REALLY LOVE A WOMAN: STROKE HER SACRED SECTOR- Internet radio show & article

» Posted by on Aug 10, 2012 in Love, Tantra | 0 comments

For the internet RADIO show, click

For the article, excerpted from the Lessins’ paperback, How to Really Love a Woman by Dr. Sasha and Janet Kira Lessin
http://www.schooloftantra.net/Store/Books/HowToReallyLoveAWoman.htm

For relevent anantomical drawings, click
http://www.schooloftantra.net/articles/genitalchakra/G_spot_massage5_fathom_female_features.htm
***

Tell your Receiver, “Relax on your back, Sweetheart. Breathe deeply.

“Let me gaze into your eyes.

“If you like, I’ll massage, then kiss your genital drapes and the valence over your pearl.”

If she says yes, say, “Make sounds and direct me with words; give me feedback while I lick and stroke.”

Lightly stroke her outer labia. Gently roll her clitoral hood around the clitoral crown; but don’t directly stimulate the crown yet. When her outer vaginal lips swell, revealing the inner lips, softly trace circles, spirals, horizonals, verticals, diagonals, and figure-eights on them with your fingers. Alternate long, short, inventive, sensitive and playful strokes. Lightly tap, knead and pinch the hood and labia ten or fifteen minutes.

When the inner labia also become quite swollen with blood, say, “Would you like me to polish your pearl?” (pearl = clitoral crown). If yes, honor her yoni with your mouth and tongue. Blow on her genitals. Plant baby kisses on her clitoris. Twill your tongue round the crown and lick her labia. Lap softly into her yoni as you continue gazing into her eyes. Salivate generously; lubricate the orifice.
After twenty to thirty minutes honoring her yoni, say, “I’d like to enter your sacred cave with this (right ring) finger.” If she agrees, lick your finger so it’s quite moist (or use an internal lubricant like Probe or neem oil). Place the tip of your ring finger pad just inside her vaginal opening. Say, “Pull my finger in.” When you feel her vaginal muscles pulsing on your finger, let her pull your finger into her cave. Curl your finger pad inside her yoni toward her navel then back toward her inner legs, so it rests gently against her sacred sector. Breathe together and keep your hand still for ten deep breaths while you imagine that your finger lovingly reaches inside her to her heart.

Begin a light “come here” motion with your ring finger; let the pad of your finger caress the tissue that covers the sacred sector. Slowly and softly trace, in thirty to forty strokes, the inner surface of the top and upper front of her cave from cervix toward the top of her cave’s opening.

Then, for forty strokes or so, turn your wrist from side to side. Trace a crescent over the sacred sector with your finger pad.

Sweep (turn your wrist from up to down) the left half of her cave. Slowly skim the front of your right ring finger from the cave roof to its floor and outside door. Remove your right ring finger and insert your left ring finger inside her yoni. With your left ring finger, stroke the right half of the yoni roof.

After a few minutes, change your position to ease your back and neck. Withdraw your left ring finger from her cave, and put your right ring finger back in. Rub, tap, and touch all over inside her cave. Stroke different levels of pressure, depths, speeds and rhythms. Trace the throbbing veins and, deeper, arteries. Press gently to the bone in each part of her cave.

After fifteen minutes, say, “Would you like me to pet you with two fingers inside?” If she consents, curl the underside of your right middle and ring fingers together along the roof-beam of her yoni. Move your finger and down the transom over the door and out the yoni, with a “come here” motion.

Then focus your fingers inside her on her sacred sector. You can feel it through the inner vaginal wall, between the wall and the pubic bone, above the orifice. The sacred sector may feel like a bean-sized lump that may grow to silver-dollar size as you stroke it. Or there may be no distinctive lump of tissue, just a generalized sensual area around the urethral sponge. Initially, when her sacred sector’s stimulated, she may think–though she’s just emptied her bladder–she needs to urinate. Let her try to do so until no urine comes out.

Unite your fingers through her lower abdomen. Press your left hand down on her lower belly just above the pubic bone. Feel her sacred sector swell between these fingers on her abdomen and those in her vagina.

Move your head from side to side; alternate stretching out on your belly with drawing your knees under you to prevent back and neck pain. Either pain can distract you from your role as Giver.

Your Receiver may enjoy all the touching. Some Receivers feel indifferent to sacred sector massage at first. Most women, however, savor some sacred sector stroking. Remember your Receiver’s pleasure points.

A Receiver may block pleasure, orgasm and ejaculation. If she tenses, numbs or burns at your touch, encourage her to free associate, to remember touch, sex and times that traumatized or closed her down emotionally and sexually. She may have past life memories or fantasies. She may yell, cry, laugh or make strange sounds.

