What is Spiritual Sex?
By: Christine Stevens
Tags: Spirituality, Relationships, Humor, Sex, Sexuality

What is Spiritual Sex?

If you’re searching for enlightenment, it might be sleeping next to you

A and C after spiritual sex (ADOBE)

I’ve looked into Tantra — it didn’t work for me. I’ve tried Sex Magik. It was dumb. I’ve done the inner orgasm. Outer orgasms are more fun, trust me. In the end, I’ve discovered that spiritual sex is much simpler and way more miraculous than the New Age and Eastern traditions would have us believe. You really don’t have to work very hard to experience enlightenment through spiritual sex. In fact, it is your natural reward for your attentiveness to your mate. In other words, the universe wants to thank you for being a good sexual partner and is quite willing to fill your mind, body and soul with ecstatic bliss beyond your wildest dreams. You simply have to change the way you are perceiving your mate.

Here’s How

I won’t pretend that sex is very spiritual at the beginning when you are head over heels for your new crush and you get them in bed and you fuck fuck fuck.

That phase is more of a greedy phase, or an appetite that’s being satisfied. A carnal desire. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!

I think spiritual sex, though, is something you come to as a couple, after you maybe move in together, make a commitment to one another, and begin really living as a pair.

That’s when a lot of people get bored and they want to go back to the beginning. Find another crush. Get them in bed and fuck fuck fuck.

That’s when you begin to find fault with your current lover and make arguments happen about who is right and who is wrong over the most irrelevant things.

You have forgotten the sacred beauty that is next to you, man or woman.

The Divine Feminine

There is a 28-year-old unemployed man in Los Angeles, I’ll call him A. The pandemic cost him his lousy job at a restaurant. He’s not sure what he wants to do with his life. But cry not for A. He is experiencing the very height of spiritual and sexual ecstasy.

You see, his partner C is the divine feminine. He didn’t realize it at first. They were going out. Then he moved in with her. And then they hit a kind of wall. But one day, he was reading about a monk in some monastery who was working very hard to experience emptiness and enlightenment and so on, in order to achieve the bliss of Buddhahood. You know, the transcendent joy and the attainment of truth — the end of all suffering and the beginning of an infinity of peace, serenity and magic?

Then C came into the room. She was pretty good looking, five years his senior, and she was wearing just her bra and panties. And from the look of things, she was in the mood for some hanky panky.

Suddenly, it occurred to A that this was the reward of the lay practitioner — the non-monk. Those monks in the monastery have a chance for monk enlightenment. We lay people have our own path. And this is our apex. Sexual connection with the divine feminine and masculine.

If you were looking for someone to incarnate the divine feminine, you could do a lot worse than C. She was 33. In the prime of her beauty, let’s say, although that statement is a little bit politically suspect. But A really felt that about her, that she was even more beautiful than when they met about a year earlier, that she was getting more beautiful by the day. She had the classic dark, long hair, and deep brown eyes of a goddess. And when she stood before him and took off her bra, revealing her small breasts, that sealed it for Aron — she was a goddess.

“I’m one lucky motherfucker,” he said out loud. And that brought a smile to her face and she laughed. This too, was part of the divine feminine — the tender smile. The nurturing, soft, mildness. Oh, don’t you worry, we know she’s not always mild. There’s a wild side to her, too. I’m just calling it like I see it here. The divine feminine’s chief attribute is that mildness that men are biologically incapable of because of their balls and the un-mild hormones that surge through their systems from these balls.

C had no balls. And then, when she pulled down her panties and stood before him, A saw that she had no cock.

There was just a small triangle of pubic hair and a slit between her legs. And her hips were wider than A’s hips. And her thighs were milky and softer than A’s thighs. Her belly was feminine and magical too — for A unconsciously knew as he stared wide-eyed at her belly button that babies come from there. That indeed A himself had come from that enchanted space, a female belly. A was overcome.

