By Kendra Holliday | April 27, 2013 at 7:19 am
I’ve had my yoni eggs for almost a year now. I’ve had them since before my hysterectomy.
I’ve futzed around with them off and on over the months, not really committing to them, just experimenting.
(Before you read any further, make sure you read my post yesterday all about yoni eggs so you know what the hell I’m talking about.)
One night, I had an intense phone conversation with my partner Matthew. Hectic life was getting in the way of our relationship and we weren’t feeling connected. The talk left me feeling agitated and upset. Exhausted, I went to sleep feeling like a smelly, wrung out dishrag.
At 3:40, I woke to great thunder and lightning. The tumultuous storm rattled the windows. I fretted and tried relaxing.
I drank a glass of wine.
I stuck my tiger’s eye yoni egg inside me – I wanted something inside. It was soo cold going in.
I frantically masturbated. When I came, I screamed. Then I cried hard, and fell back asleep. I had weird dreams, but don’t really remember them.
I woke to the alarm feeling dreary and drab, not refreshed.
My body clenched the egg tight, it didn’t want to let it go. I had to push it out, and when I did, it was really hot, and some ejaculate came with it.
More tears – this time from my pussy. More release.
Reactively – as opposed to pro-actively – we set aside the following weekend for US time. As in, fuck you world, we want off this high speed, merry-go-round ride for a while.
For 24 hours, we holed up and built the grown up version of a blanket fort, doing only what WE wanted to do instead of what everyone ELSE wanted us to do.
It was wonderful. Truly.
Alas, we were coming to the end of our sacred time. In one hour, I would be leaving to meet up with a friend of mine, a fellow sex worker/therapist for tea. I love communing with other sex workers – we get to relate to each other on a deep, rare level.
Anyway, Matthew declared that he wanted to spend our last hour together eating my pussy.
We both got naked and I got in my favorite position to relax and receive oral worship – flat on my back in the comfy bed piled high with blankets and pillows, legs flanking his broad shoulders, a beam of daylight filtering in through the half-drawn shade. I love beautiful afternoon sex!
He started in on me – as in, dining for life. It felt so, so good…
something was calling to me…
tiger’s eye yoni egg…
it was in the other room…
I wanted it to be a part of this…
I was torn. Everything was lovely just the way it was. If I called timeout, it might ruin the moment. Also, I didn’t want to offend him or suggest things weren’t perfect the way they were.
The psychic call was strong enough, and I banked on my partner’s empathy to speak up, so I did.
I tapped him on the shoulder mid-lick.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I go grab my egg?”
Without blinking an eye, he said of course – phew! Right away, he went to go get it for me, SO nice of him!
I tell you what – he gets me, and he has no problem putting a woman’s pleasure before his ego. He has a female orgasm fetish. He realizes that if you want a woman to cum, and cum WELL, you need to cater to her whims, put her at the center of the universe, and then bask in the glow of her rapture.
He knows that a healthy relationship is give and give. He knows that if a woman is pleased, he will reap the rewards in due time. He knows patience. He knows the way of the mature masculine. He is confident, and he is above it all.
He is a good lover.
When he returned, we settled right back into things. He took the egg and placed it in his mouth to warm it up.
Then, he shoved the egg inside me using his amazingly talented tongue. It was the first time it went in nice and warm. I was impressed, and touched.
Then, he resumed licking, eating, thrumming, pulling all his amazing cunnilingus tricks out from behind his ear like gold coins.
I was ecstatic. Squirming and grabbing, I came loud and primal on his mouth, in his face.
I’m not sure when something different started happening, but I’m guessing it was about
N o W . . .
After I came, he immediately loomed up over my quaking body to fuck me. His cock was red, raging and dripping. It looked savage.
He shoved it inside of me without ceremony, and I felt it push the hard egg up against my insides.
Before I could react, he just started fucking me, hard and intense, and all I could do was hang on for the ride.
With every thrust, his cock connected with the egg, which in turn connected forcefully with me. I have no uterus or cervix, so the end of my vagina is a blank wall. In the back of my mind, I felt a little scared that the egg would push through the wall and rupture my soul, but I couldn’t really do anything about it because the rest of my mind felt like
the sacred cow jumping over the moon.
I felt close to death.
I felt alive.
I felt like I was on a drug trip.
I felt close to god.
I don’t believe in god.
I felt connected to nature.
I felt totally out of control.
I felt scared.
(have you ever noticed that the word “scared” is almost identical to the word “sacred”?)
I felt ecstatic.
(have you ever noticed that the word “ecstasy” is almost identical to “stay sexy”?)
It was like all of a sudden being on a roller coaster or rocket ship, and not being able to stop it.
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD
HOLY FUCKING SHIT
After we came (I think I came that entire time, it was a full body orgasm and I’ve never had a full body orgasm or anything like that before in my life), we collapsed together and I burst into tears.
Burying my head in his chest, I babbled, “That was some kundalini shit right there!”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but we should look it up,” I mumbled through tears.
The kundalini can also awaken spontaneously, for no obvious reason or triggered by intense personal experiences such as accidents, near death experiences, childbirth, emotional trauma, extreme mental stress, and so on. Some sources attribute spontaneous awakenings to the “grace of God”, or possibly to spiritual practice in past lives.
A spontaneous awakening in one who is unprepared or without the assistance of a good teacher can result in an experience which has been termed as “kundalini crisis”, “spiritual emergency” or “kundalini syndrome”. The symptoms are said to resemble those of kundalini awakening but are experienced as unpleasant, overwhelming or out of control. Unpleasant side effects are said to occur when the practitioner has not approached kundalini with due respect and in a narrow egotistical manner. Kundalini has been described as a highly creative intelligence which dwarfs our own. Kundalini awakening therefore requires surrender; it is not an energy which can be manipulated by the ego.
Diminished or conversely extreme sexual desire sometimes leading to a state of constant or whole-body orgasm
Headache, migraine, or pressure inside the skull
Bliss, feelings of infinite love and universal connectivity, transcendent awareness
He was worried about me (in between popping pain reliever – the whole thing gave HIM a headache, not me). “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” he asked.
I told him yes. I didn’t feel right canceling on her at the last second because I saw GOD THROUGH MY CROTCH. And to be honest, I wanted to get away from him. I needed space. I felt wary of him, like I wanted to warn others, “Ladies, watch out for this one – he’ll unleash some kundalini shit on your ass when you least expect it!”
Back to that part where I mentioned he is a good lover – he knows how to execute the perfect balance of attentiveness/ruthlessness. He knows I want to be worshiped, but I also want to be ravaged.
Was it a combination of my fragile mood, his big love, the mystical egg, his intuitiveness, my openness to receive and his openness to give? Would I ever experience it again? What the hell just happened?
I got to my friend and tried telling her what just happened but I was pretty dazed out. We had a great time catching up and it was nice to hit the reset button and bond with feminine energy.
Afterward, I went back home to Matthew the Masculine. He was very sweet to me, and asked if I could share more about what happened. I told him um nooo, not really, I needed to process it more, ahem.
Which is what this is supposed to be now. Writing is cathartic for me.
What you are reading is a testimony to Matthew, the yoni egg, myself, god, nature:
From the bottom of my pussy, heart, and soul ~
I thank you.
(And next time, please give me a heads up before you rock my world!)