Making love last a lifetime

In my writing ‘play’ shop (Writing as Your Sexual self – you can access it here) I shared a prompt: “write a love-lust letter, either to yourself, or someone else.” Here’s what I wrote in response to that prompt.

You can watch and listen to me read it, or read the full letter underneath the video.

I want to feel you stroke my face. I want the pads of your fingers to disturb the fine hairs on my cheeks and jaw. I want you to trace the outline of my bones beneath my flesh. I want you to pause at my lips: a silent question asking if you can touch me there.

I’ll give the slightest of nods, turning my head just a little to place my lips underneath your touch. Yes, I want you.

I want slow, gentle, reverential. I want the absolute intimacy of sensitive fingertips caressing equally sensitive lips.

I’ll close my eyes and there will be nothing more to this world than you and me. Us. This. Now.

I want your palm to cup my jaw, my head to rest upon your hand. Just hold me like this. And let me know I am safe.

Then, when the moment is right, bring your lips to mine and let me explore you with my tongue. Tasting you. Drinking in the essence of you. Swallowing your saliva and inhaling your breath.

Slowly, slowly, my love. We have all the time in the world: we are the world.

After the kiss, our bodies will be singing harmonies to each other. Each resonating the notes of our unique, vibrating, needs. I’ll sing yours back to you: I hear you; I hear your hungers.

My touch on your skin – starting with your hands – will be almost too much. Just that – just my hand on yours, my thumb rubbing over and around your knuckles. Now I feel for the hard outline of your bones, and the soft spaces in between.

You’ll offer your body to me. Naked. And I will touch you with all of my senses. My nostrils filling with the scent of you. My eyes wide, in awe of your beauty. Hesitant only because I have to choose where to explore first – and I want to know the whole of you.

The shapes and textures that form the body of you. The sounds you share when my touch surprises you, or answers an unspoken plea. The way your body moves into my touch as though drawn by magnets or, at least, the magnetism of corresponding desire.

There will come a moment when my fingers are called to go deeper. When I will have explored all of your outside and now I want to go in.

I’ll be gentle; you’ll be ready. Eager.

How will we manage the urgency? Which of us will show restraint and slow the other down? Slowly, slowly, my love, I don’t want to miss a moment.

I’m going to be here when you come. When you let go. When everything is released and you tremble and twitch in slow motion – because we have slowed down time.

We will have all the time in the world.

We can go back to the start and begin over and over again.

Eternally.

Making love last a lifetime.

Playtime! Would you like to write as your erotic self?

I had such fun with this! As the grand finale of the #UnboundBookClub event for Desire Lines, I delivered a one-hour playshop on writing as your sexual self.

Join me as I share:

  • How and why I started writing erotica.
  • My 3 top tips for writing as your sexual self.
  • 3 writing prompts and writing time during the session to play with your erotic imagination and start writing.

Feedback after the event:

“Fantastic! I had no idea whether I could write erotically – turns out I can – wonderful!!!”

“This was amazing Anna! It’s re-awakened something in me. Very grateful.”

Wine, nibbles, and an erotic book club

One of my favourite people in the whole world to talk with about desire – and Desire Lines – is Nicola Humber (author, mentor, publisher and UNBOUND woman).

We recently chatted as part of the Desire Lines #UnboundBookClub…

In this video we talk about:

  • The power of community – knowing we are not alone and finding kindred spirits to talk and share with.
  • How online spaces can make talking about taboos easier. And my dream of having an in-person book club, complete with wine and nibbles (or tea and cake), and freedom to talk about our desires!
  • The “wet test” and how to use this to inform and guide our writing and our lives.
  • How to take part in a free erotic writing event.

Have you got your free guide to writing erotica? Just sign up below and you’ll get regular letters from me too.

I want to be Elemental

I wrote this in response to my journey to meet my sexual self.

To meet your sexual self, click here…

I want to be naked in the elements.

I want to feel my breasts floating free in the sea. The salty water ruffling my pubic hair. My feet and toes tickled by seaweed strands.

I want to feel the rain running rivulets all down my body. Drenching my hair, dripping off my eyelashes. Unhindered streams flowing over my contours.

I want to roll on the earth and be patterned with leaves and dirt. I want the graze of grit as I stretch out along the ground. I want to take on the colours of a forest floor.

I want the fierce gales to push my body this way and that. I want to feel buffeted and at the mercy of the wind’s whims.

I want to feel the heat from a fire. Getting so close I begin to glow. Drinking it in. Reddening me. Seducing me.

I am made of the elements – they make me what I am. I want to go back to those places.

Be elemental.

What do you want? Tell me…

Your sexual self is waiting to meet you

How well do you know your unique sexual self?

Would you like to get to know more about this aspect of you?

How about going on a guided journey to meet your sexual self and to find out what this part of you wants you to know?

If you are curious, I’ve recorded a guided meditation for you.

The meditation is 23 minutes long.

I hope you enjoy it.

Here’s what I found out about my sexual self when I did this meditation...

