Pleasure Begets Pleasure

Dancing never fails to wake up my pleasure body.  Even when I’m feeling tired and resistant, if I can just put on some music, move and breathe, something starts to happen inside of me.

The breath always opens the door to the dance.

I breathe in, invoking my feminine receptivity, allowing the music to penetrate every cell of my being. I’m like a giant vagina, taking in all the rhythms, feeling my desirability on the inhale—life’s desire to fill me, to fuck me.  On the exhale I invoke my masculine offering energy, giving everything I received to the dance.  I imagine I have this enormous cock, thrusting my hips forward, grinding into the fecund, wide open space, feeling my desire to penetrate, to participate in creation.

I’ve committed to receiving and/or pleasuring myself for at least thirty minutes a day for a year. Along with my pleasure practice, I try to take a few deep pleasure breaths throughout the day.

After one week I find myself walking in an energetic field of invitation.

A humming bird hovers in front of me as I write, flying back and forth between me and the azalea bush.  A honey bee lands on the crotch of my shorts, thinking it’s a flower.  When I check my phone, a lover I met at a festival texts me a poem out of the blue.  At a traffic light, a gorgeous man turns to me and smiles. A license  plate reads:  TEADORE.  A voice on the radio sings, “You are beautiful.” In the bank a little girl runs curiously up to me, waves, then skips back to her mother.

When my receiving cup is full, I offer a compliment to my teller on how her butterfly necklace accentuates her lovely cleavage.

She blushes, telling me how her boyfriend bought it for her, and is taking her out to dinner that night, and how she bought the dress she is wearing specifically to show off the necklace.  By the end of our conversation, I’m twenty-seven and in love again.  I feel a renewed sense of my own sexiness and beauty.

Which is why I’m adding flirting to my devotional pleasure practice, though engaging with strangers has always been an edge for me.

Not flirting to get something from somebody, but as an act of love, of nourishing life itself, by tapping into that delicious mutual flow of desirability and desire. Why limit foreplay to just one lover when I can be playing all day long?