lifestyle changes and alternative therapies. Andrew also addresses the societal divisions arising from differing belief systems and proposes that understanding the neurological basis of our connections and differences can foster greater unity. His insights draw from decades of research, personal curiosity, and a desire to help people navigate the complexities of spirituality and health. Defining Neurotheology and Integrative Medicine: neurotheology is the study of the relationship between the brain and spirituality, it's a two-way approach + integrative medicine is a holistic approach combining traditional medicine with alternative practices (3:54)The Role of Stress and Lifestyle in Health: how stress impacts health + the connection between mental and physical well-being + the importance of personalized, integrative healthcare (9:15)Andrew's Early Curiosity About Reality: Andrew reflects on his childhood questions about religion, reality, and consciousness, which led to his interest in neuroscience and philosophy (13:58)Sex, God, and the Brain: Exploring Connections: the biological and neurological overlap between religious, spiritual, and sexual experiences, including findings from orgasmic meditation studies. (24:47)The Interplay of Rituals, Spirituality, and Biology: the evolution of rituals, their grounding effects + their connections to both human and animal mating behaviors + their role in spirituality (31:21)Patriarchy, Religion, and the Separation of Sex and Spirituality: how patriarchal structures have historically separated sexuality from spirituality + the potential for reconnecting these elements (41:38)Rituals as Neutral Technologies: Dr. Newberg describes rituals as tools that can be used for both positive and negative purposes, illustrating their power to shape beliefs and behaviors (47:44)The Challenges of Evolving Beliefs and Societal Divisions: how ancient brain processes struggle with modern complexities + the importance of openness to alternative perspectives to bridge societal divides (49:06) Rapid Fast Round (53:44) Connect with Andrew Newberg:WebsiteInstagramGet Andrew's books! Let's talk Connect:Instagram This podcast is produced by Ginni Media

Turns out the answers were here all along, and spoiler alert, you might not like what the real answer is. Luckily, Brendan hashes it all out with the fantastic Dr. Andrew Newberg, neuroscientist and author of How God Changes Your Brain and Sex, God, and the Brain.The two magnificently toe the line of science and spirituality and discuss:If you can transcend your brain wiring using spirituality.Practical tips for rewiring your mind.Why sex mirrors our relationship with God.The surprising conclusion to Dr. Newberg's search for answers.And Brendan takes a swing at updating some Bible verses.RESOURCESDr. Andrew NewbergSex, God, and the Brain Dr. Andrew Newberg on the Mel Robbins PodcastThe Hottest Brain of All-Time ClairvoyagingLauren & Frank explore esotericism, intuition, psychic growth, healing, and bad jokes.Listen on: Apple Podcasts SpotifySupport the show

Patching things up with Yasmin  and  Nikita plus complications. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Strength is equal parts Body and the Mind, but true strength comes from a relentless Spirit.” (Late Saturday Morning) "Why is she here?" Yasmin asked me, giving a nod toward Buffy. Buffy was a good ten meters away, technically fulfilling her duty as my bodyguard. Yasmin had agreed to meet me at a park. "Her name is Buffy Dubois and she's my bodyguard for the weekend," I explained. "At least I'm back at my apartment." "What happens with her if you don't go back to work Monday?" Yasmin inquired. "Does your 'bodyguard' kill you?" "Nah, not Buffy," I gave a lop-sided grin. "My co-workers believe in overkill. I bet they'll send at least three to make it nice, swift and quiet." "Why do you joke about this?" Yasmin studied me. "As opposed to what?" I chuckled. "Lashing out is futile. Running isn't much better. I chose to fight when I must, love when I can and laugh when I should be crying." "Do you think they will come after me?" she murmured. What Yasmin really wanted to know was if her 3-year old son was in danger. From everything I'd learned and seen about Yasmin, she was tough as nails. I had given this some serious thought. I couldn't read Katrina's, or Hayden's minds, so I had to go on my limited experience. Yasmin had seen and heard a great deal yet Elsa let her walk away, and that had definitely been Elsa's doing. Elsa was the worst kind of racial Supremacist; the benevolent one. She didn't base her status on some pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. She based it on the feats of her ancestors, the training she had endured and the devotion she and her sisters dedicated to their craft; violence. She was better than the rest of humanity because she could kill us if she desired and take what she wanted. We had what we had, even our lives, because she allowed it and she had no orders to the contrary. That was her generosity; her benevolent act. "Might," I sighed. "If I fuck up my balancing act, they might use you to hurt me, or as an object lesson." Yasmin's face clouded with anger. "Why did you invite me over if you thought things would develop this way?" Yasmin glared. "Not being insane, I cannot fathom the minds of the insane," I reasoned. "As soon as I find a way around one challenge, they throw up something new. I certainly didn't know there was a 'members only' facility along with a gym for the rest of us peons." She looked down at her hands. "They really are some kind of crazy cult," she muttered. She sighed. "You can't get out and now they know I exist; this is screwed up. What are we going to do?" She could be referring to herself and her son, or herself and me. "I've got some money," I said. "A few thousand. I can get you plane tickets and you two can take off somewhere safer than here." "You are a real man," Yasmin slowly smiled. What? Sensing my confusion. "You take responsibility for your actions, protect the weak and those in need, and you are brave in the face of pain and adversity. Where I come from, that is the definition of a man." "Funny; where I come from that is the definition of bad Hollywood scriptwriting," I grinned. "Ha," she laughed. She'd decided to stick around and fuck me despite the specter of eminent death. She was not callous to the fate of her child. Far from it. The only ally she had in this fight was me. She'd beat the fuck out of her husband with a bullet in her shoulder. When surrounded by hostile Amazons she still struggled to get to my side. "What about your Jason Statham?" she prodded. "He's English. Besides, I prefer Chiaki Kuriyama," I eyebrow pumped. "There is something about a chick with cast-iron balls." "Who?" Yasmin searched her memories. "Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill Volume 1," I informed her. Yasmin thought that over. "That girl was clearly insane!" she thumped my chest. "Believe me, female mental health issues have never stopped me in the past," I shrugged. "I'm beginning to think you have low standards," Yasmin smirked. "That implies you think more of me than most women who actually know me," I snorted. "Let's go get something to eat. There is a place that serves authentic Acarajé and Vatapá close by," Yasmin stood and took my hand. I went with her. "So, what are those things you mentioned?" I asked. "You'll have to wait and find out. I owe you a few dozen surprises after what you've put me through," she teased. After a few seconds, I started laughing. Yasmin was confused. "As bad as it is going to be for me, think how rough it is going to be on Buffy," I chuckled. "As far as I know, she doesn't even speak Portuguese, much less traveled to Brazil." The restaurant taught me a few things. Yasmin was a regular, the men knew her and were afraid of her. A little bit of eye-ball psychology taught me that Yasmin was apparently a one woman domestic abuse arbitrator. Translation: if you were a man who hit your wife, or girlfriend, she pointed you to the closest Emergency Room after she was done with you. In Brazil, men could use the 'machismo' defense; basically, the bitch