September | 2015 | Josie Baker EXPOSED

I am eternally grateful to Anaïs Nin for immortalising the essence of sensualism in her writing. “…at certain moments I remember one of his words and I suddenly feel the sensual woman flaring up, as if violently caressed. I say the word to myself, with joy. It is such a moment that my true body lives.”

Our imagination can be the most powerful aphrodisiac at our disposal. We should allow it it’s full power and feed it whenever the opportunity presents itself. While searching for beauty on the internet recently, I found the perfect definition of the way in which some of us are separated from the rest of society by our appreciation of – and reliance on – the sensual. If you are reading this, you will probably recognise yourself in the (slightly edited) description below, courtesy of Annelies A.A. Vanbelle.

The Sensualist Manifesto

For a true Sensualist the five senses are the highest gift. Experiencing sensual pleasure through savouring, sniffing, observing, listening and touching is their lifelong leitmotiv. Sensualists enjoy poking their noses in their lover’s armpits, revel in the soft slide of skin-against-skin. Sensualists never express the word ‘sex(uality)’. Sensuality however is their mantra, eroticism their adage, tickling their addiction.

For a Sensualist lust equals zest for life. No libido means no energy, no creativity, no inventivity. Lust is the catalyst of their lives. They consider love-making as a language, just as fit as any other language to penetrate the darkest regions of somebody else’s mind and soul. Their heated view on things is not restricted to the bedroom. Their entire life is covered with a veil of sensual sensation. Sensualists immediately recognise each other through the poignant, passionate look in the eyes.

Sensualists practise slow sex, analogous to slow food, which is also focused on reawakening the senses, slowly and devotedly, by serving quality and originality. Sensualists prefer desire above fulfilment, the endless scrutinizing of each others’ bodies above a quick and simple fuck. The Walhalla for a sensualist is reaching an orgasm without even touching the other. A penetrating look can do so much more than a real penetration. Sensualists invest an abundance of time in letting the longing grow fiercer and fiercer. They drift on the energy that derives from suggestion and abstention.

Sensualists dote on slow sex but this doesn’t say anything about the pace of their lovemaking. They are fond of the contrast between fast and terribly slow, between ruthless and soothing, animal and cerebral, intense and superficial, distant and intolerably intimate, between being restrained and eager, biting and kissing, sizzling and freezing. It is this entire spectrum of feelings and sensations that oscillatory cranks up their lust.

Language is the aphrodisiac par excellence for a Sensualist. Sensualists are word junkies that send each other elongated eropoetic writings. They read arousing literature to each other and poetry compilations are used to facilitate the traffic between the sheets instead of the habitual lubricant. Sensualists can be touched deeply by one well thought-out sentence and enjoy months of pleasurable old-fashioned correspondence. Tickle their brain (their most erogenous zone) and their bodies react instantly. Though sensualists are cerebral creatures, their sensual summit is situated in animal regions. The utter fulfilment lies in letting the beast go, letting it sweep away the monocracy of the mind. The ultimate objective of a Sensualist is to reach a complete symbiosis with a partner, becoming one body instead of two, no longer knowing where the self ends and the other begins.

Sensualists view lovemaking as a form of art, a skill that can be learned and honed through practise, careful observation and discussion. Every new love is a new step in the continuous perfecting of a Sensualists bedroom arts and techniques. They travel around their lover’s body, map it meticulously, know every inch of it. Sensualists are light-fingered; excel in keeping tongue, timing and rhythm.

Sensualists regard the body as one huge erogenous zone. Hands, feet, armpits and earlobes, glans penis and clitoris, nipples and breasts: they are all one and the same. Fingers intertwine and almost reach an orgasm, toes are licked as though life depends on it. A Sensualist uses the body as the primal instrument for sensual pleasure; accessories add a nice touch but are not necessary. Much more important than masks, rose petals, candles and electric devices is imagination. Sensualists prefer the suggestive power of fantasy above the brutal in-your-face of pornography.

http://sensotheque.blogspot.com.au/2009/04/sensualist-manifesto.html

“There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don’t work.” Anaïs Nin

I’m a huge fan of Anaïs Nin’s Little Birds and Delta of Venus, some of the earliest female erotica written.

Anaïs was a fascinating woman who led a extraordinary life. She wrote erotica with her lover, American writer Henry Miller (Tropic of Cancer) and a collection of other writers and poets in Paris in the 1940’s. She later kept two husbands on opposite sides of America, keeping them and the two parts of her life completely separate – her “bicoastal trapeze”.

Her stories have inspired me to attempt writing some erotic short stories of my own. I have just released the first collection ‘Peep Shows 1’ on Amazon.