sad are the men who take Viagra - and worse - to make their
They are too anti-sensual, unaware of their bodies to have learned
the glorious, liberating pleasures of being soft and passionate
with another man. An un-erect organ (also known as a willy)
is at least as beautiful as - and certainly more cute than -
an erect, throbbing and precum-dribbling one.
is just a suite of rooms in the Grand Hotel of Sensuality. "Foreplay"
can be a whole banquet, not just an apéritif or the warm-up
to a game, the brief means to an end. Two men who are attracted
to each other can have marvellous shared hours and sensations
without even touching cocks. Opening your heart and mind to
sheer sensuality makes you aware of delicious and powerful subtleties
within you that you never dreamed you had.
And why did you never dream of these gentle but profound, life-changing
Because of the barrage of misinformation (mostly from religion)
about the nature of sex (and its confusion with both 'love'
and sensuality on the one hand, and with 'spirituality' on the
other), and the total lack of information from criminally insane
education systems (created to provide unfulfilling labour for
anti-sensual capitalism) about the simple, wholesome enjoyment
of one's own and other people's bodies.
simple sensuality adds nothing to the Gross National Product,
employs nobody in factories, nor does it require the purchase
of anything - except, perhaps, a little massage oil for the
almost 3 square metres of skin (containing tens of thousands
of nerve-endings) which cover us.
But I shall get down from my soap-box for a while and list a
selection of delights available to two or more mutually-attracted
visitors to the Palace of Enhanced Perception, starting from
the head and moving down.
- from simple rubbing and scratching right through to mutual
Also massaging the balls with a shaven or close-cut scalp.
and rubbing faces together. This is especially delicious if
the two faces are bearded. Mutual beard-pulling can also be
and gentle kneading. With or without oil.
Shiatsu or simple kneading of torso (back and front) with thumbs
and palms. Thumbs inserted gently but firmly between vertebræ
can be delicious.
almost every gay man is acutely aware of is, of course, his
nipples. But there, too, an unfortunate masochistic machismo
has desensitised many gay men, who need violence to be perpetrated
on their little protuberances for them to feel anything at all.
But, as in so many areas of sensibility, 'less is more', and
the gentlest licking, tickling or tweaking of nipples can send
an electric shock running down to the prostate, on to the balls
and arse-hole, on down to the feet, up to the head and down
to the nipples again: Kundalini!
bushy beard rubbed against nipples can induce similar sensations,
as can a soft (or hard) willy (or balls) similarly applied.
man who is not attracted to natural, undeodorised armpits need
read no further. He has perverted his sense of smell to reject
male pheromones, and will certainly not rejoice in the taste
of sweaty underarms.
talking of sweat, a bit of erotic wrestling can add a great
new flavour to the sensual banquet. It is really an extension
of the hugging and squeezing which are at once exciting and
enough, though the nipples are possibly the most poetically-sensitive
part of the body, the area below - the belly - is probably the
least sensitive. At least for me. But I am sure there are men
and boys out there who have erogenous bellies or even belly-buttons.
Next to the rippling nipples, the most erogenous zone for me
- yet also most pacifying when gently squeezed - is my scrotum-with-balls.
A beard or unshaven chin rubbed against them can be splendid,
and to have a nice full and hairy scrotum rubbed passionately
against your own, or your face, can cause ineffable delight.
click to enlarge
the ball-sack are the inner thighs, which are extremely sensitive
to touch and tongue. As are the feet, a much neglected part
of our sensual equipment, except among sadly-exclusive foot-fetishists.
Mutual foot-massage (especially Reflex Therapy) is thoroughly
satisfying and life-enhancing. Mutual foot-kissing is a very
special experience, almost religious in its effect.
more neglected in the patristic monogamous cultures are the hands.
I have spent hours in exquisite mutual hand-tickling and finger-touching.
have mentioned only a few of the more obvious zones that can
become erogenous with a sexy, sensual partner. There are, of
course, the buttocks, the small of the back, the calves, the
inner arms which is as sensitive as the inner thighs. And of
course the anal sphincter, which does not need to be penetrated
forcefully by a huge throbbing penis (or vibrating dildo) to
receive pleasure like a flower receives a bee.
if you are attuned to pleasure from sheer sensuality, your cock
will respond in kind. If it started out soft, it will go hard,
and then maybe soft again. It will have its own rhythm, and
it is important not to think that it has to be hard. Remember
that many men can ejaculate withoute their cock being touched,
and they are not just the foot-fetishists and the premature-ejaculators.
moves us to a new area of consideration. Attuned men can experience
"internal", "cerebral" or "spiritual"
orgasms, whether their cocks are hard or soft.
ORGASM IS NOT THE SAME AS EJACULATION. Many ejaculations are
far from orgasmic. And orgasm is not the expulsion of desire
like a blockage from a pipe. It is a feeling of harmony, of
your body being 'in tune' with itself and with the other body
it is pleasuring and pleasured by. Making love is like a musical
tone-poem, or even a raga.
helps, of course, if you have tried or even mastered some yogic
techniques, whether 'ordinary' hatha yoga, or breath
control. A simple breathing practice involves the mere attention
to inhalation and exhalation, while you graduallyincrease the
length of the pause between breaths. Eventually you can slow
your breathing down until there is a very long gap between breaths.