had it coming because she threatened my manhood. In Yasmin's New York City, machismo worked a 'little' differently. Essentially, there wasn't a 'straight' Brazilian man alive who would admit that Yasmin, a woman, had beat the ever-living Hell out of them. The Brazilian ladies who stopped by introduced me to another quaint Yasmin term. It was called 'parroting'. Parroting was what happened when some asshole became a real, repeat problem. Yasmin dragged them to the roof of whatever building she found the dumbass in and threw him off; technically aiming for the closest dumpster. The men often flapped and squawked like parrots as the plummeted down, thus the term. Women were stopping by because I appeared to be an aberration; a man on a date with Yasmin. Best of all, 80% of the conversation in a language I didn't know. The first serious question thus caught me out of the blue. "Do you date many women?" one sultry number purred. "I'm not sure I would say 'many'," responded after some feigned concentration. "I only date women from Manhattan; and the Tri-State Area; pretty much the East Coast; and the Ohio Valley and the Mississippi Valley. I should include the Deep South; okay, maybe every women this side of the Rockies; and the West Coast; Hawaii and Alaska would be a change of pace as well." "I've met some nice Asian girls," I continued to muse, "and South America is looking real promising at the moment. At this point," I looked over the small clique of women hanging about, "ignoring Africa, Europe, India and the Middle East would be short-sighted." "Do you fuck as good as you exaggerate, (along with some pet name I didn't know)?" the waitress asked. I could so do her. "No," I sighed. "I'm a virgin boy fresh out of Catholic School and have never known the intimate touch of a woman." For a second, they all wanted to believe that. Guys aren't the only ones who want to 'break in' a virgin, believe me. I've used the 'I'm a nervous virgin uncertain if I want to attempt sex' mystique more than once. It is a win-win. Sexually under-confident women know they won't be judged against any other women and when the sex becomes stellar, they think they are great teachers so they become more willing to experiment. After all, if they get it wrong, I; the young virgin; won't know the difference. Now, it is not that I always lie. It is just that the truth doesn't normally get me what I want. As an example, if a girl is terrible at giving a blowjob; don't tell her that. Tell her she's doing fine, but maybe this (a technique you know works) might feel different (i.e. better/less painful). Sure, I lied to her. Instead of making her upset and not want to continue in the art of fellatio, she learned a valuable lesson and will not only make me happy, she'll make happy every other man she is with later. Others can keep their slavish devotion to honesty. I'd rather dispense happiness. Besides, I'll give them other reasons to be pissed with me soon enough. "Hardly," Yasmin laughed. "I imagine the closest you've come to religion is thanking God when you've discovered your date had a horny sister and was willing to share." "Wow; break room talk much," I had the decency to appear embarrassed. "Why yes," Yasmin smirked. "Ms. Reichmann was very expressive in her recounting of your bedroom antics with her and her sister after the sister's date passed out." "To be fair, I hadn't had sex all day and I was kind of wound up," I offered up. "Do you like toying with women's affections?" my original questioner asked. "Wha; wait," I frowned. "You think I'm going out with Yasmin because I want to have sex with her?" Of course I was. "She's interesting and we both practice Brazilian jujutsu." "Why would I hunt down a studio when I found a perfectly good practitioner on the job? Plus, my work place had the sparring mats," I explained. Remember, when lying, tell a lie your audience wants to believe. Yasmin was a feminine titan, standing alone (with her son) against a hostile male world. The women around me counted on that. Dating a hot, physically fit hunk for the purpose of sexual gratification was totally realistic. Dating me because I knew her martial arts style was far less believable, but made them happier, so they went with option B; the workout buddy. "The truth must be like gold to you," Yasmin snickered. "It is so valuable, you hardly ever use it." She looked at her buddies. "I have wrestled him to the mat and he was VERY interested." "Yasmin, that wasn't me hard. When aroused, I'm much bigger," I pleaded. "Liar," she smacked me in the bicep. "I need to take care of something. Don't run off with him," she told the girls; in English; for my benefit. Yasmin left our small table and headed for Buffy who was leaning against the wall right inside the doorway. I couldn't overhear what they were saying. Buffy smiled, nodded and took a table. A minute later, Yasmin had ordered food for Buffy then came back my way. "Is that your girlfriend?" my waitress asked. Why she wasn't working wasn't clear to me. "No, she's his bodyguard," Yasmin interrupted. "Yes, she is," I countered half a second later. I looked at Yasmin. "You know that woman who beat me into the ground?" I met Yasmin's gaze. She nodded. "Well, she was giving Buffy crap for all kinds of reason; only peripherally for befriending me. I didn't have sex with her to get back at that lady. I did it because she needed me and I needed her. After this, we can't engage in intercourse for; 71 days. It's complicated." "Sex with you is some sort of gift?" another one taunted. "Absolutely," I grinned. "Ask every other woman I've been with. Hell, they love me so much, when we break up they normally take some sort of weapon to me, books being the most popular, but I've been shot at, stabbed, punched, slapped and wracked too." There was a moment of silence. Yasmin had her own war story that was well known. "I've seen him naked," Yasmin's smile cut through the tension. "He has the scars to prove it." "You peeked when we were changing?" I gasped. I wasn't really all that surprised. "Yes," she snickered. "They only have Women's changing rooms where Cáel works," she related to the other ladies. The conversation may have flipped back to Portuguese yet the words were definitely descriptive. Either that, or my penis had slipped passed my zipper and the buttons on my shirt had burst off exposing my broad chest and rock hard abs. Yasmin looked at me and said, "É o meu P.A." The girls all laughed. "Anyone going to clue me in on the joke?" I requested. By mutual consensus, they agreed not to; bitches. For a while, this man had been yelling from the kitchen. If finally dawned on me, and our waitress, the cook had been calling her to pick up her orders. I could have ignored her short denim skirt and seductive sway of the hips, but that would have been disingenuous. Besides, in some cultures, if your 'man' wasn't noticing the women around you, he was somewhat less of a man. I unleashed my inner 'machismo' and oinked. Yasmin shoved me while laughing. The other women found my being distracted amusing as well. I could really get used to Brazilian culture especially when that included Brazilian women. After lunch, we picked up Buffy on the way out. Buffy 'thanked' Yasmin; in Portuguese. Mother-fucker. That was so unfair. