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Two years ago, I wrote the piece 7+1 Ways to fuck a woman’s mind.  It was a passion piece that I sprayed out in one sitting.  It was written from my cock and balls.  The response was as overwhelming as it was polarised.

On the one hand, I received waves of passionate gratitude, an outpouring of expression; a mixture of hunger and relief flowing from fast-typing fingers.  Humble thank you’s to you all.

On the other hand, I also received a fair share of criticism: a wall of anger, resentment and vitriol.  I had the full support of the editor who helped me published it, and a full-blown rebuttal from another.

 

This was not an accident.

 

This was what I was going for.  My piece was designed to be polarising.   It had to be.

 

I wrote the article knowing full well the potential consequences.  I was going to stab into raw emotion, split the audience in half, and draw sharp criticism.  I knew I was going to touch a nerve, and I knew which nerve it was.  The contrasting responses were inevitable.  Clearly this was something for us to explore.

 

So, that is what I am doing.

I will break it down for you.

 

What I do, and how I do it.

Why two years on, I am still fucking my woman’s mind.

 

 

1.  My woman orgasms 100 times a day.

This point alone makes almost all rebuttals and criticisms moot.

In fact, 100 is a conservative figure.

We achieve this via a unique combination of energies.  For one, she has an intense acceptance and appreciation for her body.  It emerges as a powerful body openness.  Energy flows from one end to another.  That is the power of self-love.

On her own, she manages 40-50 orgasms.  Together, we push that number to almost 200.  We achieve this because I fuck her mind.  I reach into her and she cums.

This is the reason why I began the article with “a woman’s sex is mental”.  Yes, I will eventually reach a place that is emotional, soulful, even spiritual.  But it must begin with the mind.  That is how I touch her; that is how I penetrate her.  To fuck her I must begin with her mind.

Yes, I could have called it ‘mindful presence’.  Maybe even ‘erotic conscious relating’.  That is a safe, sweet phrase to use.

It is more accurate to say that I fuck her mind.

 

2.  She masters surrender

Fucking my woman’s mind means she chooses surrender.  When I move to her, she makes the choice to surrender to me.

Before surrender, she has taken the time to invent a mask.  She will wear it every day.  She will hold onto it and swear by it.  She will appear beautiful, perfect and joyful throughout her long, menial day.  She will eat, sweat and taste the succulent gifts that daily life has to offer.  Her mask is her way of hiding.

My woman has mastered her mask.  She hides her true face in public as she goes around her business.  But quietly, oh softly, she yearns for that mask to be ripped off.

When I fuck her mind, I tell her to take off her mask.  “Show me your true face.  Hide nothing.  Let me see.  Give me the soul in your eyes.”

And she accepts.  She lets me.  She cums.  When she surrenders, she is strong, powerful, open and loving.  But only after she surrenders, only after I fuck her mind.

Why?  Because only then will I feel the depth of her, when all of her passions flow out.  Her surrender is not voluntary.  It erupts out of her engorged body.  She accepts it, but she does not trigger. It.  She will be overcoming with fear, even terror, but like all things, even these emotions become lost in her surrender.

 

3.  I master penetration

To fuck her mind, I penetrate her.  To fuck her spirit, I penetrate her.  Penetration means to reach in and touch her.  It means to reach past her masks, her pretending, and to love her.

Her mind is her forefront, and thus I must fuck her mind.  Her mind is in her eyes, and so I must touch that.

How does one do so?

With words.  That is why words are a woman’s weakness.

Touch her, grasp her, use words to send her mind into pulses of tension and contraction.  Poetry was invented for this reason, as was music.  To penetrate does not mean to shove in deeply with a sharp blade.  No, that will happen eventually.  Rather, the most elegant forms of penetration are subtle, even gentle.

There are many ways to penetrate.

One is through presence.

Another is with compassion.

And of course there is physical coitus.

But touch her first with words and penetrate her mind.

 

4.  We master pain.

Penetration is, by definition a violent, traumatic event.  I am there, I reach in and I touch her.  I must reach into her and change her.  I move to rip her open.  She accepts, surrenders, and opens.

