I've never been religious let alone a church-goer but Ethan is involved with his church so I attended services with him during the Christian Holy Week. I wanted to see what these services were like, and share the experience with him. I attended the Tenebrae service on Wednesday night and the Easter service on Sunday. I loved the Wednesday night service, which represented movement toward darkness symbolized by candles that were gradually extinguished throughout the service, followed by a loud noise symbolizing an earthquake that occurred after Jesus' death, and then followed by a single candle being lit to represent Jesus' resurrection. The service on Easter was festive and celebrated the rebirth of Jesus, and the church was packed. Prior to attending these services, I didn't know the Christian meaning of Easter, but what I did know was that I felt like a sinner among the attendees.
Andy and I had our third encounter the Thursday night / Friday morning before Easter. We had a difficult time connecting after he returned from Chicago, so he stopped by on his way home from work that night. After he returned from Chicago, he'd been busy working two jobs and getting his new business up and running so we hadn't seen each other in almost three weeks; we lounged on the sofa and caught up. Just before Andy left for Chicago, we had our second encounter - which involved us, two dildos, and my initiation into the world of "double penetration," after which I developed a UTI. I paid a visit to my doctor and wore my UTI like a flashing button that said "I finally had sex!! And it was great sex!!" My doctor shared my joy, gave me a prescription for antibiotic which eradicated my UTI a few days later. So it was good that my orifices and other body parts had a break from Andy. By our third encounter, the bruises on my calves from our second encounter faded but the welts remained (and still remain - I rather like them, demented girl that I am). Our third encounter involved only our bodies, and we rocked it for 4.5 hours. My left calf had a bruise the size of the bottom of my foot. Literally. I wear size 9.5 or 10 shoes (see photo below). My right calf had a much smaller bruise about the size of a fifty cent piece; just above my right breast was a small quarter-sized bruise. Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining. I love it when Andy bites me, and I have anemia and bruise more easily than usual these days. And the pleasure I derive when he bites me while he's fucking me is incredible, but these bruises were difficult to hide for a girl who had her heart set on wearing a particular dress to Easter services...
It was a pretty, colorful spring dress that would make June Cleaver proud: a 1950s style with a light blue background spattered with small yellow, pink, white, green, and purple polka dots with green spaghetti straps. I paired it with a pink cardigan sweater, chunky rattan heels, and a pearl necklace and matching earrings. My long hair laid softly below my shoulders, with soft swoopy bangs off to my right. I looked sweet, innocent, and - dare I say - angelic. My make-up was soft: mascara, light eye-liner, eye shadow, and pink lip gloss. But as I was choosing my eye shadow, one color caught my eye almost solely by virtue of its name: a very light golden peach color called "sin." Sin! While I don't believe in the idea of "sin" per se, I was feeling a little sinful because I'm not used to dating two men at once. Ethan knows about Andy, but Andy doesn't know about Ethan, mostly because there's nothing to tell. About two weeks after my second encounter with Andy, Ethan and I agreed that we were officially "dating" sans commitment but we haven't crossed any physical boundaries so I still view Ethan as just a friend rather than a lover, which is good because I only want to be physically intimate with one person. All of these thoughts and more were floating through my mind as I was getting ready for church. Wearing eye shadow named sin seemed befitting of my mood and perhaps a bit blasphemous given that I was going to church where people believed in sin. Satisfied with my preparations, I grabbed my bamboo handbag and checked myself out in the mirror. The pink cardigan hid the bruise on my chest. But the hem of my dress rested just below my knees. Andy's bruise was not visible straight on, but it was clearly visible when I walked. Oh well, I'd figure it out, right?
I arrived at the church and found Ethan. He saved seats for us near the front of the congregation. I was home sick Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and developed a cough on Saturday, so Ethan suggested I sit to the right of him and closest to the end of pew so that I could leave if my cough became too loud or uncontrollable. Perfect - Ethan sat on the other side of Andy's bruise. It was like God himself was watching over me. Well, not really...but it was fun to write. As I settled in, Ethan leaned into me and commented that I looked very pretty (he usually sees me without make-up and in yoga pants, t-shirts, or other comfy clothes); I blushed and thanked him, then whispered that my eye shadow was called "sin" which brought a smile to his face. He appreciates my dark side, and knows that I don't like organized religion but was pleased that I wanted to attended these church services with him. I was excited to share in Ethan's joy about Easter, but after the service began, my thoughts repeatedly wandered to my encounters with Andy. I crossed my left leg over my right, and pulled the hem of my dress down to cover the bruises on my calves. I couldn't help but think of Andy - my nipples were perma-erect and sore for several days, so much so that it hurt to wear a bra; even the water trickling from the shower head was too much. So there I was, sitting in church with Ethan on the holiest day of the Christian year, daydreaming about my clothed and unclothed encounters with Andy, actively concealing from Ethan the marks Andy left on my body, becoming increasingly aroused as I continued to think of Andy, and feeling confused because of my very different relationships with these two men.