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a bad situation better; or worse, I asked Buffy what 'É o meu P.A.' meant. Buffy said something to Yasmin in Portuguese. Yasmin responded. They both laughed; bitches. "It is a term of endearment," Buffy assured me. Sure it was. That is why neither one would tell me what it meant; I repeat yet again; bitches. [FYI: 'É o meu P.A.' (P.A. stands for Pinto Amigo) literally means 'my friend Penis (or) my penis friend'. In Brazilian Portuguese slang (many thanks to a buddy from Portugal who saved me from a grievous linguistic error) this is a term of sexual endearment indicating trust and a sexual history, but don't tell Cáel that.] Yasmin and I walked a ways before she had to head in a different direction. We kissed. I kept my hands firmly on her hips like a good boy. She put her hand down my pants and stroked my cock for about a minute, in public. "Next time, I think we have sex," Yasmin winked before departing. I watched her walk away until she vanished in the crowd. She didn't look back. She was far too confident. "Well, she seems nice," Buffy caught me off-guard. She'd snuck up while I was watching Yasmin and she was still being so horribly friendly to me. Best of all, she assured me she'd be back to her normally aggressive self-come Monday morning; right about the time I finally got used to her being nice to me. "Yeah; she is," I sighed. "What's wrong?" Buffy inquired compassionately. "What do you mean?" I stared evenly at Buffy. "Hanging out with me could get her killed, that's what's wrong." "That's not likely to happen," Buffy to reassure me. I shook my head. "I'd ask you if you were nuts, but I know you are nuts," I grunted. "Elsa wouldn't kill you yet she'd kill Yasmin and her son without batting an eye if she felt a severe lesson was in order. Buffy, you work for animals. We both do. The difference being that you are one." "I don't think you appreciate how popular you are with the company," Buffy insisted. "You've worked really hard to impress them and they value your efforts." I screamed to the Heavens. Elsewhere, I would have drawn some serious looks. In NYC, I barely drew any notice. "Yeah; great. Remind me to clap like a pet seal Monday morning. Buffy, you, Katrina and a few others are grinning, thinking you've made great strides on this New Directive and the crime for a security guard shooting me as I walk in the office every day is the same; a transfer to someplace less pleasant. Correct me if I'm wrong," I laid into her. "The difference is that they don't want to shoot you," Buffy countered. "Wow, if you put 'you-Buffy' in place of 'you-Cáel' you will realize how inconsequential that is," I informed her. "I'm a human being; unless I'm in Havenstone. Inside, my well-being is based solely on your sufferance; just like a test monkey." "If you really empathized, you would realize the only other people that walk around think 'gosh, I shouldn't murder that person today' are serial killers. Yet you expect me to be thankful for tap dancing faster than you shoot at my feet. You have this happy dream that I've accomplished anything," I shook my head. "In 71 days one of you is going to kill me; that is the reality I'm staring down," I gazed at her. "Why do you think we'll turn on you then?" Buffy actually appeared upset. "Havenstone has been letting me play with this '84 Day' fiction because it amuses all of you," I took a deep breath. "Whatever I can do in the last 71 days of my life probably won't matter." "You've made a difference with Aya and Oneida," Buffy rallied. "Great, I saved the life of someone who would stab me in the heart if I slapped her," I countered. "As for Aya; I dread to think what she will go through when she figures out you've put me down like a rabid dog. I help her because I have to try, because the rest of you have written her off." We walked the rest of the way to the apartment in silence. "Katrina is not going to like the results of our little chat," Buffy mumbled. I laughed. "Buffy, she knows. When the time comes she's sending Elsa to take me alive. I don't know how I'm going to beat her. It is one of the thousand, or so, things I'm working on," I chuckled. "I know Katrina better than you do," Buffy rolled her eyes. "I think you under-estimate her affection for you." "I don't doubt her affection for me," I told Buffy. "I simply deem it to be valueless. Listen, it took me ten seconds to figure out what Aya needed at the Archery range." "Not a God-damn person who knew her their entire lives would have ever done what I did," I continued. "It wasn't that they didn't understand what needed to be done; show a little faith in her. It was that none of them would have ever had the humanity to do it. Katrina could think the Sun rises and sets on me. It doesn't change a damn thing that happens in 71days." I neglected to say that Katrina murdered/dueled her own grandmother to bring Desiree into the Epona fold. That was the head of her household. I wasn't an Amazon, or even a woman. Buffy was making shit up to keep the insanity of her life at bay. Oh, she'd kill me if Katrina gave the order. She'd hate herself for it. That wouldn't do me a damn bit of good though. (Saturday Afternoon and then some) Our conversation died for two reasons as I led the way into my apartment. First off, it was Havenstone business and neither one of us was foolish enough to talk about it in front of Timothy and Odette. The other reason would have been Brooke and Libra sitting on Timothy's sofa. Those two stood up as we entered. "Hi;” I got to say. "We just came around to tell you that you are an;” Libra spat but then, "Which one is this?" "You could have called first," I snapped back. I reached for my phone; which wasn't there. Odette sheepishly lifted my phone up from her side. I imagine that bitch had been ringing off the hook since my departure. There was a major bitch-fest coming down the pipeline. I wasn't going to let that happen. There is an advantage to people having a low opinion of you. It gives you the unspoken permission to act like a crass asshole whenever you feel like it. "This lady is Buffy Dubois and she's my bodyguard for the weekend," I tried to sound bored. "Listen, the restaurant we went to was long on sizzling hot food and short on ceiling fans, so I'm going to take a shower," I callously stated. "Brooke, want to join me?" No, Brooke didn't want to join me. She wanted to rip my hair out in large, painful clumps. She was the Princess and I was the bottom feeder with dirt under my fingernails (huge salary be damned). "No, I don't want to shower with you, you Jerk!" Brooke snarled. Sadly, now I was making poor use of my loyal Odette. Such is life. "We only stayed long enough to give you a piece of our minds." "I'll come with you!" Odette peeped. She had been on the floor, back to the small space of wall between the workout alcove and the door to my bedroom. Timothy was leaning on the portion of the living room wall next to the short hall that led to the bathroom and his bedroom. He seemed more and more amused as the encountered unfolded. "No," Brooke squalled. "I'm not done with him yet." She followed me to the bathroom. Now normally, I would get a towel from the bathroom, go to my bedroom to strip down then return to the bathroom for a shower, or soak in the tub. This time I went straight to the bathroom. Brooke had built up a good head of steam, I slammed the door shut the second she came in. She was about to unload some truly spectacular vitriol on me. That wasn't the game plan. I shoved Brooke into the door and pressed my lips against hers, conveying my deep desire for her and dowsing her rage. "No, you don't;” she got out. Game plan. "God Brooke, I've been worried sick about you. Have you been holding up okay?" I turned on the concern. This is what she wanted to hear. I wasn't indifferent to her emotional state. In fact, I was so wrapped up in her Brooke's turmoil I was nearly paralyzed into inactivity. These are the words that Brooke wanted. What mattered to Brooke most was Brooke, followed up by how much Brooke mattered to other people. "I; ah," she mumbled before we kissed once more. This time she was hungry and passionate. She had reaffirmed that I was in her 'corner'. Now she could get down to the real reason she'd shown up to a place where some middle class guy who didn't return her phone calls lived; sex. "Work's been a mess since Trent jumped ship and took that promotion," I grumbled, still focused on giving Brooke oral stimulation. "The important thing is how have you been recovering? How have you been coming along?" Seduction is multi-layered. Know your partner; not just their erogenous zones, but their likes, dislikes, mindset and goals. Thus I used words like 'Trent jumped ship' and 'promotion' to fixate Brooke's anger on Trent, not me. He deserved it. Also, I used 'recovering' and 'coming along' to insinuate that Brooke; strong Brooke; was getting through this trauma all on her own, so now she could let me help her and not be in a weak, desperate position. All that led up to Brooke justifying