One minute he had been an unemployed schlep, living with his girlfriend in a polluted city called LA, reading about how to achieve “enlightenment” in a book. Suddenly, without warning, he was standing at the gates of heaven itself.

That my friends, is the beginning of spiritual sex — let the scales fall from your eyes and see the enchanted truth of what stands before you. Naked before you.

You Lucky Motherfucker!

This is it, for you, my friend. You are not a monk, remember. There will be no ascetic meditation to Buddhahood for you during this incarnation. Maybe in the next, who knows. But in this incarnation, this moment with your mate is your enlightenment and your gift. It’s the best that the universe can do for you. Well, maybe not the best. One day you might see the birth of your own child, and you will really be awed at the mighty power of the cosmos then. But now, it’s pretty awe-inspiring in and of itself, the woman before you.

The Divine Connection

C came over to the couch where A was then and put her soft arms around him, embraced him, looked him in the eyes and kissed him. She was giving herself to him.

She stopped suddenly, noticing tears wetting her boyfriend’s eyes. She looked at him, concerned.

“I’m just…so grateful that I met you, that I’m with you,” he said.

She knew what he meant. It was a miracle that they were able to connect this way.

C had her own journey that she was on towards spiritual sex. Being able to connect in this authentic plane with a man was actually quite new to her, although she claimed to be an expert in these kinds of things.

In many ways, her whole life up to this moment suddenly appeared to be some sort of charade. She hadn’t met another human being with eyes wet just from apprehending her.

She noticed him smiling through his tears at her, and felt that her own eyes were wet.

They were two human beings whose cups were running over just from the joy of being together.

And that connection is rare. A treasure. And more spiritual than prayer.

The Divine Masculine

C was lucky that given his near year of unemployment that A’s body was even more Statue-of-David-like — all he ever did, it seemed, was work out.

The only part that wasn’t Statue-of-David-like was his penis. A’s penis was large and thick. His balls were big and heavy. Whenever she looked at this part of his body, she would get a tingle between her legs, because he seemed about as much a man as it was possible for a man to be. She liked that he was a well-hung younger male, five years her junior because it made her feel like a powerful Goddess who is using her power to abduct a young Adonis.

She got on top of him and put that big manhood inside her and began riding him. As she did, she greatly appreciated his rippling muscles in his arms and his abs. So manly and strong, contrasted so sweetly by that boyish look in his eyes. Vulnerability. Who ever said that men weren’t vulnerable? They are the most vulnerable things on earth. More fragile than china, C knew. A could be broken so easily. She’d broken him a few times — to her regret and sorrow.

Now she gently held him as she rode him and took her to that place no man had ever taken her — a place where she felt almost like she was dying.

The French call it la petite mort.

And every time he made her orgasm like this she would feel the sense that she was falling off the top of Victoria Falls and would plummet to her death.

Always, of course, she would “recover” from this orgasm to see she was quite alive, and still making love to this kind, strong, boyish man who was living with her. Who was her mate.

The Divine Couple

Then they went side to side, as they often did. Their love-making had developed this ritual. It wasn’t a routine. No, these were steps in the divine ritual of lovemaking.

From the side position, he could use his hand on her clit to bring her to the edge of another Victoria Falls. Or he could use his hand on her nipples, caressing the divine feminine through her breasts.

They looked into each other’s eyes as she had her second orgasm, and they felt the trembling, earth-shaking consequence of divine coupling — transcendence.

Do you think the Buddha was more transcended under the bodhi tree when he finally cracked the code of human existence?

Or Christ in the desert when the truth of his own divinity came to him?

No, as she reaches this climax, the two of them hold each other so tightly, clinging on for dear life because their own puny lives seem to be threatened by the grandeur of this merging, this ecstatic union. Their individual identities are momentarily shattered. They astral travel for what could be a second, or an eternity — they don’t know. But they are going somewhere.

Where do they go to at the climax? Heaven, of course. No angels singing. No clouds. No harps playing. Heaven on earth, right here.

