“The Yoni is the seat of absolute divine presence and power.”
Adthi-Para-Shakti
Rhonda spreads her legs open before me. Her smile is almost beatific. I push her thighs further apart, exposing her bare flesh. I knelt between her thighs, bowed my head, and approached her temple. I inhale deeply, taking in the musky scent of her arousal. My fingers caress the soft, dark curls of her pubic hair.
The female vulva was revered as the magical portal of life, possessed of the power of both physical regeneration and spiritual illumination and transformation….the sacred manifestation of creative sexual power.
Riane Eisler, Sacred Pleasure: Sex, Myth, and the Politics of the Body
I lick her labia and lightly suck on each of her lips. She sighs as I tease her. With my fingers, I part her lips. I explore her opening with the tip of my tongue before plunging it in deeply. I taste her. I feel her texture with my tongue. I blow warm breaths on her clitoris. My tongue flickers over it. She begins to writhe; she thrusts her mound closer against my face. I hear her breath and her moans. I kiss her down there. I feel her pulsate and throb. My tongue again glides over her clitoris. Her body quivers. I gently suck. She starts to convulse. She utters a loud cry of sublime pleasure. She comes hard. I taste a trickle of her juices: the nectar of the goddess.
Like her mouth her vulva is sweet, like her vulva her mouth is sweet.
Ancient Sumerian love song, 2000 BC
Yoni is the Sanskrit word for the vulva. In Hinduism, it is the symbol of divine procreative energy. A meditation in an early Hindu text refers to it as a “sacrificial altar.” In Taoist love poetry, “golden lotus,” “gate of paradise,” “precious pearl,” and “treasure” describe the yoni.
And where the beauteous region both divide
Thomas Carew, “The Rapture”
Into two milky ways, my lips shall slide
Down those smooth alleys, wearing as they go
A tract for lovers on the printed snow ;
Thence climbing o’er the swelling Apennine,
Retire into thy grove of eglantine,
Where I will all those ravish’d sweets distil
Through Love’s alembic, and with chemic skill
From the mix’d mass one sovereign balm derive,
Then bring that great elixir to thy hive.
Lutheran Guilt 