to herself that she could let me ravish her in the shower without her looking like some insecure, post-breakup slut. The first words that came to mind were 'Pound Puppy' though 'Pound Kitty' was more apropos. I was nice, tender, gentle and loving as I drew her into the tub with the shower on. She cuddled against my chest, got off a few tears; mainly for my benefit to express how much she still needed comforting. Then I began tearing her up. I went VOA this time out; vaginal, oral, anal; and she had no doubt that I was Fucking her, capital 'F'. She was no Chalmers' girl, but she certainly spared no expense on the screams, howls and caterwauls as I ripped piece after sensual piece off of her; body and soul. Thankfully I keep six condoms beneath the shampoo dispenser. It is indicative of the state of disrepair of our apartment building that the water heater didn't exhaust the water supply and turn cold; it turned lukewarm. More screwing for Brooke and me. When she finally came crashing down from her trash pile of depression, self-doubt and rage over a world that had suddenly stopped making sense, I cut off the water, held her tight, and exited us from the tub. Both being players, Timothy and I had stocked up on nice, plush terry-cloth towels. Nothing builds up a mood for a repeat performance like drying off in a really comfy towel, or kills it faster than being wrapped up in some rag. I partially dried off Brooke because she was still craving close, romantic contact. Again, the most important person in the room was Brooke, and by attending to her, I was reinforcing that. I even stopped what I was doing to watch her put her underwear, socks then pants back on. She loved it. Then Brooke began looking around the small space for her bra. I had been hiding it behind my back. I revealed it, avoided having her swipe it back then used one finger to beckon her forward. Her resistance was enough to assert her independence, but not enough to dampen the sensuous course of events. She stepped forward, I tapped my lips indicating she had to kiss me to get back her undergarment. Brooke faux-resisted then kissed me. Then she French kissed me. I gave her bra back, still she pushed her body against mine, kissing away. She gave up the oral gratification when she wanted to give it up. She was the one in command, she asserted that by giving me what I wanted, so I was okay with things. She kept radiating her confidence as I kept very still, looking her over as she finished putting on her clothes. I cannot stress this enough: give the girl what she wants. There was absolutely no difference between lashing Rhada, instructing Odette in sensuality, finger fucking Elsa, upping my game to the highest levels with Buffy and going at Brooke in a romantic-aggressive style. Oh yeah, it is rarely productive to actually ask a girl what she wants. Most of the time they want to please you, so they'll lie. Lie better than they do and read what their body likes. Go from there. That was another gift from my mentor. When she was teaching me ancient love poetry, literature and culture, she was doing more than that. She was teaching me how to read women, get inside their minds and make them happy with things they may not even acknowledged they liked. God, I miss her. We/she decided that graduation was the end of the road for our romantic journey. She'd find another young man in need and start over. I would go out in the world and spread the passion and love, my fidelity failings be damned. Libra wasn't far from being a happy camper when Brooke and I came back out of the bathroom, one arm around Brooke's waist, the other holding my clothes and me in a towel. "Woot!" Odette, sitting on the floor once more, fist-pumped. "You knocked it right out of the ballpark." Brooke glared. Libra scowled. Odette basked in the knowledge that she was on the 'inside' of my little world now. She didn't have to play games. If she wanted to hang out, or have sex, she could come on over and I'd do my best to accommodate her. Odette had gone from hook-up, to fuck-buddy, to friend. She was still a girl around me with all the resulting pitfalls. That wasn't going to go away. What she had decided was that she was getting to hang out with cool, adult people. Dating in high school had never been difficult yet in the transition to adulthood, she'd be caught in a state of limbo. One night she met this young, dark stranger and she'd decided to take a chance. Now she had a big, musclebound gay sofa-buddy who was a relatively famous tattoo artist, a woman bed companion who apparently kicked ass for a secret society of some kind (Odette wasn't stupid) and that gorgeous, dark stranger to make love to her, to cuddle with and to wake up next to. I'd even kissed her before I raced off to work. I never kicked her out once I was 'finished' with her. We hung out, watched movies and talked about adult stuff. Timothy had offered to take her to a gay club; even a gay strip club. She couldn't wait. Odette wanted the three of us; she liked the idea of being a trio; going clubbing. Sure, she'd be sponging off me, but Timothy said I wouldn't mind. Timothy even insisted that we both really liked her. He also told Odette that 'with all the wacky bitches in his life, he needs you'. Before this, Odette had always thought of one boy-one girl. After a few days with me, monogamy flew out the window and she honestly couldn't recall why she'd been so hung up on it. I gave Brooke another steamy kiss, before heading to my bedroom. I bent over Odette, stroked her cheek as she looked up and smiled at me, and met her lips in a tender, caring moment. Yes, she knew she was special to me. Libra was ready to bifurcate me; verbally. Blood is so difficult to get out of clothes. Why was I going to get away with this? I banged the Trent out of Brooke; again. She could assume I was either ignoring her; Heaven forbid; or I was working up to her; a far more appealing illusion. I nearly closed my door. I wanted to hear what was going on. "Let's go," Libra groused. "Why don't we see if he wants to go out to eat?" Brooke suggested, ignoring Buffy, Odette and Timothy. "We had Brazilian for lunch," Buffy calmly informed them. It was mid-afternoon. "Oh, how was Yasmin?" Odette inquired in a friendly manner. "Are you his social director?" Libra sneered. "Oh no," Odette chattered back. "Cáel Nyilas and I are buddies. We have a lot of sex, but mainly I hang around for the meals and company." "Is he fucking you too?" Libra snapped. "Yes," Buffy sighed happily. "Yes he is. It is only for this weekend. After that, I have to wait for the end of his internship." "Damn," Libra seethed, "Is he fucking you as well?" "No," Timothy said regretfully. "Cáel isn't even bi-curious, despite my dreams and fantasies." "I guess that's something," Libra grumbled. Right then I stepped out, looking all male-scrumptious. For guys, imagine a D-Cup tanned blonde, in a midriff exposing damp, white t-shirt, no bra, and red bikini bottoms. This is pretty much how most women demean me in their libido clouded minds. I've never actually felt demeaned by this. I mean, if the opposite sex finds me sexy, do I really care if that's going to be the limit of them getting to know me? I think not. By the way, for all you curvaceous blondes out there who gripe and groan about men only seeing you as sex objects; really? That bothers you? Do this; tease them the say 'now sit there and listen to what I have to say, or no nookie for you'. Talk away. Will they understand you? No, but then very few of us understand Stephen Hawking either. Consider yourself in a select group that includes the smartest human on the planet. That guy/girl on their knees before you pleading for intimate contact? They will agree with you in a heartbeat. Congrats; you are a genius. I also don't mind. If women stopped wanting sex, I doubt my life would not be worth living. Less I be allowed to savor a victory, there was a knock at the door. I headed that way. "Oh yeah; Cáel," Timothy called out. "Nikita called and said she was going to stop by." And here I was with two sexually dressed (it was hard for Libra and Brooke to not look sexy) hotties, plus Odette and a Havenstone Stormtrooper