(Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had have come from the confines of my bedroom. This is one of them.)
It was exactly 11:37 in the evening. We were laying in bed facing each other, my legs intertwined with his, his calves warming my popsicle toes. His eyes penetrated mine, prompting me to tell him what I was thinking, so I told him that I wanted to write.
“So, write,” he said calmly.
“But I don’t know what to write about,” I complained. “What should I write about?”
He leaned in close, his gaze telegraphing his next move (a kiss) before answering, “Lust. Write about lust.”
In the midst of his kisses, I laughed. “I don’t know the first thing about lust! I couldn’t write about that.” I paused. “How about you tell me about lust.”
He turned over on his back with one arm above his head, took in a deep breath, & let it out slowly. His face turned pensive as he chose his words carefully.
“Lust is carnal,” he said slowly, almost whispering. “It is that primal part of you that contains an instinct that cannot be controlled; one that overtakes you & entices you to succumb to pleasure.” He stopped to look at me, & without saying a word I urged him to go on.
“Lust is instinctual, uninhibited, biological. It reminds us that we are erotic beings.” He stopped to look at me again, the substance of his words hanging over our heads. The expression on my face must have suggested skepticism or confusion because he asked me what I thought of all that.
“That’s heavy,” I said. And then I began to let my thoughts form themselves. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt lustful. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to surrender to it. I don’t really know what lust is.”
“Would you like me to show you?” he asked, his eyes dancing. I laughed, telling him jokingly that I was afraid of what that entailed. “I want to show you,” he insisted. He propped himself on his elbows & began inching closer to me, a small smile on his face.
“Close your eyes & lay on your back,” he murmured. I did. After a small wait, he then planted a kiss on my lips so passionate that the pit of my stomach began to sway & I felt my head grow fuzzy. What happened next would constitute as an embodiment of lust, but I didn’t come to realize that until later, after our bodies were bathing in the afterglow of glorious sex & attraction.
As we lied together in our secondhand bed, the warmth of the light on my nightstand cascading over our flushed faces, I finally grasped the concept of lust.
I think lust is that natural piece of you that prompts you to act on your sexual urges, which therefore liberates every bone in your body to really embrace what you’re feeling.
Lust is darting tongues & thrusting bodies. It is also sweet whisperings & lightweight kisses. Lust can be bitter, sweet, & bittersweet.
Lust is a natural rhythm, an unpersonified, undivided, unrefined expression of your sexual expression. It is not a deadly sin or an act of wickedness. On the contrary, lust is one of the best ways to step closer to divinity.
And its actions speak better than words.
My challenge for you: Be lustful. Listen to your body’s urges when it comes to pleasure, & then act on them. Get lost in kisses & embraces. Turn off your logical mind & let your sensuality do talking & thinking. Dare yourself to be bolder in your sexual expression; don’t suffice it. Lust after your lover; think dirty thoughts. Let your entire self succumb to lustfulness. And when it’s all said & done, bathe in its afterglow.
Never, ever apologize (or feel guilty) for feeling lustful.