Category: Slow Sex


On the path to awakening, sexual awakening, a woman comes to admit that she loves cock. Loves to suck it, stroke it, look at it, hold it, feel it, engulf it. It is a time that can be neither feigned nor faked. It comes from overflow – and solely from overflow. It comes when she is so full of orgasm that her body needs something to spill over onto. It is a significant point in a woman’s experience because this moment of realization is built on having passed through a lot of gateways. It means that she has moved through the first stage where she gives with the hope of getting. The mainstream depiction of a woman who wants cock which is so far removed from the truth that it is not only an inaccurate portrayal; it is the absolute antithesis of such.

This position, of giving to get, is founded on several beliefs – the first is that sex is for barter: that there is an underlying understanding that you must give to get and that the giving is in an action. I would say that the antidote, the belief that would dispel this is the idea that the price of pleasure is pleasure. One of the things that I most often hear is that there is no greater turn on than “turning my partner on” and yet in engaging the part of our minds that feigns pleasure, we are activating the very cortex that would prevent it. In other words faking and juice do not happen in the same arena. Pleasure is entirely involuntary and so to consider the effect you are having (a volitional thought) takes you out of the mind-set where you would be experiencing pleasure.

As women, we know that a man wants to experience us devouring his cock and we get a sympathetic turn on from this – but there are gradations of turn on. The first is egoic power. “I can control him”. But it is also based on the notion that men are dumb and can’t tell the difference between a woman who wants something, and a woman who simply wants. It is based in this idea that men are so desperate and hungry that they don’t care whether or not we are actually experiencing pleasure. Which, unfortunately, is to often true. And there are two responses a woman can have. The first is get together a gaggle of women, all of who believe themselves superior and talk about how dumb men are. The second is to make men smart. The way we do this is to give them the real thing. Think of it like McDonalds. The way you get someone off of McDonalds is to give them real solid good healthy food. It is to replace the craving for an empty calorie by replacing it with a nourishing calorie.

The best way to make a smart man, in other words, is to give him the real thing.
And the real thing is your unadulterated pleasure.

Your unadulterated pleasure can only be experienced when you need nothing from him but the pleasure of him.

In other words, you cannot wonder how you look and truly allow yourself to take, to devour, to receive what you want. There may be snot dripping down your nose, mascara smeared down your face, tears, laughing, gas… the whole gamut. And if you are looking for a man’s love or approval, you can only find it stepping outside of yourself and your total surrender.

The key is to remember that every stroke you fake, every moan, every time you “just let it go” and don’t ask for what you want is that much more time that you are postponing your own pleasure and confirming that it doesn’t really exist, your guy is a dud, the best you can hope for is to learn how to become a better and better pretender.

When the truth is that your surrender-to your own pussy, to the craving inside – is what draws out the brilliance in another.

The day a woman genuinely wholeheartedly loves cock, where he is just an innocent bystander from which your pussy takes what it needs for yourself, is the day that you have left the world of being a “dealer” and allowed yourself to become a “user” and this is where both people become equally vulnerable and intimacy is experienced and both are fully drenched in the same orgasm, together.

A brilliant friend of mine, an actual rocket scientist – having recently taken on the practice of oming and approaching it with the thoroughness someone who is responsible for launching objects into space would – was having reservations.  He liked the excitement he felt when he looked at his woman’s pussy, that flood and rush he felt at the sight, so deeply associated with the possibility of entry.  He had a very reasonable fear that the excitement would wane, that the once titillating sight of her pillowy lips, with this meditative aspect leading the charge, would come to have about the same charge as a monk’s cushion.

He asked my thoughts.

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I am going to start full on right out of the gate.  I was thinking about why I am so passionate about this subject and it came down to a somewhat embarrassing story.  But here goes…

 

So I was about 27.  I was by societal standards fairly hot.  I was tall, lithe, playful.  I had it View full article »

It struck me that there are certain beliefs that are normative that I simply don’t hold.  And others that are not, that are primary in my life.  I found myself trying to contort myself into all of these very uncomfortable positions, trying to look like I was operating by the standard rules of play – while all the while, in back rooms, I was playing an altogether different game.

I felt like Valjean in Les Miserables who, realizing that he could not feed his family, made the conscious choice to steal a loaf of bread.  In the moment the act had clean intent, but doubt and second-guessing seep in in hindsight, nibbling at his belief in his own rightness.

In other words, his interior compass, upon contact with the magnetizing force of the status quo, went haywire and he lost his sense of due north.

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“Turn-on lives at the edge of what you think is possible. It is ignited when you dare to dream, act, create, and operate outside the bounds of the status quo.”  -The Turned-On Woman’s Manifesto

I tell this to women frequently, as it became the truth that set me on this path to become the woman I am today.  My particular line of work seems like something one would deliberately choose, given its obviously intense, pleasurable and sometimes shocking nature.  But the truth is, at the time I discovered OM, my life in all practical ways was really good.  I was part of the academic world, headed toward living in the Zen Center.  I had a “good” sex life, but at the time the practice was introduced to me, I was celibate.  Sex was good in the traditional “good” manner, and yet I sensed there was something else available.

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Orgasmic Meditation featured on TIME.COM. Hear from founder Nicole Daedone as well as students sharing their experience of the effects of OM.

When I say “orgasm,” I don’t mean it in the conventional sense, that fleeting moment when the body “goes over,” the sensation that pre-orgasmic women insist is mythical, the escape that even orgasmic women describe as earth-shattering, or the point at which men ejaculate before rolling over and falling asleep. Those orgasms are all fine, and I would be the last ones to disparage them.

But when I say, “let’s talk about orgasm,” they’re not what I have in mind.

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