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tantric transformation…

A mature person has the integrity to be alone. And when a mature person gives love, he gives without any strings attached to it: he simply gives. And when a mature person gives love, he feels grateful that you have accepted his love, not vice versa. He does not expect you to be thankful for it – no, not at all, he does not even need your thanks. He thanks you for accepting his love.

And when two mature persons are in love, one of the greatest paradoxes of life happens, one of the most beautiful phenomena: they are together and yet tremendously alone; they are together so much so that they are almost one. But their oneness does not destroy their individuality, in fact, it enhances it: they become more individual.

Two mature persons in love help each other to become more free. There is no politics involved, no diplomacy, no effort to dominate. How can you dominate the person you love? Just think over it. Domination is a sort of hatred, anger, enmity. How can you think of dominating a person you love? You would love to see the person totally free, independent; you will give him more individuality.

That’s why I call it the greatest paradox: they are together so much so that they are almost one, but still in that oneness they are individuals. Their individualities are not effaced – they have become more enhanced. The other has enriched them as far as their freedom is concerned.

Immature people falling in love destroy each others’ freedom, create a bondage, make a prison. Mature persons in love help each other to be free; they help each other to destroy all sorts of bondages. And when love flows with freedom there is beauty. When love flows with dependence there is ugliness.

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Rising in love means a learning, a changing, a maturity. Rising in love ultimately helps you to become grown-up. And two grown-up persons don’t quarrel; they try to understand, they try to solve any problem. Anybody who rises in love never falls from it, because rising is your effort, and the love that is grown through your effort is within your hands. But falling in love is not your effort.”

—Osho—

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this new day is too dear…

Beside me, warm from sleep, you roll over to gently place your waking mouth on my soft and dreamy nipples. Your warmth slowly traces me awake. It is this subtle stirring you seek:

The way my breath shifts from deep to shallow. The way my hips adjust, slightly pushing into your growing hard. The way your fingertips slip along sleep lines, tenderly imprinting your silent desire for me. The way my nipples sweetly harden enough for you to nibble and with my quiet moan, you feel my back arch, slipping my whole breast into your warm, wet mouth.

Such diffused urgency builds benevolence: the gift of these early hours. Neither feeling the need to think or be anything but untold tenderness.  When you breathe my skin under the covers, I taste you already between my legs.

Such simplicity opens us both to the other, to All That Is Possible. As you travel my length, I spread and swirl in slow motion; I want you to caress and hold me with hand and feet and lips and tongue and cock until all that is hard and wet and full uncoils within us like moany groans of ancient ships.

All the while, morning light streams through cracks. I watch my fingers slip through your hair and along your broad shoulders. I give myself to you. It is not long until I lift the covers and slip under with you; I too will taste the length of all your Pleasure.

Under cover of morning we will breathe in the other (and more) until heady with cum, we finally have the wherewithal to whisper “Good morning.”