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The Yoni Dance

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A self-awareness story about life, love,
romance, and the intimate love arts.

Copyright  © 2001-2002   The Life Center   All rights reserved.     See:  Terms of Use

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Volume Two

Chapter Eleven

What's Good for the Goose. . .  

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I turn to Jezebel and say, “Thank you for staying with me during my sessions and during my discussion with Christina.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

I ask, “Are you ready to play some orgasmic games for yourself now?”

“Of course,” she says and then adds, "I've been having such a good time with you that I probably won't play very long or very intensely tonight."

I then ask, “What would you like me to do while you’re pursuing your pleasures?”

“I’d like you to do whatever you choose to do.   I would, however, welcome and enjoy your presence and, if you choose, your participation.”

“This sounds interesting.   Lead the way, my lady.”

Before we have a chance to get up, Bill, the drummer who earlier so enthusiastically supported Jezebel’s strip dance, comes in.   He comes directly to us and asks if he may join us.   We both welcome him.   He is quite forward and obviously not at all shy because he almost immediately asks if he can stroke himself while looking at Jezebel.   Jezebel looks at me, winks, turns back to him, and say’s, “Certainly.”

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Looking into My Fear Mirror:

I needn’t describe the physical details; however, as I sit back and look at what’s occurring before my eyes, I’m surprised at my emotional reactions.   I thought I’d be really cool and completely OK while watching Jezebel openly display her body and open her legs in front another man, but I’m not.   My logical mind says I should be.   After all, she was completely supportive of me earlier in the evening.

My mind also knows full well, that she’s not out hunting for another man to have a relationship with.   I know she wants me to be here beside her as she plays.   I know that she’s not sharing body fluids, doing anything that is in any way dangerous, or doing anything that could create a pregnancy or attract a disease.   I know that she has strong feelings for me, even though she hasn’t yet admitted to those feelings.   I know that she has been doing what she’s doing right now for about thirteen years.   And yet, the little kid inside of me still feels really threatened.

I become determined to sit with those feelings, to just be with them, and to notice what happens.   As I sit quietly and take several deep breaths, I notice that logic and reason are not at home here.   I’m in a space of my little-kid feelings.   So I bring the feelings home and tell myself, “Just for the next few moments, forget what’s physically going on beside me and in front of me.”   I close my eyes and ask myself,   “What am I really feeling?   What’s going on in here?”

Again, I’m surprised at the answer.  “Fear!   Fear of being abandoned.   Fear of being hurt.   Fear of loss.   And just plain, mindless FEAR!”

My mind reverts to a childhood memory.   I see and feel myself sitting on the back porch crying.   Sparky, my pet dog had recently died, and I remember not wanting another dog because I didn’t want to feel the pain of another possible loss if and when the new dog died.

I let the past go and return to my present moment.   I open my eyes and look at my hands and my body.   I get up, go to the full-length mirror at the end of the room, and look intently into the glass.   I see a full-grown, adult, human male looking back at me.

I know that turning love away today out of fear that it may one day go away is both dysfunctional and nonsense.   Of course I know that, but I’m still feeling what I’m feeling.   It then occurs to me that by being fearful I’m attracting more to be fearful about.   That thought sparks still another round of fear in me. pink shinny bullet 11-1 

I return to the couch and again sit beside Jezebel.   She smiles, places her hand on my leg, and pulls me toward her.   I slide closer.   I find her touch and her presence very reassuring.   I again close my eyes with a determination to just be with my fear and observe it.

In spite of feeling the couch moving and hearing the sounds I’m hearing, I soon find myself playing mind games with myself.   Still with my eyes closed, I imagine a pink elephant in front of me standing beside a large, pink box.   I take a mental paint brush and paint the word  F E A R  on the side of the box in wide lines of forest-green paint, then reach into my body, grab all the fear I can find and dump it into the box.

At that point, I remember hearing someone say F. E. A. R. stand for False Evidence Appearing Real.   I say to myself,  “That certainly seems to fit in this case,” so I imagine the elephant stomping on the box and then flushing the squashed box down his big, brown, pink-elephant toilet.   I then take an eraser and erase the toilet and put the elephant in my shirt pocket along with the eraser.