I love Ethan, but, again, I see him as more of a friend than a lover, and I want to get to know Andy better. It's weird to have feelings for two men at once. Not that it's at all the same, but I finally understood Bella and her love for both Jacob and Edward. I think Ethan is my Jacob, and I'm looking for my Edward. It's not about the men; it's about me and how I feel when I'm with them. Who brings out my best qualities? I could see myself falling for Andy - he's as whacked and demented as me and it feels normal for both of us because it's what we both know, and I'm not gonna lie and say the fucking fantastic sex doesn't matter because it does - but we're still getting to know each other inside and outside the bedroom. You know how it is when you experience heartache, and you think you're never going to have feelings for anyone ever again? After my tumultuous relationship with the Egyptian, it felt wonderful to have feelings for Ethan and Andy because I thought it would be a long time before I had feelings for anyone again. My thoughts were running rampant, and I resigned to go with the flow, enjoy the moment, cut myself some slack, and laugh at my predicament. Better this than the alternative of no men at all, right? Ah, but the impending heartache...sigh. I can handle it. I'm virtually bulletproof in that regard.
During the service, we sat and stood a lot. It was like a Catholic wedding. We sang with the congregation - fortunately the church provided a program with lyrics. People dunked tree greens into holy water and sprinkled us with it. I was thankful I didn't shriek in pain like a vampire, but I felt cleansed of my alleged sins. I listened with intrigue to the pastor's sermon. He talked about chocolate, bunnies, eggs, wine, and technology and used it as a segway to discuss the Christian meaning of Easter. I took communion and cried the whole time. I felt like a hypocrite for participating rather than just observing, but I felt like participating. Rather than accept belief in Jesus Christ at communion, I accepted the in-a-nutshell meaning of Easter: rebirth and new beginnings. Could I do this? Not accept Jesus Christ and accept my own meaning of Easter? Many would say no, but I say yes and I did it. I was venturing down own my path rebirth and new beginnings. Who knows where my path will lead?
I'm glad I attended Easter services, I liked the message I gleaned, and Ethan was happy I was there. We wrapped up our Easter festivities with bunch at my place with my dear friend Bun Bun. I made waffles, we ate chocolate, and dyed and decorated hard boiled eggs. I tortured some bunny peeps. But before any of that, the first thing I did when I got home was change into sweat pants and a t-shirt because I didn't want my path to take me down the road of explanation about how I acquired the very large rigor mortis looking bruise on my left calf. For now, I owe no one any explanations, but I also don't want to lie about anything if I'm asked. I'm committed to no one, and neither of them is asking for my exclusivity. Maybe neither of them will. And if one of them does, who knows if I'll agree? I'll cross that bridge when and if the time comes. Perhaps I will have no decisions to make, as they'll make them for me by kicking my ass to the curb. What I do know is that Ethan is on his way over now, and I cannot wait to see Andy again.
Andy and I had our third encounter the Thursday night / Friday morning before Easter. We had a difficult time connecting after he returned from Chicago, so he stopped by on his way home from work that night. After he returned from Chicago, he'd been busy working two jobs and getting his new business up and running so we hadn't seen each other in almost three weeks; we lounged on the sofa and caught up. Just before Andy left for Chicago, we had our second encounter - which involved us, two dildos, and my initiation into the world of "double penetration," after which I developed a UTI. I paid a visit to my doctor and wore my UTI like a flashing button that said "I finally had sex!! And it was great sex!!" My doctor shared my joy, gave me a prescription for antibiotic which eradicated my UTI a few days later. So it was good that my orifices and other body parts had a break from Andy. By our third encounter, the bruises on my calves from our second encounter faded but the welts remained (and still remain - I rather like them, demented girl that I am). Our third encounter involved only our bodies, and we rocked it for 4.5 hours. My left calf had a bruise the size of the bottom of my foot. Literally. I wear size 9.5 or 10 shoes (see photo below). My right calf had a much smaller bruise about the size of a fifty cent piece; just above my right breast was a small quarter-sized bruise. Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining. I love it when Andy bites me, and I have anemia and bruise more easily than usual these days. And the pleasure I derive when he bites me while he's fucking me is incredible, but these bruises were difficult to hide for a girl who had her heart set on wearing a particular dress to Easter services...
It was a pretty, colorful spring dress that would make June Cleaver proud: a 1950s style with a light blue background spattered with small yellow, pink, white, green, and purple polka dots with green spaghetti straps. I paired it with a pink cardigan sweater, chunky rattan heels, and a pearl necklace and matching earrings. My long hair laid softly below my shoulders, with soft swoopy bangs off to my right. I looked sweet, innocent, and - dare I say - angelic. My make-up was soft: mascara, light eye-liner, eye shadow, and pink lip gloss. But as I was choosing my eye shadow, one color caught my eye almost solely by virtue of its name: a very light golden peach color called "sin." Sin! While I don't believe in the idea of "sin" per se, I was feeling a little sinful because I'm not used to dating two men at once. Ethan knows about Andy, but Andy doesn't know about Ethan, mostly because there's nothing to tell. About two weeks after my second encounter with Andy, Ethan and I agreed that we were officially "dating" sans commitment but we haven't crossed any physical boundaries so I still view Ethan as just a friend rather than a lover, which is good because I only want to be physically intimate with one person. All of these thoughts and more were floating through my mind as I was getting ready for church. Wearing eye shadow named sin seemed befitting of my mood and perhaps a bit blasphemous given that I was going to church where people believed in sin. Satisfied with my preparations, I grabbed my bamboo handbag and checked myself out in the mirror. The pink cardigan hid the bruise on my chest. But the hem of my dress rested just below my knees. Andy's bruise was not visible straight on, but it was clearly visible when I walked. Oh well, I'd figure it out, right?
