After I come

After I come, I usually laugh. Mark noticed it a few months ago, when I made a series of recordings of my orgasms. (Yes, you read that right. Maybe one day I’ll work up the nerve and get his okay to post one on here.) After I come, I am usually exhilarated and brimming with happiness. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been that way.

What about the happiness itself? What’s that like? Well, it’s layered. One layer, the base, is physical pleasure. Pleasure like energy in different intensities, from the soft new light of a sunrise to the sharp stab of a lightning bolt, coursing through my body. Then a layer of thought. Here I am stripped down, and my mind is clear. Here I am me. My thoughts arrive whole, regenerated, uninterrupted. Here contemplation is freedom. Then a layer of feeling. Feeling you next to me, feeling the air on my skin, feeling the stillness of my body itself. For a few minutes, I am both solidly in my body and somehow separated from it at the same time. My awareness of the duality makes me smile ironically.

After I come, the layers arrive one by one, then blend and blur together, softening until I slowly come back to reality, ready for more.

**Readers, I got the idea for this piece from some other blog. It stuck in my mind, but I can’t remember the name of the blog now. I wish I could give credit where credit is due.

Comments are closed.