Sweet tears, sacred love

One 2812341774_c7095a7c6e_mmoment, our lips explore each other with delightful wonder. The three of us are playing, expanding, discovering new landscapes, greeting our edges gently and compassionately.

And then, sweet tears, sacred love. I see you. I hold you. I love you. Never before have I received such a precious gift, such vulnerable beauty. I am lying supine beneath you, and our faces are so close, the crystal water spills from your eyes and onto my face, into my own eyes. We are tear sisters, fluid bonded in a way I have never conceived of prior to this.

We gently lay you down, cradle you, receive you, hold space. There is nothing to fix, nothing to change, all is perfect.

Thank you, beautiful soul, for your divine gifts.

 

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Today’s inkblot: gang bang or sacred play?

olivier-valsecchi ink blot
Photo by Olivier Valsecchi

I have just had a black leather blindfold gently placed over my eyes. I am told to stand up and bend forward. Strong muscles under warm soft skin wrap around my torso and I am lifted into a fireman’s carry over the shoulder of a man who has never before experienced my touch. I am carried with ease up a flight of stairs. Foot steps follow us.

My feet brush across a doorway frame, we are in a room. More hands reach for me, as I am carefully lowered into a pair of straps mounted to a ceiling. Whispers help guide me into a swing. It’s my first time in a sex swing.

All of my lovers go silent. Hands gently cradle my head so I can completely sink into my surroundings. I inhale, find that place in my heart of trust, relax my body as I exhale, and prepare to offer the ultimate gift of total surrender of my body over to the care of my lovers. The gift, is to myself.

For the next two hours, I experience a flow unlike anything I have ever known. Several lovers (including one friend I have never been intimate with) are here to worship me, take me, over and over, without ever making a sound. I let go of any curiosity as to who is inside of me, who has just thrust themselves into my eager mouth, who is at my neck, my breasts. I am the only one making noise, and my moans erupt freely, pulsing in parallel to the pleasure I am swimming in.

With salience, I remember this feeling inside me. As if crossing through a portal, I have completely returned to erotic innocence. I hope that you, the reader, have a youthful memory that involves the compassionate curiosity of our earliest experiences of sexuality. If you are so blessed, you will remember it when you find it again as I did. A moment where you know you are so safe, so loved, so held, that you can say ‘no’ or make a request with no fear of trauma or judgement. And your lovers can receive that ‘no’ without ever taking it personally or projecting any meaning. All our memories of woundedness melt away, and we are simply present, curious, and playful.

This was my birthday wish. To shed a layer of shame, the internalized oppression of self judgement – slut, dirty, cheap – that comes with growing up in a world where my sex and my sexuality is feared, judged, and objectified. I created a scenario to challenge those beliefs to the core. Like ophidiophobia (fear of snakes), I chose graded exposure to face my fears. And lovers, you obliged.

Mating_ball_of_garter_snakes
Garter snakes mating

I feel so much bliss right now, so much love, so blessed. I am awake and aroused. Pleasure is safe, pleasure is beautiful, pleasure is a divine gift. Thank you for this ultimate birthday present: sexual healing.

 

Two lovers, please universe

wishing_star_by_oh_my_jaThe first kiss was gentle and filled with respect and friendship. Every move was intentional, delicate, and graceful. He carefully undressed me and with every new inch of our bodies that we gifted to each other, our eyes would connect and we would smile and offer a playful but quiet giggle. It felt right to offer myself fully that morning, and we made love as though we had been best friends for years and with the clear intention of celebrating that friendship in a way that could never be compromised. As the first rays of sun fell upon us, we curled up in sweet sweat and drifted away in each other’s arms. When we awoke mid-morning, the room was just as tender and happy and we dressed and started our day with deep appreciation for our friendship that was forever now more special than it had been before. We enjoyed coffee and shared stories with my roommates, revelling in the lingering memories from the previous night. Before leaving, he pulled out a blue hemp anklet from his bag, telling me that he was learning how to make them, and that he had made this one the day before. As he had made it, he said he did not know who it was for. This morning, he knew the answer and without hesitation, placed it around my ankle with that same delicate love that he had shared with me the previous night. The turquoise colour perfectly matched the shirt I had chosen to wear that day. Sweet serendipity.

The rest of the weekend I spent completely buzzed out on life. I had a wonderful friendship with Nick, and meanwhile I was also crushing on Derek. Remembering that I had asked the universe for two lovers before leaving the country to return home, I wondered if Derek would be my second? I certainly did not want to make assumptions, but I had a feeling about Derek still that I could not kick. And I was not alone. I met with my friend Chelsea later the day after the party, and she quickly asked me “so who is that Derek fellow? How long have you been hanging out with him?”. I replied that I had only just met him at the party. She was surprised , adding that the energy between us seemed very familiar. I acknowledged that I felt the same way, and was happily surprised to hear that it was not just me noticing the connection between Derek and I. A couple of days later, my friend Jill asked me the same thing. So it was obvious to the world that Derek and I did, indeed, have something special brewing. Perhaps my sixth sense was right.

photo credit

Quartet

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Photo courtesy of erosphotos.com

 


A string of perfect moments. Juicy, swept-away-into-bliss, bodies, rhythmic perfection, harmonious connection. This isn’t our first time, it’s the fourth actually. Yet it’s been this good. Every time. I am surrendering into a sea of lovers, four of us, moving with the grace and harmony of a string quartet. Direction undulates among us, now leading, now following, this sensual dance that elegantly draws one moment to the next. Conscious and playful, sensitive and intuitive, intense and loving, adventurous and courageous. Four hearts intertwined, limbs writhing in synchronous pleasure, snakes at the bottom of a ravenous pit of ecstatic bliss. Coiling, slithering, succumbing, suggesting. Laughter, moans, a collective breath. Lungs and lingam and tongues tasting beads of sweat, sweet scents. My lips, mouth, face all repeatedly, rhythmically pounded, from the roots up into your mons pubis, as I lay prone before you and take direction from the pelvic thrusts of my hungry lover behind me. Continue reading