Episode 18 - Armed and Dangerous

Transcript

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

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Sam Gedal: Good evening. Welcome to One Taste: Erotic Open Mike. My name is Sam Gedal, and I’ll be your host this evening. We have tonight our Erotic Open Mike. We give you a little view of our lives and the readings and the poems and the writings of what it’s like to live in a sensuality community.

Tonight, we have a couple of different people sharing their deepest and darkest secrets. We hope that you all enjoy yourselves.

Just a little about One Taste. We are an intentional community. We live together and work together and run the center. You all can’t see it out here but the center that we are standing in right now. We’ve come together to do life together because we found that it is more enjoyable to do it together than to do it apart.

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Yia: She’s beneath me. My hand lingers above her curly black pubic hair with strands of white. I tease the outside of her pussy with my finger lingering but not touching. I brush her pubic hair, and heat pours out of her pussy and onto my hand.

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Sam: I would like to bring Yia up. Yia has taken on a new sport. This is not a sport that you would find in the Olympics. It is not even something you would find in the NFL or baseball or basketball. It doesn’t have a big corporate sponsor yet, but leave it to Yia and I am sure she will find one. We’ll just have Yia talk about her new sport.

Yia: Speaking of the sport, this is something that is new and fresh for me. It’s called “Slut with a Strap-0n”.

Number 1: She’s beneath me. Her smooth, creamy, naked body tightens a bit, and she looks at me with big, bright green eyes. “Put the condom on, I order” and she put on the condom obediently. I lower myself rubbing my rubber cock on the outside of her pussy. She quivers and I push in smooth and slow. Her quivering turns to sobs, and after a few more strokes I stop. I check in with her, and we talk for a few minutes.

We start again. We breathe together, in and out with our breaths, in and out with my cock. A wave jolts through my pussy. She tells me to stop, and we stop and check in again. The fear intended pours out her eyes and I can see the little girl in her who just wants to be handled and taken care of. We separate.

Number 2: She’s beneath me. My hand lingers above her curly black pubic hair with strands of white. I tease the outside of her pussy with my finger lingering but not touching. I brush her pubic hair, and heat pours out of her pussy and onto my hand.

What do you want? I ask looking into her eyes. She gives me a bratty response: What do you have? No, No, No. I stick my finger into her pussy as she opens, already hot and wet and ready. I slide my finger in and out of her, and she moans a look of pure pleasure on her face. Do you want more? Yes, she wants more.

I want you to fuck me, she pleads. I slide my cock in her wet velvety pussy as she opens, swallowing my cock. She looks at me and smiles pure pleasure. Wave after wave of her orgasmic energy flows through my body. My pussy burns and itches to be filled as I fill her up with my cock. I reach my finger down and stroke her clit. She smiles with ecstasy and a look of hungry contentment. We ride and ride the slick syrup of her lust, and I can feel her hunger, her lust and her power beneath me as heat courses through my body.

Number 3: She’s beneath me ready to receive me, ready to have fun and share her pleasure, ready to own her hunger and her turn-on. I’m in her. Her eyes close as she pulls my hair tight and pulls my lips towards her. Her soft, supple lips melt into mine, the same way her supple body gives in beneath me. She is soft and strong and powerful and wet. She blows through me, and my body sinks into her. I pump my cock in her, and she surrenders to her own pleasure.

Number 4: He’s in front of me ready and surrendered. I pat his firm soft ass, and my finger makes its way into his anus. I massage him and feel him buckle. Relax. His body relaxes. My finger makes its way in, and he clamps down. Relax. He gives in some more. I make my way in slowly, slowly teasing him to relax. My finger burns. The hot heat from his body makes its way into my finger. I take my cock in my hand.

Are you ready? Yes, he is ready. I make my way in slowly, ever so slowly. He buckles. Relax. He relaxes and moans. His moans encourage me to continue. I inch in more and more and his vulnerability and willingness to try this for the first time overwhelms me. Love pours out of me and into my cock and into him. He starts to move against me, in and out. Do you like this? Yes, he says. Moving against me some more, I surrender to his surrender.

Thank you. [applause]

Sam. Wow! So, I think – what’s that sporting goods store that’s up the street, it’s now selling your line of sporting goods, right? Strap-ons and dildos are going to be the ‘Yia’ line. So look for that at your neighborhood sporting goods store.

I would like to share something. First, I thought I was going to share an experience. Part of the experience happened last night, but it challenged me to do something more improv, so I am going to wing it.

I can come up here and tell you about the night I had last night. Sure, I could do that, tell you about how I approached her and her bottom, her vema dominatrix and her bottom being the woman that she just had in my pajamas like a small boy walking across the floor – waiting, not knowing what is going to wait for me on the other side, feeling scared, my heart pounding but knowing that I have to go, knowing that I have to cross over. We have talked about this for quite a while, and it’s time.

