Ultimately, the Art of Cruxinglizt is choice. For nature is choice, and erotica is nature—a force of creation, which has no force in it. We choose to wield it and shape it. It is a force that exists, but does not penetrate on its own.

  The Practice of Cruxlinglizt is awareness, and becoming aware of the choice. We call this the Moment of Emptiness. Every encounter with erotica has a choice point.

  Breathe the breath of life. Feel erotica. Allow it to fill you. Breathe it in. Desire floods you. Need stokes you. Observe the response of the body. Observe the response of the mind. Observe the response of the heart. The waves grow stronger.

  In the Moment of Emptiness, you have a choice. Will you allow the next wave to crest and pull you under? Or will you allow it to recede and continue your flow with erotica?

  There will be a next wave, and a next. You get to shape the time and nature of your release.

  The Moment of Emptiness in musical terms is the caesura. Yet, there need not always be a crescendo and finale. With erotica, you may choose in the Moment of Emptiness to have denouement without climax.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  And so we have the Art of Cruxinglizt and the Practice of Cruxinglizt in one Moment. The moment of choice leads the body to open or close. You decide how open your womb is.

  The presented exercises are designed to bring you into experience of erotica and self. For how can you know the Moment of Emptiness without knowing your own thoughts, feelings, desires, and pleasures?

  The solo practice is Art. The partner practice is Art.

  Decide how open you want to be.

  - The Art and Practice of Conception

  Dream Journal

  I was floating in a hot tub. No, there were waves. I was floating on the ocean waves.

  No, not an ocean. Light. Waves of golden light. I was floating, and they filled me. Those waves of golden light, without and within.

  Stoking everything inside me. Filling me. Delight. Desire. Fulfillment. Ecstasy. Wave after wave.

  He was there. He held me. He filled me. A wave began to crest. I felt him.

  I stopped thinking of my own need. I felt his chest beneath me, his breath rising and falling. The fullness of him inside me. He stilled, sensing my pause.

  I trembled, but realized the pause was the greatest bliss.

  And I had a choice to make: keep going or let the wave pull me under? I chose.

  I moved. The wave crested and crashed down. He filled me as I fell. And my mind glowed golden. Glorious rapture. Bliss. The caesura. The great pause.

  I had felt it with him, and it had been bliss.

  Choice. Choice. Choice.