I just Goddess-f*$#*’d my husband (Guest Post)

Ever wondered why I started my journey into tantra and sacred sexuality ?  It’s because after I had done a lot of work on healing myself and re-awakening my body (not just my pussy – all of my body) .. I have experienced this cosmically orgasmic experience with the same man three separate times.  (Unfortunately, due to life it isn’t every time – we’re both a work in progress.)

Never in my life previously had I experienced anything close!  Thus the reason I offer tantric massage for men, women and couples so as THEY can start on the journey I started .. and eventually with whomever can experience the same.


Author: Tressa Yonekawa Bundren  { source }

This is important, women. This is here if you want to understand more about your power in sex and sensuality.

I just allowed myself to have the best sex of my life. I am infinitely lucky and grateful to be partnered with a man who is an ever-evolving amazing lover. This is a reciprocal, ever-reflective process, and sometimes it just works out luckily, haphazardly and drunk with lust.

Today was a combination of all of those things.

One reason he’s an amazing lover is that he is invested in my pleasure, and he responds to my desire with receiving and reflecting and offering of his own desire. He wants me to feel good while he’s feeling good.

Men, did you catch that? It’s not really about the size of your penis or how hard and deep you can penetrate me. It’s about how you handle desire.

Feel me on this.

How many times have you had sex with a partner and you were just basically participating so someone didn’t feel bad or because you just needed to orgasm or because it felt like you were expected to, etc.? The list of reasons why we “kind of participate” in sex is pretty long. We all have our own reasons. We’ve all done it.

But what if

What if we could be deeply present? Deeply feeling? Deeply connected? What would sex be like if we regularly engaged ourselves and each other in the kind of sex that’s completely worth getting dirty for, being late for, flinching pleasantly as we sit down when we feel that perfect soreness of being well-nibbled, fucked and/or spanked?

It kind of makes me hot to think about it. You know, those times when everything just clicks?

I know the secret to bringing that to the table (park bench, bed or backseat) every time.

Want to know how to fuck like a Goddess?

Let’s make a deal. I’ll share this with you, and you promise yourself and me that you’ll try it. Just try it. Deal? I trust both of us to want better relationships and better sex for ourselves.

Here it is.

Show up.  Show up. Show up.  

We built a temple: Temple Apalala. From the first discussion about what we wanted, we knew it would be a space to honor intimacy and music. It’s a space where no shoes are allowed. The sign in the entryway on the shoe rack reads:

“Leave your stories, excuses and fears outside. Leave your shoes here. Enter in your wholeness. Welcome in.”  

The same is true in sex, only… you can leave your shoes on if they’re fabulous, of course.

Now, this is just a part of how we show up for each other. We remember to leave our shit outside. We can always pick it up later if we want it. The bonus here is it has always been, and will always be, your personal choice to carry your stories, excuses and fears… or not. You choose a thousand times a day. Keep choosing the highest good.

This is where my request of you to show up really gets juicy and makes us squirm.

Can you show up, just for sex, just this once (you promised that you’d try it… just saying) and make the choice to leave out your anger, frustration, your partner’s bad habits, and that time your mom told you something ego-based and not true about yourself but you believed it?

Because if you can, even for a few minutes, then you are showing up for yourself and your partner. You are opening up to Goddess-intimacy, and believe me, Goddess, you deserve this entirely.

Thank you for practicing being whole, vibrant, powerful, sensual and compassionate.

Welcome in.

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