in my crib. Had I whispered for Odette to go hide in Timothy's room, she would have hopped to it. Had I fell on my knees, begged, pleaded and was shown to be speaking the Words of God, Libra and Brooke wouldn't have moved an inch. Fortunately (?) this happens to me a great deal. "Hey Nikita," I gave her a sleepy smile. I started to usher in my policewoman/somewhat-girlfriend. Yes, I was acting like nothing was going on, much less like I'd done something wrong. I was aided in this by the fact that the sex had all been shower-based, thus not odiferous. This wasn't a great plan, or even a good plan. It was a weak plan, in fact; rather desperate and last ditch. "Hi," Nikita scanned the room. "Who is this bimbo?" Libra insulted both Nikita and me. "New York City Policewoman Nikita Kutuzov," Niki snapped back. "Who the fuck are you?" "That's Libra Chalmers," Odette spoke up when the two girls wouldn't. "Her sister and Cáel Nyilas were friends at college." "The raven-haired woman is Brooke Lee and her boyfriend was a total douche and made work difficult for Cáel Nyilas and life horrible for her," Odette finished. That was so sweet of her; it was almost 'me'-like. "Are either of you Havenstone?" Niki studied them. "That would be me," Buffy spoke up. Since she wasn't dressed like a desperate cry for sex (like the other three women), Nikita hadn't truly soaked her in yet. For starters, Buffy was clearly older than the rest. "Do you have any weapons on you?" Niki glared. "Yes; do you want to see my Concealed Weapon permits?" Buffy remained serene. "Nice and slow," Niki told Buffy as her hand came to rest on the grip of her 9 mm. Nikita was off-duty so this was an awkward situation. "You have girlfriends with guns?" Brooke gasped. She seemed excited. Libra was uncertain. Nikita being Nikita, she took Buffy's word for nothing, using her cellphone to call in and check the three permits; gun, knife, knife. She wanted to card everybody, but I nixed that. These were my house guests. I put my foot down. Niki became truly angry with me. "I need to talk to you; outside," Nikita insisted. I didn't hesitate to go with her. By outside, she meant to her car because she was sure my place was under surveillance. She was most likely right. As soon as I put my ass on the passenger seat, Nikita wrapped me in a smothering embrace. "I've been so worried about you," she sniffled. No, Nikita wasn't brain damaged, or forgiving. She knew that if I hadn't already had sex with some, if not all, of the four women in my place, I most likely would in the next 36 hours. Don't forget that she knew I was a philanderer, had come to grips with that, and was beginning to count up my allowed indiscretions before she finally gave up on my worthless ass. "You shouldn't do that, Nikita," I hugged her tightly to me. "You have a freaking dangerous job and I'm a big boy. I'll deal with my work problems. You deal with yours and we take what time together as we can." "This is not how the World is supposed to work," she mumbled. "There are two ways of looking at it, Nikita," I stroked her hair. "Peace is merely the interruption of the otherwise endless cycle violence, or life is a constant struggle to avoid the inevitable slide into anarchy." "For such a loving, joyous man, you have a terribly dark side to you," Nikita looked into my eyes. "I read this in a book on the philosophy of social collapse; Imagine that last legionnaire standing atop Hadrian's Wall, his companions ready to march away yet knowing the Picts remained just out of sight, waiting for the last guardians to depart," I recalled. "Did he contemplate that, despite generations of sacrifice, nothing had change, or did he realize that, with their lives, those fellow soldiers bought centuries of peace to an otherwise war-torn land?" "Nikita, no victory is permanent," I explained. "One day the lights will go out in this city and never come back on. One day everything you've worked for will fall. That doesn't mean what you are doing doesn't have value, or that I don't appreciate what you do. Every life you save is still precious; it is invaluable to that person, if no one else." "Every day you take up the badge and gun means hundreds of others get to live their lives wrapped up in the illusion they live in a lawful society," I said. "I say 'illusion' because people tend to not understand that nothing lawful is permanent. They don't understand that one day that last legionnaire will be looking out over their neighborhoods. It is inevitable." "Is that why you don't give a crap about any of your relationships; is this the excuse that you use to cheat; that nothing is ever permanent?" Nikita's gaze hardened. "Remind me to never be honest with you again," I opened the door. Yeah, I was pissed. I'd broken my rule; lie to make the girl happy; and this is what it got me. "Damn it," Nikita yanked on my arm, not letting me leave, "Cáel Nyilas, what am I supposed to think after you tell me that?" I hesitated. I hated honesty. "I don't give a crap about some nebulous, transitory victory, Nikita," I kept looking away. "I don't see monogamy as pointless any more than I feel law enforcement as pointless." "That doesn't mean I want to be a cop, or in only one relationship. My Dad loved my Mom. He never dated after she died. He loved me and raised me the best he could. That is one of the best examples of monogamy I've ever witnessed. It simply isn't me," I told her. "Of greater relevance is my initial comment about the value of victory." "You think you can 'fix' my situation; that somehow the rule of law can apply to people who live outside of it," I turned around. "That isn't happening. You are more likely to convict every banker that had a hand in the 2008 housing loan collapse than you are to ever bring a single senior Havenstone employee up on any charges." "It is wrong," Nikita insisted. "I'm not being naive. No criminal conspiracy is ever impenetrable." "They are not a criminal conspiracy," I sighed. "They are a nation-state without demarcated borders. Criminals are fixated on making money." "Havenstone uses money as part of their arsenal to get what they want," I said. "What is that?" Nikita. "I'll never tell you," I put our faces within millimeter of each other. "Cáel, I want to help you," Nikita persisted. "You can't, Nikita," I stared. "Rome calls and you will obey. It is who you are. It is what I like about you. It also means you won't break the law for me, which means, in the terms of rescue, you are useless to me as anything except a friend. Personally, I suggest you appreciate the next 70 days with me, then find someone who will take care of you, marry them and raise the next generation of policemen and women." "Are you a police officer?" she altered her approach. "No," I played along. "Then don't assume you know what I can and can't accomplish," Nikita grew fierce. "Al-Qaeda thought they were untouchable too. As did the KKK and the Mafia." "Right, Nikita, except there are still terrorists, violent racists and organized crime; different faces but the same hydra," I relayed. "That is what I'm trying to tell you; these ladies are not conventional criminals. They are not going to flip on each other. They aren't afraid of drone attacks, wiretaps, or video surveillance." "If the Justice Department goes after them, they'll strike back. Don't think assassinations and bombings; think 'Tail-hook' and 'Fast and Furious'. The problem is they already know what rules you play by and how law enforcement works. You won't be able to get your side to understand how Havenstone works until it is too late," I stressed. "Your side? We are your side, Cáel Nyilas," Nikita insisted. "No, you are not," I responded. "My side wants to deal with this himself, only risking his life and earnestly not wanting to have my actions resulting in hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths. Your gang wants to enforce the law and turn this problem into a nice, tidy bundle. Making twenty arrests and confiscating a few million in assets will not make Havenstone go away." "They will fade back into the shadows and then wreck vengeance upon you all when it is convenient for them," I stated confidently. I had sat