Chapter 92: A Very Principled Response

March 20, 1988, Sunday of Saint John of the Ladder, McKinley, Ohio

As we’d planned, Becka left early on Sunday morning so she could join her mom at Saint Augustine, while Rachel and I headed to Saint Michael the Archangel. I’d enjoyed the time Becka and I had together, but I wondered if there was a way forward, as she was obviously perplexed by how our relationship had developed and where it might be headed. Given the intense challenges we’d face, she had to be sure, and I had to be sure she was sure, lest things end in disaster.

As I drove, I thought more about the choice between Dani, Sara, and Becka, and it was blindingly clear that a relationship with Becka would be the most challenging, by far, comparable to the challenges a relationship with Annette would create, though not quite so difficult given Becka and I would stay in Ohio.

The futures presented by the girls were starkly different, though the gap between Dani and Sara was far smaller than the gap from either of them to Becka. Becka would have a career to which she was as dedicated as I was to mine. That presented challenges, but not ones as severe as the ones Maryam and I would have had. And, I smiled wryly as I thought about it, would have been very similar to what a future with Jocelyn would have been like had we not wrecked our relationship.

Dani’s plan was to follow her mom’s path, going to college once the kids were in school, and then teaching. Sara hadn’t made any specific plans, though she did intend to go to college, either immediately if we didn’t marry, or at some point in the future after we had kids. That was the path I felt Elizaveta would most likely have followed, and one I’d have encouraged, but now I would never know.

I wondered what it was about Becka that was pushing me to consider her despite the major challenges. I couldn’t put my finger on anything specific before I arrived at church, and once I pulled into the parking lot, I pushed those thoughts away and focused on worship. Once I parked, Rachel and I went into the church, I took off our jackets, and we went into the nave to await the start of Matins. I purchased and lit three candles, one for Rachel, one for Elizaveta, and one for myself, then carried Rachel to our usual spot.

Five hours later, after Matins, the Divine Liturgy, a light meal, and Sunday School, Rachel and I headed home.

Sara arrived about ten minutes after we did, and I greeted her with a tight hug and a nice kiss.

“One more week until your bat is in my glove!” Sara declared giddily.

“If a bat is in a glove, something is seriously wrong with your baseball game!” I teased.

“And if your ball is in my glove, something is seriously wrong with your screwing!” she retorted.

“OK, so we both agree the metaphor breaks down!”

“Good news, bad news,” Sara said as we walked into the great room. “I got my period last night.”

“That sounds like good news, because it means next Saturday we’ll see if you’re up for beating my home run record!”

“Don’t YOU have to be up for that to happen?” Sara teased.

“Obviously! Why is your period bad news? Or was there something else?”

“I meant my period because you can’t use your mouth there.”

“Not only can, but would,” I said firmly.

“You’d kiss and lick me between my legs even though I had my period?!”

“Before I answer, what word would you like to use for that part of your body?”

Sara laughed, “You’d kiss and lick my pussy even though I had my period?!”

“Did you have any qualms at all about me ejaculating in your mouth or swallowing my semen?”

“No!” Sara said with a soft laugh. “I liked having your dick in my mouth, tasting your cum, and swallowing it!”

“Did I hesitate to French kiss you, even when you didn’t swallow first?”

Sara laughed, “No! And that was totally cool! I loved how it felt with your cum on both our tongues!”

“And you certainly didn’t hesitate to kiss me with my face covered with your venereal fluids, or to lick them from my fingers.”

“Don’t you mean ‘pussy juice’?” she asked impishly.

“Yes!” I chuckled.

“And I’ll suck you after you slide into home, too!”

“Good to know! Continuing my questions, I’m going to guess that you’ve cut your finger and stuck it in your mouth or licked a wound, right?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked.

“You’re not pulling my leg? You don’t think it’s gross?”

“If French kissing isn’t gross, and fellatio and cunnilingus aren’t gross, and swallowing my semen isn’t gross, and tasting yourself isn’t gross, and promising to suck me after I’ve ejaculated inside you, then what’s the big deal about a bit of menstrual blood?”

