Metaphysics, the Ring of Fire and Our Relationship
I took the Kinsey Sexual Orientation Test again recently. I took it because I was wondering about my recent writings involving guys. I was a 0 at one point indicating total heterosexual. I am now a 2 indicating heterosexual with tendencies towards homosexuality. At some point I will write about the fine line that divides my sexual psyche. However the results reinforce thefact that I am still very very turned on by women. The main reason I am turned on by women is the emotional connection I feel for women and the woman I love.
Emotional longing and erotic arousal and passion; the relationship is so powerful that at times it can be overwhelming.
I share a deep emotional love for my wife, as a result there is a physical energy that expresses itself as a passionate attraction. It is a dominate force in both of our lives.
Attraction occurs in nature in the affinity of the north and south poles of an earthy loden stone; magnetically the poles are drawn together by an invisible attractive force. Attraction expresses itself through gravity, in a cold clear babbling brook being drawn along a stony channel in the forest, desperately seeking the release of joining with the warmer water of a deep lumbering river. J. and I share such this passionate attraction; it has bound us together as a couple for 4 decades. Our attraction did not start out as strong as it is now, but it always was there, and it has grown and evolved over the years.
The development of sexual passion is akin to the art of making a fine wine. It starts with a high quality grape, one that brings promise to the vintage, the hope that the qualities of the grape, given the right conditions will yield sweet reward for the tongue; you enter the wine making process that like all good things it will take time to develop. We started out like that … our early connection was intuitive and had the impetuousness of youth; it was raw, unpolished and a little awkward, just like a young wine. But as our 37th anniversary approaches this summer I recognize the depth, richness, fullness and mysterious and delightful undertones in our relationship; they have evolved over time from the raw passion that held such promise years ago.
That is not to say that our passion was casked up, sealed and kept in a dark place for years to develop its richness; just the contrary, it has developed into its fullness as a result of our shared life experience. Those experiences have been joyous, sad, angst filled and enlightening; they have simmered in a caldron of understanding that has been fueled by the heat of communication. What was resulted is a complex and wonderful brew of a relationship that is sweeter and fuller now than it was years ago when we came together.
The bond is so strong now that when we are apart there is a palpable void that is very apparent to both of us. We are not attached at the hip and we do not follow each other around all day or sit on each other’s laps )although at times I have been known to attempt to do that …it drives her crazy(; we are apart most days even at home. When we are at home she is often upstairs in her studio in the back of the house and I am downstairs in the front room, a room affectionately known as dad’s cave. It’s where I go to write, think and form concepts for projects which fill the notebooks in the shelves next to my big puffy recliner, behind the rolling laptop desk. That is where I am sitting now.
As the day lengthens into evening even that separation we feel in our little cottage of a house expresses itself as a desire to be together. By 10 PM at night the longing in me to be with her is palpable. So even as I cruise through threads on SF, or compose an entry like this, or write a report for work there is a subtle tension in me that builds. It is a yearning that is like a magnetic force, drawing me to her. Pulling and tugging on my mind . . . . . and my cock. It drives me to caress her and kiss the top of her head as she sleeps in my arms; it is a need to feel the warm skin of her thighs draped over my own.
It is the skin to skin contact of her lush femininity in the soft caress of our bed at the end of the day that I seek. My hardened cock nestled against the warm derriere causes rapturous waves of intense multiple orgasms to spontaneously wash over my body. My cock and anus savor the sweet relief that the river feels when it finally blends with its destiny and spreads its excitement in the deep and welcoming body of the river; the waves of bliss flow through me as I am lost in the soft sensation of her.
The attraction is certainly there on a daily basis but its true strength is expressed in times of absence that extend to days or weeks. Such was the case this last week. I have been gone all week; it was one of those weeks of driving from meeting to meeting and presentation to presentation.
Regardless of how many sheet gripping multiple orgasms I can coax into my body as I lie in a quiet hotel room miles away from home, there is still a longing deep inside of me to be lying with her that hours of cock wrenching spasms cannot relieve. It is a hollowness that can only be filled by the touch of her hand on my chest, the caress of her thighs on my stiffened penis and the warmth of her kisses on my neck.
It is a force that tugs on my thoughts, my heart and my cock in her absence. We can be 500 miles apart but the force of J.’s passion for me spans all those miles; it pulls on me and pulls the warm slippery wetness from deep inside of me to well in my pants. It is as if I was the headwaters of a falling stream of passion that was being pulled inexorably by the gravity of her love to blend the liquid of my devotion across the hills and valleys to seek the deep satisfying pool between her thighs.
After days of separation the depth of my longing and desire for her can be so strong that all I have to do is think of her and my heart will race and my mind will cruelly cloud my mind with images of her to tease and tantalize me.
This is where the metaphysics of my longing for her triggers the intense heat of erotic arousal.
Thoughts of her face, body and the sensual furrow of her pink – hair brimmed femininity stiffen my cock to oaken hardness; her sexuality floods my mind and sucks the sweet erotic syrupy sap up from my core. I remember once when I was driving home from a meeting my mind wandered from driving I found myself thinking about her. The erection that resulted pulled me out of the present time and place and focused me on her and her alone. It was very unsettling, it added a desperate twinge to the desire I felt for her. The longing was pervasive, it spread from my mind and wrapped itself around me; its gripped my cock and tugged my turgid flesh to breathless need.
