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Welcome to Pleasure Central Radio!

Part memoir of a modern Renaissance woman, part career advice, part ‘how to be an amazing lover’ instruction manual... 

Pleasure Central is definitely about sexAND... Pleasure Central is just as much about every other kind of pleasure.

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Rebecca's Love Letter

Jan 19, 2019

(I wanted to share with Charity how she was an integral part of my connection with Nate, even in the beginning when I had yet to meet and fall in love with her. So I wrote her the story. It's recorded )

Dearest Charity,

Today I added hummus to my grocery apartment list. Because you like it. And I watched you two decide to add almond butter and apples to your pantry list because I like them, and they fuel me. (I felt so cared for.

Apples and almond butter.

That was the first thing Nate and I ever ate together. Apple slices out of a ziplock bag, and Justin’s Almond Butter with Honey packet while sitting on a bench in Myrtle Edwards Park.

It was sunny and warm that first day. I was wearing one of my favorite dresses - the green short wool one - because 1) I love that dress and it was warm and beautiful, and 2) Nate had mentioned he had a thing for short dresses and skirts and being able to look up them.

I didn’t want to drive him too crazy, but I did want to plant a seed in his head and let it sit there and ripen.

We were sitting instead of walking because I had walked barefoot across the grass to meet him (to ground myself) and stepped on a bee. Or wasp. Either way, ouchy.

I didn’t know he would be bringing a red umbrella, just that we would be meeting at the Rose Garden. His red umbrella made me smile the moment I saw it.

I couldn’t help but smile and open my heart a bit more as I limped over to him.

So we sat instead of walked.

I told him about some of my lovers... about Fedora Guy and our grand love affair. The one that never really ended, and that never hurt me but always, always filled me up. It is a story that still makes my heart bigger every time I think about it.

I told him how, with Fedora Guy, there was total honesty even in tough fucking situations, and there was chemistry and beauty and love and mutual respect and admiration. That’s a unique kind of love. That’s soul stuff. 

And Nate responded in kind. We talked about his love, Charity, and how he met her. We talked about a trip to Ireland, and their churchy upbringing. We talked about how much of a badass human being he thinks she is, and how proud he is for the joy she has been allowing herself to have.

He believed she would be willing to leave him rather than hold him back in any way, and yet it was pretty clear that she loved him as well - the promise to leave was not simply a “I can’t handle this, goodbye” cop-out. Not that there really is such a thing.

He applauded her ability to be so honest with herself, something which I also admire since honesty and integrity are so high on my own value list.

So if she couldn’t take it, she knew she had to leave. That’s fucking brave. I felt his admiration for her, and I felt it too.

We sat on a picnic table talking for over an hour. We sat close enough to be touching, barely, but not so close that anyone would think we had something romantic going on.

I reflected on how uncharacteristically shy I was feeling. On first dates, I typically present as pretty outgoing and curious about the other, but today it felt like there were too many things going on in the real world to be so in my head.

I could feel him next to me. I could feel his aliveness.

There was a rock sitting on the picnic table.

And so, we talked about the rock. It had been warmed by the sun, and it had an unusual shape. We each held the rock. It fit so nicely in our hands, and it was a sort of by-proxy PDA. We weren’t going to hold hands, but we could each hold this rock, one at a time.

We talked about shamanism and my ability to talk to trees and the consciousness of the natural world and my studies. We talked about his beautiful daughters and how much he wanted a child, and the church where they went to pray for a child, and how happy he was when that all worked out.

As we got up to leave, I tossed the rock into the grass - and immediately felt a sense of loss. But I didn’t want to be uncool and go and find it. I figured I could always come back for it later if it still called me.

Walking up the hill to my place was delightfully awkward. We weren’t touching, but occasionally bumping into each other. I was excited to show him my place. We had been talking over the course of a few months, and he had seen me go from fear about where I was going to live and the cost of living in the city, to lining up with living in my favorite neighborhood and dreaming myself into an amazing space with one of my favorite people - literally a dream I had been having for over a year. And this was the first time he was going to get to see it.

I let us in the door and chuckled silently as I walked up the stairs in front of him, knowing my dress would give him just the smallest peak of what was underneath. I paused at the top of the stairs, out of his path, and turned around silently, waiting for him to take it all in.

You see, one of my favorite things about my new apartment is the TARDIS moment. The moment as people walk up my stairs and begin to take in the whole room, and then slowly turn and see the view of the water out the big glass door. I call it the TARDIS moment because it usually looks and sounds a lot like what happens when people first walk into the TARDIS… stop dead in their tracks… pause… jaw hits the floor… “It’s bigger on the inside!” (Or “It’s smaller on the outside!”)