it tends toward a climax

August 11, 2019

Lovers’ reading of each other’s bodies (of that concentration of mind and body which lovers use to go to bed together) differs from the reading of written pages in that it is not linear. It starts at any point, skips, repeats itself, goes backward, insists, ramifies in simultaneous and divergent messages, converges again, has moments of irritation, turns the page, finds its place, gets lost. A direction can be recognized in it, a route to an end, since it tends toward a climax, and with this end in view it arranges rhythmic phases, metrical scansions, recurrence of motives. But is the climax really the end? Or is the race toward that end opposed by another drive which works in the opposite direction, swimming against moments, recovering time?

Italo Calvino
If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller

sex magick ritual

December 5, 2016

marjorie-cameron-1922-1995-illustration-from-songs-for-the-witch-woman

This sex magick ritual is recommended for frequent practice. Through this ritual the ideal self is purified, extracted, and then ingested. Thus the procreative process is leveraged to produce oneself as ones offspring and then you become that child.

Before performing this ritual you should have a magical name or motto and a sigil designed from this.

Self consuming should be preceded by a banishing and centring ritual such as the Star Ruby, Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram, or other similar practice. You should feel powerful, clean, and centred going into this ritual. A ritual bath or other cleansing is useful. It is convenient to perform this ritual in a shower or bath.

Stand erect and reach above your head with both hands. Feel above you the presence of Desire, in whatever form this takes for you. With your left hand cradle the tips of the fingers of your right hand between the fingers and thumb of your left. Bring your left down and push up with your right and allow your fingertips to symbolically pierce the opening between the fingers and thumb of your left. Alternately you may visualize a phallic form of desire above you which you stroke. Whatever form Desire suggests is correct. From this draw down the divine fluid of desire to your forehead and begin intoning the “I” of “I-A-O”.

As your finger tips touch your forehead feel awareness of a bright light opening as a tunnel within you and through you. Bring your fingers down to your heart and feel this opening through. As your reach your heart intone “A”. Clutch your hands together then pull them apart as if rending a veil or opening a curtain. This is the overwhelming and overcoming of self. You push through your own identity and cast it off in this motion.

Now let your hands fall to your genitals. Feel the light continue down and settle here. Desire settles in the seat of your desire. This may be a sense of presence in the clitoris, prostate, g-spot, or phallus.

You may wish to sit, squat, or lay down as is comfortable for you now. Wherever you feel the feeling of Desire has settled, at this point trace with your fingertips the sigil of your magical name or motto. While doing this begin intoning this name or motto. Repeat intoning this throughout.

With the sigil drawn and clearly visualized upon your desire, begin massaging and stimulating yourself to bring yourself to climax. At the moment of climax, feel this divine desire excreted in your sexual fluids. Catch this and cradle it. Bring it to your lips and consume it, feeling its energy integrate throughout your being.

Repetition of this ritual will help you become the person you wish to be. Each performance acts to further distil this essence within you.

Source: The Church Ov Nothing

Bella’s Secret Garden

November 21, 2015

lovers5

One of my favorite things about staying in a hotel is the maid service. I can’t tell you how luxurious it is to know that I won’t have to pick up after myself, won’t be required to fold the towels and place them on the rack when I’m through. My girlfriend, however, cannot get the hang of hotel life. She actually cleans our room before the maid arrives.

“I don’t want her to think we’re slobs,” she says.

“That’s her job,” I tell her.

“To think we’re slobs?” (An intentional misread. I want to smack her for it.)

“To clean up,” I say through clenched teeth.

Amber shrugs, then makes the bed. When she’s finished, she writes a note to the maid, places it with a five dollar bill on the dresser, and gets ready to go. I watch her but don’t say anything. There’s no point.

When we return from sightseeing, our maid has left us a note of her own. It says, “Thank you very much for the tip. You don’t need to make the bed since I change the sheets every day.” She’s signed it Bella. I show the note to Amber who announces in her haughtiest tone that she doesn’t care. She’ll make the bed anyway.

The next day, it’s raining and we stay in. Part of our vacation is just relaxing, which means we don’t have to sightsee each and every day. Part of my vacation, that is. Amber takes her camera, in the rain, and leaves. I snooze until the maid knocks on the door, then I stumble to the latch and open it. In the hallway, stands Bella. She’s a pert and perfectly adorable blonde with short curly hair and clear, blue eyes. She takes one look at me and says, “You’re not the one making the bed each day, are you?”

I shake my head and invite her in. Something in my look must let her know what I want, and she obliges. She’s easy in my arms, a sweet 115 pounder with lithe, athletic body. I kiss her mouth, then her freckled cheeks, then nibble on her earlobes. I move her with me into the bathroom and we take a shower together, getting warm and wet and soapy. Laughing as we dry each other off.

We leave the towels in a soggy heap on the floor and make it halfway to the bed before I grab her and throw her down on the plush, crimson carpeting that Amber has picked lint off on her hands and knees. I climb on top of Bella in a still-damp sixty-nine. She knows how to use her tongue, probes me expertly with it while stroking my ass and lower back, rubbing in small circles, dragging her nails against my skin.

I follow her lead, running my short nails the length of her inner thighs while keeping my mouth busy on her cunt. I like the way she tastes, clean from the shower, of course, but musky beneath it. Earthy and real and delicious to my taste buds. Her fragrance is rich and heady and entirely unlike the antiseptic flavor of Amber’s well-douched vagina. Amber doesn’t really like it when we 69. She can eat me for hours, but she doesn’t like me to go down on her.

I lap now at Bella with no thought of what she’s doing to my own cunt. I am lost within the walls of her pussy, drinking each drop of her nectar. Finally, I pull away from her, lying flat on the floor between her legs. and concentrate totally on giving her pleasure. She wraps her thighs around me and lets me work, whispering what she wants, how she likes it.

“Harder,” when she needs that, “faster, ohhh, please, faster,” and I make those spiraling little circles as quickly as I can until she presses her hips forward and drenches my lips with the juices of her climax. The taste is pure sweetness.

By the time Amber arrives, Bella and I are on our third beer. Amber doesn’t know what to make of the scene, so I tell her. “You’re doing Bella’s job. Cleaning. Folding. Running around. I invited her to do yours… kick back, relax, make love.”

Amber leaves with her very neatly folded suitcase. Bella and I have another beer, then climb beneath the tightly, tucked sheets.

Antonia Paris

Source HERE

Girlish giggles…

April 15, 2015

climax

Sometimes Gabby giggles after an orgasm; it’s a sort of nervous reaction…