Saturday, 10 November 2012

Tantra – the missing link


As I write this today, I have limited knowledge and even less experience of tantric sex, but I want to learn about this meditative form of copulation because something about it intuitively feels right.

I lost interest in banging, poking and prodding a long time ago. Rampant sex can be great and certainly has its place in my sexual history, but breathing in the scent of a man and exploring his body as the masterpiece that it is, holds a far higher curiosity for me. And instinctively I know tantra will open me up in ways I can’t even imagine at this point.

To paint a picture, let me share some intimate details with you: Will was the last guy I slept with. He’s a very buff fitness instructor who looks after his body and is hugely successful at what he does. His body is a masterpiece for sure. He’s mentally sharp and lots of fun to boot. Our first physical encounter involved him giving me a massage and pulling out all his best tricks (which were highly adept) in the desire to make me ‘come’.

I didn’t.

When I add up Will’s sex CV it looks good: everything’s in the right place, he says the right stuff (tells me I’m sexy and beautiful), and he certainly knows how to toss a good bean salad. Yet despite everything looking and sounding fantastic, I knew there was zippo chance of my floodgates bursting open. Why? Because Will hadn’t yet stolen my mind, so therefore he had no access to my feelings, my heart or my vagina.

And this is where, I feel, tantra comes in.

From the little I know about tantra, it seems to be the missing link between sex as a physical encounter (much like masturbating), and a true opening of the sacred sex organs; which I believe have the potential to instigate a prodigious opening of the heart and soul.

Surely, if we can tap into the very essence of our sexuality, therein lies a well of emotion and sensuality that isn’t possible to reach by holding on to your headboard while Mr X rogers you from behind?

Or maybe that’s just me?

Before I’d even read about tantric sex I sensed that I had a desire for something ‘more’ from my sexual experiences. I want to communicate with my eyes and body in ways that run deep. I want to tap into the core of my Goddess and experience the volcanic eruption of juice and passion that old-fashioned sex just can’t access. I’m not dissing a good old seeing to, but tantra is a form of sexual communication that makes so much sense to me.

I mean, why have just one chocolate when you can create a whole new box?

Tantric sex really works on a ‘less is more’ principle. Less grunting, more speaking with the eyes; less thrusting, more expanding; less speed, more desire. It’s a simple concept, but I suppose will only appeal to those who employ a similar philosophy to life. If you prefer ‘bigger and better’ then you probably seek the same in the bedroom. Get the porn on, pull off a few tricks and off to sleep you go. But what about finding a stillness that actually allows you to understand your body and enable it to explode into a technicolour sexual epic?

For me, I’m at the point when the tornado no longer fires me up, but far from wanting to take cover in a storm cellar, I’m ready to let my skirt fly over my head while I fly to a new world that’s most certainly over the rainbow.

And so it seems I have tantra on my mind. And with that thought, I gaily head out into the world seeking a male companion to share this new experience with. Whether the interaction becomes a lasting relationship is of little relevance at this stage. For now, it’s about tapping into my inner femininity in order to explore and expand a sensual consciousness that has lately become a driving force behind my every thought.

Until I find such a mate, however, here’s to deep-reaching sex that blows your mind and fulfils your body, heart and soul.