Episode 25: Heat

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Marcie Prohofsky hosts this hot evening of erotica at OneTaste™ Urban Retreat Center in San Francisco’s South of Market Neighborhood.

In a piece called Heat, Bob takes us through the journey of his mind and body as his lover makes out with another woman.

With eloquent imagery, Judy takes us deep into the sensation of an orgasmic meditation experience.

Park uses edible words to describe a very sensual, chocolaty experience with his lover in the kitchen.

In a duet with Beth and Noel, we get the hot and raunchy perspectives of stroking and being stroked; the emotions, the sensations, and the desires.

In ‘You Were the One‘ we get a man's memory of the woman who changed his sex life forever.

In ‘Somewhere In Between’ we go into the passionate, but flawed depths of the reader.

Ken improvises about an adventurous sexual experience, using such descriptors as “liquid, metal, electric-fireball, Koala bear, and cat!”

And finally, Lauren closes us out, blowing us away with a juicy fiery song with her whispery seductive voice of her experience being stroked in orgasmic meditation for the first time.

Transcript

Marcie Prohofsky: Welcome to A Taste of Sex: Erotic Poetry Reading. My name is Marcie Prohofsky. Today’s show is recorded live at One Taste in San Francisco. You’ll be hearing prose and poetry from people who are totally willing to share their intimate experiences with you. Anticipate turn on and even inspiration. Here’s a taste from today’s show.

Judy: Contractions pulsing through me like the waves that crash over and over again.

Marcie Prohofsky: Alright, we’re going to get going with Bob. Bob, (cheering) Bob! It’s a piece called Heat.

Bob: So this is a reprise of a piece I read a couple of months back. It’s called Heat: “So she’s upstairs making out with a woman that we’ve sometimes shared and I feel it in my body. There’s heat, there’s wakefulness, there’s a soft clenching and unclenching in my chest like a hand massaging my heart. We fought earlier. My ego was wounded and I hit back trying to prove to her that I’m worth something, that I’m okay, that I’m worthy. The fight started with a tiny incident and grew into a full fledged conversation. Am I enough? Will we stay together? Does she really love me, or does she only love the façade I’m so good at building and maintaining? I feel a barrier beneath my skin as I think about it, and there in the dark listening to this other woman’s sighs and moans it feels like a thick sheet of tinfoil beneath my skin, a barrier that keeps everything out and everything in, but that transmits a deep electric pulse from the external world to my internal world. I’m hard now and wondering if I should go join them. I want to but I also want to feel, and I know that the intrusion of words, faces and voices into this space will bring up my old habit to look good. I can see it in my mind; I’ll go up there, get all suave and charming and we all lose. So instead I lie there in the dark and go over the events of the evening. I feel acutely the sensations of humiliations, I see how childish I’ve been. I feel the waves of energy drifting down from the loft over my body. I picture their bodies entwined, ones head between the others legs, creating an arch of pleasure in her back. I think of pussies and bodies and sweat and the soft under skin moistness that late night sex can bring. I touch myself, amazed at the hardness and the softness of my cock, how it’s like a divining rod feeding off energy in the next room and directing me towards it. There’s pain here and tenderness and a kind of lost feeling. But I think I love it all in this moment, what a privilege it is to feel, I’m alive, my body’s alive and my chest feels strong as, and full, as I arch my back off the bed. As I take myself over the edge the energy leaves my body, or rather it changes and opens. The tinfoil under my skin now is alive and moving. The movements on my skin move deep into my body in waves of subtle release. There’s a tingle, jolt, a sigh and then quiet darkness.” The end.

Marci Prohofsky: Really nice. I love that image, or that, more than just an image, tinfoil underneath your skin. So next we have…Her eyes bug out. She is not ready, resistance consumes her, but she is turned on, I can tell. And she’s going to take us over, I can tell. No, she shakes her head no, no, no. But you know she wants it. Who knows she wants it? Who here knows Judy wants it? Alright. A Sensory Frame.

