Hee. I’m more vulnerableshysensitivedelicate than I appear. But I am so grateful that I could help you let out that breath. That expiration as bell hooks would call it. G-d I miss you. I miss you so much.

And you’re right that I write about sex all the goddamn time and it’s fine! It’s fine; it really really is. But more than that it’s empowering. It’s liberating. And it’s healing. It’s nourishing. And it’s educating. And it’s always new. Every single time.

I don’t think I could keep it all inside if I tried. Not at this point. Not anymore. Not after tasting the sweet freedom that comes after the exhalation. There is that tiny gap at the end of the outbreath, the one that they taught us about in meditation class, and there is samadhi and there is orgasm and bliss and cum and ejaculate.

Sometimes there’s nothing better than being covered in your own blood, your lover’s cum flooding you like water from the spring of eternal youth. Sex is raw and messy and ungraceful and exquisite and godly all at once. Just like humanity.

I’m addicted. I couldn’t give it up. Not at this point. Not if I tried.

But I’ll tell you a secret… right now, most of my blood is mental, too. I’ve been sick, M, you know that… and so there’s been no fuck-space but the one between my ears; there’s been no fuck-space but the scenes I can paint in my mind, or the ones I can appropriate from others and tack my own fantasy onto. And you know what? I’ll take it. It’s delicious and raw and sassy and full of lust. And I don’t mind mental-blood one bit.

Of course, it does help to have friendly sadists (you know, the type that hug with their teeth) around to pull me out of my head and back into my body when I really really really need it or want it or crave it (or they do) (or just for fun!). Love you so much. *giggles*

And I’m glad you write about it. I just wrote a post in my blog(!) all about sex – and was initially embarrassed about it and who might read it. But then I was like, “shit, Carly writes about sex all the time, it’s fine! People can deal!” and then I felt better.

So. In honor of you, here it is: http://anotherunprofessional.blogspot.com/2009/11/mars-in-aquarius-reading-nancy-friday.html. You’ve got Mars in Capricorn, with that silky trine to Mercury in Virgo – and your language is so rich and physical. Touchable & fuckable, like by an actual person. So that infuses your writing. Me on the other hand, Mars in Aquarius. I’ll let you decide what that means.

The post might not be your thing, but since you were involved in it, I wanted to share. All my love!