We all at one point and time in our lives have been someone that we are truly not.  And it is the times that we are not that person. Pretending. When we are not happy, We have not only decieived ourselves, but others as well. It is at these times that we need to look to our true inner selves and seek the truth.  It is only at that time that you will see the real you..... 

 I sat there as the preacher had brought everything to a close. It was a moving and stirring, truth rang out to the audience and congregation. And while I was looking at others in the church, wondering if they had truly got it. I should have been asking myself the same thing! Here I was, the most hypercritical, backsliding heathen I knew! The point was not to worry if others were hearing and listening and getting fed. The point was, was I?

When church let out, I knew exactly what I was going to be doing, where I was going to go, and who I would be with. Let me start by saying this, I love the Lord, he always hears my cries and answers my prayers. And I am what I would like to refer to as one of those wishy-washy Christ-like persons. I go to bible study, prayer on Thursdays. And in the between time and mean time I settle into the lust of my flesh. If that means clubbing, cursing, drinking, and fuking! Yeah that is me! And so is it for a lot in the faith of Muslims, Buddhist, Catholics, and other organizations that tell you no drinking, smoking, drugs and fornicating. We seem to be fake and phony. I seem to stay away from those who “really” walk a straight line and do what is right. But why would I? I mean that is if I am always acting an ass. I don’t want them to figure me out do I?

Just this past Friday I went out wearing no parties and went to a swingers party and slept with three men, and had two threesomes! One with a man and a woman. And it was incredible! And then had another one with three women. One who brought her strap on to the party. And I didn’t make it home until eight in the morning! When I got up around twelve, I met up with one of the guys I met up at the party and he took me to this upscale posh restaurant for lunch. We ate, grabbed two bottles of wine and went to the beach. We talked, walked the shore and drank. Then came back to my house and did what to me felt like “making love” It was different from when we got at each other at the party.

After making love for what seemed like hours on end. We slept, and we slept hard in each others arms. Our limbs constantly wrapped around each other. He awoke me by giving me some chilling and wonderful feelings by tasting me over and over again until I was climbing walls! I know my neighbors were tripping out over all the noises I was making. Because I held nothing back!

Again, hungry, we showered together, touched each other, kissed each other. And I did some things to that man that God was seriously shaking his head to. And I know would put gray hairs on Mother Theresa’s cooter snaps if she knew. The toys, the gels, the whole weekend was sin and explicit shame. And yet I sit here in church. Guilty, hoping yet again that God will for give me and my sins. Because I know I will need him before he needs me. I shake my head as I think this to myself. And the sad part of it all, the man I had this wild rendezvous with. He is sitting here right next to me. Praising God, praying in the spirit. Clapping his hands when the minister says something that touches him. And all I could think of was did anyone else get what the message was. Humph….

Handcuffs, heels, whips, strobe lights, oil, honey, dildos, strap -ons, sex with women, anal beads, porn, oral sex, given and received by both me and the men and women I was with over the weekend. I smoked a few blunts, I got drunk and nicely buzzed. And here I was sitting here, bible on my lap. Dressed conservatively and thinking of all my sins. I avoid the calls of the “real saints” but answer the ones of those who want to party and have fun sexual liaisons. Yeah, I answered those calls. Didn’t want to be in the choir, and I have a wonderful voice. Didn’t want to be a praise leader. Didn’t want to offer my skills in the IT field. Where I had major knowledge in. Had mastered the field long before it had gotten real popular. Didn’t want to date any men from church, well the real saints. But the ones who I knew were like me, well, we could fuk and party alll night and day long.

As he held my hand, and rubbed my knee. Looking at me, smiling deeply showing all those pearly whites. Knowing I am already addicted to that huge dick of his. And how my walls craved him once I had him deep inside me. He knew what we were doing later. We were fuking each other. We were sucking, kissing, licking, and having some couple come through later on to his house after we went and had dinner. All in the presence of the Allllllmighty I was having all these thoughts. And I was feeling guilty, feeling shamed, feeling awkward, embarrassed. I was living a life the God was fully aware of, and shaking his head at me. When was I going to get it? When was I going to stop? How could I continue to be blessed, move forward, and receive so much if I continued like this? I got tired of going up for prayer when the pastor called at the end of services for those who needed prayer. What was the point if I was not really going to stop? If I really didn’t want to stop? I was living a double life! Three days out of the week, I was a saint and perfect Christian. And those other days I was not. And then there were days when I praised God, and then went and had illustrious fun. Humph.

