My eager hand presses between my legs warming my Yoni. I'm curled on my side in a nest of pillows at a weekend tantra retreat. My randomly selected partner is spooning me from behind. In this "yoni speak" exercise, his role is to ask my vagina what she wants, then listen, without jugdement to the deep wisdom of my womb.
We follow the teachers instructions:
I guide his free hand to rest on top of mine, flowing additional attention to my yoni. Then he asks:
"What does your yoni want?"
"I want Time & Patience."
"What does your yoni really want?
"I want adoration and respect."
After several rounds of these standard answers, my yoni begins to really speak:
"I want your full attention. I want to go away for the weekend...to get a break from the kids and computers, ringing phones, and even our spouses.
I want you to undress me...slow and lovingly. Strip my clothing off with intention, and watch as gravity takes each garment to the ground.
I want to dance naked for you. Sit down, listen to the percussion music and I'll show you how my body is designed to move. Undulating my hips and breasts and curves to arouse your animal desire.
I want to exhale my hot breath in your mouth, then hold you down and tear off your clothes.
I want to trace my teeth across your neck while scratching your shoulders.
I want you to roll me over and ravish me. Let your body do what it is designed to do. Pausing only briefly to get condoms and lube, perhaps an occasional check-in, but with the sunlight through the hotel window, you'll see the fire in my eyes. The YES burning in my soul. And after our hot animal climax. We'll float down to the mattress and slip between the sheets, entangle our limbs and undress eachother again... this time, emotionally.
I want to get to know you, and all the things that really matter. We could bear our souls. Talking not about politics, philosophy or even religion, but the raw, real truth as it occurs under our skin. We can laugh and be silly at the same time. I want to feed you cut mango and organic berries from Trader Joes. We would take turns listening and speaking until we forget who's turn it is.
I want to smell and taste and tickle you and when the urge arises again, we would follow our desire. This time from the heart.
I want to open and invite you into my soft pink inner sanctum.
I want NOT to care what happens next, just move into each moment, without agenda.
And at the end of the weekend, after three full days of this, I want to be so satisfied that I can go home and concentrate on my career and my son. And when my husband asks, how did it go? I'll say, "Come here, let me show you..." And he'll be grateful to you. Thank you." I say, slipping into silent revelry.
We follow the teachers instructions:
I guide his free hand to rest on top of mine, flowing additional attention to my yoni. Then he asks:
"What does your yoni want?"
"I want Time & Patience."
"What does your yoni really want?
"I want adoration and respect."
After several rounds of these standard answers, my yoni begins to really speak:
"I want your full attention. I want to go away for the weekend...to get a break from the kids and computers, ringing phones, and even our spouses.
I want you to undress me...slow and lovingly. Strip my clothing off with intention, and watch as gravity takes each garment to the ground.
I want to dance naked for you. Sit down, listen to the percussion music and I'll show you how my body is designed to move. Undulating my hips and breasts and curves to arouse your animal desire.
I want to exhale my hot breath in your mouth, then hold you down and tear off your clothes.
I want to trace my teeth across your neck while scratching your shoulders.
I want you to roll me over and ravish me. Let your body do what it is designed to do. Pausing only briefly to get condoms and lube, perhaps an occasional check-in, but with the sunlight through the hotel window, you'll see the fire in my eyes. The YES burning in my soul. And after our hot animal climax. We'll float down to the mattress and slip between the sheets, entangle our limbs and undress eachother again... this time, emotionally.
I want to get to know you, and all the things that really matter. We could bear our souls. Talking not about politics, philosophy or even religion, but the raw, real truth as it occurs under our skin. We can laugh and be silly at the same time. I want to feed you cut mango and organic berries from Trader Joes. We would take turns listening and speaking until we forget who's turn it is.
I want to smell and taste and tickle you and when the urge arises again, we would follow our desire. This time from the heart.
I want to open and invite you into my soft pink inner sanctum.
I want NOT to care what happens next, just move into each moment, without agenda.
And at the end of the weekend, after three full days of this, I want to be so satisfied that I can go home and concentrate on my career and my son. And when my husband asks, how did it go? I'll say, "Come here, let me show you..." And he'll be grateful to you. Thank you." I say, slipping into silent revelry.
"Thank you." My random partner says with no judgment.
"Namaste." The teacher says completing the exercise.
"Namaste." The teacher says completing the exercise.