She is constantly changing, like the sea—in breathtaking shades of turquoise, green, and deep, inky blue.
The sun and salt and sand weave through her smile as her eyes tell of storms.
She is not easy. Maybe she was guarded, intimidating, shy, or difficult to get to know.
Maybe you sense the depth and magic that lies beyond her walls, perhaps you hear the distant rushing of a 50-foot waterfall.
Don’t you just love it?
She is utterly multifaceted. Her layers are captivating and luscious, like a bold pink dahlia unfolding to reveal new angles of who she is and increased clarity of who she is not.
She’s learning. Maybe she fought incredible battles to be standing here today and she has the scars to prove it, both on her skin and heart.
For she is soft and fierce at the same time, like creamy white lace amidst the backdrop of a gritty city.
She has cellulite, wisdom, and curves. She has a huge capacity to care. And her laughter—oh, it spills out, soaking the surrounding hillside in its joyous radiance.
This is the sensuality of a woman.
It is not one thing—it is wild, sweet, and unfathomable. It is muddy and real, perfumed with truth. It trembles with something downright otherworldly that whispers like fresh purple buds unfurling under a fine dusting of snow.
So, if you want to love this woman like you know you can—take a deep breath and feel your body.
Are you ready?
This will be different. It is not about selfish pleasure.
This is about the art and magic of connection. So, if you’re not able to be all in—to commit, to show up for her in the storms and in the sun—then you won’t be able to love her like this, in the way she deeply desires.
You must begin with integrity in your heart. Let every taste and touch flow from here.
And, dear lover, if you forget all else, remember this—slow down. Slower is better.
Oh yes. In slowing down, a universe of sensations is born. There is so much more to feel.
Where there was a singular note in rushed, half-assed touches—an entire symphony blooms in lingering caresses to the soundtrack of hearts beating fiercely like drums.
But before any of that, look at her. See her. Feel her. Know her. Breathe her in.
And feel the vast tenderness, brave lover, that lies inside of you. Yes, you have so much to give.
Now you’re ready. So kiss her.
Kiss her with wildness, with echoing gentleness that ripples outward that time itself folds, then stands still—and all that’s left is grateful beauty buzzing between you two.
Don’t rush a thing.
Delight in exploring her heart, her mistakes, her joy and fire, her thighs, dreams, and the wrinkles tucked in the corners of her eyes…oh, there are treasures everywhere.
Read the expressions on her face like a map, and they’ll tell you when you’ve found something particularly wonderful.
This could go on for hours.
Then, when it’s time and not a moment before—make love to her like you are crying for the first time in years, like you are praying on bended knee, like you have just found something you thought you lost.
Make love to her like your soul reaches out to hers with the mist of your kisses as your hot breath combines while your bodies tangle, fusing elegantly together.
Go on an adventure!
This is the sensuality of a woman. Study it, learn it, cherish it.
For she is constantly changing, like the sea. Her heart is soaked with yearning—an endless thirst for the mysteries of this life, a longing to be loved like never before.
This is a thirst you share, dear lover.
And the truth is, there is nothing sexier than your longing for more—yes, more than ordinary romance where we crash into each other carelessly.
This is about knowing something Divine. This is about love. The kind of love that heals. But you know that already, don’t you?
So take her into your arms this instant.
Melt into her wanting lips with a kiss so enveloping that tears form at the corners of her eyes, raining down like tiny crystals to mix with your sweat and sadness and hope and curiosity.
What a delightful elixir. Drink it in and surrender to the ecstasy of it all.
This is so important.
Our world has lost touch with the incredible gifts of the feminine—softness, receptivity, sensuality, creativity, wildness, mystery, and intuition.
These are qualities we all need to embrace.
See this woman bloom in your arms.
Watch as she becomes even more alive. Let it move you.
This is the sensuality of a woman. It is a thousand things—it is wild and it is sweet, it is tender and plush, passionate, and intense.
It is lightning and it is life.
Behold the feminine.
She is not a lost treasure. She is right here—the earth beneath your feet. The warm breeze tickling your cheek. The emotions that crash as frothy waves in your heart. The mysteries that call—and the answers that can only be known in quiet moments.
This woman in front of you, she is magic.
See her. Feel her. Know her. Breathe her in.
For she is utterly fantastic and hard to explain—a prayer whispered through the fiery ruby lips of a sunset that gives way to the soft blue of dusk and speckled starlight.
Don’t you just love it?
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“lean in to kiss me
in all the places
where the ache
the most special.” ~
“Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
What primal night does Man touch with his senses?
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.” ~
“i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new.” ~ e.e. cummings