Awakening

I awakened to the strong pull of a mouth on my nipple. To whiskers brushing the mound of my breast. To the sound of myself purring. And gasping. Gritty eyes opening to grainy morning light streaming over my lover's shoulders. They gleam, muscles rippling as his mouth dips, teeth nip. Another gasp. Once fuzzy, my mind is sharpened by pain. Here are my hands, here is how they work as my fingers tangle in his hair, forcing his face into my other breast, pebbled and pointed and aching. My nipple is a straw and with it he draws forth juices from my core. My voice, whispery and hoarse, begs for him to fill me, to stop the teasing and give me a new reason to ache. And so he does, filling me again and again until I cannot breathe, until I am writhing out from under him and leaning over the side of the bed, gasping for air. He takes me there, from behind, pressing himself into me, whiskers brushing my shoulders. Fingers gripping the headboard, my leg curled behind his thigh, panting. Panting out the rhythm of his thrusts, panting after our climax spins me to a giddy pinnacle and I fall, twitching, into a pool of slumber.

Move accomplished

So here I am, sitting amidst a sea of boxes, most of them books. I am exhausted. My back and knees ask me why I've chosen to live in a townhouse where the bedroom is on the third level. There is no such thing as ranch-style houses in San Francisco, I tell them. It does not stop their complaining. Today my body feels every one of its 40 years. But for all that, my spirits are good. I left California 22 years ago and swore that I would not come back to live, yet here I am. Here I am. My friends and family here are thrilled. I spent the night snuggled up to my lover, and will spend the next several there, seeing as it will probably be a few more days before I get my bed set up. Mmmm. Thoughts of my bed have my back and knees telling me that they will stop complaining as soon as they get a good night's sleep on my tempurpedic mattress.

It will take some time to settle in, to find the rhythm of my life, and from there, to begin creating again. I look forward to writing and recording. I will try to put this down-time to good use as far as taking care of myself and putting out some more of my work goes.

Gratitude

(Thank you PS for the gift of your breast.)

Tears blur my vision, dripping onto the keyboard. My heart is filled with Gratitude. So much Gratitude for so much Love in my life.

Two years ago I created for myself the possibility of being fully self-expressed. And as I manifested that in my life, I found myself struggling with freedom, with feeling truly free to be myself, to be whatever I wanted to be. And then something happened. I had a breakthrough in 'being' and found that I was free to fully express myself as Love. Mahatma Gandhi once said, "be the change you want to see in the world." And this freedom to be the change I want to see in the world, to Be Love, has enriched my life and the lives of those I touch, and the lives they touch. It is a wonderful thing, to know love and to be love, and to feel its presence in my life when it comes back to me, manifold.

In my heart there is sadness and longing and anticipation and joy and... so many things simple and complex. But gratitude and love are foremost. It seems that every day I've been in Portland this year, an extraordinary person has come into my life. And there has been such a sense of urgency to bond with these people, to make that connection that will withstand distance. I'm trying not to mourn the loss of easy access to my friends new and old. At times I am more successful than others, but I am comforted by experience: I know I can maintain deep and meaningful relationships over long distances. And I do plan to come back to Portland often. The sense of community here is so amazing. There is so much going on, so many people committed to doing good things, great things. People committed to helping others and growing and being and sharing and co-creating a livable world.

The pain and loss this year have broken me open in a way that I always feared. These feelings are at times so intense that I find myself unable to breathe, unable to stop the tears. This is what love feels like--the other side we don't want to think about--the side that keeps many of us from being open to love, and to Life. Everything superfluous and unreal, every barrier and mask and inauthenticity was burned away from me and I am standing naked to the world, exposed, pink and new and vulnerable and terrified and people have responded with unanticipated love and tenderness and kindness. Who knew there was so much lovingkindness in the world?

