you are a fucking force. don't forget it
what happens when let yourself feel?
i leave the gym when the energy get too deep. when i get too wet, i mean.
he’s exhausted, working overtime this week. i expect nothing. wasn’t going to start… but it pours from my fingers…
the beginning of the tease.
i feel you talking to my pussy.
there’s this song i like
“I spend most of my days
Trying to impress you with my thumbs
Most of my nights fingering out how to…”
—Dance Like U // Okay Kaya
but i’m not trying to impress him.
i’m in it. pinned to the moment. to the rubber floor of the gym where i had, for the past 20 minutes, been impressing some and confusing others with feats of levitation after the five sets of pullups and squats. the last of which i almost didn’t stand up from.
pretty sure i’m doing this (maybe have only ever been doing this — training — which is not just physical because nothing is. this is jedi stuff. ninja training. you know. may the force be with you. you learn to do what you think you can’t. to direct the invisible force with intention.) to make sure i can channel the more powerful force of the field we created.
channeling means feeling, first, to receive the force.
i feel it expanding me. exposing me.
it’s all very erotic.
a couple years ago i wouldn’t have let myself feel it. i wanted to, but i would’ve thought this could never be happening. and believed it.
that’s the other thing. belief. what does it mean?
a belief is just a thought you repeat to yourself.
it’s all real. whatever you repeat.
whatever you decide is your reality.
it’s all prophesy.
here’s mine.
on my knees
hands crossed behind my back, cradling opposite elbows
dripping
wanting
waiting
opening.
a vessel.
i have to leave because the gym is full of over testosteroned 20 something boys and i’m so unabashedly breathing a moan rolls over my lips and i’m afraid they might line up to fuck me.
so i go.
good thing home is 5 minutes away. i need to rip this bra cage off my chest and feel my heart beating out of me and touch and touch and touch but he says
i want you to show me you’re soaking without touching yourself.
i want to see restraint in your body.
and i wonder…
do i give too much away at the outset?
i walk into my room and be still and whimper and breathe and feel my body. my hips are aching, spine undulating. I breathe and concentrate. breathe into the embers in the deep center. grow roots into earth’s core. be stiller. let emotion change my facial expression. do something that feels at first awkward but i relax my eyes and jaw and let myself take the shape of something honest and he tells me, i love that look you made for me.
power is a dangerous game when you don’t know you’re playing.
for most of my life i didn’t.
didn't feel this throbbing heartbeat. the pulse of my veins. the earth of my body. the heaven.
you can only feel yourself through friction, can’t you? contrast.
it’s true. the more wild a woman, the more she longs to be contained. claimed. she longs to hear the words, you’re mine. i want all of you.
a claim on one’s heart does not mean it’s captive. (remember that belief thing). a claim is, here, you are safe. be wild and soft and deep and loving and unreasonable. be all of it.. and let me edge you in. keep the pace, the tempo. let me stop time for you. let me become a cauldron you pour into, let the serpent coil at the bottom and when, and when and when. she’s. ready.... slither toward me, open, become a force of reckoning. i’ll take you in. hold you. all of you.
freedom.
surrendering my power to him (to anyone) was my deepest fear.
i resisted. believed i had to control men. they were dangerous.
my mind is changed.
my body is opening.
body came first.
feeling his hands his breath his gaze his presence…
not forcing their way in, but asking one question in many ways.
may i enter? may i touch the stream of aliveness that is you?
the choice to open to the ecstasy of connection is mine. always has been.
nobody told me. i had to feel myself directing the force within.
that jedi stuff is all about discernment. cultivating trust. feeling into friction. pausing. choosing.
when the impulse to escape the moment dissolves, friction becomes delicious. rippling.
his voice pierces straight into my body, awakens heart consciousness.
expands my chest fills my ribs with warm resounding sound waves.
drips into my pelvis.
the channel is open.
i listen and listen and listen.
🥵🥵