Episode 10: What She Really Wants

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Marcie Prohofsky hosts this hot evening of erotica at OneTaste Urban Retreat Center, an innovative laboratory researching connection in San Francisco's South of Market Neighborhood. Hold on tight to your genitals as you head behind the velvet curtains for a stimulating ride with a community of orgasmic researchers in the sexually liberated, Post New Age world. This episode is catapulted into oozing sensation with Kate's poetic "Head Space"-with her gyrating frantically, under "a sexy straight girl dance", discover what she really wants.

Transcript

What She Really Wants

Announcer: This program brought to you by PersonaLifeMedia.com is suitable for mature audiences only, and may contain explicit sexual information.

[music]

Marcie Prohofsky:  My name is Marcie Prohofsky and welcome to ‘A Taste of Sex’ erotic poetry readings.  One Taste Urban Retreat Center in San Francisco is a place of freedom.  It’s where people come together to explore their desires on a physical level, on emotional level and just a raw, raw, raw sensational level.  We don’t just write it, we live it.

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My fingers want to stroke harder and faster than usual.  They want to take him under control.  My mind says but what if you’re wrong?  What if it’s not what he wants?  How badly will you feel?  My hands win.  They stroke with the kind of attention that one might give to needing dove where you notice density and texture and the molding of flower and taste to meet your skin.  With one hand, I pull on the under side of his cock.

Marcie:  So I want to welcome again to tonight’s erotic couple night and we’ll get going with…we have Kate, the piece called ‘headspace’ and it’s about acceptance.

Kate:  I want to fuck everything up.  I want to fidget fumbling scattered sucking as my lips find their way to your cunt.  Tentatively tracing the curves of your thighs, my jittery knife neck turns, sense of onions and bleach linger after two showers and never working and effect shift again.

[laughter]

I am gyrating frantically in a self-imposed straight jacket, underneath a translucent sexy straight girl dance.

Pissed off, lonely, obsessive and too afraid to throw you down to rebuff your pants.  Please tell me I am hard, tell me I am good, tell me I am the one, let me trip on the tips of my scuffed out, sling back pumps and stumble head first into your arms.  I want to fuck.  Of the flow of my unleashed desire and still be worthy of your love.

[applaud]

Marcie:  That was good.  How about Isaac?  This is a piece called ‘A piece of meat’.  Take it away, baby.

Isaac:  Well, it’s though you get it to someone who is not here, who asked that I write a piece along these lines.  So this is for Ms. ‘A’.  So I am Isaac and this is my piece and it’s titled ‘A piece of meat’, okay?

Women are not pieces of meat.  I have been told that repeatedly.  What about me?  I am a piece of meat.  At least I like to think of myself that way, sometimes.  The prey, the graceful gazelle as he bounces through the prairies.  Objectify me please, I am a piece of meat, a raw, uncooked, prime piece of meat on display.  I like the meat market.  Hang me by a hook and show me off.  I want to be desired by some hunger thing to be chosen and bought and taken home by someone from the meat market.

First, defrost it.  Slowly, sitting there naked, freezing in the middle of someone’s kitchen, making them wait hours until the kid start playing with me, tenderizing me, working me over until I am like buddy in the hands.

Next I marinate, sitting in these juices for hours, building the tumescence, the turn on, soaking it all into my raw flesh, drinking in the flavor that will be cooking into me.  Saturated with turn on, like right now. 

Then, you throw me on the grill.  I sizzle and pop as the morning ecstasy, waiting for the inevitable mark, your grill will beaver my raw uncooked, exposed backside.  Leave me a little rear so my juices will squirt ever so gently into your mouth as you bit into me.  I can even bring some friends if you so desire, some Italian sausage, Polish sausage, rump roast, nibble, snack or really chow down, it’s up to you.  After all, what’s so great about window-shopping at the meat market?

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Listen to ‘A Taste of Sex’ live in an orgasm based community, a weekly online audio program where orgasmic innovator show the intricacies of their practice on PersonalLifeMedia.com.

[music]

Marcie:  Okay, and welcome back.  This is Marcie Perhovsky and we are having a taste of sex here tonight at One Taste, Urban Retreat Center in San Francisco and this is a collaboration with Personal Life Media at PersonalLifeMedia.com.  You can also check us out at OneTasteSF.com, you can also find us on, actually a couple of new spots.  YouTube, we have some vignettes from erotic open mike, from ‘A Taste of Sex’ on You Tube, this was other great of video pieces that you can hear on YouTube.

So there’s all sorts of ways to tune in to what we are talking about and showing tonight.  So the first step, we have Judy with a piece called ‘Do I look silly’?  It’s a piece about a male umm.

“Do I look silly”, he asks.  His open shirt reveals an almost hairless chest and slightly protruding belly.  “Yes”, I say, without much thought because what other answer is there?  This is our relationship.  We tease, we are honest, we are familiar.  We look for assurances and usually get it, no matter what the world say.

His cock is in front of me, flopped over his balls in that un-erect way.  He is waiting.  I want to tease him a little more and look at his face, “Are you ready”?  “Yes, yes, I am already hard”, he says, the impatience showing in his voice.

I glance down at his cock, checking it out.  He doesn’t look hard to me.  I imagine the beginnings of it, feel them in my body, I feel tissue pushing out, expanding through the barrier of the tight pink skin.  I grab just below the tip and run my fingers down the shaft.  He moans slightly as if we have activated some invisible gremlin.  I squeeze tightly as my palm and fingers travel from bottom to top and back again.

I feel a confidence, I feel a confidence this morning that ironically makes me unsure.  My fingers want to stroke harder and faster than usual.  They want to take him under control.  My mind says, “But what if you’re wrong?  What if it’s not what he wants? How badly will you feel?” 