What would my mother think of me? She would be totally against my affairs and double life. I always in my heart wanted to be just like her. I look at her life and say, “I want to be just like my mom” A good woman, a faithful woman, a woman of God. But I was not doing a good job. I was burdened day and night by the life that I led. And I knew in my heart of hearts that I no longer wanted to be apart of it any longer. I could stop, I just didn’t really want to stop. I was addicted to this in so many ways……..

As the service came to a close. And we walked out. The many members that hugged and kissed me. As I introduced my “church date” to them all. They smiled and said “We are glad that you came to see us. And we hope you enjoyed the service. Will you be coming to see us all again?” And his response was…”Oh yes indeed. I highly enjoyed myself today.” And he reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly.

As I sat on the passenger side, the mood had quickly changed form listening to gospel to jazz. Which I didn’t have a problem with that. As he unloosened his tie, and reached over and slowly took his hand up my dress. Fully knowing that I had no panties on. He was willing, ready, and wanting. We had not even gotten out of the church parking lot yet and he was already thinking of sex. And here I was with a man I had only known for seventy two hours. Who was sprung on the way I kissed him, the way I had muscle control. The way I was “freaky” in bed. The way I gave him head. The way I was open to just about any illicit sex act. And here the guilt was stemming. I wanted to be for God, and yet I wanted to give over into the lust of the flesh.

I was now feeling the stench of guilt and had began to feel lowly and lonely. I didn’t want to go through this, I didn’t want to have group sex at his home with another couple. I didn’t want to be put on the auction block and stared at as a piece of ass! I didn’t want to be with anyone else but my thoughts and convictions and just pray. Pray that I could get over this lifestyle of promiscuity. That I too was an important person worth so much more than laying up. For someone to give me the honor of being “the bomb” in bed. Is that how I wanted to be accepted? I got up in this sexual tryst because I was so-called being an adventuress. And now when I have sex, I end up washing it all away with a shower, a bath, or someone bringing me a hot wash cloth to clean myself up.

It wasn’t that I was really attracted so much to the women either. But it is what it is. I just had this “power” thing. That I controlled many women and men with what was between my legs and with my mouth. I was the queen of making others feel reaaaaal gooood. I had that ultimate power! Who could and wanted to replace me? I could not be beat! My phone rang with men and women who wanted to taste me and be with me again. And that made me happy! Or so for the moment.

As we pulled up to his house, I wanted to go home. I had changed my mind. But as I looked over at him. I could tell that he was excited about the plans that we had made. Or should I say the plans he had made and I had agreed to. It was a “fuk fest” and we were gonna have “a good time” But how could he go from praising God, to being a sinners? Telling my associates at church he would be back…why? Was he getting it? Did he really want to come back and be apart of this? Or was it that he was doing this just to keep an eye out for or on me?

I had this man singing opera, handcuffed him, tied him up. Tortured him with pure erotic ecstasy. Bringing him close to climaxing, and I would stop and leave him dangling like a participle. Making him beg for me to please him, and he liked it. He wanted more, he wanted to use the anal beads again, He wanted to mount me from behind and watch as I went down on a man. Preferably a woman and watch. He wanted to see the woman scream and wiggle. Pull my hair and call my name. And I wanted to go home. He was excited, he said that he was going to have the couple that were coming over bring the weed, he had wraps and a bong. And he also had plenty of liquor that would satisfy the pallet of any drinker and make one happy. He told me that the couple that was coming over had a lot of toys to play with as well. He even showed me pics of the couple. They were both married and lived their lifestyle vicariously in the swinging and swapping partner world. He told me that his best friends wife was a “freak” like me. But didn’t think she had the oral skills I had. But she was more than happy and down to experience a new woman in her life. She had grown tired of some of the women who were not open to the “anything goes” aspect as she was.

