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Primal Rhythm
Primal Rhythm I find it interesting that sex requires motion by at least one body. Some element of change is inherent in the process. Typically this change has a repetitive quality; a primal rhythm or beat. Tongue lapping at the quivering clit, head bobbing gently as the mouth sucks the swollen cock, breasts bouncing like jello as the erect penis thrusts repeatedly into the warm, moist vagina or anus. Drumming, dancing, the beating of a heart, the panting labor of ecstasy. The hotter the fuck, the more unconscious all this rhythm becomes. Though the participants become lost in seizures of pure pleasure and fantasy, the rhythm is nonetheless there. Pulsating patterns of pressure on the most delicate and sensitive body parts; friction, resistance, leading to waves of muscular contractions that ought to hurt like hell but which ‒ due natural selection’s tricky neural wiring ‒ becomes a joyful madness. Sex is an echo emanating from the very core of Being. Existence itself is an interplay of static and dynamic elements; the changeless and the forever changing. Sex is a sort of cosmic role-play. A ritual re-enactment of the original intercourse between Yin and Yang, the Goddess and the God, the immovable object and the irresistible force. Each individual performance is different, and yet the same. Sex, in all its crazy varieties, is proof that the universe likes to play with itself. Collectively we are the right hand of God. No wonder He/She loves us. We are the gift that keeps on giving. copyright Gaylenwoof 2005 |
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3/5/2020 11:33 am |
This post has the beautiful ring of fundamental truth in it!
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