Sara was quiet, clearly thinking through the argument.

“When you put it that way,” she said a moment later, “I guess it’s not a big deal. People actually do that?”

“It’s called ‘earning your red wings’, which refers to menstrual blood on the guy’s cheeks, usually from blood on the girl’s inner thighs via his chin. And yes, I’ve done it.”

“I’d say that’s weird, but no weirder than something one of my friends said she did with her boyfriend.”

I had a pretty good idea what that was, but felt it was better for Sara to say it than for me to prompt.

“What was that?” I asked.

“She had her period, and he wanted to fool around. She doesn’t like giving blowjobs, so he convinced her to let him put it in her butt. She hated it and told him she’d never do it again.”

“I suspect she wishes she’d given him a blowjob!” I chuckled.

“She won’t let him cum in her mouth, ever, so I wouldn’t bet on that. Do you think what they did was weird?”

“No. People do all kinds of things, and so long as they’re consensual, I don’t find it weird, just atypical, though that one is fairly common, at least in terms of experimenting. But back to what you called ‘bad news’. If you find it too weird, then we don’t do it.”

“But it feels SO good!” Sara exclaimed.

“I’ll leave it up to you. There are plenty of other things we could do. But first, I want to ask you a question, but it’s just a question, not implying anything.”

“What’s that?” she asked warily.

“You made your intentions clear and had a fully formulated plan. What was your plan before I was laïcized?”

“I’m pretty sure we talked about it, and I said I hadn’t decided if I’d go to college or work, and I don’t really have to decide until September or October. There will be plenty of time to get my college applications in and I’ve already scheduled the SAT and ACT in July. I’m sure I told you I wanted to have kids in my early twenties. I know you said you weren’t implying anything, but asking the question means you’re thinking about that possibility.”

“I haven’t made any decisions,” I said. “And that’s mainly because I don’t trust myself to decide right now.”

“Because of how you feel about Elizaveta, right?”

“Yes. I’m doing a lot better, but I’m still trying to sort out my emotions and my spirituality. But it’s not just that, really. I know what you want to do next week, and I wonder how you’ll feel if we do that and then we don’t marry.”

“If being a virgin on my wedding night was important, I wouldn’t have allowed the runners to advance past second base! As for only having sex with one guy, I never really thought about it in those terms. It was always that being a virgin wasn’t important to me. I guess the answer is that I probably would have at Prom or in college, but I can’t say for sure because I wasn’t thinking specifically about when it would happen. You’re worried I might be angry or freak out or go on a bunny-boiling rampage?”

I chuckled, “You’ve mentioned that a few times now! Maybe I should worry!”

“The only thing you need to worry about is breaking your home run record!”

“I’ll ask Anna to watch Rachel. She’ll have her already because of the concert the night before. We won’t have band practice, and I can get Rachel at any time, including at church on Sunday morning.”

“I wish I could spend the night, but my parents would never agree, and trying to sneak could backfire pretty badly. What time should I show up on Saturday?”

“I want to make sure I get enough sleep after the concert so I’m able to fulfill your wishes, so let’s say 9:00am?”

“OK! When is Rachel going down for her nap today?”

“In about an hour.”

“And we can play?”

“Absolutely.”

“I want you to lick me, if you’re really OK with doing it.”

“I am. Are you OK with me kissing you afterwards?”

Sara made a face as if she was tasting something she didn’t like, but then laughed and said, “Go for it!”

I couldn’t immediately, because Rachel was with us. I cuddled her, read to her, and tried to help her stand, but her legs were still unsteady. When she yawned and lay down on her stomach on the floor, I scooped her up and carried her upstairs. I put her in her crib, covered her with her blanket, turned on the baby monitor, then closed the door to her room.

I stopped in my bedroom and got a large towel that I didn’t care about and took it downstairs to find Sara waiting for me in just her panties. I spread the towel on the rug, undressed, and then removed Sara’s panties, which had a blood-soaked pad in them.

