Tag Archive for: massage

Can tantra help with my sexual dysfunction

Connecting With The Heart Through a Prostate Massage

Yesterday was a Musubi massage, he orgasmed in perfect timing to the music playing in the room. I always use the same play list, in the same order, starting it 15 minutes before my client arrives so that as I move through the session, I am working with the same tunes that I know and love, for each distinct phase of my sessions. It appears that whilst I like variety in my men, I like familiarity in my music!

 

When you really know a piece of music you can predict the next note and your body moves both with the music and in anticipation of the music. I am sure dancers and singers feel this way – the music inhabits you and helps you transcend your limited, material, ego self to create a magical, ethereal experience for your client. Isn’t that what we all seek from live performance? A moment of pure magic when the performer seems “lost” in their performance? That’s how working with my playlist feels to me. I am transported by the music into a different realm from where I can reach out my hands and guide my clients to join me.

 

Oftentimes the music is timed perfectly for the moment I am in. I haven’t selected certain pieces for certain parts of the massage, rather the massage and I have grown with the playlist so that the music that most often accompanies a prostate massage is now completely perfect for the prostate massage. It’s a haunting piece with a beautiful voice that can feel deeply penetrating – and absolutely I time my penetration for that moment. I know when it’s coming and I know from my client’s body what is needed to prepare him for that moment of deep penetration, so I play with him, tease him, arouse him, soften him and reassure him as the music builds to THAT moment. 

 

Yesterday my client was lying on his front. He had just received an incredibly erotic and sensual body to body massage in which he had shown me how aroused he already was – you know, bum pushing up towards my body and grinding into my pelvic mound as I glided over him – it’s a dead give away! I’d completed my final slide down his back, making sure that my nipples were the very last parts of my body to touch his – over his buttocks, then down between his thighs, hopefully connecting briefly with his balls. I was sitting, oil in hand, ready for the next stage of the massage – the prostate – surveying his body, when I noticed that he was lying with both palms facing upwards either side of his buttocks.

 

I like this because it means that as part of my reassurance for deep penetration, I can rest one of my breasts in one of his palms (usually the left breast in the left palm, leaving the right hand free for the main job). Everyone likes to feel held, especially when they are experiencing something very vulnerable. Lying on their fronts, denied access to my eyes (I have good reason for this) I find ways for the rest of my body to provide the kind, loving reassurance that a body needs to relax, surrender and open. 

Prostate massage is many things. The prostate, or P spot, is the pleasure equivalent to the female G spot. It’s highly sensitive and a major erogenous zone. Obviously I don’t have personal embodied experience, but I have been told countless times that orgasm following a prostate massage is way more powerful than regular orgasm. You can massage the prostate internally using a finger or a toy or externally via the perineum. I always use my finger, craftily prepared in a thin, latex free glove whilst I am doing the hands free, body glide part of the back massage (clever huh?!)

 

A prostate massage is about pleasure, deep pleasure, but it’s also about healing and this is an important aspect to a whore – we are all about healing – healing the mind, body and soul through, and with, pleasure. This is one of the ways in which whores are different to prostitutes. A whore knows the healing power in her hands and body and uses both consciously, yes with pleasure, but always for healing.

 

A big part of the healing offered by a whore is opening up and re-connecting the heart to the rest of the body (especially the genitals) so that the client has a heart connected experience . It’s not uncommon for men (and women) to disconnect their heart (emotions and love) from their sexuality (their primal, life force energy) which leads to a distortion of sexuality for the individual, their partners and wider society. Sexual energy disconnected from love energy is obviously more prone to being predatory, toxic, exploitative and ultimately empty.

 

We ALL desire love. Our fundamental core needs as humans is to feel safe, to feel loved and to belong. Many of us spend a lifetime searching to be truly loved, believing that if/when we find the “right person” we will finally rest easy knowing that we are deeply and unconditionally loved. But here’s the shocking truth that will feel like a slap around the face if you are reading it for the first time – you can only receive love from another person to the same extent that you already have love for yourself. 

 

Of course we receive validation from others loving us which helps us to learn how to love ourselves and the wise among us use love from another to re-wire the neural pathways and belief systems to grow an internal love for ourselves, but ultimately love is an inside job. Another’s love for us can assist us on our journey to self love but can never, ever, replace self love.

