A Tantric Massage

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Ass Eating

As I turned into Victoria Lane I contemplated the phone call that I had made a couple of days earlier, when I made my appointment. She had answered the phone with a low husky voice that raised expectations and aroused a weight deep in my belly, and I had been looking forward to this meeting for a couple of days now. The road was narrow and tree-lined, jacaranda blue falling, blue-stone cottages down both sides of the street. I found the house number she had given me, and drove further down the road and parked.

Walking back the road was quiet, peaceful. As instructed, I walked down the side of her house and came to a screen door. A small label marked “Private. Artist at Work. Do Not Disturb” was fixed to the door frame. I knocked and waited — I could not see inside but I could smell incense and saw darkness.

The door opened and I was met by an elegant older woman, blonde bobbed hair, dressed in a pale silk blouse and long trousers, cream high heels. A little thin for my taste, but beautiful sculpted cheekbones and long graceful fingers, nails cut short. “Welcome, please come in.”

The room was candle lit, an unlit fire made up in the fireplace, soft pools of light around the room, a languorous aroma, a sense of calm. She closed and latched the door, a click of privacy. This would be our time.

We made small talk — I had come away from the city mid-afternoon, she had enjoyed a morning coffee in one of the nearby cafes, we were a pair of professionals seeking a quiet time. She asked what I knew of Tantra, and I spoke of Margot Arnand and that I had one of her books, and had started some of the exercises, but now I needed a teacher.

She said, “let me be that teacher, I can guide you, we will find a moment of pleasure together. Now, please shed your clothes and be comfortable.” She led me to a tiled bathroom and gently closed the door. I neatly piled my shirt, trousers, socks and pants on the bench and stepped under the shower. Adjusting the flow and temperature I arched my head back and let the water flow over my face and chest, closing my eyes in the luxury of the heat.

I reached for the scented soap and washed away the deodorant from my armpits, lathered the soap around my cock and balls. I pressed a gentle finger over the opening of my ass, and felt a nice thickness to my cock. The heat was leaving me warm and long, my balls full and low.

Turning to the door I found a thick luxurious dressing robe which I wrapped around myself, and made my way back to her room. Now she too had shed her outer garments and stood before me in black lace stockings and a garter, lacy black briefs and a low bra covering her small breasts. “Come, let’s have a full hug, we must hug properly before we begin.”

I dropped the warm robe and stood naked before her; she came to me and held her body right up against mine. “People always hug with a space between them,” she explained, “but we should not be afraid of holding someone close.”

I could feel her breasts against the lower part of my chest (she was some six inches shorter than I), her belly against my cock pressing warm. Our arms encircled each other and we both held us close and tight. Her face was against my neck and my face was against her hair, and we stood and felt the carpet on our toes and our bodies warm and close. I felt myself relax into her and sigh, and her voice smiled and said, “there, is that not right?”

I then lay belly down on the quilted table, my arms hanging low, a small pillow for my head. A click and some gentle music began to play, and to the rhythm of the music she began a massage from my head to my toes. She explained the various oils and unguents, what their effect was and where they came from. Her gentle voice was soothing and trance like, her hands and fingers pushing and pulling at my skin and muscles were pulling the tension out of my body. She then began to teach me to breath with each eskort görükle movement, deep into my belly and tense one two, out with a sigh three four.

She encouraged my noise from deep in my throat, and I found I could sigh like a breeze, purr like a kitten and growl like a man. “People fear their blockages, and the throat is one such block, make noise, cry out, let yourself, find your voice.” Her voice was soothing, constant, encouraging, lilting, beautiful. I then began to realise that the music was changing its pace, its tension, it too had a voice breathing deep and regular, deep and rich, harmonising with my breath, hah hah hah, ohhhh. I also registered that her touch was becoming lighter, long and languorous down my back, down my legs, over the backs of my knees, over my feet. I felt a pulse at the base of my belly and warmth in my cock and ass.

My legs slipped apart and her hands found the inner softness of my thighs…and then tantalisingly moved down my legs to my shins and ankles. And then a long single trace of finger moved back up my leg and lightly touched my cock lying between my legs and my ass cheeks tensed up and my back arched an inch or so, and I felt a slow trance-like touch over my opening and up over the crease of my rear and then up my spine. God this was ever so nice, and so slow unrushed and my whole body filling with warmth and blood.