Tell her, “Let your feelings out, Sweetheart.” Hold her while she screams, sobs and says what she needs to say to each person she thinks hurt or neglected her.

If she’s angry at you, say, “Say it louder. Let me know how mad I make you.” Stay centered.

Ask her to fantasize and roleplay redoing the painful, humiliating or inappropriate scenes that traumatized her; keep your fingers lightly on the area that stimulated her catharsis. Enact the part of her father, mother or boyfriend the way she wished they were in the scene she recalled.

When she relaxes again, move your fingers to and from the area that stimulated the painful memories and an area that felt good when touched. Let your fingers stimulate these two areas till she says she enjoys touch both places.
***

ENCOURAGE EJACULATION

When she recognizes, releases and creates alternative outcomes paired with pleasure, she’ll likely orgasm (spasmodically contract her vagina). She may simultaneously ejaculate–dribble or squirt (a few cubic centimeters to several ounces) amrita, divine nectar clear or slightly milky, sweet- tasting, alkaline fluid from her urethra.

Breathe with her; stroke her, make sounds with her. When says she feels like she’s about to ejaculate, say, “Push out on your uterus, like you’re delivering a baby.”

Don’t pressure her to ejaculate. It’ll happen when she’s ready–if not this date, then on subsequent dates in the weeks or months to follow.

When she does ejaculate, tell her, “You’re beautiful,” “I love you,” “You’re coming into your power,” and other affirmations. These affirmations imprint powerfully as she ejaculates.

Gather some of her amrita on your left hand. Taste it. Say, “Yum.” Dab some on her lips so she can taste how sweet it is. Keep your right hand in her yoni. Hold her close.

After several minutes, with added lubricant, very carefully (to prevent tearing the now-desiccated tissue), withdraw your fingers. But keep your hand on her yoni, outside. Lie next to her and hold her tight.

Make no demands, (explicit or implicit) upon her to satisfy you sexually. On this date, she’s the Receiver. If she wants other sexual experiences with you and you’re amenable, give them; but let her initiate.
***

SACRED SECT0R STIMULATION: One Receiver’s Experience by Janet Kira Lessin

The following is a very personal and true story. I tell it so that others may realize the importance of sacred sexual healing and how it can transform lives, and in my cases like mine, even save them.

Little did I know the story that would unravel from my being when I embarked upon my tantric path. I had become “short” with my live-in; snapped at every little thing, then became remorseful and apologetic that I was so ill-behaved. I knew I was stressed, with both my parents precariously lying at deaths’ door. My sister called and it looked as though Mom would be the first to go. “Get home quick“, she said with panicked urgency in her voice.

My partner was an alcoholic with abusive episodes increasing in frequency. I loved him, yet realized I was enabling him and was afraid we would end up some kind of statistic on the front page of the newspaper. I took a boyfriend as refuge, part from my own personal need and part from pity as he was “impotent” from being dumped by his girlfriend, who was also my best friend. Janice had made her grand escape from our Hawaiian paradise to Alaska. Alaska? I guess it made sense to her.

Tantra had been a “buzz” word that had been echoed in my ears for a number of years. Even boyfriend number two had suggested we go to a tantra workshop, at the pre-intensive, at the poly conference. I pooh-poohed it. “I don’t have the money“, I declared.

Fate had another plan. July came, the money “materialized” magically, out of thin air, and soon I found myself on the way to meet my destiny. “The Gods must be crazy“, I thought, but who was I to question them?

To make a long story short, I found myself sitting across from the tantra teacher and through another series of unlikely events that all feel into place with divine precision, we fell in love, we made love, I moved in, we married; all by the first week of October.

And Mother hovered near death. And I fought harder to repress an increasingly nagging, subconscious irritation. “What is repressed soon becomes demonic”, the saying goes. I was about to discover how true it was.

I remember how I cried when I was first asked permission to be touched. I recall being totally confused when a tantric lover paused from honoring me (the tantric word for licking the vagina and clitoris), and asked me if he could put on a condom and enter me. I said, “Yes, no, yes, no”, and finally a very firm “NO” after a momentary pause to think about what I really wanted. I felt so honored, respected. Until then, I was just “seduced”, and it was assumed that I approved or was ready for touching.

One of my early sacred spot sessions with Sasha touched upon an initial issue. During his honoring of me, he encountered a spot about “6 o’clock” inside my vagina which was an “owee”. “What associations do you have with that pain?” he asked.

