Episode 26: The Elusive Search for Turn On

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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.

In ‘The elusive search for turn on’ Judy tells us about a sexual experience that left her unsure of what it means to feel turned on.

Noel reads ‘Her Fantasy’, a prose of a raunchy sexual experience with a woman as she watches a pornographic film.

Ken reads a metaphorical piece called ‘Butterfly’ to describe the feel of his woman.

Lauren sings an upbeat tune called ‘Boy likes Girl’, about an intricate love triangle turned into a love
rectangle.

That’s all until next time…

Transcript

Marci Prohofsky: Thanks for joining us tonight. My name is Marci Prohofsky and welcome to our erotic open mic event. This is One Taste. We’re in San Francisco. This event is co-produced with a company called Personal Life Media, and it’s edited into a show that you can download on iTunes or you can also go to personallifemedia.com and check it out there. There’s all the archives and past shows, there’s two other shows that we actually record at One Taste that are fantastic. There’s a reality program with, that interviews people from our One Taste world and gets kind of underneath, you know, kind of the back-story of their lives. And then we also have a guest speaker interview program, which is part of our hybrid lecture series that happens every Tuesday night here at One Taste.

The sap flows, I swell. I am a red wood. Thrusting into the sky, I am stiff and hard and majestic, and I feel you hook into me making your cocoon. You’re nesting in me. You’re going to leave, I can feel it. Stay caterpillar.

Marci Prohofsky: So, lets get going with, dum dum dum dum dum dum dum, hey, Judy. So this is called The Illusive Search for Turn On. Alright, lets go to Judy.

Judy: Hi. This is my first time ever speaking into a microphone that’s actually on, so. Yeah, so as Marci said this piece is called The Illusive Search for Turn On. “I’m lying on top of him, my legs straddled around his waste when he says that I’m not turned on. I bolt up right, alert. “What do you mean?”, I ask. He says he cannot feel my desire. I feel defensive. I start to throw it back. “Maybe we just define turn on differently”, I say. “Maybe you are the one who cannot feel.” A mixture of terror and relief overcome me. Terror for fear of the consequences, “Will he leave me now?” Terror for fear of what it means about me, “Is there something wrong? Am I inadequate?” Relief because I have wondered about this very topic myself. After three months together we have become like an old married couple who are comfortable and happy, but simply put, have lost the spark of sex. I don’t understand it. I like him. I am attracted to him. In bed while we sleep his smooth body feels like a second skin. We stay connected through most of the night, at one point of contact; an elbow, a foot, a leg, an arm. When he puts his arm around me I press tightly into him, closing the space between us. So you see, it’s all very nice, but turn on, at least how he defines it, it isn’t there. Not that I care. Turn on is not really my thing. It never occurred to me that it mattered. I either wanted sex or I didn’t. Okay, I’ll admit it. Actually, what he says hurts and is confusing. I’ve never felt insecure about my sexuality. My attractiveness, yes. That I was deserving of love, yes. But my sexuality I took for granted because it was mostly there and in space when I needed it. I think back nostalgically to the first weeks of our relationship. I remember waking up slightly embarrassed to find my hand on his genitals, having moved there of its own accord. Or when we both awoke in the middle of the night and began grasping at each other as if we had not eaten in a long, long time. So maybe it’s not the man, but the chase that turns me on. He says he has not given up, and neither have I. I believe this is my next phase to find my turn on for real. To turn on the tap and let it flow. His head is between my legs. I feel moist and hot. How many times in my 20’s and 30’s did I wish for a man who would persist, who would not complain, who would quell my insecurities about wanting sex and take pleasure in pleasuring me. Here I have it and I’m not turned on. I like what’s happening, but, you know, it’s not like I would die for it. It’s not like if we stopped right now I would be sad. It might even be a relief. I keep thinking that he will stop, but he keeps going. I tell myself to concentrate, to feel. You know that you’re in your head when you are thinking about sex while having it. Panic sets in. “What if I can’t turn on?” “No, no, stop”, I tell myself, “You can’t do this, not now. Maybe later, but for now, focus. Feel, just feel.” I notice that I like the way his tongue flickers and also the way it digs inside. It’s like he is searching too. We are on a treasure hunt for the illusive ruby of raw animal passion. And then it happens. I feel a shift. The thoughts fade and we are no longer two bodies, but two points of electricity who meet. The pilot light lit, we are flowing and sparks are flying everywhere. Two become one stream of energy in the universe, one point of connection. We are turned on.”

Marci Prohofsky: Noel, oh yes. And you’re reading Her Fantasy. Not mine? Maybe it is mine.