Heaven in an apartment.

Heaven in a room.

Heaven on a couch.

Heaven.

Some Requirements for Spiritual Sex

In order to go to this heaven, I think there are some pre-requisites.

You must feel yourself worthy. In other words, you must be quite convinced that you are as deserving of spiritual transcendence as any prophet or priest. I call this experience the sacred-secular. No, you don’t belong to any organization or workshop or institution. You belong to yourself. You live in the secular world, and yet you are sacred. You are a human soul who longs for this boundless experience of joy. You must admit to yourself that yes it is possible, and yes, you specifically are entitled to it.

You must feel your partner is worthy too. You have to trust them completely. Whatever arrangement you are in — marriage, dating, cohabitating, whatever — you must be confident that there is no dishonesty. There is no way that either of you is playing or tricking the other. You must believe one hundred percent in your partner, otherwise, it won’t work.

You must be willing to be aroused. So many people complain, “My partner doesn't turn me on anymore.” Well, are you willing to be turned on by them? That’s such a prerequisite. Where does this willingness come from? It comes from the belief in this project, of sacred sex. I can personally vouch for you that it is real. But it will only work if you are willing to let it work. There is no room for Doubting Thomases on the sacred sexual couch. This is a place for true believers only.

You have to see with double vision. You must look through a lens that reveals your partner’s twin nature — human and divine. Yes, C sees A as that unemployed guy she met at a kickball game. A sees C as that workaholic maniac who often seems quite unhinged. But they have the double vision glasses on. A sees C as also a manifestation of the divine feminine. C sees A as the divine male. They see their own relationship as double, too. On the one hand, they are boyfriend/girlfriend. On the other, they are Adam and Eve. They are the prototypical pair. They are God and Goddess. Aphrodite and Ares, together in Ares’ palace in Thrace, being spied on by the Sun as Helios begins his daily journey in his chariot.

Orgasm Is Not The Only Spiritual Moment In Sex

Lest you be confused by my narration of these climaxes, please be aware that every moment in this coupling is spiritual for C and A.

After their side by side enchantment, often in their ritual they proceed thusly. C will lie on the bed or the couch on her stomach. From behind A can really appreciate those hips and the sacred bottom of the female. And he can really penetrate her deeply from this position. They both love it. But rarely does this one lead to orgasm for C. Nevertheless, being pounded from behind takes her there — to the magic land.

Finally, they end up in the traditional missionary position. Only she likes to modifying it by putting her feet up on her shoulders — it allows him to go even deeper. If they can remember to put their wedge pillow beneath her lovely ass, it will go even deeper.

And now they are making the famous beast with two backs.

This is where Aristophanes in Plato’s Symposium relates that the two halves of the self have found one another. Zeus, the King of the Gods had tried to weaken humans by splitting them into two. But they manage to find the other half of themselves and reunite in their original form. In the words of Jerry McGuire, they “complete” each other.

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

In modern terms, the “wound” that is healed by this spiritual sex is the narcissistic wound we all somehow experience in childhood when we realize our separateness, and our impotence as our delusions of grandeur are shattered.

Now, this wound is healed as we embrace another equally wounded “half-person.”

I know, one minute she was the divine-human, another minute she has become half a human.

It’s paradoxical, this spiritual sex. Watch it play out as A reaches his orgasm and shoots his seed into C.

She has to restrain a smile as his face contorts as he ejaculates, and he cries out, “Oh my God!” It’s like he’s in some kind of great pain! And the last thrusts are so hard and so violent — it’s like he’s trying to push his whole self into her, his other half.

When this violent storm subsides, and the contortions leave his face, and he is her divine boy once again, she strokes his hair and they whisper sweet things to one another and they drift off to sleep in their spoon-shaped embrace.

They sleep the sleep of the just.

They have no guilt. They have no regret. They have only this pleasant, serene sleep of the enlightened and the healed.

They have experienced once again sacred sex.