in on exactly one board meeting. That had been enough of an education to figure out how they operated and how long-term their planning was. They wouldn't put a bullet into the head of the lead investigator. No, fifteen years later, while having a routine medical procedure, there would be a mix-up with his medication and he'd die. A few months later, his son, that man's wife and two children would all be involved in a fatal car accident. Yes, they wiped out your family. My bet was they had already done something like that. They'd find a weak link in the investigative team, show him/her the evidence of past misdeeds and impress upon them that they would be next. Witness Protection? Over a twenty year old string of accidents? The fed either played ball, or waited a decade, or two, for their loved ones to start dropping. Havenstone Commercial Investments was only 22 years old. Without a doubt, there had been other incarnations built up then discarded only for some new front to take its place. As for grudges; the Amazons took it as a personal affront that an independent Hellas existed today, despite the reality that those Greeks had little lineage in common with the Greeks from the time of Achilles. The conundrum was I couldn't use the word 'Amazons', or refer to the board meeting. I couldn't talk about the armory, Buffy, or Desiree's backgrounds, or truly impress upon Nikita the absolute level of fanaticism Havenstone engendered in their congregation. If I hinted at it, she'd think of Jonestown, not the Karen Insurgency in Burma. "Why do you have such faith in them, but not in your own law enforcement?" Nikita pleaded. "Training, fanaticism, the ability to act with few restrictions, and their willingness to let a member who makes a mistake to live and learn from it instead of being sacrificed for political and popular expediency," I counted off my points. "They prepare for war, not peacekeeping," I clarified. "By that, I mean that each standard office worker is the equivalent of a soldier in any fully modern armed force. For whatever cause you and your fellow NYPD believe in, there is also a long history of corruption. There is none of that at Havenstone. Infighting; yes. They would never betray the principles of their organization though." "You work under the scrutiny of the judicial system, a normally hostile press and a special panel whose sole duty is to keep your law enforcers in line. They work for superiors who give them far more latitude," I continued. "A Havenstone breaks an external law, the get assigned elsewhere. Violating their internal code of conduct is harsh and immediate then resolved." "You screw up, and you are pilloried in the press, abandoned by your superiors and shunned by your peers as if you had a contagion," I sighed. "The NYPD loses you as a resource because of one mistake. Despite the numerous advantaged of living in a Democratic Republic and a capitalist economy, the underlying weaknesses remain." "People are people, thus flawed. Office-seekers need money and to be scandal-free to get elected which has become a continuous process," I stated. "Those realities allow entities like Havenstone to exist in a parasitic relationship with our society. Face it, why pay $100 million in fines, duties and taxes when you can pay $1 million in campaign contributions." "You are so damn cynical," Nikita frowned. "Nikita," I huffed. "No, I'm not cynical. I'm a romantic realist. I know the score. Despite that, I still chose to make my own way in the world. I don't date a woman expecting a 'Happily Ever After'. I also never make a plan to leave a lady. It happens regularly enough and it is my fault most often, yet it has never been my intention to avoid permanence." "I don't understand you at all!" she yelled. This was expected. This was her prodding me into having some frenzied, 'make me forget about the cruelty of the World' sex. "Nikita, if I did chose to break the law, I wouldn't be caught because there is some cop out there better than me. If I was caught, it would be that the cops have tons more resources than I possess," I explained. "I'm not even criminally inclined and I can beat the system. This doesn't mean I plan to break the law. I have no reason to. In the same way, I won't surrender because I don't have to. I'm still alive and have a degree of freedom," I told her. "It is because I know the score that I can fight with hope. I have spent the last four years not living the easy life; the safe life." "I have the scars to prove it, along with no regrets, because I am me; the man I want to be," I smiled. "So what that I work for killers; they are hot and most of them are willing. The unwilling ones I'll bring around eventually; I always do." Now she wanted to pepper spray, Taser, baton beat and pistol whip me; all at the same time. Sex. "I keep asking myself why I care about you," Nikita wailed. "I don't even know why I came over today. I should have known you would have at least one woman in your apartment. I could have waited for you to return a single damn phone call; but No, I had to drive over and have you stomp on my heart instead." "I don't know how to reply to that," I mused. I did, but drawing it out was important. "My life is a nightmare. It will most likely end in tragedy. If I loved you, I would send you away in a loud, vocal breakup that would convince Havenstone we were done and that would be that. My problem is I like; I selfishly want to know you better and I resonate with you like no other." When you are the bad guy and she knows you are the bad guy, play the bad guy. See, if I was a good guy, I would sacrifice of myself and send her away. Instead, I was 'selfish' and I was selfish because we 'resonated'. Resonate is a good, romantic word. Its definition is a bit shady, thus she can interpret it the way she desires. Before you hate me more than you already do, please recall that I really liked Nikita. She was special to me. Unfortunately, 'special' has sort of a nebulous meaning for me. To put that in perspective, my heart is a five year old child in a toy story. It goes 'get that one, get that one' without explaining to me exactly why I end up doing what I do. "I want you so much," she groused, hating herself for her naked desire. "Let's go back to my place and make love," I suggested. She jerked slightly. "What about all those other women?" she questioned. "Odette is a dear friend, Buffy is my bodyguard and the other two showed up all on their own," I informed her. "I like Libra and Brooke well enough, but the attraction is purely sexual (it better damn be all it is). I hope we have something more," I said. I could even make honesty my bitch, it seemed. "Fine. Let's go before I regain my sanity," Nikita declared. It doesn't take a NASA mission control officer to know that really means 'fuck me now; I've soaked my panties'. Nikita was hopping up and down on the balls of her feet by the time we exited her car and made it around to her/street side. She grabbed my hand and yanked my unresisting form hurriedly back to my apartment. We nearly crashed into Buffy who had been watching from the door. Nikita flashed an embarrassed look. That didn't stop her from bounding up the stairs three at a time as we raced up to my place. Nikita was slowing down on the final approach only to have Odette open the door and stand aside; Buffy had phoned her. In we swept. Libra and Brooke rose from the sofa, I gave them an apologetic look before Nikita drew me into the bedroom. I slammed the door shut. "What the Hell!" Libra screamed. What can I say? When I truly set out to fuck a girl, I leave them wanting more. Before you think I'm an egotist, or a Sex God, it is they want to have sex with me, not that they care about what I want. I've been jumped while putting gas in a friend's car by a girl, whose name I couldn't recall at the moment, who I had banged in a bar's men's room. Midway through that encounter (we were standing up, my back against the car, and her legs spread up and wide as she coasted down from her first orgasm), she confided in me she'd been running around with a condom in her pocket in hopes of finding me; which proved she didn't really know me; I always have a