I closed my eyes, searched deep within myself. I dismissed the first answer that came to my mind. “Oh, this is too silly, it can’t be“, I said.

My Judge had come forth. My Critic was about to censor my words. “Just tell me, it’s not silly“, Sasha encouraged.

When I was small, we used to come home for lunch from school. We didn’t have a lot of time to travel, eat, then get back up the hill to school. I would always have to poop and my diet was so poor when I was a child, that I was constipated. My mother would yell outside the bathroom door, “hurry up, you’re going to be late for school“, and I would painfully force myself to go, if I could. Sometimes I would just cry, it would not come out, and my mother would let me stay home and say I was “ill” with an absentee excuse the next day. It was so embarrassing. I had forgotten about all of that until now.

Sasha listened and did not make fun of me. “Interesting“, he replied.

I was no longer tense. My body had relaxed and let go of an ancient pain, an old shame. Sasha moved his hand inside my yoni (vagina).

“There, now how does that feel? Is it still painful in that spot? How about here? No? Now how does it feel here?”

Amazingly, the pain was gone! And I felt free, light! No, I realized, there was more. I felt lighter, but not totally light.

Right before Christmas I received the call. “Mom died today. She’s gone”, my sister reported. It was over. My house was full of holiday company. A couple was on their way to our home to do therapy. I cried for a bit as Sasha held me. My company said politely, “I’m sorry for your loss“. All too soon, a knock came to the door. The couple in trouble was here for our help. I pulled myself together and amazingly I was there for them. “You can mourn later”, I told myself.

I couldn’t afford to go home to Pennsylvania for the funeral. On top of that, I had so many coming from the mainland. We live in Maui and when the cold weather comes in “the states”, many want to escape to Paradise. Sasha had just spent a year on the road, in exile during a bitter divorce settlement, and had accumulated many “lodging debts” that now demanded reciprocity.

I was newly married and in a new relationship, living in a new home on a new island. On top of it all, we defined ourselves as “polyamorists” as well. I had never been actively poly, only toyed with the philosophy and had basically had affairs and cheated. There were many adjustments for me. Besides, I couldn’t leave Sasha alone to handle all these people by himself now could I? “Pleaser” had come in an taken front and center stage big time.

We had a “date” with Sasha’s long time lovers, Coyote & Rose, two days later. “Should we cancel?”, we pondered due to me being in mourning. “No, I’ll be ok“, I decided.

The “catalyst” for what was to happen next arrived. The scene was set. I liked her immediately. I felt such warmth and love radiating from this delicious being. What a goddess. But there was something about him I just couldn’t put a finger on. I wasn’t not just uninterested and not attracted, but I was downright repulsed. Poor Coyote. He had done nothing to me, he was quite sweet, with gentle energy and kind eyes.

Sasha was honoring me. I was going very deep into the sensations. He focused on me for what seemed like hours. I became one with my body after so many years barely there. I felt all the levels, subtleties and intensities of the different types of orgasms. My mind raced with stories as I sank deeper and deeper into altered states of consciousness, carried there by my beloved devotee who worshiped at my shrine.

All of the sudden, I felt violently ill. I raced to the toilet to vomit. I expelled the “poison”. Sasha came into the bathroom and supported me. Janice, my sister of life also so happened to be there with me. Circumstance had returned her to my side, for this crucial episode.

It all came back to me as my body convulsed and I wretched to free “it” from my throat. “Oh my God! Tom! Oh my God, he’s raping me. He’s choking me with his lingam. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Help, someone help. He’s killing me! Oh my God, someone please stop him, he’s killing me!”

The memory of the rape of four year old Janet came forth from the deep recesses of my subconscious mind. My mother had a boyfriend she made love with while my father was at work. We would all sit around naked after their lovemaking and laugh. I was a precarious toddler who ran between them. One day, I slipped and feel into Tom’s lap, my young lips brushing past his lingam.

I became embarrassed for some unknown reason and ran to my mother. She laughed and held me, reassured me all was fine. I ran back to Tom and he reached for me. I laughed and ran lovingly into his arms, only to be betrayed.

He shoved my face, my mouth over his huge, erect lingam. He became excited and thrust mercilessly, deep into my tiny, little-girl mouth. I had polyps in my nose from allergies and I couldn’t breathe properly. I wasn’t getting enough air! I was choking! He was tearing my mouth with the force! He ejaculated. I couldn’t breathe! “HELP!” I was drowning. “HELP!” I was passing out. “HELP!” I was out of my body. I was dead.

