I realize that with men, I can express my sensuality: I can moan and whimper, point my toes...I can cry. With women, I feel a beautiful sense of invitation: I have the opportunity to climb all over and under, spreading and stretching her limbs, simultaneously cradling and tossing her body.
The common thread I have found between homosexual and heterosexual sex is the desire to be celebrated. Within the same encounter, my body longs to be praised and their bodies should serve as an offering to me. With men: every inch of my flesh is worshiped with great deliberation. With women: their sacrifice is so earnest, my bed becomes an altar.
There has to be a point where everything collides; where women suck the toes of men and men become weightless and available to their women. A stage where masculine strength can be peeled apart ever so delicately as feminine grace is matched by her fury. A point where there's no tops or bottoms, only reciprocals...what would that look like?