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These stories are real, though some details may be fictionalized, to protect confidentiality and identities, but these are actual accounts of Qadishtu moments. Stories can be told from either the point of view of the priest or priestess or from the perspective of the client/seeker/supplicant. The point is - what do we actually DO? This blog seeks to help answer that through example. What we do is incredibly varied, depending on our individual experience, training, gifts, and inclinations, and that's why this is a group endeavor. We all have gems to contribute to the larger understanding of what it means to be Qadishtu and the significant need for this role in our society today.

Please be sure to see our Calendar of Sacred Sexuality & Qadishtu Events at the very bottom of this page!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Wordless Gifts

When the Temple of the Red Lotus attends pagan festivals, we usually bring a large (10’ x 20’) tent that we decorate with beautiful wall hangings, carpets, pillows, and an elaborate altar. We offer workshops, rituals, and private sessions. Sometimes, we simply offer a new way of thinking or of viewing the world. Most of what we do is talking, but sometimes we communicate love, acceptance, safety, and comfort wordlessly. I remember one time when an older man (somewhere in his late 60’s or early 70’s) strolled by the Temple Tent while I was sitting outside it. I was taking a break from all the people and was quietly reading a book. I looked up as he passed, smiled, and nodded hello. He smiled and nodded in response, then continued on his way. A short time later, I looked up again as I heard someone approaching. It was the same older gentleman, coming back from the direction in which he’d gone earlier. He smiled as he approached and I smiled back. I was getting ready to turn my attention back to my book, when he stopped on the path beside my chair.

I raised my eyebrows at him and said “Hello,” out loud. He introduced himself, and then asked if he could sit with me for a few moments. He asked me about the Temple and my path, and we spent quite awhile talking about that and about his life. Turns out he had lost the ability to get and maintain an erection for quite some time. Although his wife claimed not to desire sex, he still missed the pleasure he used to find in sex and orgasm. We discussed various other ways he and his wife, or he alone, could enjoy sexual pleasure without needing an erection, and without needing to pursue orgasm. He thanked me for my time and my suggestions and went on his way once again.

Later that day, as I was walking down the path from the Temple Tent toward the Kitchen, this gentleman caught up to me and asked if I would walk with him for awhile. We wandered away from the more populated areas of the gathering, and found a fairly secluded spot on the Ritual Hill. He confessed that he had started to feel a stirring in his penis while he and I had talked earlier, and he was wondering if I’d be willing to let him caress my breasts while he lay in my arms. This man was a consummate gentleman and I felt utterly safe with him. I agreed to his request by laying down on the soft grass and gathering him into my arms. After holding him quietly for a few moments, I took his hand and slowly guided it up under my shirt. As his hand made contact with my breast, he gasped, then moaned in pleasure. It had, indeed, been a long time since he last allowed himself to explore another’s body.

After a sweet interval of gentle caressing, I moved my hand to the top of his waistband and looked at him questioningly. He nodded, and I gently reached into his pants. He was partially erect, and I began to stroke him, slowly. His eyes closed and he allowed himself to drift on the pleasure I was bringing him. I could tell that he was succumbing to the pleasure, without expectation of anything more. I, too, was not focused on trying to bring him to orgasm, but when I felt him begin to harden more, and his breathing became more ragged, I followed the energy. I sped up my strokes and started visualizing this man’s orgasm. I could feel the wave of pleasure surging up from his dormant root chakra, and I visualized drawing that energy up the shaft of his penis. A few more strokes and my palm was bathed in his sacred juices. The dam had broken, and when I looked back at his face, he was glowing, radiantly happy. He hugged me for a long time, a wordless expression of gratitude for a wordless gift of pleasure.

© Inara de Luna, Temple of the Red Lotus, October 2008

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