He was a 33-year-old vice president of a Fortune 500 company–a six-foot-three, blond-haired, blue eyed Mormon, who spoke three languages and made six figures. I was a 28-year-old unemployed atheist writer with a history of substance abuse, with questionable morals, and at a point in my life where I was feeling lost, alone, searching for answers, and in desperate need of some hardcore structure in my life.

I approached this dating situation the same way I approach anything in life. I was like a freaking sponge. I wanted to learn everything about him and his religion. I even spent the days leading up to our meeting Googling “how to date a Mormon” and reading the complete wikiHow guide with pictures included.

We got along great. We talked about intellectual subjects on our sober dinner dates. We indulged in desserts with decaf coffees while I soaked up stories from his mission to Germany. And we discussed his religion (at length) at my apartment while we weren’t having any intercourse.

He conducted himself like the perfect Mormon gentleman. I was so impressed he was able to live his life by this strict code of ethics without ever compromising his beliefs. Well, that was up until date number three, when things moved from dinner on the couch to dessert in the bedroom.

It started out as mostly “dry humping.” But then the efforts turned from innocent to purposeful, and it became clear where things were heading (pun intended). I wasn’t going to hold back. If someone was going to go stop things, it would have to be him.

Before I knew it, I had been fully satisfied without ever having removed my pants. It turns out a girl can have multiple orgasms while still being fully clothed and not actually having any skin-on-skin contact. Score one for the Mormon home team.

As he got up to stretch his legs and do a victory walk around my bedroom, I started thinking, “Am I really going to let him leave without returning the favor?” I had no choice but to speak up. “I don’t know what you’re comfortable with or what’s allowed here. But we are both adults. It’s silly for you to leave unsatisfied.” To make a long (pun intended. Score two for the Mormon home team) story short, I finished the job.

I was pleased with myself but found it odd that he had somehow managed to rewrite the book of Mormon in the 30 seconds leading up to his decision to let me go wrap up the job and go down on him. I suppose it’s possible he had a magic phone in his magic underwear that allowed him to call Heaven and ask John Smith for permission, but I don’t remember seeing him call anyone.

When I comforted him about how far he was willing to take things compared to how far he was supposed to take things, he explained that he used to follow much more rigid sexual dating practices (strictly following his Mormon faith). But this had led him into a bad marriage with terrible sex and, ultimately, a divorce. Thus he is choosing to bend the rules in order to be certain he finds better chemistry with his next wife. His “modified Mormonism” allowed him to do everything with a girl but actual intercourse. As long as there was “no penetration,” he considered himself staying true to his faith’s strict no-sexual-conduct-before-marriage policy. He was the Mormon non-President, non-married Bill Clinton.

How could I get on board with a religion if the person representing it just basically admitted to me that the rules he lives by are preventing him from entering into a viable, happy, healthily, fulfilling marriage?

I learned two lessons from my Mormon blow job:

If you’re going to go “all in,” go all in. (And I’m talking about with your religious practice, not with your penis!) You need to have a code of ethics one can uphold fully without compromise, or what the hell (pun intended) is the point of having them?

After the Christ child left my apartment (he was going to stay over and cuddle but it was a Saturday night and he had to be up early for church) , I sat down to come up with my own code of ethics. If it weren’t for that blowjob I might still be a lost soul searching for god to save me. Thankfully, I’ve decided to save myself.