October 08

You Make Me Wanna…..

In the spirit of Straddling Jesus, and keeping with the general bawdy theme this week, I reworked this from my personal blog. In other words, I took out all of the really tacky stuff. Enjoy. ~ Renee

magic-bullet2

Gentlemen: I want to talk about your lingam. Not to be confused with your lingus. Although I am fond of them both.

Well, not yours, specifically.

As far as I know.

The 90’s were kind of a blur.

Anyway. I have been sick for the last few days, which has left me with several unoccupied hours, in my bed.

Reading.

And so, there I was, scantily clad and feverish, breathing shallowly, making disgusting phlegmy noises that I came….across an article about “Lingam Massage” and “Awakening His Sexual Energy.”

I feel like, most of the time, awakening the energy it is not the problem. It’s getting it to go back to sleep. Or getting in synch with my sexual energy, so that his energy isn’t trying to awaken while I load the dishwasher and my energy isn’t awake at midnight, reading “erotica” all by itself.

But I like to try new things, so I was intrigued.

So, in the interest of careful and thorough research, I googled “lingam massage.” I learned that the Sanskrit word for “Lingam” loosely translates to “Wand of Light,” which puts a whole new dimension on the Harry Potter series.

dancing dumbledoor

I also found a fairly graphic video tutorial.

I think it was a tutorial. Technically.

To be clear, I am totally on board with this. Or am I on point? Anyway…

As I researched, I took careful mental notes and thought only of how I can become a better spouse, lover, and life partner. I took it all ingested considered it with somber reflection.

But I have to say, all I could see in my head was one bearded guy in a Ganesh t-shirt saying to another bearded guy in a hemp robe, “So I told her it was called a lingam massage! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Fine, I’m immature. Blow me.

The Lingam Massage, (as explained by Whitelotuseast):

Step one:  Have the receiver lie on his back with pillows under his head so he can look up at his partner. Gently massage the legs, abdomen, thighs, chest, nipples, etc., to get the receiver to relax.

Relaxed. Right. That’ll happen. Most men think that brushing Dorito crumbs off his shirt is a sexual overture. I’m sure he will relax right through that nipple business.

Step two: Prior to massaging the lingam it is essential to ask permission before touching it to pay respect, and honour it as a sacred organ.

Wait, what?

Yes, “honour.” Am I asking the receiver, or the sacred organ directly? That sacred organ? The same sacred organ that you were helicoptering at me on Tuesday, and that I sometimes refer to as Gollum, and that some folks use as cyber greeting cards on Twitter? On any other day I can touch it with any part of my body and you are thrilled, but today I have to ask permission?

I feel like I have enough kinks without adding “talk to my wand” to the list. But ok. Whatever.

It is at this point that the actual lingam massage begins. Only we have to be pretentious about it, and say things like Orgasm is not the goal of the lingam massage, although it is a welcome side effect.

So it’s ok if it happens, but I don’t need to care if it doesn’t.

Wow. Just like actual sex, for some women.

Now, assuming that we have obtained a “waiver” from the lingam, this is where it gets interesting.

Massage the head of the lingam as if you are using an orange juicer.

Yay! I will be super efficient at this. We have a Magic Bullet.

They probably don’t mean with an actual orange, though. Right?

There’s a video about that, too, although they don’t call it a massage. They call it “grapefruiting.” Seriously. Just google it. I’ve tried it. You should all be married to someone who puts so much effort into making a farce out of everything. It was voted “interesting” but “sticky.”

But I digress.

Step three: Gently squeeze at the base, pull up and slide off, alternating hands. I practiced this on the…um… imaginary lingam that I keep in my nightstand. I anchored it between my thighs for enhanced realism.

Except I realized I was making this weird, rhythmic shooping noise with each “slide.” “Shoop shoop shoop shoop.”

Apologies to Salt-N-Pepa.

I try not to do that during actual “massages.” It’s distracting, I’m told.

Which brings us to the final step – after several minutes of shooping, monitoring his breathing and general well-being, and then harshing his mellow everytime he gets too happy, you are instructed to find the “Sacred Spot.”

Find and massage the male Sacred Spot: There is a small indentation about the size of a pea about midway on the region that is known scientifically as the “t’aint.” Be gentle and push inward.

Then:

The man may have strong emotions come up during access to the Sacred Spot.

I can attest to that. Wait, is running from my house screaming while I chase you with a Magic Bullet a strong emotion?

 

 

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