condom. I even have some stashed in my bathroom  and  kitchen; just in case. After that, for the rest of my college career the Kwiki Mart attendant kept smirking at me; the gas pumps had video surveillance. My friend and his date were amused too. My date; less so. Maybe I should have stopped at the first orgasm. It turned out okay. See, unknown to anyone at the start, the girl's (Genevieve it turned out) boyfriend and I had been in a skiing accident and the poor bastard had suffered frostbite dragging me to safety, so I owed Genevieve big time. Yes, my date bought that hastily conjured excuse. All was right with the world and I ended up screwing my date that night and for the next two weeks. That relationship fell apart when three different servers at a Hooters gave me lap dances (who knew; Hooters girls don't normally give lap dances). I swear to God I had never been there before; the truth didn't work that time either. That wasn't too bad. It reminded me of Genevieve. I went back to the bar and nailed her again. In case it matters, I don't have a fake ID. I lie to the DMV about where I live. It is all official-like, if completely illegal. Back to my current official; a rapid analysis of the kaleidoscope of emotions. Lust, fear and confusion battled for dominance. I had to take into account her sexual background, parenting, and personal let downs. I had to give her something she didn't want. No, I wasn't going against my tried and true strategy. I had to give Nikita something she didn't want yet really needed. She began trying to strip off her clothes. Off went her faded denim jacket (despite the heat in NYC in the early summer) then her short-sleeved shirt. Poor Nikita; her nice, gossamer white bra was obviously new; that crisp, pure white doesn't come from Tide, and she had marks from the first bra she'd put on today. Off went the gun; and the cuffs. I had kicked off my shoes and so quickly pulled down my pants it burned my skin. The policewoman was drinking up my Nikita-inspired arousal so I was able to strip off my shirt too. She began working down her pants and undies in one motion when I jumped her. "Hey wait," she giggled. She became a tad more annoyed when I wouldn't relent. With her pants and panties still above her knees, I slipped on a condom, rolled her over and began. "I don't want to do it this way," Nikita insisted angrily. "Let me up." "I can't wait," I grunted in my doggy-style. In I went. "Girr; Girr; ah," she finally gave into her arousal. "Ah; ah; aha." That brought me to a halt. I wove my arms around her waist and drew her back to my chest. "Are you ready to have sex because you want it instead of doing it because you don't know what else to do?" I whispered in her ear. She twisted her head around. Words failed her so we kissed. "Can I take my pants off now?" sighed happily. "I don't know. I kinda like you like this," I replied. "I can barely move," she protested. "That would be a point in my favor," I snickered. Nikita got back at me by wiggling in my lap. Yeah, that put me in my place alright. Changing our orientation was part of my instinctual reaction to her desire for a close visual connection. The whole face down/ass up was only a trick to erase her confusion. Keeping inside of Nikita, I twisted her around until she was on her back, her bound legs resting on my crooked right elbow. Curse me, Nikita looked up at me consumed by bliss. There is disappointment, settling for what you've got, getting what you want and finally, being giving something you never considered yet now you wonder how you lived so long without. This wasn't only a 'good dicking'. It was the revelation that my life was a total train wreck and for a crusader like Nikita, I was virtually the Holy Grail. I would never 'not be in trouble' thus constantly in need of saving. To her, I had transformed into the perfect boyfriend. I could never run away, or be saved by anyone else but her. Oh; and I was giving her a terribly good dicking. "Better?" I murmured. Nikita nodded. My rod kept up steady, moderately powerful penetrations. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?" Trick question. "No," she purred. "I like; this is wonderful; I thought you would be different." She was one happy camper. She had anticipated a domination play. "I'd only be rough with you if that's what you wanted," I pressed her legs farther down so that are faces were very close. "Mmm; are you ever going to stop seeing those other girls?" she poised. She was no longer angry. Perfect boyfriend plus fantastic intercourse. I'm always doing stuff that makes women act in bizarre and unexpected (to them) ways. Won't ever do anal? You'll be ambushing me in the tub and working that ass down my pole inside of two weeks. Trust me. Odette hooking up with Buffy? Been down that road before. "I've only got 70 days left, Nikita," I groaned. "They are going to force me to put out at work." "I might as well try to make love to the women I care for," I told her. No, they weren't going to make me put out at work unless I made the full 84, or was relocated. Lie baby, lie. "I'll make sure you live more than those 70 days," Nikita passionately assured me. Now she was applying some pushbacks to meet my thrusts. "Why are you so nice to me?" I began taking deeper breaths. Please don't say 'I love you'. "No one should have to face your enemies alone," she gave up. Her left hand slithered down and began to tenderly work on her stiff button. I matched it, despite the somewhat awkward placement. My hand rested on hers, developing a synergy and allowing me to get a feel how she liked her clitoral stimulation. Nikita had barely started screeching out her climax when the door swung open. "You Bastard!" Libra screamed at me. To be that fast, she either teleported, or had been eavesdropping at the door. She stormed away, still yelling at the top of her lungs. It was times like this that Timothy appreciated what I told him when I first looked the place over. No locks on the interior doors? No problem. The women would cause less damage if all they had to do was break down the exterior door to get at me. He thought I was a joker. I am, but I wasn't joking about that. Kicking open a door is hard on the door sills. They are far more likely to give way then the door is to splinter, or the lock is to break. There have been a great many women who have busted through all kinds of portals to get at me with vengeance, pain and agony on their mind; my pain and agony if there was any doubt. "Ah, ah, ah; that was mind-blowing, Cáel," Nikita lilted. "Next time; " "Yes?" I soaked up her aroma. "Can we not make this a domestic disturbance case?" she giggled. "Is that an appeal for some real privacy, or stadium seating?" I teased. "You are a meanie!" she giggled gleefully. Who calls an adult a meanie? There was only one proper reaction to such a denigrating insult. I helped her take off the rest of her clothes and fucked Nikita two more times. Nikita and I were exhausted, our bodies intertwined, sweaty, and sated. Odette poked her head in. "Is it okay for us to join in yet?" Odette asked. "No," Nikita moaned. "Not yet," I corrected. I compensate having no control over my willy, by having limited control over every poon tang I interact with. I'm not sure how that works, but it does. Case in point: "I am not engaging in group sex, or sleeping with a girl," Nikita murmured. "Well, can they sleep in our bed tonight? They have nowhere else to go," I reasoned. "Um," she bit her lower lip. "Okay." Ta-da! I didn't argue with Nikita, or challenge/dare her. I said 'our bed' which put her, theoretically, on top of my female acquaintance hierarchy. Truth? Nah. I never had enough women hanging around together to ever have the time to figure that out. Nikita was going to be in bed with me and two other sexual active women. Buffy alone was a morality hazard. Odette was spunky. Nikita was armed with three relationships at best; her mom was a cop after all, so dating had to be fun before college. Finally, there was me; the lowest of the low. If cads had a shred of reverence, they worshipped an idol with my face on it. To my credit (don't laugh), I wasn't forcing Nikita to do anything, only