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October 31, 1999. It was my friend Stuart’s fifty-fourth birthday and I had before me a delicious meal that was to be followed by birthday cake. Indeed, as we got stuck into the cake and ignored the trick or treaters, I thought about his business. Hot Stones was an empire specialising in multiple forms of massage. Swedish, Thai, sports and of course, the actual hot stones. That and the yoga classes were the G rated side of stuff. It got a bit more R rated with couple’s sex therapy and also teaching and providing tantric massage to both men and women. Stuart hadn’t done the hands-on thing for a while. If anything, normal massage was his everyday bread and butter.
“When did you last provide tantric massage?”
“Not for many years. 1989 was probably the last time. I haven’t taught it since then either because my demonstration model is no longer with us. When Tracy passed away, I passed the role onto someone else. Now we have a lot of teachers and providers. Not all Hot Stones do it. The one I do the normal massage at is just down the road from here. It does the tantric as well. Just not the teaching, I did the therapies for a while too but I found it a bit hard when I was having issues with my own love life. Why you ask?”
“Would you still remember how to do it?”
“Of course. For me, it was like riding a bike. I still remember the day I first came across it. It was Tracy who did it to me. The lingam massage. It was a whole new world for me. I wanted to learn how to do that. How to make other people feel like that.”
“Would you do it to me?”
“Of course, I would.”
“Why haven’t you before?”
He smiled broadly. I knew I had ignited something in him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I knew you wouldn’t just do that. But I do want to surrender to you. It is not just because I want you to touch me. I feel messed up and tense. Suppose you could blame it on the fact I feel a bit seedy know what I did in the last fourteen years.”
“Just wait here, I am going to run the bath. I have a ritual for this and I may struggle to remember the order of things. When the bath is ready, I will come and get you. I will help you undress and we can begin.”
I hadn’t gone over there with an expectation but I was genuinely interested in why he made certain decisions around life. I found Stuart to be forever fascinating. He was like the other family members I had met. I had met them all. The two uncles Rob and Quentin. The aunts Martina and June. The nine cousins. The eighteen or so second cousins and there was a light smattering of third cousins because the second cousins were just starting to get married and what not. They were all extroverted, intelligent and creative with a certain “something”. I knew that to be true because the first man my best friend slept with after her divorce was Peter, the newly divorced cousin of Stuart who was also the bass player in her band. She couldn’t help herself – she openly admitted she used him as fantasy material for years.
Next thing I know, Stuart had returned. Taking my hand, he led me to his ensuite with a sumptuous bath scented wonderfully. innovia escort He lifted my dress off and there I was in a lace bra and panties.
“I hate saying this but that is a beautiful set. Did my sister design it?”
“Feels a shame to take it off…it is that internal struggle of mine. The body is a temple and the yoni is to be respected. But I also have things I know I am attracted to and things I find arousing. Well, I did always fancy a sexually dominant woman wearing lace. I admit I didn’t offer this because I wanted to keep spiritual and sexual apart. But I cannot in this case.”
He unhooked my bra and slid my panties down my legs. I was as bare as the day I was born, bar the slave collar I wore on an almost permanent basis because I was Stephen’s pet. I didn’t have to take it off, it was waterproof. The gentlest of water jets as he had the loofah in hand and the water cascaded aromatic suds over me. I hadn’t been bathed like that since 1981. I kid you not. Having a bath and someone wash you just didn’t occur to me…there was nothing sexual about it but I couldn’t resist having nipples go stiff. The background music was most pleasing. I suppose Enya could be a cliché but my god, it works.
“I almost feel like I could sleep. I feel a lot less tense already. I am glad you could be honest with me about that dilemma you face when confronted with me.”
“Better out than in. Well, I hope I sufficiently cleansed the soul there. Come along now, the bed will be most inviting.”
He was not wrong. The room had a hazy glow from slightly dimmed lights. So I lay down, slightly propped up with my legs apart and knees up. Now that kind of position is not too dissimilar to the one a woman has to get into when having medical stuff done. I hated the fact it turned me on way too much. I was not trying to see this thing that way though.
“Now be aware, I am not perfect at this any more and it is probably more sexual than I perhaps would have had it back in the day. Orgasm is not the aim, it is a pleasant side effect. Now you with those beautiful blue eyes. Look at me, and keep looking at me. You helped me with my sexual healing all those years ago. It is your turn now. Granted, things have been far nicer for you of late. The last record you made was very playful and I enjoyed it a great deal. That music video…there you were in this girly pink lingerie set. I love that. Then there is the fact you are out there at the premieres and award ceremonies again. The world really needed to see you smile again because it is a smile that shatters glass with radiance. Love puts a spring in your step and you almost cannot believe the lover is into you. He is, trust me! Then there is that almighty piece of heaven which is knowing this time,it is for real.”
“So will I still have a damaged and tense yoni then?”
“Well, yes. Your ex-husband did some fucking horrible things to you. He violated you. Physically, emotionally. People who are the definition of ‘pot calling kettle black’. A certain person comes to mind. She berated and belittled you to istanbul escort the “Woman’s Weekly”. Yet she was making plans to run off with your ex back in 1985. You never trashed her even though you wanted to. Match your breathing to mine, lover.”