My hands win.  The stroke with the kind of attention that one might give to needing dove where you notice density and texture and the molding of flower and paste beneath your skin.  With one hand, I pull on the underside of his cock, the other works deep handed, traveling slowly up and then abruptly changing direction to come down, surprising him so that he mutters, “Oh god”.

I am maneuvering as if driving a racecar never show where the next turn is or whether I will topple over it, I take it too tightly.  I am following sensation and it is exhilarating.  I hear small moans coming from my mouth and it is now I who am surprised.  A rarely moan, not even during my own umm sessions when my body shakes to let the rocket fuel of energy pass through me.

Nonetheless, short aahs and ohhs escape my mouth.  Our sexual energies are merged and I am turned on in a way that I cannot remember in a long time.  We are once lovers, now friends and confidants.  I like him. I am attracted to him.  We have always had good sex but for the past few months a barrier stands between us.  I wonder if this is just the way of things, perhaps we’re just meant to be friends.  Perhaps we are not meant to have sex, at least for now or is the barrier some hurdle that we must pass on the way to a deeper intimacy, or is the deeper intimacy simply an acknowledgment of how we are now?  Can you tell, I mean my head often?

These questions run through my mind frequently but this morning, my mind quiets as my hands take control.  I feel free in my sex.  It is natural, flowing, even and real.

[applaud]

Marcie:  And this incredible level of [??] from our resident journaling leader.  Judy, she really leads such an incredible journaling program here at One Taste that gets so many people, so many people that don’t even consider themselves as writer, to tap into sensation and with you know, she posed us a simple question, usually one that she has been obsessing about herself, she so confesses, and it gets everybody, it’s just a launching pad for people to investigate and write and share some really fabulous things and you can actually participate in our journaling by going to our chat board on our website which is OneTastesf.com.  You navigate the chat board and then often times the question of the day will be posed and people will post their writings there.

We also have a team in New York that’s starting to do journaling there as well.  So we’ve got some of the east coast, west coast journaling phenomenon happening and so I invite all of you to participate.  Whoever you are around the planet, you can start to participate with us and play with us in that way as well as start to explore your own sensuality, so come on board, and that’s it.  We would like to hear from you, my friend.  My Italian friend, Marco.

This is a piece called…lost the title, ooh yeah, it’s a good one - ‘From the stars to the stables in 69 minutes’, oh and it’s sometimes things don’t happen the way you plan but keep a sense of humor and all will get okay.

Marco:  I’d like to get up.  From the stars to the stables in 69 minutes.  I spotted an intriguing note published in an anonymous lady, made by an anonymous lady on a local electronic bulletin board.  The mysterious lady was looking for a special way to celebrate their birthday.  She wanted a man to pamper her and seduce her, from dusk until dawn, in the night of her birthday.

She welcome any interested candidate to send her a reply including a clean portrait of himself in a proposal describing in detail how he was planning to entertain her and seduce her.  So I will try to give you that [??].  I sent her an email presenting my seduction plan and a nice portrait of myself.  The picture was taken during vacations, so it was a very beautiful and since seven early hours before but it was still quite credible.

My seduction plan included a dinner at an Italian restaurant in San Francisco and moonlight serenade with my guitar as moon cruise on a rear Venetian going to Long Lake married, then go into dance to light music at some salon in on Grant Street and a visit to an erotic park theme to South America before bedtime in some erotic whispering in Italian kara, kara, kara…

The lady send me a reply including a few photos of herself.  She said she liked my proposal therefore I was among the few lucky men that was qualified, as they were qualified for the final selection.  She wanted to talk with me on the phone and to make sure that I was still interested and also attracted to her after seen her pictures.  We had a good fun conversation and I told her I liked her. 

The next day she called again to announce the good news, I was the chosen one.  It was great.  On the day of her birthday at 7:00 p.m. sharp, I went to her house.  We finally met in person.  She liked the flowers I brought her and would spend some time in her garden where I play a little bit orchestra.  We chatted about this and that, then we went back inside.  I massage her on the bed.  She feels good and we got quiet and gone. 

We decided to modify our plan and take a shower together.  We get naked and jaunted to the shower.  I embraced her with body.  She sends a kiss softly and then more and more passionately.  Our hearts were beating faster and faster.  We get very very busy.  We felt lost in disoriented.  We were barely able to breathe.  It was at that moment that we realized that we had been going too far and in a way too fast.

We ran too far and I know we were astray beyond the point of no return.  We begin to get nervous so we decided to get back to plan ‘A’.  It was 12:00 for dinner.  Silently we got the rest.  We went downstairs.  She then turn my cap.  She was serious and visibly shaken.  She apologized and dismissed me.  She dismissed me.  I apologized too even though she could not hear me anymore.  She was gone.  It was 8 or 9:00 p.m.  I took a deep breath of sincere relief.  I shook my head and smiled.  69 minutes to fall from the beautiful stars back into the mud.  Freefalling from being an astronaut on a special mission to Venus, to feeling like a jackass in the stinky tables of Mars.

All without a safety net, this must be a record.

Marcie:  So you’ve had a full experience, huh?  Now you believe we don’t just ride it, we live it.  All right, thank you for tuning in.  This radio show has been brought to you by One Taste Urban Retreat Center in San Francisco and Personal Life Media.  To contact us, please send us an email at [email protected].  You can also find out more information by going to personallifemedia.com or check us out at OneTastesf.com.  Thanks so much.  Thanks for staying tuned in and thanks most of all for staying turned on.

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Announcer:  Find more great shows like this on personallifemedia.com.