Yoga – and Blessings of Darkness

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Babes

Dinnertime, second day of your five-day intensive yoga retreat.

In the ten seconds it took you to read the ad and to understand the layout of the sleeping area, your plan had popped into your mind unasked and fully formed. You had simply amazed yourself – things like this were unknown territory for you. You were convinced that if you had actually TRIED to come up with this plan, you simply could not have done so. Therefore HOORAY for the unconscious mind!

So far the plan was working to perfection. As part of it, you managed to sit next to HIM at meals both yesterday and today. And also to spend all of each daily eight-hour yoga session right beside him. But there is a small problem – HE is being just too damned much the perfect gentleman, despite months (actually, years!) of mutual gentle (almost but not quite secret) ogling in class. It never occurs to you that maybe HE could actually be a little shy?! How on Earth could that be? HE’s so much older, more experienced, more worldly than YOU!

The shivery feeling in your belly finally convinces you – if there is to be any action, you must start it. You spend precious minutes getting your courage up, waiting… then (hooray! finally!) the others at your table rise together and leave en masse.

You are momentarily alone with him for the first time in the retreat. Heart in mouth, and working at the very outermost limit of your courage, you lay a hand atop HIS and say, very softly, “Can I come visit you? After the lights are out?” It is hard to believe that you actually got the words out. HE is startled into speechlessness – that pleases you immensely.

Even better is HIS hand squeeze and HIS eventual reply – “I’d love it.” Then, “I’ve wanted that since the day we met.” That meeting was four years ago: and you have had no idea that he might actually (as in ‘serious, not just mild flirting’) be interested! You are stunned, pleased, find it hard to breathe.

You’re an immigrant, been here for two decades. As you slowly absorbed your new culture, you grew disgusted at the hypocrisy of your old one – especially about sex. Their ‘official’ teaching was that sex was bad, nasty, evil and to be avoided — yet fucking went on at all times and in all directions. And if sex was genuinely bad, it was DOUBLY bad -forbidden- for a “respectable, nice” woman to get any pleasure from it. And TRIPLY forbidden for her to take any initiative in sex.

Eventually your years of thinking about this sad state of affairs had produced tonight. All that THINKING was a big part of what brought you to this moment… but of course the quivering, shivering, wide-open full-throttle lust you feel for HIM has certainly helped things along! In fact, it is a huge victory for you just being able to admit to yourself that you have such feelings for HIM! You also admit that you hope and feel there’s that there’s at least a CHANCE that something else might develop – a ‘relationship’ perhaps? That would be too wonderful for words… but for the moment lust must be enough.

The triggering event leading to this adventure happened six weeks ago – you have identified it, and you wonder if HE has any idea? Maybe later you can ask him – it would be nice to know. After yoga class, HE initiated a conversation that had strong, obvious overtones of sexual interest – showing HIS interest in YOU! A first! You were flabbergasted, especially when HE told you in no uncertain terms, in very plain English, that HE thought your body and face were extremely attractive, quite extraordinarily sexy. It had never, ever occurred to you that any man could say such things about you – and mean them… but it was clear from HIS face that HE meant every word.

The whole idea of yourself as sexy, the idea of your flat-chested and asian-butted self as SEXY, had floored you. In fact, it took you over a week of HIS gentle daily reminders to understand just how sincere HE was. It was amazing, almost scary…and liberating. All at once. Revolutionary! And OMG what a flood of lust it had set loose inside you!

Then came the ad in the yoga magazine, and then came your plan. It was you who suggested this outing – almost trembling at your own boldness – and OhMyGod HE had accepted the idea.

Instantly, enthusiastically.

And here you are. Together.

Wow.

Sleeping arrangements are primitive … twenty-four students, some couples, some singles, in this big old wood-floored gymnasium, the space divided into cubicles by blankets hung on ropes. Futons on the floor. Not romantic or ritzy, just barely adequate. Almost black-dark at night, when lights are off. Bits of white tape on the floor mark streets and doorways, and a path to the bathroom. Blankets hung from overhead clotheslines for walls, hence no sound privacy at all. How quiet can a couple be? You wonder if just maybe there might be another couple or two out there with similar intentions?

HE asks, “What time?”

Your insides have now turned to jelly – this is an absolute first for maltepe escort you. YOU! The shy little immigrant girl all grown up and declaring her independence! And things seem to be going well! “Ten” you say, barely breathing – “It’s eight now…lights go out at nine.”

HE nods, grins. After two long days of intense high-level yoga, everyone else is going to be deep in sleep by ten: HE understands. Good planning. In fact, even your body’s cycle is cooperating, for once! The grin turns your pussy into a swamp.

HE asks, “You know my cubicle?”

Of course you know! It happens to be (more good luck!) at the far edge of the little village. You just nod: even doing that takes real effort. HE squeezes your hand – hard – and says “Until ten. Sharp!”

