The Gift Of Making Love

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I open my body to love’s flow the most when I open with you sexually. Usually my body is something I use—to work, to play, to get things done. But when I feel your body opening to mine, my body remembers love. Your sexual surrender awakens me to a depth of love I rarely feel in my body during any other time of the day. And through entering your heart and body with mine in love’s deepest bliss, I open together with you to God. Your pleasure of surrender blesses my life and opens me in ways that feel new and deeper every time we make love.

Your yearning attracts and inspires love. If you allow your deepest yearning to show through your entire body, you will attract and inspire a deep man. How would a deep man love you?

A deep man is acutely aware of death: his, yours, and everyone’s. Because he is always practicing to let go of everything, his consciousness is free, and he can be totally present with you. He can truly see you, he can feel your deepest heart, and he can enter you completely. As if this were his last moment on earth with you, he is unafraid to lose everything in his full offering of love.

Imagine that such a man were making love with you. He can feel his deepest purpose. Right now, he wants to open with you in utter heart surrender. From his deepest heart, he wants to enter you and take you open in love beyond all bounds. He gazes into your eyes and breathes with you, entering your heart fully, inhabiting your deepest heart’s yearning.

You can feel his presence opening you. His gaze penetrates into your heart’s hidden love. He offers you a concentrated invasion of divine presence. Love’s masculine presence enters you more deeply than you could open yourself.

You can still feel your man’s gaze holding your heart open deep, while his hand touches your body, gently, tenderly. Your breath deepens, and you can feel your man breathing with you. No part of you escapes his awareness. If your toe moves, he feels it. As your body shifts, he shifts with you, never letting you escape the claim of his full presence. He knows where to touch you and how to love you as he listens to your body’s ripples and heart’s response.

You don’t hold back. His tender touch and forceful gaze open your desire. You move to kiss him. He receives your kiss, but doesn’t stir. He smiles. You can feel him teasing you. You kiss him again, more forcefully. Again, he smiles and remains lovingly indifferent, although his gaze and touch continue to inhabit your every motion.

You can’t stand it anymore and you roll on top of him, yearning for his deeper entrance, longing to be taken by this man who feels you so deeply and unerringly. Your soft bellies breathe together as you gaze into each other’s eyes. His eyes seem endless, and yet they also seem steely, intense, laser-like. And suddenly he pounces—you are on your back and he pins you beneath him.

You gasp as his legs open yours. But he waits. He breathes with you. You can feel his hardness and the force of his belly against your belly, breathing with you, opening you with his full breath, in and out of your heart, his belly pressing into yours, his feet pinning yours to the bed, his hands holding your wrists. He gazes into your eyes.

He continues feeling his own death, your death, everyone’s death. He feels the preciousness of this moment, the delicate love at everyone’s heart, the gift of being born in the form of a man and woman. He feels love’s open depth living through him, living through both of your forms. He connects with your heart through his gaze, his belly pressing into you, breathing you. He is so present with you that you can’t help but open more deeply, surrendering beneath the weight of his heavy love, opening your legs to draw him in.

He looks down at your breasts. He smiles. You can feel him adoring your feminine form. He kisses your breasts, gently sucking your nipples, then gazing into your eyes. You know how it feels when a man gets distracted by your body, focusing on one part while forgetting that the rest of you exists. But this is very different. Your man’s adoration of your body is obvious, but so is his depth of feeling. He feels and loves your form, but he feels and loves deeper than your form, too.

His kisses feel more like poetry reaching into your heart, a love offering of his deepest heart—preciously tendered by his knowledge of inevitable death—emerging through his lips to worship your breasts and so much deeper. You allow your body to respond to his worship. You press your open thighs around him, offering yourself to him more passionately, moaning and pleading, “Please, please….”

As he enters you sexually, your surrender unfolds beyond words, and you speak in tones of incoherent pleasure in response to his claim. He is still tender, but more forceful, filling you, hard, with his claiming thrust. Your vagina opens deeper, and his openness continues to fill your body. Your whole womb and belly open with fullness, and your heart opens, and your throat and mouth open, sounds of love emerging. Your love opens beyond your man’s shape.

He stops moving. You open your eyes—you didn’t even know you had closed them—and his gaze penetrates into you as deep as his thrusts. His gaze is demanding, wanting more from you, more depth, more love. You love to feel his demand. His belly still breathes full against your belly, pressing into you. Like a faultless dancer, his movements anticipate yours. You feel inhabited by his presence; he knows your heart deeper than you do.

For pleasure, you resist. You try to push, get out of his grasp, escape his weight. But he keeps you pinned beneath him. You push and push and he doesn’t move, but enters you slowly, more deeply, filling your body and your heart while keeping you claimed to depth.

Then, you notice that his presence withdraws a bit. Is he thinking about something? Did you do something wrong? You free your wrist and dig your fingernails into his ass. That gets his attention. And now, as he looks into your eyes, he can feel your devotion, your yearning for more depth.

He realizes that his attention went shallow for a moment, but that your heart still waits deep. Your eyes softly plead for his deep entrance. You will not settle for less. If he goes shallow for even a fraction of a second, you awaken him present with your movements, a sound, or a slap. You offer your vulnerable heart to be taken by his claim. Your yearning is tangible. He can feel your heart’s longing in the way you open your legs to him, in the sounds you make, in your eyes.

Your yearning draws him deeper, and when his claim commands your heart, you surrender more fully. Together, you go open without end. He feels into you, giving you everything, filling you so much you can’t take any more, inhabiting your entire body, knowing your deepest heart’s yearning. He feels through you, feeling open and still expressing his love as if this were your last moment on earth together. His presence is so deep and stable—his worship of your form goes through your form to the very openness of the moment—and you naturally surrender open in total trust.

Nothing is left but love, breathing, living, and opening as all.

Dear Lover by David Deida

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