Our Lives As Genitalia

Our Lives As Genitalia

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Our Lives as Genitalia: A novel with an intense beating erotic main theme.It is subtitled: Signatures from between our legs, aroused by sex, penetrated by memory, yet screwed by the mind to always confront life in the present. The narrative begins as a series of erotic driven encounters but they all ripple back through later relationships in time, place and memory. It seems in the coupling moment that pleasure ignited by pleasures ignition remains uncomplex pleasure for two. However, memory tattoos even seemingly casual sex under our skin. It will meander back through association. The central crux of the story is reflective in its sensual unfolding: we are left with lingering consensual sexual memory. To sum up; the story is best described as thinking erotica unfolding a deep romantic core and the better side of our human nature; though in the heat of racy randy coupling and later separation; this is the last thing on our mind and that’s okay and the story lingers repeatedly in those intense pleasurable memorable moments of life and asks the reader to do the same...our lives as genitalia. The insight devoid of ego may come eventually. An erotic romance novel in forty chapters

Summary

Our Lives as Genitalia: A novel with an intense beating erotic main theme.It is subtitled: Signatures from between our legs, aroused by sex, penetrated by memory, yet screwed by the mind to always confront life in the present.

The narrative begins as a series of erotic driven encounters but they all ripple back through later relationships in time, place and memory. It seems in the coupling moment that pleasure ignited by pleasures ignition remains uncomplex pleasure for two. However, memory tattoos even seemingly casual sex under our skin. It will meander back through association.

The central crux of the story is reflective in its sensual unfolding: we are left with lingering consensual sexual memory.

To sum up; the story is best described as thinking erotica unfolding a deep romantic core and the better side of our human nature; though in the heat of racy randy coupling and later separation; this is the last thing on our mind and that’s okay and the story lingers repeatedly in those intense pleasurable memorable moments of life and asks the reader to do the same...our lives as genitalia.

The insight devoid of ego may come eventually.

An erotic romance novel in forty chapters

Chapter40 (v.1) - Sleeeping Together

Author Chapter Note

The present: Luke's fuller understanding of our lives as genitalia. Luke makes 'love' to Rhea. The End.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 23, 2015

Reads: 421

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 23, 2015

A A A

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Chapter Forty: SLEEPING TOGETHER

I wake early as usual, but instead of a coffee, I go to the bay window and look over the sleeping city and across the meandering river. I return to bed and Rhea rolls over instinctively, still in a heavy sleep. She nestles again into my shoulder in preference to the pillow. She has her dreamy, comfortable, sleepy glow. And I whisper to her like a lullaby as her hand searches for my chest:

“Yes, sweetheart I’m back,” I say. “I’ve been on a very long journey. No, I haven’t left our home. I’ve been in my mind trying to understand our life and our memories. It was a close call. I nearly fell trapped into self. I savoured the allure of the past and went very deep into it. Sexual memory is very compelling. I’ve brought some company though, reminiscences from my life as genitalia. They have nowhere else to go. They are the phantom fragments I carry of other women’s lives as genitalia and beyond; embedded in my memory like I am in theirs. We can’t deny each other citizenship in memory.”

I snuggle in closer to Rhea.

“They won’t disturb us. They rest soundly for now. The present moves and grows with memory. Forgive the occasional restless sleep by me, as I know I will travel again to a street corner. I failed love once. I’m in an equilibrium now with my residual ambivalent moments of love. I’ve learned too; love’s resilience knows no boundaries.”

The moment pulls me gently forward. Rhea’s hand rests over my chest in her partial sleep. I hold her hand. In this moment, this is me, this is her, and this is ours. We can ask no more.

And we are no more. This is stated dramatically in Louise Bourgeois’ bronze sculpture Janus Flueris where male and female genitals are analogous, conjoined, nearly hermaphrodite, but visibly separate but forming one mass of flesh together. Two penis forms flank a central vaginal shape covered in pubic hair. Genuine earth mother solidness is the central focus and the female genitalia as fertility symbol is similar to the human essentialism explored by Georgia O’Keeffe. Basically, the sculpture moulds male and female into one, the endless quest of our lives as genitalia.

Janus, the Roman God faced towards the past and towards the future like we all do. Here our Janus face seeks its male or female equivalent, and as a human Janus, we all seek our sexual selves in the chain of being; past, present and future.

I take in our bedroom as a whole. Firstly the three dominating large framed wedding photos above the brass bed head behind me. Then on the side wall my favourite landscape painting. I kind of picture a young woman walking away in the Turneresque fogginess. However; I hear her voice distinctly say, ‘I think you see more than what is here.’ Through the bedroom door, on the hallway wall, paired, I reflect on the framed prints of Rama and his rakshasa antagonist Ravana, squaring off in their chariots. My memory gently hints at what my immature mind missed; a young woman holding two flimsy pieces of gold leaf and giving me so much more as she offered me the foil. Finally by my bedside; my radio-alarm and my car keys with their Eiffel Tower chain memento. I wonder momentarily if its brought relation still hangs on a hook inside a Parisian apartment. And as always a book, what I’m currently reading: Howards End by E.M.Forster.

Our existence is both unhinged and glued together in our lives as genitalia. However, there are closer ties congregating during the fleshy tangle of genitals and the vows they make and liberate in sex; which memory catches and releases and associates; that present a fait accompli of enduring connection through all the vagaries of existence now permanently etched into our lives more than we realise in the moment. It is living through time and space we come to this understanding of our true signature gift to each other.

Rhea and I have ‘sex for breakfast’. In the vernacular of the urban dictionary, a morning fuck before we have breakfast and get on with our lives. Yet in our minds, we bond and make love, partake with joint awareness in mutual delightful friction. Our separate selves seemingly forever separate, yet in this moment, Janus faced as one. We invest the meaning where there may be none.

We have this moment here and we should embrace it with our lover. Both with gentle empathy and in living. For our genitals and our memory are actually held in one hand and our partner’s hand held in the other. For this time is for us.


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