It has been a whirlwind week. Work during the days, play during the evenings, repeat as necessary to satisfy myself and my friends. I have hugged, kissed, nuzzled, danced, wined and dined, tried butter shots, licked chocolate off of body parts, slept snuggled up to a wonderfully curvacious bottom, wandered the halls of a hotel during Orycon in my pajamas, enjoyed an impromptu cleavage convention, watched lap dances, fire dances, and asses dancing under floggers. And that's just the PG to R-rated stuff ;)

And as it hits home that I am leaving this wonderfully expressive, connected, touch-positive community this week, I know gratitude, and love, and grief. But my world is not ending. I am embracing what life brings next, and I will carry this community in my heart and mind, and I will create it anywhere I go, because I am Love.

Kahlil Gibran wrote:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your
understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the
sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life,
your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always
accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Winter is coming, and soon the Spring. I will sow the seeds of a new life in a new place and find joy in discovering what grows out of my efforts. Thank you, my friends, for letting me love you. And thank you, so very much, for returning it ten-fold and more. Truly, I am blessed.

Certainty Is....

Certainty is an illusion. So is control.

Life happens, and it just so happens that life is taking me where I was certain I would never go again: home.

In leaving my life in Portland, I leave behind partners who have sat at the banquet of sensuality with me. Some see this as an ending. Some see this as a hiatus. Some see this as a reason to work harder to keep in touch. Some see this as a source of regret. Some see this as a reason to cling. Some see this as an opportunity -- my partner in California, for one. I am looking forward to seeing him more frequently, and to sharing more of myself and my life with him. I'm uncertain about what will happen next, and I am ok with that. If there is one thing I have learned this year, it is that there is nothing I cannot handle with a little help from my loved ones. I can choose for myself a specific destination in life, and I while I have control over myself and the work I do to achieve my goals, I am achingly aware that I have no control over the curves life throws at me, or over others. Life is uncertain, control is an illusion, and I -- I am adaptable. Besides, its not the destination that matters (which, ultimately, is the certainty of death) -- its what I get up to along the way.

The Luxury of Time

So last weekend was a long weekend spent at the Oregon Coast. A friend was celebrating her 40th birthday and rented this gorgeous villa overlooking a huge stretch of beach. I somehow lucked out in that I arrived before her family-contingent left and the friends-contingent joined us, so not only got to meet her family, but I got her mostly to myself for part of an evening and a day. She's a wonderful woman and I'm sad that I'm moving away just when I was looking forward to getting to know her well.

We talked about polyamory, and how she was doing in a relationship of hers. I made some recommendations based on experience and observation, mostly based on communicating clearly about her wants and needs, and giving her partner(s) the opportunity to decide for themselves what it is that they can and cannot do. From there, it is a lot easier to work out a future that has minimal angst.

The next morning was spent curled up on a loveseat looking at the ocean, reading, and chatting, and trying to recover from a sniffly cold. Early in the afternoon we went on a quest for live crab -- and found them! We brought 5 back and I boiled them up. Yum! By the time we got back with the crab, pretty much everyone was there -- a dozen of us, all interesting people connected to her in a variety of ways.

One of the guests is an excellent chef, and he created a salad to die for. We sat around and ate and drank copious amounts of wine and champagne. Then we soaked in the hot tub. Then we danced. Then the warm oil and the massage table came out. Then we rubbed. Yes... it was a delicious weekend in many ways.

Sunday I went back to Portland for a snuggle party I was facilitating. I'd say that 30 people showed up, and so many of them came to wish me well in my move down to California, that my heart was full of love and sadness. I was on the verge of tears for much of the night, and that is ok. I had the luxury of spending time snuggled up with a couple dozen people, and there is not much in life that beats that.

Life goes forward. My heart beats out the seconds between now and the end of my days, whenever that is. I nearly died this year--I know what a luxury the concept of 'spending time' is. There is no better time to do what I want than now. Right Now. Because tomorrow will come, but it may not come for me. Living for tomorrow is not a thing I can do anymore. Life is meant to be lived fully and powerfully, each and every moment.

God I love my life!

