This is a journal entry from Friday, March 2, 2012
I did not go to into this morning's orgasmic yoga practice with very much energy. I came last night after fisting myself. But I went ahead and began without knowing what to expect.
After affirming my mission and purpose, I began massaging myself with coconut oil. I rubbed my chest, belly and thighs and let my erotic energy slowly build. I focused on my breathing. I rubbed some oil on my hardening cock, but didn't stimulate it immediately. As I began to include it, I avoided ejaculation producing strokes and focused on pleasure sensations. It was like playing in a meadow of pleasure instead of following a path of pleasurable release. The only difference is the direction of movement.
I found myself feeling much more energetic as I left one hand on my cock - tweaking the pleasure there while my other hand massaged other parts of my body and my breathing intensified. I began thrashing around, enjoying the full experience.
I caught a sense of masculine erotic energy. It's not something I'm usually in touch with and words don't evoke it. It's like cock and balls and pubic hair and musky masculine scent. It feels like my father. I wish I could communicate it, but even experiencing it is fleeting.
I let myself quietly appreciate my experience at the conclusion. It was good.
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