A sliver of light crept into the room, illuminating the corner with a tiny swath of warmth. The velvet curtains were drawn and oppressive, yet within that ray I imagined happiness, maybe even spring bliss to come. Our lips, skin and bodies were eager and tumescent – like a crocus ready to burst on the scene.
The anticipation of those full lips melding with mine, or the squint of his eyes when he experienced pleasure, could draw me right over the edge. Yet I had to stay present in both patience and passion. His face glowed with virtues my senses desired. Determination, intelligence, trust, humility and a subversive sense of humor were all legible to anyone who truly observed. Savoring his essence and sex, both on full display, I lay basking and naked too, ready for total consumption and immersion into our pleasure pool.
We listened intently, taking turns with our eyes as neither dared to speak for fear of breaking the spell. Our gazes transmitted so many curiosities into the intensions and needs of our bodies. Initial embarrassment and fear had left the space, so that which remained was hot and inquisitive. Devoid of any real script, we were about to proceed and indulge.
The stage was set. We were warmed up, poised and ready for the performance to start. This participatory adventure needed both the audience and the performer to be in sync. No art exists without an audience.
His fingers touched the canvas forcefully, spreading the oil messily in all directions. The frantic fluids splattered over our bodies, inciting a riot of more juices flowing. Our erotic improv had begun to take flight.
He pulled me tighter and my hips swirled. The dance that had been awakened made my body come to life. We wrestled and explored, touching every curve and crevice. I passed my fingers over territory I longed to know intimately. I grabbed his tool firmly in an attempt to slow the utter abstraction of the process.
“For you,” he whispered, “sex is art.”
My eyes were quick to confirm his words and thoughts. Through his presence and intentions, I discovered volumes about his character. Now it was my chance to turn-on this appreciative audience, expressing my creative side. Our senses were set indefinitely to the ‘on’ position, taking in every sensation from this beautiful work in progress.
We passed the better part of a day and evening acting out on our desires. Tender yet sometimes aggressive, submissive and searching yet assured and lustful as most every polarity was explored. Only we two would see this performance and revel in the success of our interplay. And though I’ve tried, no words could ever capture the essence and emotions we savored within that amazing ‘scene one’ of the art of sex.
Image: Aura Rosenberg