Judy: This piece is about something that we talk about a lot here at One Taste and that’s and that’s something called a sensory frame and I’ll explain it in the piece, but I just thought I’d say that. “A frame is a sensory snapshot of a moment. The idea is to convey the sensation so that other people can feel what went on in your body. The words are often irrelevant. It is the sensation that counts. Feeling the sensation of another’s experience reminds us that we are all born of the same seed, that we are all descendents of the same source. A frame, if done well, transcends the physical separation that divides us. Here is my frame from yesterday: His finger touches my genitals. He strokes quickly and we climb. It is like someone has attached a marionette string to my bellybutton and pulled up. My body remains firmly planted on the mattress, contractions pulsing through me like the waves that crash over and over again at the ocean’s shore and yet I rise, reaching toward the sky above the roof that is high above our heads. I consider my options. I could quit and fall down or keep going. I choose the latter. Energy washes through me from head to toe, like I am bathing my insides with pure light.”

Marci Prohofsky: Hmm, there you go. Alright, so Park, Cupcake Fudge his piece is called. That sounds interesting, kitchen aeros.

Park: Hi. The scene for this is a woman and her lover, and you will notice some shameless product placement in this if you listen closely enough. “Cupcake, fudge, toffee paste, smudge of chocolate whipped to sludge cooled fast enough to nudge a frost of sugar crystals, icing crusts, whiffs of yum, hungers forged, tongue in lust, please to gorge, lick, luscious, viscus, glazes, must. Candied glistening, coat pan. Swilled smells, impale fingers, hand to mouth, mouthing mm’s, mock moans make madcap giggles. Groans, one taste and yearning grows to ravining. Eyes bulge, refulgent goo, indulge, indulge. Your eyes sponge me, drinking, your hands reach chin, jaw line, cheek. You stop lest you mangle my make-up or my tresses in mingle, hands fumble, bumpy caresses. My cheek tingle. My fudge frosted fingers find your mouth where they linger, in vaguely soft entry, your eyelids now sinking. My eyelashes flicker, pharamones thicker, tumblers click as lust the lock picker opens us both, rides us harder, and ardor, the world herder, drives us even farther. You blush, brush my breasts, look so bothered. I guide your hand to my belt, want my clothes so discarded, whiff of yam, hunger forged, tongue in lust, plea to gorge lick, luscious, viscus, glaze. Yes, must. Candied glistening, coats pan. Swilled smells, impale fingers, hand to mouth, mouthing mm’s. Moans mock all else.”

Marci Prohofsky: Oh, mm mm, that was amazing. Alright, this is a piece called Mama’s Hungry and this is Beth and Noel.

Beth: “He’s mine. He is mine. Putty lying there in front of me. Whenever I want him I can have him. Whatever I want him to do he will do without question. I’m powerful and the best kind of bitch. The bitch who is willing to take responsibility for our experience. I’m going to fuck the daylights out of him right now with my hands. No question about it. I’m the stroker.

Noel: The second my back touched the bed from the stroking my body started to tremble. A surge of energy radiated from my waste and up to my head. It took effort to ground myself so I wouldn’t drift out of my head before we even started.

Beth: Slow down.

Noel: We assumed the proper position that we would maintain for fifteen minutes. She put on her gloves and applied lube to them. She had a strange smile on her face. There was a gleam in her eye. I knew this time was going to be different when she said…

Beth: Mama’s hungry. He’s swelling and twitching before I even touch him. I feel warmth coming off of his soft skin. It makes me that much hungrier for the deep rich sensation that’s there whenever I own him. I’m hooked on this. I demand that he take me on his ride every time. I will settle for nothing less than his complete and total surrender, now, right now.

Noel: I groaned and laughed in fear and anticipation. My body started shuttering, another rush of energy. I sense that there will be no mercy today. She wasn’t going to take it easy on me. She wasn’t going to remind me to ground myself. She wasn’t going to care about my pleasure. She was simply going to drain me of my energy like a vampire.

Beth: I slide his foreskin up and down his cock, slowly, with intention, the intention to torture and stimulate. He breathes in and gasps. I feel my pussy moisten, my leg gets heavier on the ground. We’re melting together, forming one.

Noel: Her finger slid up and down my cock. The energy running through my body and her body increased in intensity. It took every bit of strength to ground myself and to stay focused. She held the cock, squeezed it and toyed with it. Every touch made me writhe in ecstasy.

Beth: His body’s writhing under my leg. I take him up and it feels like we’re both floating above the ground. His eyes are rolling back in his head. I feel a rush of emotions inside of me; excitement, anger, fear, domination. Wait, is domination an emotion? It is now because I say so.