making her do things she'd have never thought she'd do before she met me. We cleaned up then joined the others. The start was awkward. I changed the conversation to things girly: guns. I have a twisted life. Odette knew nothing; pure law-abiding citizen. I was an amateur gunslinger who picked up firearms to romance a girl, or three. Niki grew up around guns and the people who used them; the police. Her area of expertise was handguns and shotguns. She had little experience with rifles. Buffy had gotten a later start in life, but played 'radical catchup' since then. While not going into details, Buffy was very engaging. Timothy had no formal training yet had somehow managed to acquire a familiarity over his misspent life. He had even been paid in an AR-14 once. He had, of course, turned it over to the cops; but couldn't remember which cop, or precinct, when prodded by Nikita. We broke for Korean takeout. There was a problem with the order. Niki, Buffy, and I prepared to head out when Timothy developed a situation in the bathroom. Us guys tried to handle it. We were hopeless. Finally, Nikita intervened and shooed us out to the living room. Timothy 'found' some tools and gave them to Buffy to give to Nikita. Us guys had been exiled, after all. The second Buffy went into the bathroom, I slipped out the door quietly. Odette gave me a 'thumbs up' then snuck off to my bedroom. Bedroom noises commenced. The take-out issue was that my cute Korean delivery babe was missing me. Despite the plethora of sex coming my way, I discovered I missed her too. Later. "Do you find it amusing to not trust us in the least?" Nikita stared at me. I would have felt better if Timothy wasn't bound up with extension cords and his mouth covered with duct tape and trussed up on the floor. Odette was cowering in the far corner of the sofa. "I apologize," I extended my armload of food. "Old habits die hard." "You hurt our feelings," Buffy frowned. Still freaked out by that. Why wasn't someone hitting me? Seriously, there are tons of throw-able things in the apartment plus they both had guns. "If I sneak out, you two don't have to deal with the conflict of me wanting sex with different women," I pleaded. "This has nothing to do with how fantastic the sex with all of you is. It is that I'm so used to disappointing women then running for my life, the option of gaining anything approaching permission isn't something I know how to handle," I explained. "What makes you think we'd ever give you permission to cheat?" Buffy smirked. Ah, the joys of a blossoming four-way. Nikita? Not going to sleep with another woman? Hell, three hours in and she was already dividing up my sex-time with my other bed-buddies. My only worry was Niki would retell this to her Mom, the Police Desk Sergeant. I wasn't worried she'd hurt me. I was worried 'Mom' would toss me in jail. I'm a very pretty man and I doubt I'd do well in an all-male environment. Sure, there would be female corrections officers. That's not a good thing. I'm incredibly horny and I could see 'don't ask, don't talk back' in my future. "Listen, both of you," I got feisty. "If I want this level of aggravation, I'll go back to work and slap Elsa." "Also, why is Odette cowering on the sofa? She didn't do anything wrong," I declared. "She went into your bedroom, shut your door, and made all kinds of sexy noises. It took us ten minutes to realize we weren't hearing you,"

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

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[Note: these Movie Mindset Horrortober Season 1 episodes were already unlocked for free this year over on the Patreon feed, just adding them to the public feed to make them more widely available. To get every Movie Mindset episode, subscribe at patreon.com/chapotraphouse.] Will & Hesse look at two starring God Tom Atkins: John Carpenter's “The Fog” (1980) & Tommy Lee Wallace's “Halloween III: Season of the Witch”. Also a Carpenter double feature of sorts, one from the director himself, and one continuing from his iconic Halloween (1978) film as he intended the franchise to be, an anthology. The Fog is a true American ghost story wrestling with monstrous crimes of our past, and Halloween III is an outrageous gorefest with one of the most infamously ludicrous plots in all horror cinema. Tom Atkins plays an everyman sex symbol in both, laying pipe as he's terrorized by ghosts & robots through anonymous northern California towns. Note: Will promised we'd timestamp the Tom Atkins Ass Shot in the description. I do not have time to do that this evening. Sorry.

Song Of Solomon - Marriage, Love, and Sex God's Way by Chaplain Braswell

It might seem like it — but this is not a new topic… believe it or not, God CREATED sex — so it makes sense that HE would weigh in on the topic. What we get today are a lot of IDEAS about sex, but very little WISDOM. And what God says about sex just might surprise you! So join us for this series as we explore God's plan for human sexuality. Come as you are — NO SHAME! • Westbridge Church is people helping people FIND and FOLLOW JESUS! We believe that no matter where you are in your faith, there's always a next step you can take to grow in your relationship with God. As a church, we are committed to continually growing and encouraging others to grow in their faith, connect in community, share God's grace, serve others, and live generously. • Connect with us! https://westbridgechurch.com/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwS0EdEdcMUt6_czbEPaVXw Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/westbridgechurch Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/westbridgechurchmn/ Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/MyWestbridge

You're going to learn how to give women amazing experiences in bed each and every time. We'll cover how to manage performance anxiety and other sexual issues, how to make love like a pn star, how to blow her mind and body, and how to be amazing in bed even if you're not that big.TIMESTAMPS5:40 - Interview with Stirling Cooper53:18 - Interview with Shawn Maness1:31:04 - Interview with Baseem LINKS FROM EPISODEStirling Cooper - https://www.stirlingcooper.com/Shawn Maness - https://manesshypnosis.com/Baseem - https://bestextenders.com/MORE RESOURCES1-on-1 Coaching: https://www.TrippAdviceCoaching.com/HOOKED Video Masterclass: https://getherhooked.com/Get my book Magnetic: https://trippadvice.com/bookSend me an email: tripp@trippadvice.comSend me a voicemail: 323-432-0025SEE WHAT I'M UP TOTikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@trippadviceInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/trippadvice/Twitter: https://twitter.com/TrippAdviceFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/TrippAdvice/Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Dr. Andrew Newberg (Sex, God, and the Brain) is a neuroscientist and author. Andrew joins the Armchair Expert to discuss how philosophy and science can work together, how the study of seizures has changed over time, and why he started to take a more spiritual scientific approach to his research. Andrew and Dax talk about how human rituals developed, how religion and sex shaped the evolution of civilization, and the biochemistry of god and sex. Andrew explains why happens to the body during intense spiritual experiences, why he was interested in studying orgasmic meditation, and the good vs the bad of religion and spirituality. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Dr. Andrew Newberg (Sex, God, and the Brain) is a neuroscientist and author. Andrew joins the Armchair Expert to discuss how philosophy and science can work together, how the study of seizures has changed over time, and why he started to take a more spiritual scientific approach to his research. Andrew and Dax talk about how human rituals developed, how religion and sex shaped the evolution of civilization, and the biochemistry of god and sex. Andrew explains why happens to the body during intense spiritual experiences, why he was interested in studying orgasmic meditation, and the good vs the bad of religion and spirituality. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices