The Friday Sex Blog [Fucking for Revolution]

¡Hola! Everybody...
Today I'm attending an event at Centro Estudios Puertoriqueños at Hunter College (click here for info). Tomorrow is a big day at #OccupyWallStreet, as a coordinated global action is set to take place (here). You should come, even if you don't know, or give a fuck, or want to see what happens when the will of the people is applied through nonviolent means.

It’s Friday and that means it really is all about sex… LOL

* * *

-=[ Living and Dying ]=-

...So quiet now.
Soften yourself and listen.
Connected and motionless.

To the symphonic pulsing of our blood,
the crash of an eyelid,
the joyous trickle of a bead of sweat.

Sooner or later, no matter how much you try to deny it, a moment just like this one will be your last. It’s the only punch line to this grand Cosmic Joke we call life that you can be certain of (and no, taxes are not inevitable, just ask any “corporate personhood”).

You are alive, for now at least. Feel your heart beating in your chest. Soften yourself -- soften your belly and your jaw. Feel your heart’s celestial mambo radiating outward, pulsing through your hands and feet and neck. Feeling your heartbeat, relax open as if offering your heart to the world.

While feeling your heartbeat as an offering, feel how you live your moments. What did you do today? What are your plans? Who do you love and how deeply?

Here’s a thought: no matter how much money you have made, one day your body will become cold and numb, your heart will stop its determined and persistent cosmic echo, your breath will cease, and it will all stop.

Period.

Ask yourself this: are you ready for death? Are you ready for the death of your children, your parents, your beloved friends?

Picture this: a picnic with your friends and famly. Fried chicken and cold beverages. A gentle breeze and the sun caressing your face. Suddenly your heart stops. A final gasp. Fade to black…

Are you ready? I’m asking because today many of your fellow human beings are questioning what we’ve been taught to believe and to value all our lives. We’re saying that when that moment comes, what will matter most is if you’ve loved fully and deeply, and given of your deepest gifts. The Dow Jones or how much money you’ve made won’t matter much when the time comes (if you don’t believe me ask yourself what Steve Jobs was thinking at the end).

A life lived well embraces death by feeling openness, not contraction. The good life is an open heart, open to all, in every moment. Wide open, you can make of your life an offering; you can also receive without pushing away. This is fearless living without the walls of repression that bring so much suffering and the dreaded feeling of disconnect and isolation even in the midst of plenty and privilege. Wide open, you are openness; every moment comes and goes as openness.

Your lover’s embrace: sweet, full, but already disengaging, loosening. Your child’s smile: temporary, oh-so-precious, and yet already dissolving. Every moment is at once miraculous and disolving. Every experience both profound and empty.

Life lived merely for the sake of experience is a life half lived: tense, insecure, lonely, and ultimately unfulfilling. Your experience cannot fulfill you because as soon as it comes it is already gone, a thin wisp, like the scent of a vague memory, the tail end of a hope, receding just out of reach.

Without grasping, this moment (which could be your last) emerges free and bright. Surrendering -- loving and opening deeply, offering your heart -- these are the moments that will become your karma, reverberating long after you have moved on.

Sex, dearest, is sometimes our little practiced piece of dying. Death is the permission, indeed, the exhortation, to open freely as love.

Love,

Eddie

The Friday Sex Blog [Mambo]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Depending on where you’re at in terms of personal development, if you thought I was a sexist pig before today, the following will remove all doubt. Oh yeah, and fuck you too. LOL!

* * *

The Black Mambo

[Note: Aside from its better-known definition of a Latin@ dance form, Mambo is the term for a female High Priestess in the Vodou religion. They are the highest form of clergy in the religion, whose responsibility it is to preserve the rituals and songs and maintain the relationship between the spirits and the community as a whole (though some of this is the responsibility of the whole community as well). They are entrusted with leading the service of all of the spirits of their lineage.]

     I had a friend once who fainted while getting his cocked sucked. This is true… 

      To be fair, the woman responsible was no ordinary woman. Her skin was an almost impossible shade of buttery brown and she was sublimely beautiful. Regal in her bearing, her prominently chiseled cheekbones framed eyes shaped like goldfish, her full lips, evoking her African ancestry, glistened with dew, her lush ripe breasts hung just right, and the possibilities and potentialities between her subtle smile and her magnificently shaped ass were infinite. She walked as if she were royalty and the world syncopated itself to the sway of her curvaceous hips. A subtle but palpable energy enclosed her and her amber eyes shone with an intelligence and wisdom beyond her young years. 

      And she would have nothing to do with me. In fact, I believe at times she was downright scared of me. She once told a mutual friend that I had powerful spirits all around me -- some benevolent, but many evil.

      Many would say she was just a whore, but many more whispered she was a bruja, a Vodou priestess, a succubus. She had many admirers, and she could’ve quite possibly enjoyed a comfortable life of leisure if she chose. I don’t know if she was any of these things, but I do know she absolutely worshiped cock. I can still remember clearly all these years later. It was a summer night, the air hot as held breath. And we, my friends and I, we were on a drug and alcohol-induced prowl and somehow we ended up at her place -- in the middle of some crazy party.

     My friend was absolutely taken by her and I wondered why she even bothered with him. If she was a whore, as many claimed, she was obviously a high-priced one and my friend was simply, as we liked to say in the 'hood, a broke-assed motherfucker. In fact, we were all just a group of five horny motherfuckers barely into our twenties, just out for a good time. I had seen her around occasionally accompanied by an older man who walked around scowling all the time. Some said he was her husband, but that seemed unlikely to me. In any case, the scowling man jealously guarded her and word was he had stabbed one of my friends, Blackie, just for looking at her wrong. And Blackie was a Golden Gloves champion, just starting out on a promising professional boxing career.

      Anyway, my friend just had to have her and she seemed willing, but there was the problem of the old man, so we decided we would act as lookouts while he tried to get with the young priestess.

The music was so loud, we couldn’t hear ourselves think. There was much dancing, and the tenement apartment was packed with people. So packed, in fact, that no one (except us) noticed when my friend and the priestess retreated into a nook and began making out. I was supposed to be a lookout, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her carnally-fashioned form. Kneeling, she took my friend in her mouth.

      “Do you like cock?” my friend asked.

     She simply nodded yes as she looked up into his eyes.

     I wouldn’t say that she liked cock -- my friend’s cock or any particular cock -- she actually worshiped cock. She was a cock worshiper. As I looked at her, she was already gone, she sucked and she groaned, drool coming down her chin and neck. Her eyes were rolling, opening and closing. It seemed as if she couldn’t get enough. My friend motioned at me to look out for the old man, but I was watching her swallow him like a woman possessed.

     Some women enjoy being with a man and getting him off, but this woman worshiped cock. It was a completely different thing. Some women are wives, you see, some women want to find a good man to love. Cock to women like that is always a part of their men, the men they love, the men they open to intimately. Other women, women like the ebony priestess, I realized, are cock worshipers. They want to open and take cock. It’s their way of opening up spiritually, of surrendering open and taking The One so deep they are lost in the worship, obliterated in the giving of themselves, gone in their love of cock -- not of a man as a character, as a husband or boyfriend, or lover, but lost in the love of cock itself.

     Wifely women can’t fake that they’re into cock -- they may be into their man’s cock, but not any cock. Women like this woman, I thought as I watched this incarnated sex goddess devour my friend, they can certainly love a man, but they will always worship cock. No woman could ever be forced to be something she is not.

     My friend started talking to the black priestess while she was still ravenously mouthing him.

     “Yesssss, take it all, baby. Take it, take it… take it like I know you want to.”

     The sound of the drums playing pounded away and the very floor seemed to be shaking from all the dancing and everyone seemed to be oblivious. The space filled with an intense energy. This was more than oral sex, it felt more like a religious vision/ conversion. The air felt thick, as if a heavy pleasure were pressing down into all of our bodies. My point of view changed, so that I felt as if I were outside the room, feeling the entire apartment and the sweating, jubilant people in it, eliciting a vision dense with color, pregnant with love-bliss, and yet I was still there, standing in the room as a body.

