Living for the flesh to me means you got a major horndog on your hands. I’m surprised to hear the term being used seriously. Sounds like an American Christian thing to me—a very special breed indeed.
In the last twenty years I’ve notice a rather significant turn-around from a lot of Christians on the subject of sex. The whole Kama Sutra seems to be OK with them nowadays, as long as it’s between hetero married couple. Don’t laugh. It still may be vanilla, but there’s been some interesting toppings added and that’s a major concession for these people.
I have a friend, a woman, who meets me at the yacht club now and then for cocktails on Friday afternoons. We’re both flat broke, by the way, and that’s our little secret. Any way, it’s one of the few places here to have drinks with Americans and Brits. She has a friend there who is a church-going Christian. Episcopal, I think. The three of us were talking while nursing our drinks when this friend invited my friend to join her in going to church on Sunday. Then this very attractive lady turns to me a smiles, moves in close while pretending to button the top button of my shirt, looks me in the eye and says, “I won’t ask you. You don’t look like the church-going type.”
Jesus Christ. That’s not the bible beaters I remember. I still don’t know what to think of it. My friend laughed her ass off afterwards. You don’t look like the church-going type. That’s some damn good radar you got there, lady. (Well, it’s true that I haven’t gone regularly since I was in highschool). But WTF was that?