At about this point, I notice that I’m feeling silly and I’m not fearful any more.   I open my eyes and watch what is going on around me.   Immediately, I feel a twinge of fear.   I decide to just let it be, so I keep my eyes open and focus my attention on what’s happening near me.   Bill appears to be playing only on the physical level so the interaction does not last very long.   He has soon spends his pennies and shortly thereafter excuses himself to go to the shower.

As soon as he leaves, Jezebel turns to me and says, “Are you OK?”   I respond by telling her about my imaginary pink elephant and about my fear and how I reacted to it.   She’s completely supportive and understanding.   She also compliments me on the way I handled my emotional reactions, and we agree to have an in-depth discussion of this topic later.   Again, she asks me how I’m feeling.

With her support and understanding, I tell her I’m feeling good, and then I ask about her.   She says she’s just getting warmed up and would like to partake of a real sexual sharing.

“I respond to her with, “A real sexual sharing?  What would you call what you just did?”

She says, “That was the CLIC equivalent to, and pretty much along the lines of, what some women would call a sympathy fuck.   Although his heart is in the right place and he’s reasonably attractive, Bill just doesn’t know how to relate to women.   With the exception of the woman he came here with, he has a very difficult time relating to women at all.   I feel sorry for him, and so, occasionally, I’ll help him relieve his frustrations.   It makes him feel good, brings him contentment, and it costs only a few minutes of my time.”

“A sympathy fuck!   What a novel idea.   Jazz, you really are a special lady.”   We both laugh as we get up and head for the shower.   For the next few minutes, I think about the compassion and generosity it must take to do what she just did.   I wonder if I would be able to do likewise if such a situation ever arose.

“Jazz?”

“Yes.”

“If Bill is such a nerd, why is he invited to Christina’s CLI Circles?”

“Because his other talents more than make up for his shortcomings.”

“Talents such as?”

“He’s gentle, kind, protective, very caring, always helpful and completely harmless.   He also works for Christina and Charlie.   They look out for him and keep him on the right track, and in turn, he’s a dependable and dedicated employee.

“A win/win relationship.”

“Definitely.   Do you recall hearing him on the drums earlier?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Well, he may lack social skills, but wait till you hear him at the piano.   He’s a master pianist."

“Does he play professionally?”

“No, his personality prevents him from doing much with his musical talent.”

“That’s unfortunate."

“Not really.   It’s just a more obvious example of the way life is for all of us.   With Bill, the difference is that his weak side is rather obvious, while, for most of us, our weak sides are much more hidden.   How many people do you know of who are masters in one area and klutzes in other areas?”

“Now that you mention it, that’s quite common.”   I recall Karen Carpenter, a woman with the singing voice of an angel, killing herself via anorexia."

Jezebel continues, “Mastery and complete dysfunction commonly reside in the same human being.   Rare is the person whose life is balanced and wholesome in all areas.” pink shinny bullet 11-2    

“So Jazz, how about us?   Where are we bumbling fools?”

“I’d like to reserve that topic for another time and another place.”

“And so it shall be.”

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It’s Play Time:

We wash and play in the shower for a few minutes and then go out and literally jump into the swimming pool together.   I’m feeling really good now and say, “Let’s go and find some real sexual sharing for you.”

We exit the pool, dry ourselves off, and go to the meeting room in the converted barn.   There we encounter Harvey and his companion Mary who are watching a couple playing on the swing.   We start talking with them about the swing and in the course of our conversation, the two women offer to indulge in their sexual-self-play as Harvey and I watch.

We both agree.   Harvey and I pull chairs up in front of a couch at the side of the room and place towels over the couch and chairs.   Jezebel and Mary sit on the couch, and Harvey and I take the chairs.   We socialize for awhile sharing information about ourselves and listening to some personal information about the others present.   I share briefly about my recent session and say I may or may not be a full-fledged, active participant during our sexual sharing.   Everyone indicates that they’re OK with this.

When the sexual play begins, I find that in spite of having two sexually attractive, naked women masturbating in front of me, I’m only semi-sexually excited about what is physically transpiring.   I’m still in the afterglow of my lingam massage, and although I’m very interested in watching them, I find that I’m more content to watch than to participate.

Jezebel, being her wonderfully enticing self, easily inspires Harvey’s libido and he rather quickly excites himself past the point of no return.   Jezebel and Mary continue to stroke themselves while Harvey and I watch.   I find myself becoming aroused and assist that arousal with my hand until I notice that two other couples are standing behind Harvey and me watching us.   I become self-conscious and return to being only an observer.