I arrived at the church and found Ethan. He saved seats for us near the front of the congregation. I was home sick Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and developed a cough on Saturday, so Ethan suggested I sit to the right of him and closest to the end of pew so that I could leave if my cough became too loud or uncontrollable. Perfect - Ethan sat on the other side of Andy's bruise. It was like God himself was watching over me. Well, not really...but it was fun to write. As I settled in, Ethan leaned into me and commented that I looked very pretty (he usually sees me without make-up and in yoga pants, t-shirts, or other comfy clothes); I blushed and thanked him, then whispered that my eye shadow was called "sin" which brought a smile to his face. He appreciates my dark side, and knows that I don't like organized religion but was pleased that I wanted to attended these church services with him. I was excited to share in Ethan's joy about Easter, but after the service began, my thoughts repeatedly wandered to my encounters with Andy. I crossed my left leg over my right, and pulled the hem of my dress down to cover the bruises on my calves. I couldn't help but think of Andy - my nipples were perma-erect and sore for several days, so much so that it hurt to wear a bra; even the water trickling from the shower head was too much. So there I was, sitting in church with Ethan on the holiest day of the Christian year, daydreaming about my clothed and unclothed encounters with Andy, actively concealing from Ethan the marks Andy left on my body, becoming increasingly aroused as I continued to think of Andy, and feeling confused because of my very different relationships with these two men.
I love Ethan, but, again, I see him as more of a friend than a lover, and I want to get to know Andy better. It's weird to have feelings for two men at once. Not that it's at all the same, but I finally understood Bella and her love for both Jacob and Edward. I think Ethan is my Jacob, and I'm looking for my Edward. It's not about the men; it's about me and how I feel when I'm with them. Who brings out my best qualities? I could see myself falling for Andy - he's as whacked and demented as me and it feels normal for both of us because it's what we both know, and I'm not gonna lie and say the fucking fantastic sex doesn't matter because it does - but we're still getting to know each other inside and outside the bedroom. You know how it is when you experience heartache, and you think you're never going to have feelings for anyone ever again? After my tumultuous relationship with the Egyptian, it felt wonderful to have feelings for Ethan and Andy because I thought it would be a long time before I had feelings for anyone again. My thoughts were running rampant, and I resigned to go with the flow, enjoy the moment, cut myself some slack, and laugh at my predicament. Better this than the alternative of no men at all, right? Ah, but the impending heartache...sigh. I can handle it. I'm virtually bulletproof in that regard.
During the service, we sat and stood a lot. It was like a Catholic wedding. We sang with the congregation - fortunately the church provided a program with lyrics. People dunked tree greens into holy water and sprinkled us with it. I was thankful I didn't shriek in pain like a vampire, but I felt cleansed of my alleged sins. I listened with intrigue to the pastor's sermon. He talked about chocolate, bunnies, eggs, wine, and technology and used it as a segway to discuss the Christian meaning of Easter. I took communion and cried the whole time. I felt like a hypocrite for participating rather than just observing, but I felt like participating. Rather than accept belief in Jesus Christ at communion, I accepted the in-a-nutshell meaning of Easter: rebirth and new beginnings. Could I do this? Not accept Jesus Christ and accept my own meaning of Easter? Many would say no, but I say yes and I did it. I was venturing down own my path rebirth and new beginnings. Who knows where my path will lead?
I'm glad I attended Easter services, I liked the message I gleaned, and Ethan was happy I was there. We wrapped up our Easter festivities with bunch at my place with my dear friend Bun Bun. I made waffles, we ate chocolate, and dyed and decorated hard boiled eggs. I tortured some bunny peeps. But before any of that, the first thing I did when I got home was change into sweat pants and a t-shirt because I didn't want my path to take me down the road of explanation about how I acquired the very large rigor mortis looking bruise on my left calf. For now, I owe no one any explanations, but I also don't want to lie about anything if I'm asked. I'm committed to no one, and neither of them is asking for my exclusivity. Maybe neither of them will. And if one of them does, who knows if I'll agree? I'll cross that bridge when and if the time comes. Perhaps I will have no decisions to make, as they'll make them for me by kicking my ass to the curb. What I do know is that Ethan is on his way over now, and I cannot wait to see Andy again.
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| Bruise of Concealment |
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