     Tears were streaming down her face in her adoration of cock. She was fully abandoned in her passionate attentions, in rapture, as were we all. People were dancing, their arms extended in the air, some were laughing, the room had filled with ecstasy pressing all of us open. Dancers abandoned themselves to ancient rhythms in worship of gods and goddesses long forgotten. My body felt filled with a force, the same force of thick love that filled the room -- that was the room. My breath deepened and my cock engorged, filled with the same love-substance… and I realized when I looked away that none of us were looking out for the old man, who was now headed directly to the little alcove where all this was happening.

     I turned around quickly to warn my friend, when I saw that his legs trembled and he folded in on himself as if he were a puppet and promptly fell flat on his face, unconscious. The black priestess had left, disappeared.

     The old man finally made his way to us and demanding, “What’s going on here?!”

     “I think my friend fainted,” I managed to get out.

     My name is Eddie and I'm in recovery from civilization... 

The Friday Sex Blog [Sex as Prayer]

¡Hola! Everybody…
OK! Let me just say that I don't give a flying fuck about any royal wedding/ engagement, or WhatTheFuckEver!

* * *

-=[ Sex as Prayer ]=-

A woman's behind -- an altar to be worshiped on ones knees...

Most people raised as Christians would consider the melding of sex and spirituality a heresy. I say, take it up with the man you call your God. After all, according to dogma, He invented everything in six days (even He had to rest). LOL

Seriously, most of us compartmentalize our lives. For too many people sex is something they do in the darkened chambers of their shame.

I would submit that fucking is the highest for of prayer any couple (married or not) can offer to the Divine. As an expression of the Universal Principle, it creates unity and joy which are surely signs of a Divine presence. As an expression of the couple’s love for one another, it is the deepest affirmation that love is their work. With such power to elicit the presence of the Divine, I have to wonder why there is so little written or taught about sex as prayer. This is especially puzzling as I browse the aisles of bookstores brimming with books on centering prayer, charismatic prayer, holistic prayer, The Jesus prayer, blah blah blah…

Don’t answer that question, it’s a rhetorical device. The answer is found in the Church’s two-thousand-year anti-sex campaign. Christianity sees the flesh as the domain of the devil -- as sinful -- and could never be integrated into Christian spirituality. On another, less obvious level, the neglect of sex is an expression of a deep-rooted fear: the fear of mystery. Due to an irrational dogma that has lost much of its relevance, we intentionally exclude this mystery from our daily lives.

Essentially, we have chosen to live in fear and anxiety rather than face the mystery. We push sex into the dark recesses of our psyches where it then becomes deviant -- a dark and twisted power that controls our motivations even as we deny its existence. We do this at our own peril.

We will fight tooth and nail, for example, to cover a statue’s breasts, but stay mum when our children are subjected to watching literally thousands of murders before they reach the age of seven. Tits are evil, but watching a human being gunned down senselessly is kewl.

The naked form is evil, but subjecting our children to endless stream of advertisements created by marketing experts for the sole purpose of making our children mindless consumers is OK.

Our escape from the mystery of sex has placed our lives in jeopardy. We think we fear loss of freedom, fear the terrorists, or fear unending war, but the reality we fear more than all enemies real or imagined, is the reality of sex and the surrender it demands.

It’s no wonder the most predominant characteristic of our age is impotence, Not that we are without power, but that we experience ourselves individually and collectively as powerless. The consequences of this powerless are seen everywhere. We have an abundance of food, yet millions go hungry. We have the largest population I the history of the world and yet many of us go lonely. We have sex but only as a scratch for an ego itch -- sex without substance. And I’m not talking about casual vs. committed sex. Both forms of sex can be liberating -- sex is essentially a liberating force -- I know too many people in committed relationships who have “empty calorie” sex.

No, what we have is the old bitter fear which breeds more and more weapons of mass destruction. We are afraid. We fear love. We fear sex. We have forgotten how to dance.

If you want to know the way out, sexual union points the way.

Sexual union invites us as lovers to go beyond a society and a self that views its accomplishments, its goals, its vision of reality, its technical achievements, as ends in themselves -- as idols. Sexual union offer a path where we gain a perspective of what is lasting and what is temporary. Sexual union is mutual surrender to they mystery and the heart of human life and love. Sex is the reminder that we are not the center of the universe: The Divine is the center.

Love,

Eddie