The Art of Being F**ked Wide Open

February 28, 2014

My pussy ached from desire. Throbbing sensations quaked through my muscles and into my joints. I could feel heat in my womb as my chest grew tighter. It had been far to long since I felt open, passionate, clear, confident and orgasmic. Every part of my body and soul longed for him or any one of my lovers to just take me. It seemed as though I was meeting resistance from the universe through each man and through myself. The more I hungered for the transformative waves to force me into orgasmic surrender the farther they seemed out of my grasp. The more I became determined to speak of my hunger, to send signals that I was wet with anticipation and desire, the more the men in my life seemed to turn away. Lost in the illusions of depression, ego was at reign. There were far more important things to deal with then my physical neediness and hunger for bliss. After all, there were bills to pay, children to care for, and duties to tend to. This is what was needed. This is what I had to focus on. The masculine mind was ever present and with it came a discontent, disconnected vibration to life, to love, family, finance and any amount of abundance or joy. How could my desire for sex and the lack of filling it prevent me from experiencing happiness and abundance in other areas as well? Feeling as though there was possibly no hope and that these sensations that I had approached and waded through at other low times of my life journey were only raising their head yet again because of some lesson that I had thought I had learned but obviously had not, I decided that my pleasure, my surrender was in no ones hands but my own. A deep dedication to self pleasuring began to happen. At the sight of any form of sexual tension I found myself whisked off to the shower or taking a fifteen minute time out in the bedroom or closet, trying to simply alleviate some of the pinned up energy. Each time I dove into a quick self pleasuring act I felt as though my clit and entire pussy were on fire, as though I had an active ready to blow any minute volcano between my legs. Finding it hard to remain present with myself, facing old programs of shame for touching myself, fear of getting caught I could not even bring myself to relish in a fantasy to increase my pleasure. I was simply jacking off as quickly as I could. Not surrendering to my desire and certainly not allowing myself to fully be penetrated by love or life. Each 5 to 10 minute masturbation excursion left me even more lost, distant, depressed and hungry for connection and ravishing. The thing I knew but was ignoring was the simple fact that I was not only malnourished in the act of sexing, but I was depleted from the energy of the deep connection that a gourmet session of sex would give. I was lacking in the life giving nutrients of the positive mood enhancers that orgasm would provide. In my inability to surrender even to myself I had also slammed shut the door to my lovers, making it physically impossible for me to go deep enough in any sex act offered. The need to be taken was me wanting to give credit or push blame on someone else instead of being proactive and realizing that even in the physical connection process of making love it was up to ONLY me to be open, expansive and happy. My being taken started by my releasing into the now. By making my sex conscious and staying present with my body and with my partner I could then accept the pleasure and the release that would come from it. Only through this consciousness could I embrace life so strongly that it would use my lovers body to fuck me wide open.

It was with this realization that opportunity was given for me to open up to trust and to orgasm. My desire was not for sex, it was not for release or climax it was only for penetration. To me to be taken meant that I surrendered to life through my lover. There we were snuggled in bed as though it were any other winter night. All these thoughts dancing through my mind wanting to be vocalized, my heart wanting to be penetrated, to be circumcised. I could hear the call of my pussy begging my hands to reach out and touch him, to encourage the game to begin. My mouth watered and even though we had been lovers for some time and he knew me passionately and intimately to my core I felt a tremble of fear that he would deny me my desire. The unspoken words must have been heavy in the air because without hesitation his hand slipped over my naked hip and across my stomach. His fingers danced on the seat of my clit, slowly pulling its hood back so that he could access the spot. His hand warm to the touch washed over my vulva, a finge r plowing deep into my wetness. I could feel butterflies fluttering from pussy to heart as I leaned into him and gasped for a breath before allowing his tongue to plunge deep into my mouth. His fingers knew exactly how to play me and with each kiss I felt my body soften. Spreading my legs for him as though I was opening the gates to a great coliseum and he was the gladiator. His fingers stroking not only my clit anymore but now curving upward with each internal stroke, I could feel my G-spot expand as well as my sponge fill. The time had come, he pressed his hard throbbing cock deep into me. He did not stop to ask, he did not pause at my velvet gates, he just lovingly and forcefully took us both to the next level. His clear direction and focus lead his cock to my outer walls. I desperately wanted to feel him yet deeper in me. I wanted him to fuck my heart. Consciously I lay there beneath him, our bodies swaying in harmony, my pussy tightening and sucking on him with each focused muscle spasm. My desire growing to be fucked wide open in this moment, I knew there was only one way to achieve my desire and pull him deeper. My consciousness became focused on opening the door he was knocking on. With each gentle nudge of his penis head on my cervix I breathed and relaxed, I visualized embracing him like I had not done before. Slowly I felt the pressure release into emotion and heart pounding bliss. It was as if there were a penetration happening within a penetration. The surrender was expansive and I could feel him penetrate my core, my heart, my soul. Tears welled up in my eyes as my heart shook in orgasm. Life was knocking at my womb.