Bacchus
Pleasure's as much an instinct as any of them, I think. Maybe it's not ultimately necessary to live, but then again maybe that depends on what your definition of necessary is.
I'm a fan. A fine cigar, a glass of good wine or the kind of scotch that costs a week's salary. The fit of a tailored suit, the feel of Egyptian cotton against bare skin. The smooth sound of Basie filtering through speakers, contrasted with the rough of bare feet as they skim over a hardwood floor. The way he feels in my arms, on those rare occasions I get him to dance with me.
The way he fits in my hand, or my mouth. Against me, period.
Pleasure.
We're made to feel ashamed for enjoying as much as we do, for acknowledging our baser hedonistic tendencies but what else is so fundamentally a part of the human condition? I don't think you find a balance for them until you fully embrace him.
I love sex. Always have. It's never been a particularly emotional act for me. Perhaps that's not the right phrase. Maybe it's never been deeply emotional. I've always seen it for what it is. Physical release, another means to pleasure.
He watches me, sometimes, finds my eyes and holds them as we move and all of a sudden I'm someplace else and there's more than the slap of bodies, some other layer there I hadn't realized existed.
I'm surprised by how much I enjoy it. The pleasure it brings.
I'm a fan. A fine cigar, a glass of good wine or the kind of scotch that costs a week's salary. The fit of a tailored suit, the feel of Egyptian cotton against bare skin. The smooth sound of Basie filtering through speakers, contrasted with the rough of bare feet as they skim over a hardwood floor. The way he feels in my arms, on those rare occasions I get him to dance with me.
The way he fits in my hand, or my mouth. Against me, period.
Pleasure.
We're made to feel ashamed for enjoying as much as we do, for acknowledging our baser hedonistic tendencies but what else is so fundamentally a part of the human condition? I don't think you find a balance for them until you fully embrace him.
I love sex. Always have. It's never been a particularly emotional act for me. Perhaps that's not the right phrase. Maybe it's never been deeply emotional. I've always seen it for what it is. Physical release, another means to pleasure.
He watches me, sometimes, finds my eyes and holds them as we move and all of a sudden I'm someplace else and there's more than the slap of bodies, some other layer there I hadn't realized existed.
I'm surprised by how much I enjoy it. The pleasure it brings.