Mary soon peaks to orgasm and then lies back watching Jezebel who appears to be in her glory displaying herself in front of an audience.   She flows into a stream of ecstatic experiences that lasts about three to four minutes and then lies back smiling contentedly.   

I move to the couch, sit beside Jazz, put my arm around her, and pull her close to me.   She responds by snuggling up close.   "Thanks," she says.   Mary and Harvey soon leave and we both sit quietly for the next ten minutes just being with each other.

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Another Surprise:

For most of the people present, including both Jezebel and me, sexual desires fades into the background, and much to my surprise, the evening becomes a social event like one might expect at a party where clothing was worn by all present.   There is, however, one very significant difference — nobody here is trying to get into anybody else’s pants.   Although neither Jezebel nor I are overtly sexual for the remainder this evening, we are very close and the sensual contact between us is welcomed, warm and quite loving.  

It occurs to me that other than Jezebel’s strip dance, I’ve completely missed the sex theater.   I didn’t see the couple making love and didn’t witness, nor did I participate in, the simulated intercourse.   When I ask Jezebel to describe the simulated intercourse to me, she says, “If you insist, I will describe it to you; however, I suggest that you either take it in kinesthetically as a personal experience or visually by watching a demonstration.”   I decide to follow her suggestion.  

I find that most people present have known each other for some time, and although I’m a newcomer, their friendliness inspires me to feel very comfortable in their company.   In the living room, Bill plays the piano while those interested sing along.   I hear a couple of very beautiful voices along with some other voices that are about as musical as a furniture factory.   Everyone is having such a good time that nobody seems to care about voice quality.

The swing in the barn turns out to be the most popular attraction.   Had I not been at a social event, I could have easily gotten onto the swing and drifted off into sleep or gone to who knows where.   As it was, I spend relatively little time in the swing.

In spite of my commitment to set my reporter self aside and just be here, I find myself becoming attracted to a discussion group that has gathered in the Jacuzzi pool.   

Setting the Context

The next chapter actually has no direct bearing on our story about the CLI Circles other than to provide another view of life form somewhere higher up on the mountain than the point from which we usually view life.   So, if you’re reading this book primarily for  the CLIC content, then please, skip chapter twelve.

However, since the intention of this book is to assist you in seeing life from a new and broader perspective, I recommend that a some point you do read it.   Just be aware that it comes from a state of mind that is rather different from the sensual/sexual joys of CLI Circles.

End of Chapter Eleven ---  What's Good for the Goose. . .  

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 Take Me to Chapter 12 -- The Not-so-great Pretender

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pink shinny bullet 11-1  According to The Universal Law Of Attraction, we attract into our lives whatever we focus our thoughts on.   See The Yoni Dance, Volume One, Chapter Fourteen.  

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pink shinny bullet 11-2  Every one of us has areas where we’re skilled and other areas that are much less than ideal.   Here are some examples:  The intellectual genius, Albert Einstein, had a tough time taking care of his personal appearance.   Eventually he gave up.   That’s why pictures of him show his hair looking like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks.

Andrew Carnegie, the richest man in the world in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, was so completely out of touch with human decency that he required his employees to work under very dangerous conditions and to lived in poverty.

Janis Joplin, Elvis Presley, John Baluchi, each a master in their respective fields, all died of drug overdoses.      

J. Edgar Hoover, who was, for decades, the nation’s chief law enforcement officer, engaged in criminal activity in order to maintain his power and position as head of the FBI.   Publicly, Hoover was a homophobic, but his private life was something else.   Here's a quote from a historian about Hoover:  "If he wasn't a homosexual, he gave a good imitation of someone who was."

How many so-called moral preachers of sexual abstinence have been caught in the sexual activities that they so vehemently preached against.   How many hundreds more simply haven’t been caught?

Regarding judging or condemning others, here's are two quotes to keep in mind:  1)  "I'm so busy taking care of my own life that I don't have time to play God is someone else's."  2) "What I see and condemn in someone else is only a mirror of what I refuse to acknowledge within myself."

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The Yoni Dance

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Copyright  © 2001-2002   The Life Center  

All rights reserved.     See:  Terms of Use

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Yoni Dance - Book Two - Chapter Eleven 

   What's Good for the Goose. . .

http://www.yonidance.net/yd-bk-two-ch11.html

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