Advanced practitioners get into a state between living and dying
(though of course they are living in a much more real way than
the rest of us), and in this state it is possible for the body
to seem to explode orgasmically, while the consciousness zooms
off somewhere like a raven on a crag. Some have reported that
they 'felt like a mushroom cloud above a nuclear blast' with
the dust of their 'former consciousness' slowly raining down
on on their transparent bodies 'in blissful droplets'.
this happens you enter a state of permanent prelude to orgasm,
and it needs only a bit of imagination to practise other releasing
'tricks' such as very fast belly-breathing or 'yogic locks'
which are the exercise and squeezing of muscles, especially
those concentrated in the perineum, 'solar plexus' and feet
- rather like the 'isometric' exercises which can tone any muscles
of the body while you are sitting at a desk, or in a chair,
or in a train.
specifically sexual practice is squatting so that your perineum
presses down on your heel while you touch your nipples.
you get in touch with your body through these practices, your
whole consciousness alters profoundly and often shockingly -
but in a controllable way which is not possible when you take
powerful psychoactive substances without similar training. Those
open to sensual awakening will slide into Tantra like a snake
through a hole in a cliff into a marvellous cave of stalagmites
and stalactites. Your testicles will gently and continuously
pulse, and an electric current will run from them through your
prostate up to your nipples, round your head and down your back
and through your anus down to your feet. You will also feel
will then discover Tantric
masturbation - which can be a marvellous
two-day (or week-long) testosterone-conquering event, whose
satisfying effects can last indefinitely. When masturbation
is regarded not as a poor substitute, but an evolved and chosen
alternative to mutual or group sensuality, the mind (mainly
the left hemisphere) opens to the beauty of simplicity and the
illusory nature of loneliness.
you can somehow meet another man with similar developed sexuality,
you will be able to have amazing sex-without-sex, simply by
gazing into each other's eyes and swimming in the flow between
you both - a flow which will probably produce 'head-orgasms'
which will beautifully balance the (non-ejaculatory) body-orgasms
which will occur just by touching finger-tips. And if you 'go
further', and start gently touching balls and nipples, feet
and spine, you will experience incredible singing of the body
I make love I always have music, and often that music will include
a classical Indian râg, because this highest form of music
is an expression of flow - and not, like so much Western and
especially commercial music, gush. I also play electronic 'ambient'
music (like that of David Parsons, Sergey Starostin, or Klaus
Schulze; Jean-Michel Jarre's Oxygène, Terry Oldfield's
Spirit of the Rain Forest, etc.); Pink Floyd's Wish
You Were Here and Meddle, Schubert's Trout
Quintet, or the most erotic of Romantic music, Brahms' Double
Concerto or First String Quintet, Franck's Piano Quintet...
there is what I call Arab Fusion - the amazing music of (such
as) the Trio Joubran, Abou Khalil and Anwar Brahem.
music enhances the flow of sensual awareness, appreciation,
complicity, of mutuality and exploration which is way beyond
the mere functional physicality which is a cornerstone of Western
culture: a kind of spirituality which the monotheisms condemn
when they are even aware that they exist. (The exception being,
perhaps, in the more advanced states of Sufism.)
of sensuality can cater for all the senses. The wine (especially
bubbly), the amuses-gueule or little delicacies, good-quality
incense, appropriate lighting. For me, raised in and handicapped
by a puritan and anti-touching, anti-hug, anti-kiss and sex-obsessed
culture, some kind of disinhibiter - like champagne - is necessary.
A couple of puffs of flowery cannabis can do wonders, as can
half a dozen 'magic' mushrooms with the right partner, or a
small quantity of 'designer'
drugs known by a series of initials. But most men don't need
such aids, and I, approaching senility, need them less and less.
I can get drunk (and erect) just sniffing a friendly armpit,
or by nuzzling an available furry perineum.
to mention cherries recently on the tree, grapes from the vine,
pistachio ice-cream... In winter there can be the amazing sensation
of frozen medlars straight from the tree - with, if you are
fortunate, the warm cream of seeding desire.