(click to read)

Looking after your wellbeing: is your sexuality the missing link?

It gives me great pleasure to share the Intimate Conversation that I had with Jennie Verleg!

Jennie runs Hand-on Mindfulness workshops and describes her work as “art meets neuroscience.”

We discovered we have a mutual interest in the role of sexuality in wellbeing. And we were both super excited to have a chat about how sensuality, self-pleasuring and sexual experiences can help us look after our emotional and physical health and wellbeing.

[note: Jennie’s microphone was a bit quiet at the start of the video but you can hear her loud and clear once we get to 3 minutes]

Watch the video to hear more about:

  • Jennie’s journey from being paralysed in bed with Guillain-Barré syndrome to using art and mindfulness as a way to regain her wellbeing.
  • Why we’re both passionate about exploring sensuality and sexuality as a path to wellbeing.
  • Why we should normalise self-pleasure and make it an equally valid choice as attending an art class or taking a moment to meditate on the loo!
  • The science of pleasure and wellbeing – why it’s good for us and why it matters.
  • Why we are both on a mission to create more opportunities to explore sensuality and sexuality as a missing link in the wellbeing field.

You can find Jennie Verleg on LinkedIn here.

Would you like to add your voice to our conversations?

Click here to send me a private message and share your thoughts and questions.

Please sign up to the newsletter to get me direct in your inbox…

The first step on your journey with desire

Your body belongs to you.

Your emotions belong to you.

Your sexuality belongs to you.

And you get to choose who you want to share any (or all, or none) of these aspects of yourself with.

You get to choose to explore and enjoy your sexuality, on your own terms, regardless of what anyone else might expect, demand, or presume of you.

You are allowed to explore, evolve, express, and enjoy your sexual self – if you choose.

The only permission you need is from yourself.

This is a fundamental aspect of being a desire line walker.

We do not need to be a reflection of what – or who – other people expect us to be; we can each radiate who we truly are.

As we begin the Desire Lines Book Club this lunar month (16 October 2020), step 1 is allowing yourself to explore your sexual self.

This is how you begin your journey with desire.

Please follow me on Facebook or Instagram and use #UnboundBookClub to join in!

Are you in the mood?

Think back for a moment to a time when you felt horny…

Maybe you’d been reading or watching something erotic? Maybe someone had touched you (consensually) in a seductive way? Maybe you were going about your day-to-day business and suddenly became aware of a ‘tingle in your pants’ that reminded you that your body wanted some pleasure?

(Or maybe you’re finding it really hard right now to recall a time in recent memory when you felt that way?)

Horny’ might not be the word you would tend to use to describe how you feel (maybe you talk about being ‘in the mood’ or ‘hungry’ or something else) but it is a word that most adults can understand the meaning of. It’s part of our common language. And that’s why those feelings can be (fairly) easy to write about in erotica.

Equally, if I talk about ‘libido’ – although it can sound more formal and clinical than horny – you probably recognise that as relating to the urge or desire to have sex/sexual contact. Horny is playful. But we generally hear about libido in the context of it going missing, or being mismatched with a partner’s. Consequently, it’s often thought of as being unreliable or somehow problematic.

But did you know that feeling horny and having an active libido are only part of the picture when it comes to sexual desire?

They are the obvious, blatant aspects of something that goes way deeper and is way more elaborate and captivating than whether you’re ready to ‘get it on’ or not.

What happens if we talk about ‘sexual energy’ instead?

In some settings the term ‘sexual energy’ is bandied about freely, everyone nods in understanding: they know what it is, how to access it and what to do with it once they’ve tuned in to it.

I’ve been in those settings: usually facilitated groups and workshops where people have come together to explore ‘conscious sexuality’ – literally bringing their sexuality more into their conscious awareness rather than it being something that rumbles along in the background, with occasional spikes and peaks when they are in an actual sexual situation.

I’ve also worked with sexual energy in a one-to-one therapeutic environment. Using my sexual energy as a barometer to help me work intuitively with people who – for whatever reason – find it difficult to relax into and enjoy their sexuality.

But I’m very aware that reading the term ‘sexual energy’ as words on a screen doesn’t really mean anything unless you’ve had an embodied experience of it.

Feeling horny is one way we can feel our sexual energy in our body but there are many other ways too.

How to feel your sexual energy…

Imagine for a moment that you are just a body – just a physical object that can move around, can perform tasks, but doesn’t have any personality.

Now imagine adding into that body the bit that makes you uniquely you. It’s the bit that means you have preferences (chocolate ice cream or vanilla?). It’s the bit that makes you feel emotions (loving the ice cream or hating it?). And it’s the bit that compels you to do things purely for enjoyment, connection, and self-expression.

This is your life force energy. It’s what animates us. It’s what gives us a feeling of vitality and aliveness.

It’s my belief that this life force energy is essentially creative energy: we co-create our lives, with each person’s story having subtle and profound differences to the next.

This creative energy is also sexual energy: not just about creating ‘new life’ in the form of reproduction, but also creating sexual heat, pleasure, intimacy, and connection.

