Giving and Receiving: The Art of Zen - puss?

Firstly, I suppose I ought to apologise to any reader who has actually been waiting for me to write something, not that I expect there are any.

It has been a considerable time since I wrote, which has made me ask the question as to why I have been unable to write anything on this blog for such a long time.

The whole purpose of Zenpuss was to record the sexual enlightenment of a woman who, over a period of time, realised that sex was an important and possibly essential part of her life and indeed everyone’s lives.

It is a personal and powerful story that is only partly told for reasons of anonymity. One day, I really will explain everything, and hopefully hundreds or thousands of women may benefit from the retelling of the gifts that I have been afforded in rediscovering my sexuality from the shadow of a life where it had managed to hide itself.

However, there are always other issues to confront along the way. That is why it is a journey, and that is why the actualisation may never be realised, or it may certainly go through stages of peaks and troughs.

I have learned a considerable amount about myself on this sexual journey, and I am still learning about the body, mind and soul of sexuality. I am reading about sex, Zen sex particularly, and I still feel as though I have so much more to give and so much more to receive in the art of love-making.

Is it better to have discovered and then lost, or not to have discovered at all?

The jury is out, but then again what exactly is ‘lost’?

I can never ever be sorry that I have known sexual satori, except in the moments when I am.

It is possibly the greatest gift that I have ever experienced, though.

I am a fortunate woman.

I may be a nymphomaniac with a cock fetish, who loves nothing more than being filled with the pleasure of an erect cock, ready to smother it with my extreme profusion of fuck juices but there is far more to my sexuality than the actual act of fucking.

Like many others, my journey stalls and comes to abrupt or temporary stops along the way, but journey on in hope I will, because my sexuality has turned out to be a very significant part of me, which is why writing about it can sometimes be difficult.

This entire blog is deliberately about Zen sex because as far as I am concerned, it is the ultimate sex. Everyone can fuck but it is how you think, feel, imagine, create, share, enjoy, understand that makes the difference. It is the complete oneness and the complete togetherness that makes Zen sex the perfection that it is.

Sex is being. Loving is. There is no beginning and no end.

So something blasted me into writing mode once more and it was the simplest of things; a mere statement from an actor in a newspaper, not even talking about sexuality – until his response.

The actor was asked a non-sexual question.

“Is it better to give or to receive?”

The response
“Is a woman's orgasm giving or receiving?”

………………………………………………………………..

And there you have it, the big Zenpuss question of the day.

Is a woman’s orgasm, for a man, giving or receiving?

Or indeed, is a man’s orgasm, for a woman, giving or receiving?

 Or for that matter, is a lesbian’s orgasm a gift or a receipt for the woman who has engineered this loveliness, or is a gay cum giving or receiving?

The obvious Zen response is that it is both. How can you possibly untangle these two essentials of life and of Zen?

The ultimate beauty of all things Zen is that in giving we receive, and in receiving we give. The two are not mutually exclusive; the two are mutually intertwined without a need for trying to sever something that cannot be separated.

Zen asks us to consider our good intentions, and within that is the desire for someone else’s wellbeing. Someone else’s sexual wellbeing is equally valid. So in enjoying sex and lovingly bringing someone to climax is as much of a gift to the provider as it is to the recipient.

Dana.

I can still see the explosion of joy on my “provider’s” face when I erupt with warm pleasure all over the place. This is the most perfect act of love-making. Likewise, my intention has always been to pleasure him, and in doing so I too am the recipient.

Isn’t that what sex and making love is all about?

Isn’t it obvious?

People are selfish beings, and too frequently, especially when caught up in the sensual act of sex, one can make the mistake of focussing entirely on the ultimate climax for oneself.

For real sex, real Zen sex, this is only half of the story. Sex and orgasms are wonderful but if you are only concerned with the ultimate pleasure for yourself, well quite frankly you may as well have a wank.

Not that there is anything wrong with masturbation. In fact, there can be just as much giving and receiving in watching one another wank.

For further illustration to my cause, please read this extract from “Zen Body-Being”

“The most important quality in sex is …….. feeling. Feeling your own body, from head to toe, inside and out, and allowing the natural feelings of passion, lust, love, affection, appreciation, tenderness, joy and pleasure to flow freely and without inhibition…”

“The collaborative nature of sexual activity also provides a uniquely gentle and non-competitive opportunity to explore the issues of psycho-physical relationship. Both the physical and emotional aspects of sex are greatly enhanced by generating feelings, such as intimately feeling your partner’s whole body, or freely radiating your own erotic feelings for your partner to receive. As an opportunity to transcend the usual personal boundaries,  sex encourages a state of openness that allows an astonishing ability to “join” with your partner, giving and receiving a kind of energy that is simply not available in other activity. Sex provides immediate feedback and proof that your state of mind and degree of feeling can have a direct (and wonderful) effect on another person, as well as yourself.”

