'So' I say as casually as a man can, 'what exactly is sex magic then?'
The witch pauses, considers her drink and looks at me. She goes to speak and then pauses again. 'Okay' she begins with a waving of the left hand, 'there are two or three understandings of that term. Probably the most common one is where you charge a magical spell - say a sigil even - by utilising the moment of orgasm to *send out* your desire'
I pause momentarily. 'You mean...?'
'Wanking, yes. That's one of the most common methods. Of course it's better if you're with someone...'
'Right' I say carefully, shifting slightly in my chair. I look at my half-drunk pint of stout for some inspiration to carry my line of questioning on.
'Ehm, and the second type?'
'Well, that's a bit more complex. That, well, that kind of involves the concept of the woman as goddess'
'Goddess?'
'Yes. As a goddess. Sex becomes almost a religious experience'
'Right. I see. And her, you know, pink bits are the altar then are they?'
The witch snorts. 'If you like yes. But that's not really important'
'Okay, right. And well, can I ask you something else? It's a bit of a cheeky question'
'Shoot' she says taking a drink.
'Well, what would you say to the suggestion that could be made that this is all, well, just an excuse for a load of random strangers to meet up and shag each other?'
'You mean like an orgy?'
'Yes'
'Well, there aren't any. Sorry'
'Oh. Never?'
'Nope. Well, think about it. Sex magic doesn't exactly work when you have a group of beered-up, whooping and hollering swingers standing behind you with a handycam...'
'Handycam?'
'Never mind'
'Right. Anway, that makes sense. Pint?'
'Ooo. Yes please. And then I can tell you some more'
+Art+
He was sitting in his chair thinking of the past in the cold still darkness. Waiting to speak his red angel. Who drained his heart to the hard pavement of now. He still longs for her sweet words to be free the way he listens to the city at night. He needs fresh words in this tough city of york. Her photos are allways outstanding.