Noel: “I want to see some porn”, she said. “Every guy has some on his computer. Show me what’s on yours. Show it to me on your big screen and video projector.” “Okay”, I said. “Why don’t you sit in that big leather chair facing the screen. I’ll get you a drink.” I pull down the screen, turn on the projector and started playing a DVD of two guys having sex with one woman. She sat in the chair. When I came back with her vodka and orange juice, she was wearing only her bra and panties. Her eyes were glued to the picture of a woman doing double penetration on the screen. She was playing with herself. She took the drink without her eyes leaving the screen. Right away she drank it all down and handed the glass back to me for a refill without looking at me or saying a word. When I came back with more drink, I was naked. I gave her the drink. While she drank, I knelt on the floor in front of her right between her legs. I took the empty glass from her hands and put it on the floor. Her eyes were still transfixed to the action, on the action on the screen. I pulled down her panties. She barely seemed to notice. She was breathing heavily. She rested her hands on the arms of the chair. I spread her legs and kissed her pussy several times. Then I licked it slowly, casually tasting the juices. She shivered, and then she removed her bra. I kept eating her pussy. After a few minutes I put my finger in there. She moaned and trembled. Her eyes were still transfixed on the screen. Then she looked down at me. I looked up at her and said, “Don’t look at me. Look at the screen. It’s your fantasy.” Then I grabbed her hand and put it on my head. She grabbed my hair and pushed my face into her pussy while I kept eating her out. After a while, she shuttered and came, all the while looking at the action on the screen. After a few minutes I pull my head out of her grip. Then I lay down on the floor on my back and I told her, “Come here, sit on my cock.” She stared at my erection for a few seconds. Then she got out of the chair, stood over me and looked at the shadow her body made with the writhing moving bodies on the screen. The she slowly sat on me and started moving cowgirl style. She moved, she moaned, she looked down at me, and I told her, “Don’t look at me, look at the screen. It’s your fantasy.” She moved faster and harder until I thought I was going to break. She came again. For several minutes she sat on my cock without moving, just staring at the screen. Then I said, “Get up. Go stand behind the leather chair that you were sitting in.” She got up and stood behind the chair. I went over, bent her over the chair face down with her arms over the arms of the chair. Then I entered her from behind and slowly started fucking her. She fucked back. Slow, steady fucking. I noticed that she was facing down at the chair, not up at the screen. So I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back so that she had to look at the screen. I told her, “Don’t look down at the chair, look at the screen. It’s your fantasy. That’s when she lost control and started fucking back really hard, pushing my body back so that I had to hold on to her hair to avoid being thrown off. Then with a massive shutter she came again. Finally I let go of her hair and she stayed still. My cock was still in her, hard and pulsating. Covered in sweat, she turned her head to look back at me and said with a big smile, “Hey, it’s your fantasy too.” She laughed and looked back at the screen and started pushing herself against my cock again. She was right. It was our fantasy now.”

Marci Prohofsky: This is a piece called Butterfly, this is Ken. What?

Ken: “I feel you on my roots. Your delicate feet touching me through the bark of who I am, through that tough exterior. I feel you traveling, you want something, you’re going somewhere, you’re on me. Where are you going, caterpillar? I feel you in my leaves, you’re chewing me up. Ow, stop. You’re eating me alive and I love it. The sap flows, I swell. I am a red wood. Thrusting into the sky, I am stiff and hard and majestic, and I feel you hook into me, making your cocoon. You’re nesting in me. You’re going to leave, I can feel it. Stay, caterpillar. Don’t change. And I feel you. Your wings, the beauty. You fly away. Butterfly, come back. Rest on me. I want to see you again, butterfly. I am the red wood and you are the butterfly.”

Marci Prohofsky: Very nice. Thank you. Okay. Baby, you ready? Lauren. This is a piece called Boy Meets Girl.

Lauren: So actually it’s not Boy Meets Girl, it’s Boy Likes Girl. That was a mistake on my part, I just wrote it yesterday and forgot what the words were, so. Okay. It’s a lot hotter here than it was in the hot seat earlier. I just want to make that really clear. “Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. I’ll say it all once more. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. A story now unfurles, mm mmm. Attraction grows. Respect follows. I feel them in my dreams. Caressing her, possessing him. A conduit it seems. Follow we in a g direction yet unknown. If we’re to see what’s to be will be, we must learn to let go of holding on. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. I’ll say it all once more. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. Our story now unfurles, mm hmm, mm. I feel your breath upon my neck. You smell like other girl. And then I get all hot and think about what you’ve done before. Do you think of her when I lick your salty cock? Do you think of me when she rides you from the top? Oh, in the morn the sun is warm, let the strokes begin. I hear her moan, that’s an own, we ride the same trip. My mind goes into how you would stroke her turned on clit. Wonder what the difference is between our touch and our feel. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. But wait, there’s still some more. Other boy likes other girl. Other girl likes that boy too. Triangle to rectangles. What are we to do? Mm, mm, mm. What will the world think of me in this galactic scheme? What happened to simplicity? This question I keep asking. Maybe this rectangular connection needs some space. Or maybe we say, “Fuck it all”, and plunge into the waste. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Girl likes other girl. Other girl likes boy likes girl. I’ll say it all once more. Other boy likes other girl. Other girl likes that boy too. Triangle to rectangle. What are we to do? Mm mm. Thank you.

Marci Prohofsky: So, you’ve had a full experience, huh? Now you believe, we don’t just write it, we live it. I want to thank you for tuning in. This radio show’s 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.