Yesterday - drunk on the perfume of my own armpits and cock,
rather than the 20-year old Armagnac - I had continuous non-ejaculatory
orgasm for over an hour. No animals were harmed. No human was
and delightful are the non-ejaculatory orgasms of men in tune
with their bodies. And when the prostate is 'in tune', delicious
mini-orgasms can occur when pissing! The Thousand Nights
and a Night might be a Sufi allegory of everlasting and
creative love-making without ejaculation. And beyond that, as
I have indicated above, the 'ultimate' soft-willy sex can be
enlighteningly performed with only two pairs of eyes - or by
two one-eyed guys!
is a pathetic and mean word for celebratory respect!
when the kiss-lick-and-cuddle-buddy is not available
be a marvellous two-day, testosterone-conquering event, whose
satisfying effects might last a week or more. When masturbation
is regarded not as a poor substitute, but an alternative to
mutual or group sensuality, the mind (mainly the left hemisphere)
opens to the beauty of simplicity and the illusory nature of
primitive, unintelligent attitude of sexual enslavement to the
paradigm of mere charge and discharge is what powers the
driven evil of our species. Liberation must begin
at the personal level, at the sexual level. Our species will
have wrecked the planet and died out before even the slightest
liberation occurs, because we are terrified of liberation, terrified
of using our intelligence, terrified of changing our ways even
slightly. It is this terror which fuels not just our crude and
mechanistic attitude to sex, but its corollary: our mindless
problem of mankind - and the planet - is Man's inability to
cope with testosterone. Humans are evolved enough to remove
all the checks and balances that limit the populations of other
species, but not intelligent enough to replace them with anything
other than the patently stupid moralisms based on the inanities,
cruelties and lies of religions manufactured by men. Thus testosterone
rules our lives, we are breeding ourselves to extinction, and
- far, far worse, the planet to its sixth extinction.
Testosterone is the serpent whispering in Eve's ear. Testosterone
is the father of war and of all manufactured weapons of mass
destruction. Testosterone is the devil which possesses men and
the women or partner they possess. Testosterone loves possessing.
Testosterone says 'Ejaculate!' Women and men say 'Here, in me!'
And so we proceed.
is also happy to sublimate/branch into other forms of desire
- especially property and power, control and lordship. Human
testosterone knows no bounds, because human beings are not intelligent
enough to check or circumvent it, especially in civilised societies
in which, inevitably, sexual activity assumes far too great
an importance, because people don't know how to accord it the
respect that would place it properly in the scheme of things.
in the mechanical, goal-driven, thing-oriented West have been
stultified by the delusion that orgasm is only a bodily, mechanical
product (of sexual capitalism). But 'sex' is largely a matter
of mind, of expectation - and the narrow minds squeezed out
by Abrahamic monotheisms and Confucian conformisms can only
conceive of erotic sensuality as procreative (or recreational)
function, rather than spiritual expansion and exploration of
consciousness and essence. Because these dogmas and doctrines
are anti-sensual, they are, like their logical end-point, Nazism,
inevitably anti-spiritual and unimaginably destructive.
leaders, preachers, theologians and practitioners of these body-denying
and death-defying religions have a strong interest in the micro-prevention
of spiritual development - which would of course eventually
reveal them to be redundant and grotesque.
wholesome and therapeutic sexy sensuality is a religious act
- whereas mere religious rituals - at best - involve sublimated
With this in mind, it is very easy to take control of testosterone
through sensuality. All we need to understand is - as I have
stated above - that male orgasm is independent of ejaculation.
Both are functions of the prostate gland, but one is not necessary
to produce the other. Legion are the unsatisfactory orgasms
- maybe most are (at least spiritually) unsatisfactory. Many
and delightful are the non-ejaculatory orgasms of men in tune
with their and each other's bodies. They can even induce that
spiritual love which has nothing to do with property or procreation,
but everything to do with celebration.
love is not celebratory, it is little more than an excuse for
abuse. When love is proprietorial, highly rôle-dependent,
and jealous, it is merely capitalism (that is to say grasping
meanness) of the spirit.
busy and cruisy, mostly-subterranean gay bar called Le Piano
Zinc on the rue des Blancs-Manteaux behind the Centre Pompidou
in Paris, around 1984-5 a guy called Aléxandre often
sang - rather well, I thought. Like the Bar Central nearby,
Le Piano Zinc attracted a very mixed crowd, which included
women queer or otherwise. I have never liked the slightly menacing
machismo (or slightly-macho menace) of British pubs or Irish
bars, but in the 1980s there were many pleasantly-exciting gay
bars and café-bars all over Western Europe, even in the
British Isles. There was even, for a few years, a "gay-friendly"
bar attached to the Europa hotel in Belfast - until it was 'cleansed'.
There I met a lovely man who used to cycle 40 miles to visit
me for hugs and kisses, and with whom I once shared a magic-mushroom
omelette cooked outside a tent we had pitched on a cliff on
the north coast of county Donegal...while a full moon rose over
the ocean below.
find Aléxandre sexy until the moment we started kissing.
Something electric passed between us. For a few weeks he would
come to my "Paris Pad" off the ancient rue Saint-Denis,
ever haunted by scant-clad whores, straight after work, and
we would spend up to six hours kissing and playing and making
dinner and drinking wine (sometimes champagne, after which we
drank each other's piss) and smoking weed. He was wonderfully
playful, and we would wrestle on the floor, chase each other
around the tiny flat, play with each other's willy while
cooking, while eating, while pissing. This ludic sensuality
- rolling, dancing, laughing, snuffling - was like the play
of puppies, and we both would come and (so rare for me) come