Later that night when we coupled she told me that it was not just me that felt this physical need, she felt it as well. Her need for me invaded her body and just as it gripped my cock it drilled into her pussy, rooted itself in the warm rich wellness of her and was pulled at the depth of her sexuality with the same desperation it did me. It weighted her vulva and gripped the opening of her vagina evoking feelings of deep longing and a need to be filled by me.
In her deepest desire the mouth of her vagina throbbed for the penetration of my cock. It
is the thresh hold of her sexual need, it has been the focus of my fascination with her
body for our entire time together. The sight of her naked body and her exposed
vulva stirs complex responses in me. I feel lust, devotion and something that
approaches spirituality. In her nakedness she is mysterious, beautiful and incredibly sexy
all at once, but it her vagina that exerts this irresistible attraction on me.
I have heard a vaginal opening called the ring of fire, the gateway to heaven or the
gateway to the vestibule of female lust. to some couples it is just known as down there; it
is that wonderfully subtle yet amazingly complex opening to her body that in her lust for
me is open to receive my rigid cock.
Just as thoughts of her cause my cock to thicken, lengthen and harden, correspondingly
my absence and the impact of the longing she feels for me causes the mouth of her pussy
to swell, weep and get heavy in its desire to swallow me and suck the cum from me to
slake its erotic thirst. The memory of being filled with the agonizing rapture of my penis
and her need to drink the sweet liquid reward that I have for her drives her pussy to open
its mouth in anguish like a baby bird chirping frantically for nourishment.
When she is as aroused and sensitive as she was when I came home, the mouth of her vagina is electrified. It has taken me years to understand how she is built “down there” so I can both relish the experience of her arousal and help her to be washed away in orgasmic rapture when we couple. At the very core of her sensation is her clit. Not just the little pink pearl at the top of her opening but the whole structure.
The exquisite design of her and all women is the “iceberg” character of her clit. I am not referring to temperature obviously because it is far from a cold spot , it is the very heated essence of her femininity. I am describing its structure. This miraculous trigger for her orgasm is much like an iceberg, most of it lies beneath the surface. In structure it looks like a turkey or chicken wishbone with her glans and shaft at the top of the mouth of her vagina. The legs or curae extend down from the glans around and just inside her opening under the skin, essentially framing her opening with exquisitely sensitive tissue. Although the glans and shaft are extremely sensitive the legs are subtly sensitive. Their contribution to her experience of my penetration is the delight of penetration itself, the friction and stretching and pulling and tugging on her opening as I thrust into her and pull out to thrust again.
So when I walked in the door yesterday afternoon, I was drawn to her by her attractive energy. We came back together, in response to the attraction that was pulling us together over the miles. With a firm embrace and a warm – soulful kiss I immobilized her against my chest as my lips and tongue established a pathway for us to share our arousal. I shared her breath, her energy and I sensed the depth of the erotic need that permeated her body. She communicated her desire with her lips. I drank deeply from the overflowing vessel of her sexuality. I drank her sweet femininity with a thirst that seemed to be unquenchable.
As our lips meshed we shared the anguished joy of physical contact; her sensuality caressed my cock, squeezed and made it stiffen, swell and lengthen. The erectile tissue of the legs of her clit stiffened and grew more sensitive. The anguished joy of the kiss told the mouth of her vagina to open and swell in its need to receive me. Her ring of fire began to sweat its lust and became more sensitive as it throbbed and pulsed in anticipation. The kiss was fanning the fire in the burning ring in between her thighs, her vulva swelled and grew heavy with desire.
But it was mid day and there was a long while until we could satisfy our need for each other. Nonetheless, she felt wonderful in my arms. The feel of her body was so deeply satisfying; I could feel my heart slowing down as my pants were tented by my throbbing arousal. The week of waiting was over. But the waiting of this day was just beginning.
For the rest of the day it was all I could do to keep from touching her, caressing her and kissing her. The denial of sexual satisfaction when erotic need is at the brink of rational thought makes for sweet foreplay. The anguish of total arousal unfulfilled teased my aching cock to distraction.
We made it though dinner and after dinner coffee, all the while the dampness in my pants was spreading as my cock continued to fill my pants with precum. As we sat over coffee I drank in the site of her as I drank the warm fluid in the cup. Just as the warmth of the coffee filled my stomach, the sight of her sinuous curves filled me and deepened my desire.
We made it through the evening, finally arriving at the long anticipated moment of getting into bed together. I lit the candles, turned out the lights and put some soft music on. When she came in from the shower, she giggled at the mood in the room but she did not giggle as she came to me. I got out of the bed and came to her. I am ample in the cock department, and she knows it. But even in her familiarity, when I am in arousal I can be imposing. Her eyes locked on my desperate appendage and then traced a line up my torso to my own eyes.
