There’s often a quiet time after a session. I have given this person all the loving attention in me, tender kisses on his face, welcoming him and his thirst and his need for caring. He cares for his ailing wife, has been for 3 years, who knows how much longer. Sex is no longer an option with her, but that is not why he is here. Well, not the only reason. He is here for some TLC. It does happen that most men equate TLC with sex, it’s true. Which I think is more of a cultural artifact than anything. If the only tenderness you get to have is with women – god forbid you should get that close to another man! – and the only relationship you get to have with women is a sexual one, guess that doesn’t leave much else does it?

But today, he knows it’s tenderness he’s after. It’s these kinds of sessions that bring out the priestess in me. He is stretched out on the table, doing his best to relax and let the loving in, taking my reminders to breathe, sigh and moan, and my reminders that there is nowhere to go, nothing to do. I am spreading oil, head to toe, stroking with hands and arms, leaning over with my breasts and shoulders. Full body massage for me means most of my own full body too. He reaches for me with his hands, and I teach him to let his hands rest, let me come to them, let them just receive. I stroke his open hands with my hair, face, mouth, neck and shoulders, breasts. I anoint his cock with reverence and care, slowly, gently. He has never been touched this way, he says.

He recalls that usually when touching himself, it’s to get off. To get the tension off, or just to get some touch, any at all. But this, he says, is different, and he’s right.

I love these cocks. I have learned to love them by loving my own cunt. She has taught me the preciousness of this tender anatomy. She has taught me the power of pleasure to heal, to transport, to bless, to make whole again. She has come home to me, and so I respect the same in others. Whether it’s cock or cunt makes no difference to me. Both have been under loved and over worked.

So I anoint him, body and soul. I take him into my arms, welcome his hands on my breasts, which he takes with gratitude and pleasure. I feel the mystery of compassion flow through me. It’s like a fountain from some unseen place, invisible but palpable. It’s then that I think of the goddess. I serve the goddess by taking her children into my arms. I serve the goddess by anointing cocks and cunts, to remind them of their beauty and power, to remind them that they are loved.

And now, as it’s over and he’s gone, I am quiet. I am ready to be held.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 27th, 2007 at 4:53 pm and is filed under Deep Thoughts, Sacred Intimates, Sessions. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.