We lay down on the rug, I French kissed her, suckled her breasts, then kissed my way down to her mons. Because I didn’t penetrate her with my tongue, it wasn’t nearly as messy as when I’d done it on two occasions in the past. I brought her off twice, then moved up to French kiss her, which she received enthusiastically.

“It’s mostly in your beard and on your cheeks,” Sara said after we broke the kiss.

“I focused on your clit, and because you didn’t want me to put my tongue inside, there was very little blood on my lips from when I kissed your labia. Disappointed?”

Sara laughed softly, “I just expected it to be worse!”

I grinned, slid down, kissed her labia to get blood on my lips, ran the flat of my tongue over them, then moved up and gave her a deep French kiss.

“You mean like that?” I chuckled when I broke the kiss.

“You’re certifiable!” Sara declared.

“I don’t think I, or anyone I know, would debate that point!”

“What a mess!” she exclaimed, looking at her thighs and the grey towel which protected the rug.

“We could take a shower,” I said. “Or we can save that for next week.”

“A SHOWER?!” she asked excitedly. “TOGETHER?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh, God, yes!”

“Bubble baths are fun, too!”

“Can I ask you something without implying anything?”

“Sex lessons! The Doctor is in! That’ll be 5¢, please!”

“I think you can charge way more than Lucy does!”

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

“But if you try to move the football next Saturday, I’ll cut it off!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, too!”

“The thing my friend did? She said it didn’t feel good at all. Why do people do it?”

“First, it can be very uncomfortable without proper use of lubricant, and I suspect he might have used saliva, which isn’t even close to being proper. I have lubricant in case we need it for your first time, but as wet as you get, we probably won’t need it. That said, I might use it just to be safe.”

“Safe?”

“I haven’t been able to explore the Promised Land!” I chuckled. “I’m somewhat bigger than average, and if your vaginal muscles are tight, then the additional lubricant will help. And trust me, tight pussy is a dream!”

Sara laughed, “I bet! You’ll fill me up nicely, I’m sure! So, back to why?”

“People can have all kinds of reasons, including wanting to experiment, wanting to please their partner, or avoiding pregnancy. I’ve heard of girls offering it to preserve technical virginity.”

“Technical?”

“You, right now, are technically a virgin because I haven’t penetrated you, but do you think your dad would say we’ve had sex?”

“I think that’s a lock!”

“So you’ve had sex, but haven’t had intercourse. Technically, you’re a virgin, but do you feel like one?”

“Interesting question,” Sara said. “I mean, yes, because we haven’t actually done it, but cumming in my mouth and licking my pussy is sex. I see your point. She said it didn’t feel good. What about for the guy?”

“For the guy, it’ll feel good,” I replied. “It’ll create friction, it’s warm, and he’ll ejaculate. For the girl, it can be an act of submission, and some girls are excited by that, and some aren’t. Typically, some kind of clitoral stimulation would accompany anal penetration, that way the girl has pleasure, too. She could use her fingers, he could use his, or they could use a vibrator. If two guys are doing it, manual stimulation of the submissive partner would do it. And for completeness, you can buy a harness that would allow a woman to use a dildo to penetrate a guy. That could also be used by lesbians to simulate penetrative heterosexual sex.”

“Whoa!” Sara gasped. “Things they didn’t even hint at in health class!”

“No kidding! And most of it was only glossed over in my courses at Taft and in medical school. Most of the information I have, comes from my gay friends and friends who had a much wider range of experiences than I’d had at the time.”

“Implying you’ve done some of that?”

“I permitted one young woman to penetrate me that way.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was uncomfortable, but she wanted to try, so I agreed. The same is true for anal sex. It was suggested, and I agreed to do it. Neither of those are things I’d offer to do, but I’d consider a request to do them. On the other hand, your breasts are just large enough to do what I said, and I do enjoy that on occasion.”

“You mean cum on my face?”

“Yes.”

