This is not an article about watersports or “golden showers” though golden energy can make you wet.
Many years ago, I had a lover who had mastered the nuances of energy exchange during sex. She had a way of making each act of union a sacred event, a rite in itself but not a ritual. There was intention and intent in each motion, each movement, each breath. This powerful woman, unbeknownst to her at the time, set the sensual standards to which I would aspire. She was a sexual goddess that I could never hope to please as fully as she did me, or so I believed at the time.
Not really a technique or style, Cheryl’s attentions could shuttle me to orgasmic plateaus that seemed to stretch for hours. It wasn’t anything about how she looked or felt or sounded or thought. It wasn’t something she had learned in her short marriage. It was about manifesting what she wanted me to feel, the ability to channel her sexual energy through me. We never talked about what she could do; I always assumed it was because she was just so darn good at pleasing me. It would be some time later that I discovered that I had this magical power too. And so do you.
It was at a house party in Preston Trails the first time I positively knew I could do it. There were about two dozen people present this night, mostly 20-somethings with too much time and money to be anywhere else. Many were somewhat jaded from years of traversing the North Dallas social scene where copius amounts of ecstasy and cocaine where tossed about as freely as cigarettes. Sex was the goal for many at these parties and usually amounted to pathetic, inebriated attempts at copulation that resulted only in frustration. This night would be different.
By midnight the party was in full swing. It was freezing out yet everyone had at least one nude dip in the hot tub. Several were already wasted and becoming boisterous. Two girls dropped their bath robes and began making out in the main room, loudly challenging each other to see who could cause an orgasm first. I remembered what Cheryl used to do for me, even catching her once when she thought I was asleep.
“I can!” Everything stopped. The girls looked up at me with surly stares that seemed to drip contempt. “No man has ever been able to make me come. That’s why I’m playing with her.” My mouth kept moving as though I wasn’t doing it consciously. “I can make you come without touching you.” This produced a round of laughter from the room. “OK, stud, go for it,” the second girl said, shifting around on the couch to fully show herself to me. The first girl was about to protest but reconsidered and moved to a recliner nearby.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa, I explained what I was about to do. “I’m going to move my hands around your body but not touch you. If I do make contact it’s accidental and don’t react. Close your eyes, blank your mind, let go as much as you can, ignore what’s going on outside and allow yourself to feel what’s inside.” Cupping my left palm slightly and allowing it float about a half inch over her skin, she began to relax as more of the others began to watch.
I made note of the places that seemed to radiate more heat and those with less. Some areas caused her to flinch, others squirm, another made the corner of her mouth curl. She began to breathe more deeply with short, forceful exhales. The other party-goers had fallen silent, in rapt attention after having seen the stark transformation in her demeanor from loud and aggressive to completely passive and submissive. The girlfriend was slack-jawed.
Her navel was very warm so I used it as a center and made circular motions radiating outward. Starting there again, I moved my palm up and down from the top of her head to the pubis bone and imagined the chakras aligned with the motion. Then focus was moved to the space from her belly button to the mons, an inverted triangle roughly tracing the positions of the vagina and uterus and ovaries. Moving slowly over and back, I could feel more heat rising from her body as she began to react with gentle squirming and moaning.
It was about this time that I tried to imagine what was going on inside of her, visualizing her vagina pulsing and twitching and lubricating as it passed through the stages of arousal. From that mental image burst a spray of golden light right from its center, like a fountain in a city square. At that exact moment, she drew up her arms and legs and began making a new sound, almost like pain. Her legs straightened and spread as wide as they could; I concentrated on the golden light and the mental image of her inside and thought about causing the golden energy to burst forth from her belly button, bathing the room and everyone present in the glow.
The orgasm lasted about three minutes. She clamped down one last time and a huge squirt of girl cum gushed forth, causing several of the watchers to gasp and whisper. I caressed her face and lips briefly then leaned back to observe everyone’s reactions.
I thought she had passed out and so did her girlfriend who had moved in to ask if I had hurt her. Groggy, she eventually came out of it and opened her eyes, astonished that she was spread wide open and a dozen people were staring at her. Feeling around the couch, she found her girl cum and glared at me, “What did you do?!” “He didn’t do anything. He never touched you,” the girlfriend reassured her. “He had to have. How did this get in me? What happened?” Several of the onlookers began asking questions.
It seemed like a good time to get a beer and take a dip in the hot tub. A few others followed me outside; one was the wife of a popular football player. “Do you think you could teach my husband to do that? He just pounds away like I’m a defensive tackle.” It might have been funny but for her sincerity. How can you lie about something like that when you’re naked with a stranger in a steaming tub in 20-degree weather? I wasn’t sure how to answer except to say that he would need to devote some serious time to learning about her body.
This experience has since been repeated many times, both in “I don’t believe it” settings and with my own lovers. I’ve learned that the essence of this energy transfer is also found in the practice of “touch healers” and reiki and several other disciplines. It’s not a sexual thing – it is spritual, drawing on our very essence as beings of light. I never conduct a transfer or try to sense anyone’s body without their permission. It can be a very moving experience, especially for those that are not fully in touch with their body or are not prepared for an all-consuming orgasm.
You can do this too. Practice openness, allowing the full range of your senses to inform about your lover, beyond the five obvious senses. Feel their energy centers. Try to visualize each area and what it will look like after your influence. See the area begin to glow with golden radiance, spreading outward and filling the entire room. Your lover should feel this and with practice will be able to identify when (and where) you are exchanging energy with them. Take time to know your lover, really know them. Their body isn’t that different from yours and it responds in the same ways, if not exactly to the same things. Share your golden energy freely and it will always come back to you.
As a how-to hint, when I want my girl to come during intercourse I visualize her from the inside with the golden glow radiating from the end of my penis, like a brilliant torch of shiny yellow fire. Works every time, and it can effortlessly extend her orgasms far beyond physical stimulation only.
It was very rewarding to share my energy with Cheryl this way when we reconnected after two decades. My dear lover wept quietly as we fell asleep. No one had ever done that for her before.