 

Whores understand this. We are deeply loving humans who understand how love works and we use sex to help our clients reconnect to and open their hearts so that they feel and connect to the love that they have for themselves. 

 

We have a few tricks of the trade. One of which is the heart opening point in the palm of the hand. When you move your palm over your body or another’s, you are opening your heart to the experience. The recipient feels it. Whilst fingers feel lovely, if someone only uses fingers on your body it starts to feel irritating, your skin, your body, aches to feel the connection that only comes from the palm. I always massage the palm of my client’s hands at some point in the massage, usually whilst sitting astride him whilst he is lying face up so that we are connected gentital to genital. I will massage the hands, one at a time, activating the heart opening point in each, before placing his palms on my heart chakra in the centre of my chest, so that we share a heart and genital connected moment before I encourage him to move his hands over my breasts and the rest of my body if desired.

 

But on this occasion I saw his palms, facing upwards as he still lay facing downwards, as an invitation to do things a bit differently. My sense was that if I massaged his palms now, before the prostate massage, he would have a deeper, more heart connected experience. The music “allowed” me time to do so, so I moved my hands from his buttocks up his back, towards his shoulders and then down his arms, swirling around his palms at the ends.

 

I spent time with each palm, intertwining my fingers in his like an established couple on an afternoon stroll, keeping my palms connected with his, pressing them into his, consciously activating his heart opening point. I was aware that to do this my body was over his, my breasts were hanging down, caressing his back in a not discomforting way! That’s the joy of a tantric massage, you use every moment in the massage to connect, to tease, to arouse, to give, whilst also denying. It’s the perfect antidote to society’s smash and grab approach to the penis-centric sex model of sex. It’s slow and erotic and, at times, completely surprising.

 

Heart points duly opened, I returned to his anus. The music was building nicely to the powerful, penetrating moment. I squirted lube onto my fingers, sat astride his left leg, bent my body low over his and placed my index finger firmly but gently in the middle of his anal rose, at the entrance to his anus. I paused, waiting for his body to respond to my “knock on the door”, his sphincter muscle opened a fraction, I slid in that fraction and politely waited. Then as the music built to a crescendo and with his hand clasping my left breast, he relaxed and opened. My finger slid in with ease and I directed it straight to his prostate as the voice filled the room with deep, penetrating intensity. I held my finger still on that first spot for what was probably only a few seconds, but felt like a profound age, before I began to gently stroke his prostate. 

 

If I’m going to finger fuck an anus I do it at the end of the prostate massage, sometimes adding 1, 2, 3 more fingers as my client opens for me. Sometimes they pull their knees up underneath them, pulling their anus further apart for me, sometimes they push back onto my fingers so hard I fear my wrist might get damaged. But yesterday’s client was about gentle, quiet surrender- being held through a deeply vulnerable moment, with my body, my breath, my energy and every ounce of my conscious awareness. I held my client, penetrating him deeply, but so, so gently until I felt his anal muscles inviting me to leave.

 

As I removed my right hand I swiftly removed the glove and completed the prostate massage by running the side of my hand down between his buttocks ahead of mounting him so that the energy that had made its way from his root chakra (prostate) up my finger and through my body to my cunt could be returned to him. I very often “fuck” my clients at the end of a prostate massage. It’s their energy and I feel that it’s important to return it to them. Yesterday the flow of energy between his buttocks and my cunt was particularly intense, I could feel his energy penetrating deep inside my cunt making me squirt with pleasure. No cocks, no fingers, but deep mutual penetration of my cunt and his anus. That’s the power of activating sexual energy!

 

 

Leaning forward to say, “Roll over” into my clients’ ears I am never surprised to hear them say, “God I’m turned on!” Often they’ll roll over and despite all of the energy that has been activated and that we have already shared, his cock will still be soft, not post ejaculation soft (though it’s fine when it is), but just still soft because the energy has been activated elsewhere. It always makes me smile with secret knowing when I see that my client is still soft, because, contrary to mainstream belief, it is fully possible for a man to be highly aroused, even orgasmic, and not have a hard on. When you take the attention away from the penis (which is rare in the patriarchal model of sex) you find that there is a whole male body to arouse. It is very common for me to fuck a client’s anus quite hard – to my client’s deep pleasure – and for his cock to stay soft. 