And then she was gone, her hands had left my body. I heard a smooth slide of cloth, and I wondered what she was doing — she wasn’t wearing much to take off…. I then realised she had walked around to the head of the table, and I felt a soft waft of cloth over my face, I opened my eyes to see her right in front of me, the base of her belly now naked, the froth of black lace was gone.

She lingered there for a moment, letting my eyes feast on the small strip of hair above her lips, and her smooth thighs. “A landing strip for a sky pilot,” she said, with a laugh in her voice, “you can turn over now.” As I turned and lay on my back I could feel my cock full but not hard, warm with a slight pulse, my nipples also hot and full. I was so aware of my body, I was so incredibly alive, was this getting near to bliss?

She was now back down by my feet, at the base of table. I looked at her nude cheeks and thought, bit too skinny, but that’s still rather nice — the middle part of her body now pale flesh glowing in the candle light, black stockings on her legs and the slash of black cloth across her back and covering her breasts. She said, “I’ll just put these on you,” and slid her knickers up my legs and over my cock. “That looks really nice, a little treat for my eyes,” she said, and a nice little kink for me. I’d not felt lace around my groin before, so here was something delightful, something new.

The music had resumed its slow gentle pace, now like a sea washing over me. She found a different oil now, one that left a heat over my chest and legs. Again, she started massaging my feet, pulling my toes long and firmly, her fingers tight between each toe. And then she said, “look”, and her hot mouth sucked on my toes, her tongue caressing where her fingers had been.

Ohh that was good, she knew to arouse my visual senses as well as her hot mouth sucking sucking my toes. My cock was filling now and pressing up against the lacy knickers, but still held by the clinging cloth. Now her hands were alternating between deep firm presses long up my legs and thighs, and light lingering fingers and the breath from her mouth. My balls were full and hot, but her fingers and palms teased around them, never touching but circling warmer closer.

Now her hands were on my belly and up over my chest, as she explained the chakras and their colours; deep red for the base of the body and the anus, earth and dirt; red for the base of the belly and genitals, sensuality and birth; orange for the navel, for drive and hunger; green kestel escort over the heart for love and compassion, breath; blue for the throat and voice and noise and crying out sighing; indigo for the third eye, brow, knowledge and intelligence; violet for the crown of the head, formless, supreme; and then all lights merged, white and pure and spiritual; oh so rare and not for today.

As she moved to my head she leant long over me, hands pushing down my chest, and I felt her slight breasts against my face and I offered them a kiss. She then moved beside me and took one hand, turned it palm up, and offered it to the warm place between her legs. Pressing down hard onto my hand she too sighed, and as she pushed onto my hand she leaned to my breast and nipped a nipple with her teeth, then sucked my nipple into her mouth and tongued it hard.

Both my nipples were full pointy and hard, and she pressed her palm against my other breast. Her cunt lips were oh so smooth as she rocked back and forth on my palm, hot and warm held in my hand. I ever so slightly curved my finger up as her groin and now ass cheeks ran over my hand, but I somehow knew that I must not push into her — if she wanted she would push down to me and she did. I felt a tight pucker of her asshole clench on the tip of my finger.

As she had taught, our breaths were in at the same time ah ah ah; out together oh oh oh; and the music was also breathing with us. I looked down and her eyes were closed as she sucked and caressed my breast and nipple, breathed hard on my chest, her legs now clenching onto my hand, trapping her warmth with my warmth but still just cupping her yoni.

Her tantric word yoni for sex lips and hair, very much more gentle than cunt, more meaningful than pussy, so much better than snatch. The Y is just like the split of her legs as they meet her belly, and the sensual essential divide; the O is the opening the hole and the sacred well, soft and fluid; the N is full lips and the labia, butterfly wings and smooth, opening and purple with blood, plump and lush; the I is the clitoris nub, hard and small and tightly peaking from her lips; oh that I could suck on it but not today….

And my cock now, with this pleasure and direct nerve from nipple to head, my cock now has swung free from her lace froth of cloth and is long and hard against my belly, her black cloth holding my full balls tight; and she reaches down and with both hands firmly caresses my sac and pulls them down and away from my body; hard and tight. And now she is slower, her sex leaves my palm, she moves down to the centre of the table and she is now focused on my cock, my centre, my vajra, my lingam.

