LET'S TALK ABOUT SEX! PART III

Milton, here for Kristy:

More on Sex for the Saints.

How did the church get into such an insignificant role in modeling how real relations should be between husbands and wives? Does anyone have any idea? 

Kristy had such a passion to share romance and participate in romance that it is really impossible to describe. Her writings ooze it. Our experience enjoyed it. Her heart beat it.  She felt that the Bible had so much to say on the subject and that we should be open and get to the point and not act so prudish and backward on sharing this important part of life.

It is a little risky for me to venture into this area with her gone, but I believe she would be pleased and is smiling at my writings. One day she wrote this about kissing. Boy did we ever work on this kissing business. 

Just read what she wrote.

Kristy, here on July 12,2006:

 A one-minute kiss works off 26 calories. (Kristy's note: Have you ever tried to kiss for one whole, entire minute? Sheesh. That's a long time on the kissing clock. But it's fun trying. Wednesdays are Milton's study days in our home office for sermon preparation, and he's sitting behind me at his desk right now.

"Milton," I say, "Marriage Partnership says you can burn 26 calories with a one-minute kiss."

"Twenty-six calories?" he says. "How can that be?" His right eyebrow raises. "You gotta' be doing more than kissing."

I cackle. "Come on. Let's try it."

He's game. Always.

We position ourselves so I can watch the clock.

The second hand hits the 15 mark. "Okay," I say. "Let's start."

We start kissing. Fifteen seconds go by.

His hands start sliding downward.

I swat them away, my lips locked on his.

Twenty-five seconds go by. I remember that quote about smiling during kissing. Oh, yes. Something about relaxation. Well, I'm definitely not thinking about anything but kissing Milton.

Thirty-five seconds. More hand movement. His hands again. Sheesh. Now I know why he's part Italian. He has Roman hands. (Not really. That's an old joke I've told him for years.)

Forty-five seconds. Our lips are still locked. This is fun.

Sixty seconds.

"Okay," I say. "We did it."

"Forget my sermon," he says.