The Making of an Erotic Massage Therapist Pt 8
There’s something interesting that happens from time to time, with women more than men.
A woman will come and talk about healing because her body isn’t very sensitive, she doesn’t get very aroused from being touched and she’d like to change that. This will even extend into not having orgasms, and that’s its own healing journey.
When we start doing some massage, and I start this really slowly, the first touch sessions will usually be the sacrum and spine, no more than that. When we start doing this her response, physical response is often very surprising for her. She does feel, she is sensitive, energy moves in her body, the sensation spreads. And as we talk about it, after the massage experience, because if you’re talking during the massage you’re in your head rather than in your body, what often comes out is the way that her partner touches her doesn’t give her anywhere near the same feeling.
It’s so important learning to touch, it can make such a difference to your relationship, to your intimacy and pleasure. It’s a communication way beyond words, and over time becomes such an important tool of eroticism and connection.
Over time there have been women, married and in relationships, that regularly for erotic massage. Their partner’s know about it, it happens with their consent. Most of these have good relationships and good sexual relationships. What they’ve realized is that when a woman has a deep energy experience, when her erotic energy is acknowledged, expanded, spread through her body, when she is able to receive that, so much in her life changes. One woman said something that was echoed by many others, ‘When I have this deep experience I’m a much nicer person, I’m more relaxed, I’m easier to be with, I’m less stressed, I laugh more, and I enjoy sex with my husband much more, even want sex more’.
There’s an understanding in this that pleasure is so much more than being about orgasm, that there are so many ways for the erotic to be expressed. And in these relationships they’ve found a way to experience that.
When we allow ourselves, when we give ourselves the gift of our erotic energy, it has deep impact on so many aspects of our lives, and our health. And when you’re not in a relationship it becomes a beautiful way of expressing and keeping your erotic and sensual fire burning.
The piece below this was written as fiction, but it’s based on real experiences, and will give you some beautiful understanding of how to touch a woman.
‘We’d been eating on the patio, an early supper tonight. The sun was just setting in a clear sky that slowly darkened. Shades of blue that gradually changed to night in an almost imperceptible spectrum. As the light became the dark the birds became still. The slight breeze fell to nothing. The ocean was flat and silent. The air became a fabric surrounding us.
There are many ways of touching a woman, she said softly in the quiet.
There is the gentle breeze, cooling your skin and carrying the scent of the frangipani through the air. And there is the tornado, tumbling you through the air with nothing to hold onto.
There is the earth that supports your steps and guides you. And there is the ground beneath your feet shaking to crack open and engulf you.
There is the warm sun on your skin, giving comfort and a smile. And there is the fire that burns you to the core.
There is the trickling stream, clear and cool and refreshing. And there are the thundering rain waves that spin you into the dark and turbulent depths.
There is a time for all these.
They all have a purpose.
They all have a lesson.
They all have a gift.
In the stillness of tonight I will teach you to touch me slowly.
We went to the space she had prepared. A room surrounded by small candles, their flames creating pockets of shadow. The futon was covered in a soft white throw, white pillows spread about. There was nothing else in the room other than a bowl of warm oil.
She stood in front of me and began to undress me, undoing the buttons of my shirt slowly. There was a pause, a long breathe between each one.
I knew she was showing me the way to undress her.
The time between each button on her shirt was anticipation and more. It was preparation for a ritual, unveiling the altar of our bodies.
She lay on her back, her legs over my thighs, settling into comfort.
I poured the oil on her skin, copper in the light.
She took my hand and placed it on her heart, my other hand over her mound, the curve of her yoni.
Breathe with me, she said softly.
Feel my heart, feel my yoni.
Feel the energy in my body begin to open.
Feel it flow from one centre to the other, feel them begin to connect.
I felt the heat.
Don’t move, she said, until your heart moves your hands. Let the chatter of your mind drift away into the quiet.
When you feel the pulse, the same in you, the same in me, slowly, as slowly as you can, slide your hand down my belly.
When you feel my yoni throb you know she is ready for your touch.
You cannot rush the feeling.
Listen in the quiet, you’ll hear it.
And then with one fingertip, one soft finger, a feather of a finger, a whisper of your finger on my skin, stroke the spreading of my yoni.
And again, the rhythm of slowness beyond time.
I felt her skin as never before.
Each peak and valley of her mystery.
With each stroke there was a melting in her.
With each stroke there was a melting within me.
The world was in that touch.
In the slowness of pleasure, the sensation rises from deep within. It comes to the surface and takes you back into the depths with it.
In the melting is the expansion.
Her voice seemed to come from far away as I stroked, one slow line of bliss after another, after another.
I knew in that moment that the giving was indeed the receiving.
And I knew that the ways to touch a woman were without limit.’