 

Yesterday though, he was very erect. Too erect to give it too much stimulation too soon. A swift glide of my hands across the glands, down the shaft and around the balls told me he was a strong 7 or 8 and would move to a 9 quickly if I wasn’t careful. 

 

I wanted to be careful. I wanted to extend his ecstasy. I wanted to expand his sexual energy further and move it to more of his body. I wanted to make every single cell in his body sing in delight and vibrate with pleasure. I wanted him to feel the light headed giddiness of a full bodied, champagne bubble, firework orgasm.

 

My favourite position when I flip clients over is legs astride him, genital to genital “sharing” the erection (if he has one) cupping his cock between the lips of my engorged labia. I love to pretend the erection is mine, to look down and see this beautiful, pulsating, glossy cock smiling back at me, to take it in my hands and stroke it with pride in the way I imagine a man waking with a morning glory would. If the client isn’t “too” hard I can move my vulva up and down his shaft lubricating him with my juices. With his cock nestled between my cunt’s lips, I spent time massaging my client’s chest, swirling circles around each breast, moving my hands in figures of eight, fingering and tweaking his nipples to see how they responded all whilst grinding my hips so that his cock was gently pleasured by my cock. 

Chest massaged, I spent some time gliding up and down his body. Planting feathery kisses on his face, kissing him full on the mouth and then breathing tantalisingly over his glans as I did so.  I glided over this body like this, pressing my oily body into and along his to tease, arouse and activate until the music told me that it was time to prepare for the final stage of the session – the lingam massage. With one final, unhurried slide down the front of the body oil in hand I made my way to my seated position, cross legged, between his thighs, my feet slightly lifting his bum. 

 

As I took his cock in my hands, I closed my eyes and leaned into the music. If music is important for the rest of the massage, it’s absolutely essential for the lingam massage. I use it to vary my strokes, to alter the tempo, and to bring my whole body to this final, worshipful stage of the massage. It would be too easy to tune out at this stage and just “wank” a client off. But my clients choose me to be better and to do different. Quite a few have been wanked off by professionals and partners – they come to me to be transported. I am a whore, not a prostitute or a wife. I exist to initiate my men into a completely different experience of themselves. And, frankly, I need music, incense, my bed, candlelight – my intentional space to do this.

 

There are books that outline some of the many strokes that you can give a lingam in this stage of the massage and I followed one (listed below) religiously in my early days of Anabelle. Now I just take the cock for a dance. I connect with the music, I connect with the flow of energy in the room (and beyond) and I move my hands up and down and around his shaft, flicking over his glans and frenulum, cupping and “sucking” his balls, rubbing the root and the perineum, stroking the anal rose and then swirling up his torso or down his legs to distribute the energy that I’m building.

 

I do time this section of my session. I like to play like this for 20 minutes, but other than having a quick look at the clock to double check, I’m generally able to feel the time and also, of course, I have my playlist. Yesterday the timing was perfect. I think I was so relaxed, so in tune with the music and he was so in tune with me that he came, shuddering in orgasm as the song reached its crescendo and then he lay there enjoying the after-waves as the music quietened to its eventual end. 

 

As his energy subsided from explosive fireworks and shuddering body to deep stillness I quietly rubbed his sperm onto my breasts. I love this moment, the peace, the afterglow, the feeling of oxytocin flowing through your body, and of course the delicious stickiness of sperm – always so much more appreciated by my breasts than in a sad, floppy condom wrapped in a tissue and thrown in the bin. 

 

“WOW!” Was his first word. 

Followed by, “No words!” I smiled in gratitude and knowing and we began to talk about the prostate massage. 

 

My question wouldn’t have been, “Are you OK?” (I could feel he was far better than “OK”!) or “Was that good for you?” (How could he say anything other than “Yes”?!) It would have been something more open ended and inviting of information, like, “What was your experience?” 

 

In response he said, “That was so deep – I mean really deep – I felt you were cradling my heart.