Collaboration, feelings, giving, receiving, transcending, energy, join, intimacy, exploration, openness. Surely all of these things are qualities of real sex and not just a fuck?

If you have had Zen sex, then why settle for anything else? Which is probably why the sharing of one’s body with another human being is so precious, and so intimate?

Can you really have sex with another person without it being Zen sex if that is what you have accustomed yourself to wanting, expecting, giving and receiving?

That is why it is hard!

Here is another statement from zenmoments.org.

It is not about sex. It is about giving and receiving, but there is something that the sexually enlightened hopefuls amongst us can learn.

“It’s interesting – this giving and receiving thing.
I think in Western cultures we so much emphasize our independence and individuality that it gets way out of proportion - we hate the idea of dependence somehow, and yet we are totally interdependent – participating in a constantly changing dynamic matrix of exchanging – giving and receiving all the time. Sure, the mail man gets paid to deliver the mail, and the bank teller gets paid to do her job, but with just a little extra attention these ordinary transactions with people (whether you are the mailman, the bank teller, the mailman’s customer or the bank’s customer) can be beautiful – it just takes attention and a little kindness – and we all know this! But how easily we get into righteousness when things are not up to our expectations….. sad really.”

We can all strive for better giving and receiving in sexuality, even when we think we have got the balance just right.

Here are some more quotes.

“ [SEX] ……the merging of flesh on flesh, the indescribable fullness, and the climax–that infinite moment of white light and absolute dissolve”.

Surely this is definitely going to work best with giving and receiving?

“Sex is a powerful and blinding drive, but it is not just a primitive drive to selfish and possessive satisfaction. Your sexual impulse can grow with you into a beautiful–and unconditional–physical, emotional, energetic, and spiritual union. All of the differences, the power struggles, and the guilt, are dissolved.
Our sexual nature mirrors the union that is expressed in the higher spiritual aspects of life. It is our base experience of nirvana; the complete meltdown of boundaries and separations. And we can transform our sexual nature’s irresistible power into that higher expression, but we must begin by joyously accepting our basic drives.
This sexual alchemy takes time and energy to accomplish, but it is entirely doable. On one end of the scale, sex is a physical and emotional union with your partner, and at the higher end it is creative union with your inner and outer universe.”

The giving and receiving is not just about the two way workings with your sexual partner.

Zen sex goes further than this.

It is the giving and receiving to oneself too. It is the union with the universe. It is a giving of yourself to that universe whilst simultaneously being completely at one with yourself, at the same time as being completely at one with your partner.

Isn’t that miraculous? Isn’t this something that everyone should aspire to?

Just think about it.

What do you really want from sex?

For me, there is no alternative to this. Sex is almost nothing without Zen, at least for some of the time. Yes, sex can be a physical act, a wank, a quickie, but real sex is the giving and receiving, and I am not sure anything will change my mind on this, and the glorious receipt of that ultimate state of Satori that can only come from the completion and the oneness of sexual compatibility – with a partner, with oneself, with Zen.

Sartorial Sex

Sartorial Sex? Thanks but no thanks.

Sartorial sex? Sex that needs dressing up in elaborate clothes? Sex that involves embellishment in its retelling? Sex that requires exaggeration of the frequency and intensity of orgasmic sensations?
I don’t think so!

I don’t need sartorial sex!
I don’t need to pretend that the sex that I have is anything other than what it is. It requires no dressing up.

My sex is a cunt and a cock; mutually needy, mutually moist, mutually content.
Perfect wholeness, perfect oneness.
Total togetherness, complete individuality.
Serenity, sensation.
Peace, pandemonium.

My sex is loving and it is frantic. It is lusty but not driven by a lust. It is full of the most vital ingredients of respect, understanding, warmth, desire, passion, caring and an abundance of others that are equally important.

My sex fulfils me utterly to the point of seeming saturation. Only there is never a point when I do not want sex.
My mouth may shout “No more” but as I scream the words my legs are opening and begging for him to reach inside me once more, pounding again at the most intense point of amalgamated flesh that is protecting and collecting around my g-spot.

My sex is demanding and compassionate. It is liberating and yet I want it to devour me too, metaphorically tying me to the bed to take more and more of this perpetual brilliance.