Noel: My leg started to twitch and slowly she caressed my cock again. I started to moan and shake. My breathing became heavy and irregular. I forced my body to stay still. I tried to control my breathing the way Sam had taught me, but it was of no use, because then she tapped the head of my cock twice lightly, very light. Nothing happened until three seconds later when a delayed reaction of heavy spasm wracked my body. My back arched as though I’d been electrocuted. My legs shook. My eyes bugged out as I stared at the ceiling. I was leaving my body.

Beth: I drag my hands up his shaft lightly and quickly. I feel a thick rush of energy leave his cock under my hands and float above his body towards his face. I hold still right there, slightly quivering, knowing that I can do whatever I want to with his body right now. Do you know what that feels like, to have complete and total control over another human being? I just didn’t move. There’s too much power to move even one muscle. We breathe together.

Noel: Then she passed my hand over my chest and I snapped back into my body. My back flattened out on the bed with impact. “Mother fucker”, I muttered. “How the hell did you learn that?” She smiled when she heard that. Her hair was hanging over her face, her mouth was opened, her eyes were closed staring inwardly at some demonic vision. Like a shaman she swayed from side to side. She moved my cock like the witch in MacBeth stirring the witches caldron.

Beth: And then the downs. The dirty, nasty, gritty down strokes that I love so much, either giving or receiving. He literally sounds like a wailing prisoner now, my prisoner, mine, going down, squeezing, throbbing, pulsing, sliding down.

Noel: Then with a sudden movement she pulled her hand all the way down my shaft. Once again spasms wracked my body. My mouth suddenly became very dry. This time my head felt like it was going to explode. I don’t remember what happened after that, I was semiconscious until after the session. Only the intense grounding pressure that she applied to my perineum and shaft eventually brought me back to earth. Exhausted I looked up at her, nodded my head and said, “What mama wants, mama gets.”

Marci Prohofsky: So, I’m going to take a break, and meet someone new over the break, I have two assignments, meet someone new, it’s a three part assignment: meet someone new, ask them what they want and share a frame. Remember what a frame is, a sensory frame from this first half of the evening, okay? You got ten minutes to do it. Alright, go.

Marci Prohofsky: What do I want? Oh gosh, publicly asked. Wow, that’s almost like being tarred and feathered. Lets watch, dark. Perverted specimen. Am I, is this on, is this? It is, it is. It’s recording. Oh goody. I love that. Alright. What I want is, I want to move through letting go of this space I’ve been renting for ten years with ease and grace and totally trust that it’s the right thing. Amen. I feel like, everyone meditate on that for ten hours. Alright, we’re going to, in the meantime while you’re meditating on that, we’re going to totally get off, totally get off. Alright, Fred, You Were the One. Ready? Alright.

Fred: This one is called You Were the One. “You were 18. I was a whole lot older. You caught me by surprise because you were the one. I can’t really remember if we met first or we fucked first, but you were the one. I’d been with many women before you and many since, but you were the one. In our games I played the teacher, a pure charade. You taught me. You taught me about play, you taught me about fantasy, you taught me about sex, you taught me about life, but mostly you taught me about me. You were the one. We’d lay in bed before, during or after and you’d ask me my fantasies, demand them really. Not as some abstraction, but as something you were going to do whenever, wherever and however I wanted. You wanted an instruction manual, a detailed instruction manual to me. And just when I thought I’d told you everything, when I thought I’d been as nasty and selfish and disgusting, as perverted as any woman could handle, you’d smile at me and say, “Tell me more”, and you meant it. You meant it. I couldn’t offend you. I couldn’t put you off. No matter what I said or what I did, I couldn’t make you judge me. Everything I wanted was okay, every dream, every fantasy, every desire, it was all part of one big game. It was part of me and that made it okay. I was okay. You were, after all, the one. Oh, we had nothing in common except sex. We had no illusions, this was fucking. There would be no happily ever afters, no 2.3 kids, no PTA meetings. There was now and there would be memories of now. But you were the one. You were the one who opened my eyes. You were the one who changed me. You were the one who opened my heart, who opened my soul, who opened me. You were the one who made it so I could never go back. You drew a line in my life, on one side is before and on the other side is after. You taught me how to be a great lover by being a great lover, and by only demanding that I be me. And you made me a great lover because I learned from the best. I learned from you. You made my darkest, nastiest, scariest fantasies my brightest memories. You pulled the thorn out of my paw, licked off the blood, smiled, laughed and said, “Tell me more”. You were the one who spoiled me. You were the one who saved me and you were the one who ruined me. You were the one. Thank you.