It is painful.

It need not be a physical pain (though it can be).

It need not be an emotional pain (though sometimes it regrettably is).

It is a deeper, grinding pain.  A throbbing pain, a maddening pain.

It is important not to run away.  Pain is neither good nor bad.  It is simply essential.

Penetration is a wounding, and wounding is essential for growth.  For my woman to surrender she must accept the penetration, and with it the vulnerable, the pain, and the wounding.

Likewise, I must take the pain of witnessing her, of watching her open, agonising, and cumming in my arms.  I must feel her crumble and unleash what is inside.  She expresses it and is relentless.  Yes, this is also painful for me, in my heart.

She, in turn, penetrates me.

Our society is one that is afraid of pain.  We are afraid of wounding our loved ones.  We have shit fathers, and we have shit mothers.  We are shit lovers and partners because we are too afraid to open them and to wound them.  To confront this, to be mutually ripped open like this, there are few things more terrifying, and thus, we run away.  You will want to run away from these very words.

 

5.  We master compassion

Here, compassion will follow the pain.  Because I fuck her, penetrate her, and open her, I must be prepared for her pain.

To do this, I must master my own pain.  I must be present with it.  I must watch myself, penetrate myself, find the depths of my suffering, and come to terms with it.  I must admit to myself my mistakes, my failures, my neuroses, and the pains I carry from childhood.

I must take this and look at it in the eye, and suffer the terror of revealing this.  It is not pleasant, but I do so to train myself for the rigours that I must face in life.  This is important.

When my father told me to man up, he was tasking me to confront my pain.

When my woman asks me to be a man, she is asking me to witness hers.

And I can only do this with compassion.  I can only do this with penetration and presence.  It is a feminine pain that she holds.  She calls it her “female insanity”.  All women have this.  Many will hide it.  They say they hide it to protect themselves of the consequences.   They will hide it because they feel that their man cannot withstand it.

For my own part, I have found that I can withstand my woman’s insanity.  It took many years of finding the pain in myself.  Many nights by myself, thanking my wounded father, and taking the step to be a father for myself.

My woman senses this in me, and she trusts me.  I am allowed to open her, to penetrate her.  This is why she allows me to fuck her mind.

 

6+7.  We master flesh and energy

For us, this is intertwined.  Though we can travel into deeper realms of existance (and have a lot of fun describing them), we acknowledge the depth of the each other’s flesh.  We touch each other, taste each other and fuck each other.

For my own part, I must watch my body and myself.  It is my trap to become enthralled with my thoughts, and my woman’s body helps me become present in mine.

For my own part, I must always consider my body’s death.  There will be a time when my body will cease, when my flesh and my bones will become ash in the ground.  Confronting this is a pain in itself.

But I must observe the flow inside my own body, particularly when I communicate with my woman.  I observe the emotions, flux and flow.  I feel the weakness in my body when I am without integrity.  I feel the strength when I tell the truth (or Truth, whatever rocks your boat).

I am here as I can look at my hands, feel them, and then say, “here is life, here is love, and death awaits me”.

And with her body, and her pain, and her insanity.  And then her hunger, the hunger to be fucked, taken, and loved.  What else can I do in the face of it?  I can only penetrate her how she hungers for it.  I sense the desire in her flesh, it radiates of her as heat.

 

The +1 – Emptiness

Usually I stop myself from describing this part, because it’s too difficult to put into words.  But this time I will try. Musashi included it as his final Ring.  Sun Tzu wrote about it after his chapter on energy.  All I will say that for me, I let my flesh, energy and sex collapse into it, and I call it emptiness.

For me, I can’t do much better.

But for her, I can.

When she lies naked under the sheets.

When she is curled up like a babe.

When she has her hair in tumbles.

And all she can wear is her stupid little smile.

No words.

She is quiet.

This was what I am trying to communicate.  Being with a woman.  Ripping away her mind and her flesh, until I am given this.  I suspect most of the criticism pointed my way missed this point.  Oh well.

To me, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.  I pledged never to stop until I saw this for every moment of my life.  And that is why I decided to pursue this, that is why I fuck her mind.

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