All Write, Already!

One night I ran a current through her. She hadn’t done electroplay before which made it all the more exciting to me. I ran the current through her and then bound her to the bed, and began lightly dragging my fingers over her body, feeling the slight hot tingle of electricity as I watched the little electric arcs find their way through the thin veil of air between my skin and hers. She twitched and squirmed.

The most exciting part was licking her, the tip of my tongue with little tendrils of blue-white light dancing from my tastebuds to her skin. Her body convulsed with every little spark, and her breathing became labored and intense. It had a synergistic effect with my own desire, but I savored the experience for as long as I could.

She and I had played many times in many ways, but this time she was more alive than ever before. More reactive, and completely and utterly vulnerable. I envied her in moments like these, because I could see by the ever-expanding whites of her eyes that she was more surrendered to this experience, more completely aware of this moment, than I had ever been of any moment in my entire life.

Men live in temples for their entire lives trying to attain the sense of oneness she had at this moment. And it was something I could create in her, but not myself. One of the cruel realities of the universe. But there was a part of that night that I remember only in images. Dark contours of flesh illuminated briefly by electric blue light.

And I always wonder what new ways technology can help me get a little closer to that sexual nirvana, the moment where you completely let go, you lose yourself entirely to the moment, and all that exists is the sensation, the connection, the chemistry, the electricity. Drugs. Toys. Tools that provide an atmosphere conducive to sexual unity. Sexual cybernetics.