 

BOOM!!!! The heart-sex connection!! My finger had been caressing his prostate and yet he had felt it in the centre of his chest. 

 

As he said these words my hand was resting, as it always does at the close of a lingam massage, on his lake of peace, his heart chakra, in the centre of his chest. 

 

Mission accomplished. 

 

A good result for a whore.

 

Recommended further reading:

 

“Lingam Massage: Awakening Male Sexual Energy” by Michaela Riedl

 

Closing Your Eyes – a Path to Powerful Orgasm

Men enjoy looking at women. Every man knows this. Every woman knows this. Our art galleries, films, and now computers are filled with naked and semi-naked women artfully displayed to please the male gaze. Products are made more enticing to buy through the use of the beautiful female form – whether it’s Page 3 of a British tabloid rewarding men for reading the “news” or scantily clad women at all car shows – our bodies are used by men to sell to men. (And yes this whore uses exactly the same device to sell her services to men!)

 

Being commodified in this way has made the male gaze problematic for women and worse, we are policed in our outfit choices because of male discomfort or criminal intent. A male rapist’s defence in a male dominated criminal justice system is most often, “She was asking for it….her skirt was too short…her heels too high….look jurors at the tiny thong she was wearing!!” What women wear and how we look is to blame for how men then choose to treat us. 

 

It is a tightrope all women walk on. Be pretty and alluring enough to attract a partner (this is patriarchy – life is just infinitely easier and more enjoyable for women when we have men in our lives as protectors, co-providers and as our lovers) but not too pretty or alluring so that we attract too much or unwanted attention. It takes women decades to learn how to navigate the male gaze and I suspect that for many, maybe most, of us it will always be slightly uncomfortable.

 

Why? What is so uncomfortable about a man finding pleasure in looking at your body? I’ve pondered this for years. As someone who has the privilege of having a slim but curvaceous body, I still find it deeply discomforting to have a man look at me. It makes me feel like a cow at market. Or a racehorse being led out for inspection by a prospective buyer. Either is awful. An animal to be owned by the man appraising me. It’s the essence of patriarchy and however complimentary the man might be, I feel demeaned by the appraisal and never quite know what to do with the compliment. I don’t ever treat men in this way. I would never stand in front of a man looking him up and down in his underwear and pronounce whether he was “Very nice” (or not). How rude!!!

 

The worst session I ever had, and the only one in which I have been assaulted, started with a new client arriving, very pumped and possibly high on some substance or other. His energy was frantic and very hot as he walked into my work space and commanded that I stand back from him so that he could “Take me all in.” Startled and taken a bit aback, I did as he “asked” and was appalled to hear him actually say, out loud, “Good, good, yes you’re good enough.” I was standing a good few feet away from him naked apart from my underwear. This was not seduction. This was not a man who on first meeting me blurts out, “Oh my god you’re beautiful” as he plants gentle kisses on my neck, this was a buyer at a cattle market, or worse, a slave auction. Instead of sensually undressing each other, kissing, stroking, teasing each other into full arousal, Adam had pushed me away from him so that he could fully appraise “his purchase”. Mistake number 1: paying for a period of my time does not equal purchase of me.

 

I am not treated in this way, by anyone. No self respecting whore is. I was outraged and asked him to leave. He refused.

 

That was tricky for me. And I knew I needed to use my wits. He had paid for Kama, my full girlfriend experience, he had an urgent, throbbing erection thanks to my bloody underwear and he was going to empty himself in me or on me however much I resisted. So, I did what millions of women across millennia and across the planet have done before me and will do after me, I made myself as safe as I could using the tools available to me. There was no way I was going to ask my cunt to open for this horrible man. She and I have standards and we don’t invite repellent energy inside us. But I am very skilled with my hands so it was an easy and very fast decision to deploy them. 

 

I don’t know how we “fell” onto the bed, but I remember him on top of me biting into the flesh of my breasts. You know I love my nipples being tweaked, really hard when I am highly aroused, but (a) my energy was as flat as a pancake after his rude comment and refusal to respect my “No” and (b) I don’t like teeth sinking into my flesh on any part of my body, ever. I made all the right noises and my hands did their work. He came within a few minutes. As he did so I sunk my teeth into his shoulder as hard as I possibly could, I was aiming to draw blood. 