Sure, I could come up here and tell you all about that. I feel that sensation of waiting to be possibly killed, a sensation that I had been saying: No way, man, not me; sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy. Or I can tell you about how I was really killed. The sensation last night was incredible. It freed me. The sensation this afternoon truly killed me.

What’s the difference, you ask? It’s called surrender. Last night I chose to give myself over. This afternoon I didn’t, and she killed me more skillfully than I have ever been killed before.

Men have a code. It’s kind of funny. You say: Yes. Hey, buddy can you drive me to such-and-such place? At the time, you say: Yeah. Your buddy arrives. Cool, dude. All right. That’s the code, you know. You ask for it. You ask for this; you get that. All right, right on.

Women don’t really operate by that code. It’s kind of funny that way. You ask for something. They’ll say: Yes. But then something happens along the way; they’ve got a different change of mind. They’ve had different thoughts. The difference today was I didn’t surrender. I didn’t surrender to her wanting to make her mark. I could surrender last night because I could feel the love and the support. I didn’t surrender today because I didn’t feel that she’d be there on the other side, and I didn’t trust her. I didn’t want to trust her. She killed me, and I’m dead for it.

Last night, I can talk about that and Yia’s new toy and being taken. But I’d rather tell you about the place where I learned more about myself – this afternoon, as a man that when it comes time to really surrendering, when it comes to really opening yourself up to the place, dropping your ego and the place where it’s hardest and when you don’t do it, then you’re dead and you’re dead for a very long time.

Thank you. [applause]

Sam: I would like to bring up Ken next. He is our back of the house this evening. He and Alutha are holding us really well. So, I’m going to bring Ken up and see if he’ll soften in front of us.

Ken I: In this improvisation I want to talk about something that happened that sort of aroused me, and let’s see how poetic I can make it.

So I was having this ‘ohm’. It’s what we do here; it’s orgasmic meditation. I was having this ohm with ‘S’. I say ‘S’ because I’m don’t know if she wants me to mention her name. The energy was moving, and I felt this heat in my body. So, when we were done ‘S’ was talking to me and she knows my research partner and was asking me: So, what do you want from her? I don’t know.

At that moment I heard her, my research partner, enjoying her own ohm. I noticed that there was something about her voice. It was like an instrument. It was like a violin to me. It hit my ears, and I felt this chill. And I just noticed that I enjoyed the sound of her voice. In her ohm, I’m thinking someone’s stroking her clit. She’s getting off. Who is it? I feel this heat, this jealousy, and I want to know who it is. But, I don’t say anything to the woman I’m with. It’s: OK, we’re done.

So, I sneak to where my partner is and the ohm was over but she was there having this hot make-out, his fingers were in her pussy stroking her. She was getting off. She was moving, and I was stunned. I’ve become so obsessed with this woman. I’m watching, and I sneak over and I decide in that moment I’m going to do something different. I’m not going to be jealous. I’m not going to run out of the room screaming in my head.

I come over and she catches my eye and she winks at me. And I say: Well, I’m just watching. She says: Come here. And I come closer, and she says: Kiss me. At that moment I felt myself melt, and I realize that eroticism is a flow in our life and we can choose to be part of it or we can choose to cut it off, and I’m choosing to be part of it.

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Sam: Alutha.

Alutha: Thank you, Sam. I am going to be reading from a post that I did over a year ago after I took the, at what the time was called: The What Ten Women Want You to Know course. The What Ten Women course started with a discussion of women’s games, and then the women bared themselves for us. I found these conversations not confronting but intensely liberating.

A part of me had come to realize many years ago that the game was rigged, and I refused to play any more not by avoiding games but by avoiding people. I disappeared into myself. I was in a stand-off moving neither forward nor backward. It was exhilarating to have it named, distinguished in community - the underlying tacit agreement on power.

Who has it and who doesn’t? The rage that women felt at having to beg for morsels, the tug of war between women and men’s in need to stand and know themselves is powerful and the wreckage of that war. Spirit denied. Presence twisted and distorted. Connection morphing between manipulation and coercion. In a field with no honor. What good was it to be a man?

But, now something beat in me; slowly but now quicker. My hand found its way around a forgotten sword. Women spoke their truth, first about their rage; then their strategies to defy the bitter, twisted rule of the world they found themselves in. And, finally, they rawed us, spoke straight about what they found disastrous, distasteful or just missing in who we were around women.

A space was cleared and clawed and broken open. Across the middle of the floor spilt with broken lies, people eyed each other warily, new to themselves, new to their possibly former adversaries. Women wondered: Will they get it? Will they accept our fierce gift? Men wondered whether this was it or whether the fall had just begun and whether the fall was endless, unceasing, unrelenting, the end of caring. Connection or terminus. First breath or last.