She explains, voice husky now, that vajra is the thunderbolt and the prince’s rod from ancient eastern myth, and somehow so much more a splendid word than the western cock. But lingam I’m not so sure about, it is like tongue and softer. So cock vajra rod sceptre now — these are her words – hard and hot, both her hands rolling my balls and my shaft. This is much deeper and slower and richer than anything I have done myself or had done to me. This is teaching and I am taught.

She holds my rod firm in her hands, and oh an unexpected surprise, she lowers her mouth to my sceptre and tongues my shaft from the root of my sac to the top of my purple head and sucks hard, her cheeks sucked in. “Oh, I wanted to do that, I should have asked permission,” she murmured; “no permission needed,” I replied. God don’t stop. Stop, don’t stop, her mouth is so hot, don’t stop… And now she has climbed on to the end of the table, her thighs are straddling mine. She has removed her panties from me now, and places them over my face so I can smell my own musk. She has another oil now, thick and cold, and is massaging deep into my groin.

I’ve never felt so much pressure between my legs, her hands and fingers are long around bursa sınırsız escort my cock and hot around my balls. She spreads my legs wide apart and I am open to her hands and eyes and voice, I am breathing long slow and deep now, ahhh ahhh ahhh, ohhh ohhh ohhh, and she is calling the heat up through each of my centres and she is asking me to make my voice from deep in my chest and my throat, and I am deep and guttural and moaning long now and she urges me to grunt with each exhalation.

And on each in-breath she says clench your groin and ass and push that energy up your spine, and now on each in-breath she says, “I can see your rosebud pulsing and clenching, I’m going to put my finger on your hole and you will suck me into to your heat.” And her finger is nudging my ass hole and pushing into my core. This is so intimate and open and I trust her entirely, and she concentrates on my pulsing tightness and my heat, and suddenly her whole long finger is in my ass. “That’s it, hold me tight, pull me into your body your being, your sweet little rose bud is opening like a flower for me, clench my finger tight.” And now she is milking my cock and pulsing my inside with her finger, and her other hand is now firm and hard on my shaft and everything has a deep and rich rhythm now.

Her deep dark eyes, pupils wide, centre their gaze on my gaze and she silently commands me not to look away, not to close my eyes as my nipples tighten and my chest clenches and my whole cock and sex and hole and balls and hands and fingers breath long and ohhhh and she mercilessly pulses her finger and rubs hard along my shaft and the surf crashes and she is growling now with me growling we are like animals raw sex together and my whole body is my cock and my cock is my whole body and her finger is my cock and my cock is her finger and she is inside me and I am inside me feminine masculine open tight closed bliss ecstasy and my cock engorges a full rich red purple hardness smooth head hard shaft and I explode my pulsing ass hole sucking her finger into me and she cries out and I cry out semen pulsing from my depths and my core, milked by her finger and spurts over my belly.

Have I ever come so long and hard and so many pulses? god I don’t think so this has been exquisite open trusting, intimate. I didn’t know it would be this loving and together, not from a stranger, not in a strange room, but here was a room with a small place of bliss and softness. Gently she removes her finger from me, places her black knickers over my softening cock, and covers me with a warm towel. “Stay here for ten minutes, and get your breath back” she smiles at me, and I hear her move out of the room.

The music has been perfectly timed, and is soothing and peaceful , and its heart beat slows as does my own pulse. I doze, my body still radiating warm bliss. My fingers idly caress my chest — my nipples are still erect — and I can feel my come cooling on my belly. I feel her presence back in the room — she has now dressed and it is I that remain nude naked open in her room. I sit up slowly, and place my feet in the floor. “Earth yourself,” she says, “push your toes into the carpet, feel the solid floor beneath.”

I pull her black knickers up my legs, and walk unsteadily to the chair where my clothes are. As I dress (lace feels nice for the first time, I wonder if I shall do that some more?) we make small talk once more. I will take myself for a coffee on the way home, I won’t go back to work. We talk of some other books, and she mentions a new age book shop that would have other Tantra literature and also a sex shop just down the road that is run by a pair of enlightened white witches.

Respectable now, we stand and hug each other once again, professional and ready for parting this time. She kisses me on the lips, and I feel her tongue pulse against mine, just once. She smiles, “maybe I will see you again?” “Maybe – I think so.” When I am ready to learn some more, I think I shall be back.

Time passes, and time has passed. I did go back, several times. I never did see her breasts, and I never did taste her yoni directly, but my palm was often left with her scent. Sweet older teacher.

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