Attention Please I (erotic audio preview)

It is my intention to give voice to the sensual immediacy of life. I consider myself a thoughtful, provocative, and creative writer and narrator of erotic stories.

Today I am sharing a preview of my erotic audio story "Attention Please I". The complete text of this highly-rated story is available at Literotica.com

Summary:
This is the first of a two-part tale about the consequences to one woman for her attention-seeking behavior. This woman wants her lover's attention now--even though he is on the phone. He's made it clear that he doesn't want to be disturbed, so she sits on the edge of his desk and teases him by masturbating herself. When he finishes his call, he gives her what she so richly deserves--bent over his desk. Attention Please I has a short, but well-described build up, a very hot seduction, and a steamy finale.
This is a story that men, women, and couples will enjoy. For adult listeners only.
Length (11:56)

If you like what you hear, you can purchase the full version for $3.00 at Lulu.com or at Payloadz.com


via Paypal.

Podcast Banned from iTunes?

Interesting. I checked my mail today and found the following email from iTunesabuse@apple.com

Dear Podcast Owner

The following podcast has not been included in the iTunes podcast directory.

Name: Silkenvoice Podcast
Feed URL: http://silkenvoice.mypodcast.com/rss.xml

Submissions may not be included in the directory for a variety of reasons. For more information, please see the podcast technical specification at http://www.apple.com/itunes/podcasts/techspecs.html.


Sincerely,

The iTunes Store Team

Very odd. I've done some reading and I expect it is because of sexual content, but I'm really not that explicit in my podcasts. There does not seem to be a lot out there regarding getting a feed re-instated or re-submitted. I've tried to submit it again and I get: podcast has already been submitted. Anyone out there know how to get ahold of Apple to appeal, or how to get this fixed?

Silken.

Missing breakfast

[Listen to the podcast here]

I awakened missing his scent filling my nose, missing the feel of his skin under my fingertips. I miss the sounds he makes and the way his body moves under my hands. I love the way he softens when he's been with me a while, the way the social armour starts showing more and more gaps until eventually he sheds it and the only thing standing between us is our skin. I love the way he is a sponge, soaking up the love that radiates from me, from every pore, and that leaks from me, sometimes in the form of tears, but more often as wetness. My love is warm and slippery, and when he is near it escapes me. When he is near I feel myself swelling like a ripe fruit whose skin can no longer contain its juices. I want him to put his mouth to those places where my skin is split and leaking, and suck me dry. In my dreams he bites into me like I am a piece of fruit and I squirt, my juices filling his mouth and drenching his face. I miss the love we share between us, the love that grows and glows and makes me ache so sweetly, makes me ache the way my mouth does before that first taste of him in the morning, breaking my fast.

[Edit: I uploaded the audio for this and fixed the RSS feed for the podcast]

Playing tour guide

I have been a good hostess, I think. Its been a few years since my friend was in the States, and last time all he wanted to do was fish. This time it was too late in the season, so I entertained him by playing tour guide. This weekend we went to McMenamin's Edgefield, had their microbrew brown ale and played four games of pool (he won three). In between rain showers we visited the Chinese Garden, drove through the countryside and enjoyed all the foliage changing, did some wine tasting at Willamette Valley Vineyards, and drove along Skyline Boulevard and the Hoyt Arboretum in downtown Portland. He enjoyed the dim sum, much to my surprise. He made short work of the chicken feet, which were very savory with ginger. Sushi at Saburos, after an hour wait, which he grumbled about until he saw what the sushi looked like, and then he settled down to eating. After sushi we went to a 'gentlemans club' to watch the girls dance. It was quite fun--especially the part where a birthday girl got a lap dance from three woman at the same time. He is good company and he makes me laugh, but it will be good to get back into my groove. I've got three weeks before I leave Portland, and a lot to do in the meantime. Some how I've got to fit in sorting and packing and paring things down between my desire to see as many of my friends before I leave. So much to do, including getting him to the airport tomorow!