How to Have The Best Sex of Your Life

by newyork  Jul 21, 2014
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There was a moment when he opened back up again and his sex flooded into my body like molten electric liquid, filling me up slowly, lighting up my cells, causing me to almost weep with gratitude for the enlivening sensation of his touch, for the shutting down of my brain and the complete take-over of my body. Like a fish being returned to the sea after having been caught on dry land, everything realigned and made sense again. This is who I am inside of my sex. All of me is able to come out and my body is revealed as being made for this, made for touch, made to be taken and fucked. Every curve of me and the way I naturally move, the shape of my face, the darkness in my eyes, the fall of my hair: all were made for this, for this sinuous, liquid, formless place of feeling-without-thought, where intuition and desire are king.

He came all the way into me and spoke his desires into my ear in a husky voice filled with that kind of appetite where as a woman you either get scared and close or you find a depth of surrender that allows his beast to come out fully.

Two hours before, this spot was closed to me. He said, “yes I hear you, yes I understand that you are who you are and you need to be free,” but his body said something different. His heart balked and his body followed. To have felt for months this spot open and access freely given and then to feel it close with a silent snap despite our best efforts to stay connected caused such a shock of disequilibrium in my system that I literally felt dizzy. We disengaged and talked for a time, half-naked, hearts aching, missing each other, witnessing the unseen shift in our relationship like watching a loved one die while holding their hand. We cried a bit and agreed to spend the night together. I accepted that the spot deep in there was now closed and I began to allow my system to adjust, like moving to a different elevation and getting used to thinner air. I thought, “that level of adoration is what I was paying for all along.” The payment was done now and so the deep soul access it had bought was gone.

We put out the candle. I crept to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, feeling awkward in the bright light in front of the mirror. I removed my jewelry and set my alarm. I gulped some water. Then I slipped under the sheets and crawled into him, letting his body heat wash over me, feeling my heart contract as it touched his, feeling his pain more keenly as we came into physical contact. I curled into all the sensations, allowing them to flood through me, coiling over my skin like snakes, squeezing my chest, twisting my stomach. I let the thoughts float through and back out being careful not to hook onto any of them. I began to feel consumed in a fire of energy and to find a peaceful spot in it that invited me into sleep.

When I had completely let go of everything between us was - of course - the very moment when the molten electric liquid flooded in.

Our sex was always intimate, always hot and unexpectedly thrilling, but this time it cut deeper. I felt like I had accepted the worst and he had accepted the worst and still the desire between us came alive and demanded to be given full access. I knew that I was willing to stay open and go all-in no matter what our relationship was changing to but I did not think that he would let go without the handrails of safety we had had in place. But he did.

He growled his desires into my ear and I could feel all the little hairs on my skin stand up to meet his attention. An arc of energy rolled through my entire body causing my back to curl and arch like a cat’s and I felt my pussy immediately begin to swell and drip thick liquid into the boxer briefs I had nicked from his drawer. We drew it out, fucked fiercely like the world was ending, his eyes would catch mine and hold for a moment like magnets and then pull away. We peaked quickly, and then another peak, higher, and another, even higher. My body felt vibrantly alive with massive amounts of sensation and emotion. Every moment balanced on the tip of the meeting place of heartbreak and total ecstasy. At the highest peak it all exploded with the silent sensory sound of shattering glass and the mutual climax came out as bursting into tears together. We wept holding tightly to each other, trembling, ripples of electricity vibrating through us like sheet metal being shaken.

Sex like this is rare. It is landing in a moment that you know was made by an accumulation of truly pristine plays. You know you chose the hard right thing a hundred times instead of the easier thing. You know you were honest and vulnerable where you could’ve blocked and fogged. You know you stayed connected when you were terrified to do so, and you know that you intentionally revealed to them who you are all along the way. In other words, this kind of sex can only be earned through clean, patient play and focus. You put your head down into the game fully and have faith, dismantle all the programs of fear and shame that you encounter along the way, and don’t think about the outcome or let your thoughts hook you. Most of all, don’t expect it to come. Fuck for desire and forget about your goals. It was when all hope was lost that it came. You can’t get it or take it or make it happen - it’s a kind of sex that can only be freely gifted. It is awakening inside of full surrender having realized that somehow when you weren’t looking, all of the weather elements had arranged themselves into a perfect storm meant to deliver to you your most deeply held and craved desires in precisely the way you most craved them.

Afterward, we stood by the window looking out over the city, our bodies damp and hot, the cool midnight breeze sending tingles over our skin. My hip brushed his and I said to him, “I pray that all the women in my life get to have sex like this someday if they haven’t already. The world would heal itself if people could have sex like this.” In his sweet, proper English way he replied, “Well that is a very kind wish for you to say, baby.” We stood in silence for twenty beats longer and then curled up in bed together to sleep, steeped in a kind of aching perfection.