“And you’d lick it off?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s do that before we shower, then I’ll give you the best blowjobs in the world whenever Rachel is sleeping!”

Sara was much smaller than Susana, but was, as I’d observed, just big enough to accomplish our goal. After I came, I French kissed her after licking up each drop, and once I’d finished, we went upstairs to take a shower.

Sara very much enjoyed me washing her body, removing the remnants of sticky cum and the menstrual blood which was smeared on her thighs. Sara washed me as well, ensuring her blood was washed from my beard and cheeks.

She put the soap on the shelf, lowered herself to her knees and gave me a fantastic blowjob, standing up immediately after the last spurt and French kissing me with a mouth full of my cum, which was shared back and forth. After we broke the kiss, she finished washing me, we dried each other, then went downstairs to dress.

We’d just finished dressing when I heard Rachel call, which switched our activities to caring for my daughter and making dinner. We didn’t get a chance to fool around again because Lara arrived just after we finished eating dinner. The four of us said our evening prayers, I bade the girls goodbye, and headed to the hospital.

March 21, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

“I had an interesting talk with Sara last night,” Lara said when I arrived home on Monday evening.

“She didn’t leave right away?”

“No. We got to talking and hung out until around 9:30pm.”

I picked up Rachel and cradled her.

“And?”

“And I think you asked me to keep my opinions to myself!”

“Permission granted to speak your mind,” I said as we went to the kitchen so I could have dinner.

“Sara is an interesting mix of a grown woman and teenager,” Lara said after I said the prayers of blessing, “which I think is normal for someone her age. She has a good head on her shoulders, but needs seasoning, if you will.”

I almost said ‘She tastes fine to me!’ but that was something I couldn’t reveal without express permission from Sara, and I didn’t have it.

I nodded, “That’s absolutely the case.”

“OK to make a comparison?”

“I do that on occasion, even though I’ve resolved not to, so go ahead.”

“Elizaveta was wiser and less starry-eyed. Don’t get me wrong about Sara. I believe she understands what she’s doing, but she does seem to have a rosy scenario in mind. Not that she thinks your medical training won’t be demanding, but that it’ll be easy for her to handle. Elizaveta never had that feeling; rather she was determined to handle it. Do you see the difference?”

“Yes. And I agree with you.”

“I’m not saying that should determine your choice, but it is something to think about. And something to ask yourself about Dani and Becka.”

“Dani,” I said, “from everything I can tell, has the same approach as Elizaveta. In fact, except for genetic differences, they could almost be the same person. That said, Dani is four years older than Elizaveta was when Elizaveta and I were betrothed, so has had more time to experience life.

“And while I could say that if a formula works, stick with it, I also have to ask myself if I’m finding Elizaveta’s replacement or her successor. The distinction is crucial in my mind. As is the question of whether that is what’s best for Rachel and me? I don’t know the answer to that question at this point. If the answer is ‘yes’, then my decision is easy. If not, then I have a stark choice between Becka and Sara.”

“Or maybe there’s another option just around the corner. Not to mention you could decide to accept the severe stress and challenges to get a certain sexy Syrian girl into your bed!”

“If we’re going down that route, then either you or I could change our spirituality sufficiently to make it work.”

“May I give a few examples that I think clearly demonstrate the disconnect?”

“Of course.”

“You say your morning and evening prayers zealously, and never miss. I rarely say them, and in fact, the only time I do is when I’m here. It’s just not my thing. The same goes for praying before meals; you do it without fail, but it’s not something that matters all that much to me. Neither does regular confession. You worry about every stray thought; I think confession is only for the most egregious of sins. I don’t include sleeping with you on that list, even though you eventually will confess your inter-marriage escapades.

“You and I love each other, and we make a great team, but barring you hitting your head and waking up something other than someone who is zealous about their faith, it’ll cause conflicts. If Elizaveta’s death didn’t cause a change, I don’t know that anything could. As I see it, that issue is the one that should be controlling. If Becka or Sara or Dani can’t or won’t participate in daily prayers, they aren’t good for you.”