Herb and Cassie were bringing Chinese food. He of coursed asked me what I wanted to eat. This man made sure that I ate, drank, and gave me what I wanted in such a short time of knowing him. Money, he had given me on Saturday, so that I could go shopping for sexy clothes. So that I could smell wonderful. I had begun to feel cheap. Had resorted to the lowest of the low. And I had accepted it with pleasure and honor. Where they do this madness at? Here.

I was so tired physically, I wanted to sleep. And he seen this, “Come on baby. Let me go ahead and run you a bath and you relax in my spa tub. Take you a small nap if you like. I know last night and all weekend has been a killer.” And he slipped his hand between my legs to arouse me. And my body once again had betrayed me. It submitted to his touch, the newness of his touch and masculinity. He smelled good, touched me with preciseness. And I was cornered, so I felt. When he led me upstairs to his master bed and bathroom. He slowly took my clothes off, and he felt me up. And when I felt his tongue and lips between my legs, and his fingers slide inside of me, I was ready and wet. And thought nothing of my Father in Heaven.

He had ran my bath, a nice hot bubble bath, scented candles lit, oils and bath salts. The water was silky. He had plush thick towels laid on the side of the tub. He had went downstairs and brought me up a glass of chardonnay. And he sprinkled pink rose pedals in my bath. I felt like a princess with all the care and it seemed “love” he was bestowing upon me. He played some soft music for me, and he left out. Telling me he was going to take care of a few things for the guest and do a little tightening up to his house. Prepare.

I had fallen asleep in the tub. And couldn’t tell you how long I was in there honestly. I just knew that I felt great and relaxed. I had gotten out of this huge tub that could fit two, possibly three people comfortably. I dried off, and used all the toiletries that he had purchased me. I slipped on the silk long black gown with the back out on. It had a train on the bottom, so as I walked it dragged the floor gracefully. The gown had cost him one hundred and twenty-five dollars. He had even purchased me some stud diamond earrings to wear. I had started to get into character, knowing there was no need to back out now. I was here, I would drink and smoke. Pop the ecstasy pill I had left form Friday night so that by the time they, the couple had gotten to the house. I would be prepared.

It was being high, and being drunk. Not to the point where I couldn’t walk, or spoke with slurred language. But to the point that I was uninhibited. Open and ready to do the illicit and lustful acts that brought my body so much joy! I will not deny that, when I was high, I felt as if I was on top of the world. I owned a mansion and a yacht! I was America’s Next Top Model! The finest, I had it all! I knew that it was all an illusion, and that is why I continued to go to church to hear the word of God. Knowing there was no ifs ands or buts about it. It was raw and uncut, the truth in it’s purest form. I was not going for the people, and the “backsliders” I was going to get fed. If I got carried away with how and what others did and do. Then I was going for the wrong reason. Because it was the people like myself that were filling the seats in the sanctuary because they were also searching. And they felt pure and loved if only for that moment. The joy and the compassion they felt when they listened to the minister. It was the truth that made them feel guilty, and told them they had to do better. But it was also a choice, a choice that me, we, they all made to continue to live in “sin”. I had made the choice to live a double life and lie to the people of the church that I was a “saint” and I was far from it. The only person I was hurting was me. I was a saint alright, I was the saint in sucking men off!

I cared less of how the pastor dressed, and where he lived, how he lived, and the money he made. This was his job, and he was a vessel. Just as I was a vessel for the lust of my body. Just as I had made the choice to tithe and get high, drink and do what it is that I do. How can you expect good and great things to continue to happen if you are doing the wrong thing. And my conscious was always telling me. “You see that man over there? You know he is wrong. But he is living wonderful! He has money, cars, and some of the finer things in life. He is a drug pusher, seller, and soon he will go and pay with his life in one way or the other. Jail, death, or hurt. Believe that!” And so it is, and so it shall be.