Marci Prohofsky: So I want all of you to close your eyes. Close your eyes sneeker peeker. And draw a line from the sky down through your third eye, your heart, your genitals, down in between your feet, down inside of the earth. One side to the left is before. The other side is after. And stirring in your heart is a picture of the person that is that lover that took you from before to after. And when you’re ready you can open your eyes. Okay. So, Jared.

Jared: Thank you. “Sure, love is on my mind as I touch your thigh, firm or soft or somewhere in between. Sure she’s turned on. I see it in her eyes, wide open or squinting or somewhere in between. So slightly nervous behind the eyes was one of my latest flaws. Yet I could tell if all was open that flaw would not have led to doubt, rather orgasm, ecstasy, a reason to exist would stand and shout, moan, gladly whimper and whisper its delight. Sure as I enter this moist, as I clutch her breast, firm or soft or some where in between, sure love is in pleasure, wide open or squinting or some where in between. So as I describe my further enlightenment, be it a dimly lit room with one candle, firm and strong, standing in the welcoming darkness, or a shining star that if used correctly can warm so many from so far away. I can gladly be openly erotic, praising my love for life, like.

Marci Prohofsky: Alright. Captain Orgasm is a piece by Ken. Improvised?

Ken: Yes.

Marci Prohofsky: Ooh, baby.

Ken: So what’s my essence, I think. Well they asked it last night. So I’m this liquid metal electric fireball koala bear cat. So I have this friend and it’s a great experience with her. I go by and we connect on a minimal level, but then she know what she wants. She wants sex. So we’re in the bed and I’m on top of her and I’m feeling this time I’m going to let her in deeper. I’m not going to close off. I’m just going to be relaxed and be there. And we’re on this ride and I can just feel every inch of her on me. Oh. And my intention, I just want to take her wherever I’m going. I don’t know where I’m going, and I find out I’m the captain of this ship. And I can see my hands gripping the mattress like this panther’s deep grabbing at the, oh, I’m going to poke a whole in the mattress, Jesus. And it’s not so intense as much as it’s just I’ve never been here before. And she says, “Where did you take me?” “It was Mathemagic Land.” “Is that where you go?” “Yeah baby, that’s where I hang out. It’s cubes and triangles and, oh yeah, there’s a nebula. It’s ionic gases. It’s sexy. Math is sexy.” So we’re talking, and I’m seeing these flashes in my eyes in the dimly lit room and, whoa, it’s like x-ray and it’s, “Man I just had this bright flash between my eyes”, and she says, “Well don’t have a stroke.” “Right, right. Well I think I’m okay this time.” And we laugh ‘cause I’m an idiot, but I’m Captain Orgasm.

Marci Prohofsky: We’re going to end this set with a hot piece by Lauren. Alright, this is a piece called Oh My Goodness.

Lauren: (Song) Time begins to move. I unlace my shoes, open up my knees, feel you breathe. I’m caught in my head when your finger embeds, anchoring down like a serpents tongue, and oh my goodness. Oh my goddess. My ego sips tea, anger pours down my sleeves, doling out the judgments of what came before, and in the shadows of shame I dance with my pain. It rains down my spine to a pulsating gorge, and oh my goodness. Oh my goddess. Shiver me timber. I’m longing to surrender. So I let my throat open to wet your finger stroking. All the lights of disco balls tower around, feel your ass on the ground, the earth resound, enveloping us unto eternal now. Oh my goodness. Oh, oh, oh, oh, stop. No. Don’t refrain. I’m insane in my longing to know that I am free from all the traps and free from what distracts me, being part of something more than me, pleasure or pain, turn on or rage, I don’t know if I can keep playing this game. Oh, oh my goodness. Oh, oh my goddess. Oh, oh. Ohhhhhh, time. Thank you.

Marci Prohofsky: So, here we go, another night at Taste of Sex. My name is Marci Prohofsky. Thank you so much for being here. We’re at One Taste in San Francisco. You can find us at onetaste.us. So we’ll see you next time. Thank you for coming.