Fate & The Soft Penis
I laid there as she held my penis. It was soft and my body surrendered and opened to her touch. It felt as if there was a deep spaciousness throughout my whole body. My back dropped deeper into the floor below.
Yet as I relaxed into the pleasure I began to notice another part of me which was unnerved. It was a familiar niggling feeling that felt like it was often in the background but rarely noticed. She was massaging me and a part of me couldn’t fully relax because of this idea... well I am not sure it is an idea, more like an ingrained train track that suddenly became audible.
I couldn’t relax because a part of me thought I had to do something. I had to ‘give back.’ That’s what sexuality is about, isn’t it? “God” I thought to myself, this thought has been running in my undercurrent for eons and now I am finally seeing it.
The truth was Vic did not want anything from me. As she held me and loved me, it was just pure devotion and offering. She didn’t need me to moan, reciprocate or even speak. The way she was being with me was love itself and yet we hardly knew each other.
I knew that moment though that I was not sure I had ever been touched, or allowed myself to be touched in that way. Some old armour was falling away as I was letting her into my body.
We were at a sexuality retreat and most people had gone to sleep while the two of us laid outside on a couple of yoga mats. We were talking about all the things we loved talking about and at some stage she began stroking me.
Maybe I was cheeky and moved her hand towards my pelvis while we chatted, and maybe it was her that was cheeky. I smile again writing this. There was a lot of joy between us back then - and who could have known how these handfuls of small moments would affect our life years later. The empires that we were about to build had ‘soft’ beginnings :)
She was so tentative every now and again she would pause, invite me to breath, and sometimes whisper ‘did you feel that?” More blood just flowed through.” It wasn’t sex. It was intimacy. It was love. It was devotion - and it didn’t have to look like anything but this present moment. To continually keep meeting in this present moment. That is where our life grew out of.
In Indian classical music, which is often played for hours in an improvised manner - the beginning section is called the Alapa. It is a very slow and gradual building into what will become an amazing symphony that colours the space with the intoxication of musical mastery.
Our Alapa, just like the ragas of India happened very slowly, it took years to develop and bud before we really began to lean towards one another. It was unlikely yet also obvious. It’s like the buds of our hearts were growing up and then leaning in towards each other. They, like all hearts, knew something that we didn’t and we were left to be amazed at the way life closed in and opened for us. One could only smile.
To quote Gregory David Roberts, the author of Shantram… “If fate doesn’t make you laugh,.. You don’t get the joke.” Oh boy there has been lots of laughter.
Written by Miroslav Petrovic