I stayed upstairs in his room, he had a window seat/bench in his room. I sat there, as I had a joint already rolled, between my fingers, puffing. A glass of wine in my hand, sipping. I had already dropped my pill. Waiting. I inhaled the scent of my body. Smelling good. I leaned up against the partial wall, knees up, looking out of the window sitting in the dark. Looking out at the front yard, the cars passing by. The sky was clear, the moon bright, the stars sparkling. The calm was there, but not with me, not yet. I could hear the soft music he was playing on rotation seeping through the closed door. He was happy, and I had to get in the mode to “play” It felt as if I was forced this time. And not by my own mind was I “fully” agreeing that I wanted to participate. But the wine was taking its effect. I was feeling good, I was getting that warmness that I had anticipated. It was beginning to overwhelm me, and take me up under it’s wing.

As I was now buzzed from the wine, and high from the joint. I was feeling good. I saw when the car pulled up, it was now time to play. It was time to be the center of attention. I was now acting, because one would think if they didn’t know. That “we” were a couple and had been together. I guess I was beginning to feel the same way. It felt as if I had been with this man, and knew this man oh too well. But we had some things in common, God, sex, alcohol, weed, group sex. We had that in common. We were in sync.

I finished the second glass of wine. Didn’t want to be too drunk, and I got into character. I walked down the stairs letting the tail of my gown slide along the steps. I saw myself in the mirror that was on the wall, make-up flawless, every hair in place, perfection. I was his wife, his concubine, his slave on the auctioning block. Herb and Cassie didn’t see me as I was ascending down the stairs. She was beautiful, He was handsome. They made an even more beautiful couple in person. To me, their pictures did them no justice. I began to think what did they do for a living, what was the real and true relationship with them. What and how did they come to the place of being so easy to share ? Did they go to church? Did they believe in God?

I paused in the middle of the stairs, and he takes their coats from them and greets Herb by shaking his hand and they pull into each other and hug. He kisses Cassie on the lips and hugs her. I watch as they walked away from the foyer. He led them thru the living room towards the great room where he had everything set up. I had seen as Cassie had put her caboodle down, I am assuming that was her trunk of toys.


I asked God to forgive me.


They all looked upon me when I walked into the room, as if I was the star for the night. Eager, anticipating what only “I” could do. I saw the smile widen as Herb had looked me up from head to toe. Sold to the man with the black knit sweater on! His wife Cassie seemed to be squirming on the sofa, anticipating. I know that he told him how wild and adventurest I was. What a great catch he had found.

All eyes on me. I sat down, I had began to feel the tingly sensation of the pill I dropped in my hands, and the bottom of my stomach. It was amazing, it felt as if I was about to get on a roller coaster, and the anticipation of the ride. I grabbed his hand, he knew what I had done. I asked him to hold me, wrap his arms around me. He did. I spoke and felt more talkative. I opened up and worked on getting to know my new couple. To life! A new adventure……

Things of course got heated and touchy feely, this is how the drug made me, or anyone feel. Clothes slowly came off as the men watched Cassie and I start kissing , sucking, and feeling each other. As they were aroused, so was I. I made Cassie, scream, yell, call the name of God! “Oh God! Oh God!” And that is when it hit me! I had to stop, I had to leave. She brought God in this….She should have kept her mouth close! And just as I was about to stop, here he comes and mounts me from behind. It happened so quick! Herb moved Cassie out of the way as she was trying to catch her breath from the major climax she had just had. And placed his dick in my mouth. He held my head up with my hair, and jabbed his dick back and forth in my mouth. I couldn’t move, I was cornered in. I couldn’t go anywhere! And it was this berating of men that had encumbered me, and had taken full advantage of my promiscuity that I continued, when he stopped. He went over to Cassie, and Herb stayed with me. Telling me to lick on Cassie’s nipples and suck them while he rode her like a jockey as she laid on her back. He said it made her climax if her nipples were being sucked and played with. Herb handled me like a rag doll.

This back and forth went on for it seemed hours. I was still high from the pill of course. And just as if it were planned, I looked over on the table, I hadn’t noticed it before. There was the bible, in full frontal view. It was as if he had sat it there on purpose as a reminder that we had gone to church. That I was not the biggest, but the worse “saint” there was. That I was a hypocrite! And when I spoke highly of God it was just a slap in my Heavenly Father’s face!