I hovered and watched the scene from the ceiling of the room. My mother had been beating on Tom, and he simply ignored her in his lust. I collapsed and hung like a limp doll as he smiled and went “hmmmmmm” with blissful delight.

The focus finally shifted to me. Tom had became aware that he harmed me and began to respond. But it was too late. They both worked feverishly to revive me, but neither of them had the slightest knowledge of CPR. My mother screamed hysterically, “You’ve killed my baby, you’ve killed my baby girl”. Tom smacked her and somehow calmed her, at least for that moment.

“Let’s call Marty, I can hear him next door working in the yard” Marty, the neighbor responded, came over and seemed to know more about CPR. At least he wasn’t as distraught as the two perpetrators.

He struggled with my body for a while, but his efforts were fruitless. I looked in amazement at all the fuss below. As they talked, I “noticed” my body and zoomed over to it, I in my etheric body. I’ll never forget how I looked as I looked down at the form that was myself. It was as though I was a rag doll, and was deposited on the floor as such. My left arm was cocked over my head in a 90 degree angle. My right arm was twisted behind my back. I lay face down with my shoulder-length mousy hair all matted up. I remember that I was curious, but I don’t recall any other emotions that I felt.

“You two have to turn yourselves into the police”, Marty whispered softly. “She’s gone, June. Face it, she’s dead, ” Marty told my Mother.

My mother let out a piercing wail. She screamed “No, no, no, no, no!!” The two men calmed her the best they could. After a long discussion, they made the decision to call the police. They turned to leave the room.

Time stood still at that moment. From behind my right shoulder, my “guides” came to take me across. They spoke to me in symbols and words not translatable into human language. The showed me the alternative future histories of what was to come if I decided to stay with them. I love I felt was 100 times any love that humans are capable of feeling here on this plane. It was truly “bliss”, truly “heaven”.

In one scene they showed me how my mother would be in jail. In another scene, how she would finally end up in a mental institution. They showed me how my family would suffer, how my father, brother and sister would react and feel ashamed and never quite recover from the loss of their little sister.

Despite the peace and beauty of all that was offered to me, I didn’t give any of that a second thought when I saw what would happen if I remained dead. I no sooner could think, “No thank you, I’m staying here on Earth” when I found myself rushed back into my body.

I was fully charged with the love of the divine light. I was energetically still in that next dimension. As I snapped back into place, the force of my return caused my body to bolt upright to a standing position. My chakras all glowed–my aura intensified with a bright, Christ-like light! “Hello!” I declared with a big shit grin on my face. I was alive, happy, joyous having just touched the face of God himself!

Tom, June and Marty all turned in their tracks at the doorway. They were totally shocked as they now saw me alive after nearly 45 minutes of being dead. They all three screamed and bolted out of the room like they had just seen a ghost! They had, and it was me.

I said to myself, “Wow, look what I did to the adults” and giggled. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I had been vibrating at such an intensive level, and rapidly returned to the third dimensional plane. The rhythm of this plane was drastically different than the other. I found my way to my bed before I passed out on the floor. I fell into a deep slumber and I forgot what happened for almost 40 years. Hours later, my mother cautiously crept back into my room and saw my sleeping form.

Sasha stayed with me and continued to process until the wee hours of the morning. I was completely destabilized. What I had thought was my life, was my childhood was all rewritten and had taken on a new meaning. With my mother’s death, my psyche had felt “safe” to reveal what laid within.

Poor Coyote. He and Rose had come over to make love with us and here I was going into all this drama. He didn’t know why I reacted to him so negatively. The reason I responded to him that way was that he resembled my perpetrator, with a bald head and large ears! My logical mind knew this was a nice person. My inner child was in panic: “Run away, run away fast“, she screamed to me.

Like the layers of an onion, my healing process has just begun, with many levels to go. Even with this memory released, catharsis was only the first step. A few weeks later we “rewired” my primal brain with an alternative program during a Holotropic Breathwork session. But that story is for another time.

I never did quite resolve things 100% with Coyote. We did manage to go another layer deeper, connect, make love, if only for a brief time. He and Rose are gone now from our lives. Perhaps forever. They did not like “processing”. Alas, my processing has only begun.

Sasha and I continue on our journey. I am grateful for his love, devotion and support. I am hopeful that I can now live a full life, free of my internal tortures which affected my health, my life expectancy and my happiness.

I hope in the telling of this intensely, personal story that others may see the avenues to their personal healing. Tantra is a valuable tool of love for the healing of others, for greater depth and intimacy, for sustaining pleasurable sexual connections throughout the duration of any relationship, not just in the early years, but until death do us part.

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