My course occurred in the middle between tales from the book of rage and the polishing machine. After the exquisite morning conversation I wondered off into my head during morning exercises where I found myself paralyzed and unable to simply describe Allyson and Dawn’s features to themselves. I had no words. I lacked a voice, and I was ashamed. I was stopped by something and refused to name it, muting myself. I withered and dried up, panicked.

Lunch with Vicki turned my course around. She met me exactly where I was. Then, she asked me to massage her feet giving me a pleasure I’d not had in a long time. And then, shock. She asked me if I wanted to kiss her. I did and she was straight and direct with her feedback about what she wanted, and I experienced a great kiss. And I was back, connected and present to my desire, back in the course. I got something for the first time.

This community was filled with women who were expert lovers; expressed, powerful, and with the ability to be straight about what they desired. I got that that was the intent of the community, but as a guy you never want to commit to such a belief. Disappointment is a bitter mint.

So the afternoon session started, and some more layers were laid bare. And some more layers were laid down during the men’s circle. Then, I remember nothing except two women and some exercises. I only vaguely remember some instructions about sculpture and no genders.

What I remember intensely was a very primal make-out with Kristin. I can’t describe it, but I recognize it. I was raw desire, and I consumed Kristin. No planning. No thought. Just a hmmmm welling up from within my soul, and Kristin took it and opened up for more. That woman is not a vessel for energy. She is a conduit and she can handle a lot more. In those moments when desire wrestled with itself and caught the two of us in its talons something primal got released. I found my sword, and it was once again good to be a man.

My experience of life, of myself, of desire had shifted profoundly. And I found that woman can be a partner again, and something was restored. Nicole Helfer was next. Hot kisses, delicious buns and a surprised look on her face. Life is suddenly, exceedingly good.

Next, the polishing. What I captured from the woman’s feedback were the following. I showed up as invisible. I don’t talk. I have this teddy bear thing going on top of raw sexuality. I occur as prone to diving into complex conversations. I’m too land marky. These are the pieces I trapped and could contain or recall. Thank you, women of OneTaste. You all held a space for us men and stood for us as partners and keep it fully human. So, I say: Bring it on. I am an ongoing request for polishing. Squirming is the least that I can do to honor who you are and what you are up to.

Two final notes. At night’s end I got your strokes, Nicole Dedawn and Beth. You both stir something very deep in me beyond genders. Thank you for holding the space, for truce and for truth. Hmm. Vicki, Kristin, Nicole Helfer  [makes guttural sound, then howls]

[applause]

Sam: Thank you so much. Wow. I feel that animal side of Alutha just bursting right out. So, Alutha really painted a picture there for us about what it’s like for a man to come into this community. It’s often asked: What would a man come into a community that is focused on opening women’s orgasm or where we start?

I think Alutha painted a really good picture of what’s there for a man, what’s there and why open up to that place. Why surrender those deepest, darkest places inside you to a person who just might kill you right where you stand? I think he said it really eloquently because there is no other way to live. Thank you.

Rich, our next reader. Please everyone, welcome Rich. [applause]

Rich: This is a poem called “Wet” by Kate. Languidly pummeting the moist curtain, he slides into the smooth vessel, the color of fire, pink velvet. His large hands securely wielding the creamy white handles, firmly manipulating them until just a trickle of foamy liquid flows forth. She faces him. Their eyes, reflecting pools of love, lock on each other. Embracing both with body and soul they melt together in the steamy atmosphere.

 Memories flood as her neck arches and wet kisses cover her throat. Teasing one another in the aquamarine Caribbean ocean, causing rough ripples to fan out across the water of the swimming pool as they played, discovering new things as soft summer rain, like the sound of a tinkling xylophone soaked them. Aromas of citrus colognes and faintly the sea drift and swirl around them. Skin drenched. Rivulets of salty sweat stream between them. Sauna heat builds as temperatures rise. Flesh moves with synchronized frantic fluidity.

A torrential river violently rushes into a cascading waterfall drowning in a frenzied pool gasping for air. Silent screams. Then, the peace of a tranquil crystal clear lake prevails and the relaxation of a hot spraying shower returns as she lovingly shampoos his hair.

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Sam: I want to thank everyone for joining us this evening. There’s some new folks out there who have come here. Please visit us. This is OneTaste – www.OneTasteSF.com. You can find us on the Web. You can find us in New York. You can find us on Folsom Street.

We have Erotic Open Mike every night. Thank you, Marcie, who usually leads tonight, for giving me the opportunity to host. You can also find us on Personal Life Media – www.PersonalLifeMedia.com.

Thank you so much. My name is Sam Gedal. I look forward to seeing you again.

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