As they all talked of how great and a wonderful time they all had. Herb and Cassie went upstairs to retire. I knew that this had happened between the three of them before. They had done this with another woman, or just them alone more than a few times. Herb and Cassie were tired, drunk, and overwhelmingly satisfied with the evenings festivities. They put no clothes on, and walked up the stairs to the guest bedroom. While he decided to straighten up. I sat there, staring at the bible on the coffee table. I wanted to pick it up, pray, believe that I too could get over this illusion that I was most sought after for my beauty and my sexual prowess.

As he saw me sitting there, staring at the bible. He walked over to me and sat next to me.

“You feel guilty don’t you?” I shook my head yes. Holding back tears. He took a deep breath.

“You are not the only one that feels this way you know. I miss him talking to me, praying. My life has not been the same.”

“So why? Why do you stay and live like this? Are you addicted as I am? Look at us…two people who love God. At least that is what I am getting from you. And we could win an award from the way we have been behaving.”

“I feel guilty all the time. It started when I was married.”

“You were married?”

“Yes I was. To a beautiful and wonderful woman. She made my life so much more content and happier. Smart, would do anything to make me happy. I mean this woman was not only a good cook and a lover. She was attentive to me needs. She made me laugh all the time. She looked out for my best interest. And she loved me like no other has ever before or after her. She was my queen, for real. When I came to the swinger party and I saw you. I felt as if I had ran into her twin. There were so many things about you that reminded me of her. And yet you had some things about you that totally separated you from her. As I followed you around, I saw something special in you.”

“Sex.” He shook his head no.

“It wasn’t that. It was a light. A light that was dimmed. It was the truth.”


“Yeah. I lost my wife because I had cheated on her numerous times and always got caught. I guess you could say I was apart of that typical man theory of most men get caught. Well, I did. Alllll the time. He chuckled. I was the pastor of a mega church in Alabama. Tears fell from his eyes. I was faithful to God. I was a virgin when I got married. My wife wasn’t, but she had been celibate when she gave her life over to God. We dated for two years, and then I asked her to marry me. We met at a church. And then the calling came upon me for me to teach. I loved breaking down the word of God in Greek and Hebrew. I loved researching the word, I loved the history, the mayhem, the zest of it. I first started teaching bible classes. And then was asked to teach a sermon, I was nervous. He chuckled again. The way God moved through me that Sunday was beautiful!”

I can’t believe what I am hearing…This is …wow….” He wiped the tears from his face. I began to feel uncomfortable and put my gown back on. He turned his head, guilt had eaten him up too.

“The pastor was moving, and I was offered to take over and be the pastor of the church. Of course I accepted. The church grew and grew. And the women came out in droves. I was strong for awhile. It was my fourth year, and that is when I gave over to the lust. I was introduced to the parties, I was introduced to porn. And so many orgies you could never imagine. I never did drugs. And it wasn’t until a year ago I had started drinking. That had begun to be my escape. I didn’t let you go this weekend, because I felt something good from you. When I asked you what you were doing this weekend, and you said rest on Saturday and go to church. I was bamboozled! He laughed. This woman has acted up and showed her ass! And she is still going to go to church? I thought it was interesting. And I knew, and heard highly of the minister’s church that you were a member of. I wanted to see something different of you.”

“Why when we left church you started right into touching and feeling all over me?”

“I really can’t say. But, it was a sweet, convicting torture. Seeing the people moved by what God had to say through the pastor. How eloquent of a speaker he was. I saw myself up there, right there on the podium. And I saw you, right there supporting me.”


“Yes. I am addicted to the sex. But I love God more than anything else.”

“Like me. You felt guilty about today?”

“Yes, very much. And that is why I kept myself busy. Tried to keep you a little buzzed so that I could get drunk. Bought you all of the things and spent the money that I did so that I could buy and wash the guilt away.”

“And it didn’t work did it?”

“No not at all. And I knew what you were thinking and feeling when you saw my bible right there on the table. I forgot I left it there. I have to remind myself who is really in charge. And that one day I would come back into the knowledge. I see you in me.”

“And that was the attraction.”

“Yes it was.”






“Just Toy”

Written Expressions











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