Inner Strength

By Eris Vs. Eros
A Poor Porn Production
April 24, 2003
Copyright 2003, All Rights Reserved.

Looking into her eyes. We are simply friends, who fuck. But friends we are. Deep friends and simplicity is what every complexity becomes. And everything is more complex then it first seems. That is my Axiom of a Razor…

Speaking of which, she is shaving her pubic hair for tonight’s rendezvous. While I love the sight of the beautiful carpet between her legs and the gentle feel and warmth that it brings to my whole, it does tend to get stuck in one’s teeth, and since I pride myself on the cunnilingus of my skill, we decided to see what we could find in this experimentation. But the deal was that I too would need to be shaved.. Luckily she volunteered to do that job for me.

Yet I always have been proud of the little hair that I obtained from puberty. Mostly on my chin, but my chest and tummy and around my pleasure area… That is where it is the thickest, hair that is.. The other part is decent. Not porn quality, but women don’t often like porn anyways, and they usually like me.

I think it was mainly my breasts that she wanted to see shaved... I have always liked bi tendency in women, and I too have my own. My chest is bigger than most men. We always joke about training bras for me, I wonder if it will go far enough for her to buy one for me.. And I like my nipples played with, but the little hair that does cover them can be a distraction of fantasy, I suppose, for her.

So she comes to me in the night. I beckoned her call. Almost like telepathy, but more likely synchronicity. We both have the strength and weaknesses of great lovers. They compliment like copulation.

I had forgotten my sexual strength. I had once confused strength with power, and was fearful. But time has brought wisdom, and exercise has brought physical longevity and my muscles can last longer now, but foreplay is always nice.. I just hope I don’t get cut this evening as I have the spontaneous orgasms flush my body while her razor is on my flesh. But how lovely those mini earthquakes are, that make me shake, and call out in ways that would be oh so embarrassing if I let out in polite society. But she accepts my gooberheadedness in a cute fashion, and my boy and manself she takes together, as I take her both as a full grown woman, and then as a little girl, comforted by a friend.

There must be different hormones that mix around this crazy head of mine as I have sex, because the deeper I am into the moment, the harder it is to ejaculate, but the more earthquakes that touch my soul, and I feel like I suppose maybe a woman does, I think we both have these same hormones, and they are different but complimentary, we are the yin and yang as we become the yin and yang of the relationship, of the coming together. But stamina is coming to me, and I much prefer to enjoy the entire experience than to only have my 5 minutes of power rush to let my “big man” side of mind dominance shoot a load.

So here we are. Memory has now become the moment. And I have come full circle. And she rests in my arms for aftplay. We nuzzle, and snuggle, and touch and still our hearts are warm with the blood that recently pumped to exalted levels through our flesh, exercising our life stream, exercising all that is meant to be in this natural world, where our lives reach the supernatural in every instance of this sacred act that people take far too seriously. For sacredness has little to do with seriousness, and love has little to do with jealousy, and life has everything to do with us.