It’s incredible how a tiny point of skin-to-skin contact on one region of your body can produce such an overpowering sensation, where your mind and body are quickly both enveloped in the flames of want and sucked into the throes of passion. To be stranded in that limbic purgatory for all eternity, you pant for more breath as you push and shove closer and closer. However, nothing is ever enough, and somehow, it’s always exactly enough. This is because your lungs mimic your skin receptors in that way. It poetically describes sex in general. in a rush to reach the finish line, where it’s all finished. The enjoyment comes from pushing past the point at which the enjoyment fades. A strange limbo between the states of being “nearly there” and “just right,” and the hazy experience of both those states at once. A sort of swimming motion occurs as the parts that were intended to be together finally come together and carry out the acts they were intended to do — without interference — once the condoms are gone. You can feel the labia stretch out and grab the base of your shaft as the vagina swallows you whole after the condoms are gone.

There isn’t much in the way of revealing moments like when our genitalia eventually touch another person’s without a barrier. All of the communication occurs at that precise moment; our bodies are merely artefacts and the means by which it happened. Neurotransmitters speak the language of touch as they rush through our brains and out of our bodies.