Rhythmic breathing and eye contact were cornerstones for this sort of thing. The oil he had smelt divine. It was a hot night so the scent was particularly strong. I felt it drip all over me like some glistening waterfall, as some seeped between my legs. It then became alluring. As his hands worked the oil into my body, I could feel muscles unwind. I was transported back to a memory I had forgotten about. The year was 1979. I was seven months pregnant with my fourth child. My manager was to my left and rather fond of one of the girls on the stage. Friends looked on in wonderment as their relationships with people on the stage were ever increasing. My eyes were all over the place. There was my best friend. A young up and coming musician who would later become my sidekick. The old boyfriend was commanding the stage and close by, was the shorter almost identical brother., who happened to be Stuart. He kept beaming in delight at me and I admit, I was rather taken with his impassioned keys playing that night. I have seen photos from afterwards. Here I was standing between the two brothers, and there was this feeling of belonging there.
He kissed me. I hadn’t expected it and at first, I was not sure how to kiss him back. Then it turned rather passionate. Oh, I knew how to respond. Again, I ended up being transported elsewhere as his hands continued to knead me like delicious dough. Oh yes, bread. The loaves were fresh on the set of a music video which marked the most controversial moment in my career. Oh, I did love the red rubber gloves and underwear and the thigh high boots were wonderful. All finished off with a shifty Darren Pine dress. The end of the shoot did involve hands running along bodies and a kiss at the end. The kiss was intended to be passionate. What I hadn’t expected was for it to be so damn enjoyable and it made me feel guilty.
I was almost embarrassed by my stiff nipples. My eyes were on him. It was almost enough to make me want to get up and run but by the same token, I was falling into the deepest of bliss. The oil was worked into my thighs as he ran a finger between my lips. Not the lips on my face…it was the slowest of manipulations down there. My mind again drifted into another memory I had forgotten. 1987, and we were in Hawaii at the A’a Estate. The recording sessions were loaded with tension, romance, alcohol and kava. One evening I partook in the kava with Stuart and Tracy. Both talked about massage and how it could be used. I took the knowledge I learnt and took it back to the bungalow. Let it be said my boobs gave me pleasure that night. I then thought back to 1993. It had been a night of drugs and drink and I ended up with Stuart in my bed. In the morning he sensed my hurt.
“Kitty, if you need to cry, do so.”
So I did. I had read somewhere it tended to be a highly emotional experience. kadıköy escort I just let the tears run. Circular motions around my clitoris. His movements were perfect in that it was enough to heighten the pleasure without getting me too close to the edge.
“Are you comfortable, lover?”
“Do I have permission to enter your yoni?”
I felt two fingers slip into me and explore the yoni. I did feel tense and tight and not in a good way. He spread his fingers, sweeping the walls of my pussy to work away at the tight spots. I was warned at times it would feel uncomfortable. It did…just for a wee bit.
“It is not just the stress of violation that has left you with a tense and worried yoni. It is that you carry so much guilt about the things you do. We wouldn’t do this if it was not within the confines of acceptance. So why not let it just wash away.”
The fingers curved upwards towards my G spot. Holy crap…I was way too self-conscious of the mess I was making and it was damn hard to keep the breathing steady and maintain the eye contact. I felt the unmistakable urge to go to the bathroom. I became almost fearful of him speaking lest I boiled over.
“Do I have permission to enter your backside?”
It was almost as if his hands were perfectly designed for this. His little finger slid into my ass. I have never tried so hard not to just orgasm right there and then. I managed to sustain the waves of pleasure for the longest time. Trust me, not easy when you are looking right at one another. I could no longer remain silent. Glad in a way he didn’t have close neighbours – he actually didn’t live in Sydney, he was up in the Blue Mountains, in Leura. A hand on my lower belly, checking my breathing via the womb. Breathing that was becoming increasingly erratic.
It was like every muscle fibre snapped. I shook so badly, I thought I was going to come off the bed. No words to be said. I crushed his fingers with the strength of the orgasm and I watched in glee as I squirted him in the face. He giggled as he slowly removed his fingers and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe his face.
“Thank you, Kitty. You know when I used to teach this, Tracy never did that. To see a woman ejaculate is pretty special. it was considered bad form to get an erection whilst doing so. I was very good at not seeing it as a sexual thing.”
“No, thank you. That was wonderful. You were respectful.”
“Now I am not supposed to feel like I just want to fuck you so bad straight afterwards. But I do. At one point I thought I was going to cum through thought alone.”
“You are out of practice?”
“No. May I?”
“Of course. I need to feel you in me, Stuart.”
No sooner had he put the rubber on, I found myself straddling his legs whilst sitting upright. Advantages to Stuart included the fact he was shorter than the others. Made some positions a lot more achievable. I tightened my muscles around him in a rhythmic wave. Again, we maintained eye contact. It felt like diving into an endless pool when he hit orgasm. I suppose it could be said it ruined the experience. Oh, sod off. It was perfect.
I woke up in the morning to the stereo in the lounge playing “Dance On A Volcano” by Genesis. He returned to bed. I don’t think I went home until quite late. Sex isn’t what keeps our musician family together. Music was always the original foundation.
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