We believe that there’s no limit to what we can do in our marital bed. We don’t do everything in our home, but only because we’ve decided some things simply don’t interest us. Should something spark an interest, it’s worth consideration. As always, to be clear, the line is drawn at the marriage itself; adultery isn’t kosher. But everything else is fair game.
Lingerie? Check. Toys? Check. Leather whips, velvet ties, and sturdy blindfolds? Check, check, and check. Ice cubes, hot wax, ice water, hot tub? Checks all around.
Whipped cream to body shots, wedges to swings; lap dances and costumes, vibrators and rings.
Creative sex is often weird, frequently clumsy, occasionally uncomfortable, and sometimes even a little painful. But sighs, moans, tears, fears, giggles from lips and wiggles of hips… it’s just so stinking fun!
In the Past
I wasn’t always like that. At one time, the closest thing to sex games we’d play was “Race the PM”, an exhausting experience wherein we would both take Tylenol PM due to the need to sleep and try to make a quickie happen before they kicked in. Exciting…
Personally, I felt the need to repress my more countercultural (from a Christian perspective), rambunctious side. Oh, I’d let some of it slip out a bit: “Would you be willing to dance for me?” But held back, and that reservation sabotaged my wife’s confidence when she humored my requests, making me bury my “tendencies” deeper.
I feared she’d think I was a perverted psycho, and out of fear for her fragile self-esteem, I deliberately avoided drawing attention to her “imperfections” despite the fact that I liked them so much I wanted to constantly caress and kiss each one.
The Devil’s a Liar
When I held back, she assumed there was something wrong with her.
But the devil’s a liar. When I held back, she assumed there was something wrong with her. When I avoided her imperfections, she assumed it was because I found them unattractive, which only made her self-esteem more fragile, which only made me more cautious… You see the vicious cycle?
I let the devil brainwash us for years, and it affected more than our sex life. My pastor once told me, “Sex in a Christian marriage is a good indicator of the health of the marriage.” If that’s true, and I believe it is, then our marriage was plain but well-intentioned, physically present but emotionally deceived, and containing only the faintest echoes of novelty.
Intentionally Turning on the Red Light
Today, that’s not the case, and I thank God. I have poured out my lusty heart to my wife — tentatively at first as I gauged her response, but eventually throwing wide the floodgates — and to my surprise, I’ve found a foxy little hornball of a wife with a greater sexual appetite than me at times.
Now, we’re always willing to try something, and we never condemn (though we’ve never promised not to tease) one another for our ideas or fantasies, no matter how weird or disturbing to our sensibilities. We encourage each other to share, and when we can, we make ideas a reality.
I don’t mean to say that our marriage is an perpetual two-person orgy. Work, kids, church, and other activities step into our lives as much as the next couple. We must intentionally prioritize and strategically plan our sex lives. I don’t mean we have sex marked on our agenda at 9:15pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with a tentative engagement penciled in every other Sunday afternoon.
We do, however, share and brainstorm ideas for fun encounters and arrange for regular opportunities for magic to potentially happen. If we don’t make time for it, it’s not likely to happen.
Sex in a Christian marriage is a good indicator of the health of the marriage.
Sometimes, that means locking the door to prevent awkward moments (“Mommy, is Daddy under arrest?”). Sometimes that means waiting until the kids go to bed and we can play Monopoly our way. And sometimes, it just means being spontaneous enough to throw some caution to the wind and just accept the risks of having to say, “No, honey. Daddy just likes wearing handcuffs sometimes.”
But with our commitment to each other and some deliberate effort, we can share a level of sensuality that is fiery enough to make Sodom jealous yet holy enough to make God say, “Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill of love.” (Song of Solomon 5:15 NIV)
Now, I’ll admit this might not be for everyone. This kind of transparency requires a level of vulnerability that many marriages aren’t ready for (perhaps due to emotional wounds or spiritual unhealth) and a degree of commitment many relationships simply don’t have. But in our case, we’ve found that our sex enriches our marriage thanks to the new levels of trust, honesty, and intimacy we experience.
The “red light” I’m mentioning is more about sexuality in general. I’m not endorsing prostitution. Do I really need to disclaim this?
Originally posted 2015-02-13 06:03:40.