Creative energy and sexual energy co-exist in a virtuous cycle: our creative energy feeds into our sexual energy which feeds into our creative energy…and so on.

Which means: we can use our creative energy to tap into our sexual energy and vice versa.

Which also means: writing (creating) erotic stories is one way to play with our sexual energy.

Dancing (creating movements to music) is another way.

Visualising (creating pictures in our mind’s eye) is another way.

Playing dress-up (creating alter-egos and role play) is another way.

All ways that don’t require physical sexual contact with another person, matching libidos, or even the ‘tingle in your pants’ horny feeling.

And those are only a few examples.

Which is why I talk about sexual energy as being something expansive and accessible to each of us regardless of our relationship situation or where our libido is at.

I don’t know about you but, to me, that feels incredibly freeing and exciting. It gives me a sense of ownership of my sexual energy. It feels empowering. And it feels like something I want to explore and enjoy more.

How about you? 

Stay tuned for more creative sexuality opportunities coming soon!

Please sign up to hear more…(and get a Free Erotic Writing Guidebook!)

The kink, the woo, and the capsule wardrobe – an Intimate Conversation with Rebecca

I am absolutely thrilled to share my latest Intimate Conversation with you!

Rebecca is a friend I met through attending conscious sexuality events. Once identifying as bisexual, bicultural, and bilingual, she now calls herself a location-independent, lesbian, linguist.

In this intimate conversation, she generously shares some of her journey with desire and offers practical, real-life advice for anyone curious about exploring theirs.

Listen in as we talk about:

  • what intimacy is
  • playing with evolving and changing desire
  • kink and conscious sexuality: how to find places and people to play with (and what to do when you get there)
  • how to integrate sex and spirituality
  • feeling vulnerable
  • the sweet spot where being open and being discerning meet
  • and more!

Find Rebecca on social media: @SkorpionUK

Looking for more? Here’s an Intimate Conversation I had with Sue Sutherland of the Feel Institute.

Would you like me in your inbox? Please sign up to stay connected…

Shapeshifting through change

The last time I wrote about Shapeshifting, I was writing about my explorations and experiences of softening the edges of gender in my book Desire Lines:

“I don’t feel like a woman any more.  As a woman, there are constraints and expectations placed upon me: don’t take up too much space; don’t make too much noise; be aware of others around you (for your own safety and also in case you need to be of assistance to them). I can sense movement all around me but it has nothing to do with me. All I need to attend to is myself and the new shape I am becoming.”

This time I’m exploring a different kind of shapeshifting.

The sexual self I was no longer fits me. Like a snake outgrowing its skin, I need to shed the familiar in order to be clothed in the new. I feel more like a crab than a snake though. I feel vulnerable and soft as I step out of my shell. I’ve been wearing it for so many years – what will I find underneath?

My previous, gender-themed, shapeshifting explorations were facilitated by workshop leaders at conscious sexuality events.

The shapeshifting I’m experiencing now has a different catalyst: it’s known as ‘the change’ for a reason.

At 47 years old I’m somewhere in my perimenopausal journey. I don’t know if I’m still at the beginning, if I’ve made it to the middle, or if I’m nearing the end. All I know is that changes are happening that are beyond my control. Physical changes as my once predictable cycle stutters and storms. And emotional changes: I’m more anxious, I cry more readily, and I experience every feeling magnified by at least 10x.

And there are changes to my sexual self too. How could there not be given what’s happening in my body and soul?

I swing dramatically between ravenous hunger – almost to the point of pain – for intimate sexual touch, and thirsting only for gentle affection – to be held, for a space in someone’s arms that I can retreat into.

My desire for kink fluctuates more wildly than I have ever known: I alternately crave it and recoil from it.

It feels like it would be too easy to pack my sexuality away in a box labeled “attic”. If I did, perhaps I’d unpack it again sometime, happy to see it and clothe myself in it once more, like a once-loved party frock. But what if I forgot about it and the box stayed sealed up and dusty, any remnants of my sexual self eventually fraying and perishing over time?

Even in the midst of the perimenopause, even in the midst of a pandemic, I can’t (and won’t) let my sexuality wither.

I’ve been deliberately looking for ways to stay connected to my sexual self and to make space for the new version of it that is emerging.

I’ve started looking at old photos: searching for who I was before I began to shed this skin. They help me to appreciate and understand other changes my sexual self has been through – and survived. Physical changes as my body gained and lost weight, got sick, had surgery. Emotional changes as relationships ended and began. The times when I felt wild and adventurous. And those when circumstances dictated I was solid and stable.

I’ve also started having conversations with others about all different aspects of living as sexual beings. These Intimate Conversations light me up, remind me – again – of who I was, who I am, and who I might be yet to become.

And I’ve given myself permission to write again. Sometimes just for me and my journal, sometimes a heart-exposing letter to a loved one, and sometimes here – offering my softshell skin to others as a way to be witnessed and to share that none of us need to go through this alone.

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