 

With his impatient energy ejaculated out of him he calmed down and was almost apologetic. I pointed to his pile of clothes and asked him to leave. As he drove away I messaged him saying, “It’s important for you to know that the bite on your shoulder was not from passion, it was from a furious woman. Every time you see it remember that when a woman says NO and asks you to leave you must respect her wishes. Good bye.” And I blocked him.

 

He liked what he saw and he felt entitled to take it, like a brute whipping a horse he had just paid for. But I am not a horse or a cow at market, I am not an animal on a farm, I am a highly skilled whore. No-one ever pays for me. They pay for an exquisite service that I feel honoured and very lucky to have the skills and expertise to provide. 

 

Maybe this experience is why I am not that excited about sexy underwear. I buy very few items, (despite the fact the HMRC allows me to claim it against tax as “work wear”). I know that whilst I may look sexy in lingerie, I am far, far sexier out of it! Lingerie is uncomfortable. It’s why we don’t choose to wear it on the school run, whilst nipping to the shops or emptying the dishwasher. I have genuinely heard men complain that their wives don’t wear it often enough and how much it would please them to see her wearing a sexy stocking and suspender ensemble as she sorts the laundry or prepares him an evening meal (yes, my eyes rolled every time!)

 

The patriarchal fixation on erections puts an enormous amount of pressure on women to look a certain way to ping a man’s desire. Our sole role in sex has been reduced to pleasing his gaze so that his cock is switched on and he’ll gallantly initiate and lead the act of sex. All we women have to do is remain forever young, maiden-like, thin, perky, smooth, hairless, unlined, pouty lipped and wear uncomfortable garb so that he gets hard and takes us. 

 

Urgh!! I cannot tell you how much I hate this passive, pathetic role for women. We are immensely sexual and sensual. We are naturally multi-orgasmic, capable of wave after wave of deep pleasure in each of our individual, unique, sacred bodies and any man is very lucky and privileged to share that pleasure with us. We are truly powerful, not because we have earned the right to say “No” (though that is a crucial right for both women – and men), but because we are intoxicating when we say, “Yes, yes, yes!!!”

 

For this reason I enjoy turning off the male gaze in my sessions. It’s liberating for me to work away from it’s constant appraisal and it’s liberating for my clients – who when they are freed from the dominating sense of sight become reconnected to their other senses, most importantly touch. When my clients listen to my invitation to close their eyes and connect with sensation in their bodies the ensuing sessions are absolutely breathtaking.

 

P had booked a Musubi/Kama session (a body to body massage leading into a full girlfriend experience) and on arrival he asked if I could make sure to give him a full lingam massage at some point during the session. Duly noted, I invited him to undress and lie face up on the bed so that I could guide him through the meditation I open all my massage sessions with. As he lay down and I threw a warm blanket over his naked body, I invited him to close his eyes, quietening the usually dominant sense of vision so that his other senses became heightened. Then I guided him to connect to the sounds he could hear (my voice, the music, occasional sounds drifting in from the outside world), to the smells he could smell (incense wafting over him from the table near the bed, drops of frankincense on the pillow), to the tastes in his mouth that he was swallowing down into his body and most importantly to what he could feel – to the sensations on his skin and within his body – as he dropped deeper and deeper into a calm, relaxed state of peace and stillness.

 

He stayed in this deeply relaxed state, eyes closed, breathing deeply, throughout the session. I massaged his body with mine, rubbing my breasts, tummy, pubic mound, thighs and feet all over the back of his body. I massaged his prostate carefully and slowly, his anus was unsure, but accepted my “gentle knock on the door” and pulled me inside. When I asked him to roll over onto his front I didn’t glide up his chest to initiate “girlfriend experience”, instead I sat between his legs and gave him the lingam massage he had asked for. I could feel his energy moving around his body and had to hold back my own impatience to feel it inside mine, but I was determined to give him the full 20 minutes on his lingam that he had specifically asked for. 

 

He was fully absorbed in the experience: connecting to sensation in his body, feeling it expanding on every inhale, feeling it moving throughout his body on every exhale. He later told me that he was so deeply in trance and so absorbed by the sensations moving around inside of his body that he had no idea whether he was erect or not.

