Another full moon, another sleepless night. Even as a child, I had trouble sleeping on a full moon. I know it’s a cliché, and many pagan and wiccans will claim a strong connection to the lunar cycle. I used to lie awake and read books by the light of the full moon. My parents were sure it was the cause of my need for glasses by the time I was in high school.
At the time of this writing, it’s August 30th, 2:30am. My partner Rebekah and I completed the first of our classes at 3 Days of Light Gathering in Old Fort, North Carolina and it couldn’t have gone better. Despite arriving a day later than we originally planned, the schedule on the festival website being inaccurate, and a host of issues that left us feeling unprepared, we had a crowd of 18 and a very successful workshop.
The cabin given to us for classes was stifling hot and as soon as class ended, they all cleared out. Rebekah and I made our way down to the lake. The night was lovely. We took a moonlight stroll to the lake pier where we put our feet in the water and watched the tadpoles swim about. I reflected for a moment on the events of the day that led up to our success; the rushed feeling of getting prepared, the script’s words floating around in my head, where my social anxiety jumbled them up until I didn’t know the beginning from the end. And then losing my ankh as I crossed a bridge.
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that I moved to Asheville, NC. We knew only two people who lived here, one of my ex-lovers and my business coach. I arrived with my husband Marc, my two daughters, Ariana and Mariah, and my puppy, Pandora. The marriage didn’t even make it off the moving van; he and his stuff moved immediately into a different household, and finally the divorce papers are in hand for my review and signature. Mariah moved back to New York in December of 2014 and is thriving there as a newly enrolled herbalism student, and coffee barrista. On August 4th, Ariana moved back to New York to live with family and pursue her dreams of becoming a hairdresser, and clothing designer, and forging a closer relationship with her Dad.
I tried taking Pandora to Brother Wolf to be rehomed. After seven months of seeking and failing to find permanent pet-friendly housing, Spirit, convinced me it is time for her to have a new family. There were so many feelings, grief, regret, relief, excitement. These are the same feelings I have had each time I let one of my family move on with their lives. Except for some belongings (most of which are in storage), she is the last external piece of what I came here with. My thought was, “All that’s left is Me.” I didn’t realize that they have a waiting list to take dogs in. And so she is with me a few days, or weeks, more? Maybe spirit just wanted to see if I would do it. Not to be grandiose, but it’s kind of like the story of Abraham being willing to sacrifice his son Isaac.
Let me start by saying I grew up in what seemed to be a pretty normal southern American environment, which is to say it was racist, homophobic, unenlightened and violent. Despite my best attempts it wasn’t until years later that I learned how much of our language was misogynistic, judgmental and just plain wrong.
When a group of young men gathered, the subject of woman often came up. Most likely each guy’s sex life, or interest in particular girls would come up. Whenever it does, the phrase “Did you f**k her yet?” or “Have you slept with her?” would be uttered. It was not only common to hear, it was accepted as part of “Man talk.”
At Being Socials, one of the most frequently asked questions is “How did you and Trevor get together? The short answer is, he was seeing a couple of my friends, and I was dating one of his. Sensing a kindred spirit (read Intellectual Sex Geek/Sensual Athlete) I invited him to become sensual research partners with me. I told him I had a couple of goals, 1) to expand my orgasmic capacity, and 2) to connect to God through sex. I explained that it did not require us being in a romantic relationship. Brave soul, he immediately agreed, and I was in the giver role that first time. The next time, I began training him how to “DO” me. And the rest, as they say, is history. My life and my business have become radically transformed from that one invitation. Several dates later we became co-teachers and coaching partners, then Fetlife official as “in an open relationship.” (and we still have research dates, more on that later).
I first heard of sensual research dates when I attended a weekend workshop called Basic Sensuality, taught by Jack, Ilana and Kassy of Lafayette Morehouse.
Whether you are a fan, or not, an aficionado or just starting out, here are our thoughts, on a common practice in the intimacy smorgasbord. . . PLEASING YOUR WOMAN ORALLY.
I love eating pussy. I would say it’s one of my favorite sex acts, in fact it rivals penile penetration. I have this rule in my head. I’m not going to stick my cock anywhere I’m not comfortable putting my face. I’m constantly amazed when I’m told by women that there are men out there that don’t “do that.” The way I perceive it, I like oral sex on myself, so it’s only fair if I return the favor. But, fact of the matter is, I really enjoy it. I like the tastes, the textures, the feel of it; every bit of a woman’s emotional state can be felt when you have your face buried between her legs.
Ladies, when I take your flesh into my mouth, I can feel your heartbeat. I can tell when it quickens because I’ve done something to you. I like the texture of the lips as they slide in and out of my mouth. I can feel the wetness increase when I’ve caused pleasure and the sounds that escape a woman’s throat…
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