My sex is intensely passionate. It is aggressive in touch and expectation. It is delicate in its penetration and feeling. At one minute I am begging for his cock to ram me as hard as he can, to bang forcefully into my cunt, pushing his delights so far into me that my entire abdomen seems to be exploding with an array of consciousness from every strand of skin that he gloriously manipulates. At other times, I can hardly feel him easing himself inside my body such is the juiciness of our bodies and the fixation on eyes and thoughts and feelings. There is a naked invisibility to our desire that makes the entire togetherness feel ephemeral so slight is the touch. Yet it is far from fleeting.

I call for more knowing that my body can hardly take another incursion, not that I ever feel that such divine penetration is offensive.
I beg for his cock because there is nothing, nothing, nothing that gives me more pleasure, more delight.
I need his cock, I need his adoration, I need his touch, I need to be held, to be cared for.

My sex gives me all of this, and in receiving, I give, and in giving, I receive.

My sex is my everything. There is nothing more important in my world. This sex is the pinnacle of human experience. It is where passions collide and mutually excite.

I want to write reams about this. I could write reams. I want to labour every single sensation so that the reader can see just how extremely important this sexual experience and my sexuality is.
And yet, my sex is a cock and a cunt.
It is that simple.
There is nothing more to say despite my wish to explain more.

My cunt, his cunt.
His cock, my cock.
Mine and his without possession, without ownership, without dependency.
Mine and his with possession, with ownership, with dependency in that single moment where the oneness and the desire for one another supersedes everything else.
It is a cock and a cunt.
That is all and a million things beside.

Am I needy? How can I possibly be so when I have had this sort of sexual experience?
Am I needy? Completely – to the point that I almost feel that I cannot get through the next twenty four hours without this majestic, sexual wonderment immediately.
My cunt is absolutely brimming with immense satisfaction at the moment but such incredible perusal of my cunt leaves it physically very tender. The tiniest of movements evokes an awakening, reminding me of what I have received all day. I have an orgasm collecting there in an instance.
My cunt is metaphorically bruised by amazing, incredible fucking. That sensation is still there some eight hours afterwards.
It is almost as though it is reminding me, no telling me, that I should and will have more. I may have to wait but I will definitely want more.

Is it wrong to want more? Shouldn’t I be satisfied by this immense sex and be grateful that I have ever had this experience? Of course but I would be insane, having had this experience, to simply park it as a memory and not desire it once more.

If I could, I would be lying back in bed right now. If I could I would be holding my cock, his cock in my hand, rubbing it into life, making it as erect and needy as it was earlier today. If I could, I would be begging him to rub my clitoris whilst he pushed his fingers inside me. If I could, I would spray my pussy juices all over him whilst demanding that he fills my cunt with ‘my’ cock. If I could, I would hold his face as he grabs a plentiful amount of flesh from my breasts, fondling them and forcing my nipple into an erection of its own. If I could I would plead with him to stop and immediately stipulate how much I need him back in me. If I could I would have him back in me and I would immediately be gushing my juices all over his shaft and feeling them ooze out of me to soak his awaiting balls. If I could, I would push his hands behind my arse and encourage him to spunk his gorgeous whiteness into my awaiting pussy. If I could I would insist that he talks to me and tells me how all of this feels. If I could I would tell him how fucking adorable he is and he would reciprocate knowing that a physical reward to such words are a mere second delayed. If I could we would orgasm together and fall into one another externally and internally, together and alone, loving and knowing.
Blissful in one another’s deliciousness.

If I could do all of this I would need no sartorial nonsense to elaborate my sex.

Because this sex is Satori; the ultimate expression of everything and nothing, of companionship and oneness, of complete satisfaction and an incredible desire for more.
Satori cannot really be explained. It is almost absurd to do so.
It is our cock and our cunt but it is abundantly more than that and yet in its simplicity, it is exactly that; his cock, his cunt.

All I know is that I can never ever return to a pre-satori sex existence. My cunt deserves the sex that I have. It has given me meaning. It has made sense of my being, of me being who I am. It has made me.

As I lie in nothingness and everything, I care about nothing and I care for everything. I consider my needs and I consider nothing at all.
I think there is nothing but nothing IS everything.

And that is the elaborate state of sex; the simplicity of knowing that through sex we can achieve a state of nothingness which encapsulates the most essential, precious component of life itself...............


.........................as I said, it really is not that easy to explain but for those who have got no idea what I am talking about, I sincerely hope you have this sort of sex to come. It is possible and from someone who had to do just this, it is worth waiting for.

Just expect your neediness to increase though.

As I said at the beginning, Sartorial sex? You can keep it. I don't need pretty pictures or beautiful drapes.
I need the nothingness of and the completeness of being.
I need satori.
And so do you.