Last night was my first “body” experience.

I took some coconut oil and I warmed it on my skin and slid it across my body, gliding at times when there was an abundance of it, and noticing the friction as it was absorbed and distributed into my flesh.

My nipples were so hard. I placed my right hand on my pubic bone and grounded and centered myself before embarking on the exploration of my body, My left hand cupped my right breast, my nipple manipulated between my thumb and forefinger. It was so rough and wrinkled and sensitive all at the same time.

My breast itself was so heavy. The shape of it has changed with the loss of excess fluid in my body. It’s a “handful” now. And what a handful. The weight of my breast was actually sexy to me. Just the weight of it. I held it, not imagining that it was anyone other than myself experiencing this moment with myself. No fantasy. No distraction.

Me, my grasp and my breast. And the nipple. Oh my goodness, what a glorious thing.

I moved both hands to my stomach and crossed my arms as though I were in a long embrace. I drew them across my body, stretching the back muscles and seeking out my pelvis bones and ribs. Feeling the interior of my body from the exterior was an existential experience. I whispered to myself my appreciation for this journey.

At first the touch was firm, and then fleeting. I used contrast in touch to teach my body that all of it can be felt and feel erotic or sensual. I have only felt the hands of others on my body. All of my life. My memory of my body in my mind is one of being explored, manipulated and loved by someone else.

When I think of my thigh, I think of the nubby ball my massage therapist uses in massages. When I think of my neck, my chiropractor's hands are cradling my chin and skull in preparation of an adjustment. Karen’s pressure on my feet as she does Foot Massage… Daves’s hands on my back and buttocks. Everyone touches me, except me.

Now it’s my turn. Exploring, poking, entering, slipping in and out. In and Out. Around. Fingertips, the palm of my hand. Every nerve ending has a reaction. 

Pressure? Light or heavy? 

Breath? A whisper? 

What’s next?

The energy moves through my body, circling up my spine and down my sternum. The connection made when my tongue touches the back of my front teeth. The electricity flows without interruption, building in intensity and then my tongue dis-engages; breaks the connection and the energy disperses throughout my limbs, out again to my fingertips where the touch initiated.

I feel the pulsing of my body in my toes. The warmth envelopes my body as it climbs, like vines around my calves, the back of my knees… reaching my inner thighs and then back to the center of me where it was born.

The sense is that of the shore. A lap of ocean licking and teasing my senses and then retreating, only to return with a little more intensity, taking me fractionally closer. I barely notice it’s reach, but I know it’s there.