 

As it happened, he stayed firmly erect throughout the lingam massage. Even when I moved my hands from his cock onto his torso and down his legs to disperse and move his sexual energy, his cock had stayed hard. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had softened, I’m interested in the flow of energy not in the performance of an erection. What was interesting was that he didn’t know. His erection had become unimportant to him – even though this was a Kama session – because he had connected to something so much deeper and profound: his sexual energy, the joy of moving it around the body and the magic of intentional breathing and touch that facilitated his journey. The journey wasn’t about him and me. It was about him. It was deeply internal, I knew that. I completely understood that he was feeling so much more because he was doing so much less and the less included no vision. 

 

When it was finally over I allowed myself to kiss the tip of his cock then open my lips and pull his beautiful, glistening erection into my mouth and deep down my throat.

I enjoyed playing with his cock in my mouth, flicking my tongue over his sensitive frenulum, making his cock twitch against the roof of my mouth, using moist lips over moist glans, my tongue, lips and fingers moved up and down his shaft, over his balls and across his perineum. I enjoyed taking him deeper – slowly, gradually, giving my throat time to relax and open around his hardness, mirroring the way his sphincter had earlier allowed in my finger. 

 

He had “endured” 20 minutes of lingam massage followed by at least 10 minutes of me enjoying his cock in my mouth, he was still breathing, he was still deeply relaxed, but I was pretty sure that he must be quite close to popping. In a Kama session I do try to ensure my client gets the chance to feel himself inside my cunt, if his erection is strong enough to sustain a condom. His was. I moved from my position between his legs, to glide up his body so that I could kiss him and be in a position from which I could reach for a condom in the bowl next to the bed. My left breast fell into his mouth as I reached onto the bedside table to pull the condom bowl towards me. I lingered, making the most of the beautiful sensations moving through my body as he nibbled my nipple. I slid back down, opening the small packet as I did so and once I was positioned with his cock standing up firm between my legs I rolled on the condom. 

 

His cock throbbed in anticipation as I did so, I manoevered my body and took him deep inside me. His hands were lying either side of his body, they showed no sign of wanting to hold my hips or pleasure my breasts, I noted that I would be riding this cock alone. Our pelvises shifted position so that his cock penetrated me deeper, it made me gasp a little, which encouraged him to move his pelvis a bit more, turning circles so that his cock massaged my cervix. The energy was incredible. I started to come, I could feel my vaginal muscles squeezing against him, but he just held me tight – moving his hands to hold my thighs on his,  thrusting deeper into me, pushing against the squeeze of my muscles. It is so sexy when a man does this. My orgasm got stronger and stronger but he held me firm and managed not to be ejected. 

 

As I had suspected, he didn’t last long. He came before I stopped coming and then all was still. I removed myself, tidied away the condom and sat back, between his legs waiting for him to open his eyes. He still hadn’t opened his eyes! We had experienced all of this and he hadn’t opened his eyes once.

 

This always happens, dear reader, when a client keeps his eyes closed for the entire session he has a profoundly different experience. With his eyes closed he connects deeply with sensation in his body, rather than to the visual receptors in his head. The mind can lead you to a certain level of orgasm but you don’t need to be with a whore for that – the ready supply of cheap porn or even a swimwear catalogue will do that job perfectly well. Time and money invested in a proper whore is time to switch off from the domineering sense of vision and turn on the less confident, frequently overwhelmed senses: smell, sound, taste and touch. Vision will overpower all of these which is a huge shame because when you’re with a real human being what you smell, taste, hear and feel matters as much as, if not more than, what you see. 

 

As P finally opened his eyes he laughed incredulously and said, “Wow, that was amazing. I have never experienced an orgasm like that – I can still feel it everywhere – in my feet…. here…” he pointed to his chest, “In my hands…” he laughed, “Everywhere!! I was so deeply in trance I could feel everything. It was absolutely amazing. So much more and so much better than the sex I normally have.”

 

Try it. Close your eyes. Close off vision, just for a short while, and connect with your body.

 

Go inwards.

 

Enjoy the journey. 

 

Photo by Narissa de Villiers on Unsplash 

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