We looked into each others eyes with an intensity that spoke of years of commitment, desire and caring, but also of the intense need of that moment. Without words we expressed the longing we both felt and the divinely sweet feeling of being together. The metaphysical connection was very strong; it consumed us both and was drawing us together to perform a ritual that was as old as the human species.
The force that drew us together held no secrets for what it had in mind for us. The oaken appendage that sprouted from my groin was extended with one purpose in mind. Her dewy furrow was yawning in open anticipation of swallowing me and sucking the warm life essence from me. The nectar that was drooling from her opening was evidence of the need that she felt.
We came together in a sweet soft kiss of acknowledgement. It was not a torrid kiss of lust but rather it was a kiss of agreement. The kiss communicated the spirituality of the moment. It said that she loved me more than life itself and she was prepared to share a very special gift with me. We have literally shared each others bodies thousands of times, but the kiss expressed that each time was special and unique. The kiss expressed to me the trust that has been the hallmark of our relationship. It is a trust that has her open her legs to me and accept me to penetrate her, in that act of penetration, entering her body deeply in her most vulnerable place.
The act of being accepted inside her body is something that zen and tantric sex both teach as a deeply spiritual act. I think about it often as I stand erect in anticipation of penetrating her, and that night was no different. So in total silence I eased her backwards onto our shared bed, the place where we rest and embrace and wash the stress of the days away in sleep. But at that moment it was a stage or an altar on which a ritual of our love would be played out. It was an experience that we had shared many times on this bed and we would share it again that that evening.
I laid her down on the bed and bent over her body lavishing her with kisses as I slowly brought my face to the smoldering ring of fire. With great gentleness but with every ounce of passion in me I kissed her dewy opening hard and tasted the full bodied tang of her need. The kiss ended on the glans of her clit, which caused her to squirm and sigh as she opened her legs wider.
I put my hands behind her knees and held her open. Then without hesitation I placed the head of my cock in the center of her the ring of fire in her crotch. As I looked into her eyes I leaned into her; our combined juices made the act of entering her effortless. She sucked me in and gasped as my penetration rewarded her with the delightful feeling of being filled. Her opening was stretched and the tip of my cock was fully at the bottom of her canal.
We remained immobilized in that position. We have both learned to appreciate the very arousing but very satisfying feeling that follows initial penetration. We remained still each of us getting intoxicated by the deeply satisfying sensation of coupling. As we looked into each others eyes, our brains were fucking madly while my aching cock remained still inside her. As I pressed up against her she squeezed the base of my cock with the mouth of her pussy, as if to hold it immobile so that she could feel every inch of me inside of her and remember the fullness of me and intense eroticism of this moment.
After I while I began to grind ever so subtly against her using my pubic bone at the base of my cock to press against the glans of her clit. The grinding eventually gave way to thrusting. As I pierced her and plumbed the depths of her cunt with my dripping cockhead, images of tattooing her came over me. The action of thrusting into her body repeatedly reminded me of the tattooing process. Only instead of a needle, I tattooed her with my penis. Instead of ink, I was using my cum to etch a symbol of my love on her soul, deep inside her where no one would ever see it. It would be written so expressively and gloriously that it would be a wonder to behold . . . except no one would ever see it. The only thing that would ever see it would be the head of my cock. But I would know it was there for eternity.
We ground and thrust against each other in a music less dance that we both know so well. As we danced the sweet friction edged our arousal higher and higher. I exercised as much control as I could muster and I held off from cumming as long as I could. As the cum came to steaming boil inside of me, my breathing was heavy and the sweat was running down my temples. Fortunately she was so aroused that her own orgasm crept very quickly into her vagina; it knew all the strings inside of her that are the sweetest receptors of her rapture, once it found them it grasped them. The orgasm then plucked the strings of her orgasm, resulting in a chord that resonated throughout her body.
The song that that chord introduced was resonant and full; she arched her back and sang her joy to me in full voice. It told of the agonizing ecstasy that she was feeling, it told of the anguish of relief and the vibrations of bliss that the chord was reverberating inside of her.
As I watched her body wracked in orgasmic rigor mortis, vocalizing her feelings as the fire was consuming her pussy it was more than I could bear. The sight of her twisting in orgasm inflamed me as well. So as her orgasm was waning mine let go. I felt the gates deep inside me open up as my cock readied itself like a fire hose ready to spew a rush of water to extinguish the flames that were consuming her. I spewed hot thick cum into her; the convulsive orgasm reached deep into me and drained the reservoir of cum that had welled inside of me for the week in a series of intense spasms.
I collapsed onto her in exhaustion. She embraced me, and rocked me, holding me to her body, alternating with shushing me and telling me how much she loved me as her pussy shuddered on my cock in the last gasps of her ecstacy.
Just as sweet as orgasmic denial can be, the moments after a deep orgasm, as I lay in her arms is better than any drug induced high. I felt empty, and fulfilled at the same time. I felt a closeness to her that can only be felt at a moment like that.
The meshing of our bodies and the exchange of fluids, joined us in the ultimate result of attraction . . . attachment. This was the grand plan. This is where the metaphysics of us ends . . . . in our coupling. It is a wonderful and mysterious process that bonds us and deepens our relationship …each time it happens.