Update: a rebuttal, via Kate Bartolotta. 7 + 1 Reasons Not to F*ck a Woman’s Mind. {NSFW}

And David’s partner tells her side of the story: More than 7 + 1 Ways: A Closer Look. 

~

A woman’s sex is all mental.

Everything lies in her experience.

In her immersion—when her body, her soul, her spirit are engulfed in a wave of crashing ecstasy. Warm, warped, heated, burnt. Sear her experience with a burning fire and all things change. Everything changes.

Do not focus on the physical, the technique. All of your actions are whispers. What is essential is the sharpness of intent. Raw, brooding action. And reaction. A man’s movement is to be an expression of passionate force.

So then. Here are seven ways to fuck a woman’s mind, in no particular order:

1. Softly, sweetly. Almost serene. For all her thorns and daggers, every woman holds a fragile part. She may hide it, for fear of finding herself vulnerable. We do this, too. Caress her, whisper into her ear. Softer than the faintest, gentlest touch. Tender words whispered in her ear. More than just words. A sweet song, embers; roaring heat drifting from a fire into her ear.

2. Assertive. A delicate, yet crude dance. A hand wrapping around her hips and turning her front toward you. A softness and a firmness. Care taken whilst taking what you she offers up.

3. Swiftly. A firm grip that pulls her backwards and penetrates her in a whirlwind of motion. Footholds lost, hips a swinging fulcrum. Vapors of a gasp disappearing in a flash of movement. A jolt, a shake. Sharp, sudden, piercing.

4. Slowly, strongly. Firm hands digging into limbs. A tight grip pinning down wrists. Slow, forceful movements. Contemplative. Deliberate. Thumbs pressing into soft thighs. Hips open like hinges. Complete presence in the stillness.

5. Painfully. Cruel nails grinding down the sides of her ribs. Gripping onto the bone of her hips. Digging into the soft flesh of her waist.

6. Animalistic. A deep, unconscious rhythm from deep in the spine. Rising to the surface.

7. Lovingly. Penetrating, a thunder of emotion crunching through the eyes.

My girl.

There is a point when it all comes out. Every woman reaches a point when she comes, deeper and harder than she thought possible. Her body and her soul open unleashing a storm. Through her tears she quenches an ancient, longing thirst.

This leads us to a beautiful truth about the feminine—every woman is in pain.

It is a pain that goes deeper than the reach of any brutal force or cold analysis. It is something wrapped inside her, around her spine, engulfing her chest. But it is not something to be feared. This is a beautiful agony.

It emerges when she feels that hunger.

A hunger to be loved and cherished. To blossom. To feel. To touch.

And yes, to be ravished.

She feels it in anticipation and in deep harmony. It comes during times of loss, despair and fear. It groans in her sex, screaming in her thrill. It drives into her skin with touch. It deepens with burning love.

Yes, pain, pleasure and love, intricately entwined in this ethereal dance.

And from this, we find the next step in delicious life, love and sex.

The eighth way is to fuck her with deep compassion.

Compassion, as I see it, is my ability to understand your pain. To feel it. To embody it. It is the doorway to spirit.

There is the way I will reach out and touch you. It envelopes the other seven ways. It wraps around our limbs, across our skin, and binds myself into you.

Yes, this is how I can hold you, take you and claim you. This will draw me to you. It will drive me into you.

But you are the one who must invite me.

You must let it happen.

And here is my invite to you and to every woman on the planet.

What will make me come to a woman is not her sex, nor her elegance, nor her strength, nor her brilliant intelligence. It is her openness. How prepared she is to feel that groan, that pain. Feel it, and express it. That is the key.

Do this, and I will know.

Yes, this is a woman who feels deeply. Yes, she engulfs herself in an ocean of love and passion. Yes, this is the one.

And thus, you become a thing to behold. A beautiful creature, curled up, reeling from the burst of catharsis. Fucking beautiful.

What it means to penetrate a woman like this? Difficult to describe. It is simple to simplify, to leave it as a groaning in my cock and balls. In many a sense, this is true, but only partially true.

I suppose I could use the old throwaway words—polarity, masculine and feminine. In a way, they tell us that something exists. There are labels there.

But oh, feeling it is something else entirely.

Gripping ecstasy borne from ancient, primal flesh. A solemn reminder from my body, this sacred quintessence of dust. To be grasped by it, to be driven with it. To be overwhelmed by simple lust.

But oh, there is another place. Another longing. To find the beauty in it. The magic of it.

Drive that stake deep enough into my heart, and you see my soul. For I am forced to move with a single, potent purpose. The sharpness of my action places me in an empty flow. No thoughts distract me. Only instinct. Only my saliva, my blood and my dust.

And therein lies the compassion of my conquest. At a point my singular precision implodes. And I will see the beauty of it. I will sense the burning inside you. I will feel the orgasm erupting within you. I will see you. Look at me. My eyes will write a thousand lines of poetry. Your surrender has conquered me. Your grace has slain me. Your ethereal softness has overpowered me.

From here, there is only us, and only this.

David Esotica works with his partner, Diana, to help women find the earth shattering relationships they crave.They believe in laughing, crying, passion and orgasms. So you can imagine what happens when they talk about sex.  Check out David’s Facebook page Red Silk and his blog David Esotica.

 

 

~

Editor: Lori Lothian

 

Like Elephant Love on Facebook!