Your belly is doing backflips and your armpits have never – NEVER! – been this wet before, not in this lifetime, and likely not in any other.

No two hours in human history have passed this slowly – your body is SO ready! In fact, you realize, it has been ready for four years, ever since day one. Waiting in the dark, studying your watch, you realize this body of yours had been ready for much longer than that – perhaps your attraction to HIM was the real trigger for all this, the advert being merely your mind’s excuse?

Lights went out at nine: it’s now ten exactly, time for action! Around you, nothing save the sounds of people sleeping. You have been naked in your personal dark space for an hour, wrapped in the facility’s big terrycloth towel. The towel has been pleasuring your nipples nonstop as you breathe, the sensations making you squeeze your thighs together, almost coming time after time – but you hold off. None of that for you tonight – hopefully there will be no need. Your plan, your hope, is for something very, VERY much better!

You stand – bare feet soundless on varnished cool wood. That’s good. Your tiny key-ring light shows the floor markings. Thirty seconds to travel what, fifty feet, max? Part of your mind wonders what might be going on in those other cubicles?

Now at HIS door – just a blanket like all the others. You hope, expect, that your independence lies on the other side of it. You take a long, silent breath, reach for the invisible edge.

Here we go, you think.

Oh My God!

The blanket moves with perfect silence. The blackness in his space is almost total… all you can see is a vague shape on the floor, outlined against the lighter darkness of the futon. You step inside, sliding your feet gently forward, maintaining absolute silence. Time to drop the towel… carefully, carefully. Naked now, covered with goose-bumps, you stand there, waiting. What to do next? You are completely unsure.

Then HIS fingertips touch your calf, take possession of your legs, slide upwards, sensation explodes in your brain as HIS palms slide over the backs of your knees. What a delicious touch HE has! You gasp, but still aren’t quite sure what to do: HE decides for you both, grips your thighs, then HIS big, beautiful, heavy-veined hands, the hands you’ve been fantasizing over for four years, gently pull you down to meet HIM.

HE is on his knees, as are you, your bodies still a foot apart. You seem to be momentarily paralyzed, HE moves first, begins with long slow loving wet kisses down your chest, starting at the midline of your throat. You could not have asked for better. HIS beautiful, luscious mouth atop your swollen hard nipples. Inhaling them, back and forth. Nursing – a white-hot sensation. You wish for the thousandth time that you had bigger boobs, but that thought disappears in the sensations HE is providing – maybe tit-size isn’t important after all? At least, not to HIM, or not right here with YOU!

Then your mouths meet. How long have you dreamed of this, not knowing what it might actually be like? It far exceeds your wildest expectations… deep and hot and wet, beyond your imaginings, hopes, dreams.

Your whole insides are boiling now, you can feel the wetness beginning to actually ooze from your pussy, every belly muscle that can work is alive and squirming, every opening to your body is puckering and pulsing and screaming for attention. It is a lovely feeling – nearly seasick but nicely so. It is scary, being so close to out of control. But doing – actually DOING! – something this reckless and erotic and forbidden – actually doing instead of dreaming…WOW!

Almost giggling, you realize that you will never, NEVER be able to tell your many sisters about this. But so what? You are impressed with yourself. Justifiably. This is for YOU, nobody else. The end result of that extended process of growth and self-examination. This evening is a coming-of-age, an initiation ceremony, a personal declaration of independence from all the nonsense taught to you as a child… permanently getting rid of all intentional misinformation and intentional ignorance and idiotic social rules imposed on you and on your spirit. Tonight.

Beginning NOW.

The mamak escort darkness strips you of your primary sense – sight- but that isn’t all bad, because it also hides you, which prevents the paralysis of embarrassment at being seen, watched, studied. By HIM. The enforced silence strips you of another sense – hearing, sound. You are left with three… touch, smell, taste. They will have to do. You grin to yourself – “Oh…” you think, “… they’ll do just fine!” You take the initiative again (independence!), ever so gently use your hands to lay HIM backwards, onto his back. Taking charge feels amazingly powerful. Intoxicating.

With HIM now flat on the futon, your hands move towards what you cannot see but know is there. Touch – your whole nervous system is concentrated in your skin now, fingertips astoundingly sensitive to surfaces, textures, movements in and under HIS skin. Touch. Your fingertips, palms, even your cheek, sliding everywhere, calves, biceps, belly, thighs, sides of buttocks. Everything HE has, or is, is available, all yours!

Finally, having teased both of you long enough, you move to HIS cock – hard, slightly curved, standing up in the darkness, so ready. Bigger than you expected, and a completely different texture. It throbs in your grip. HE must really and truly like you! Or at least, HE has a lust-level very like your own. A lovely compliment. HIS cock – a long, solid central hardness wrapped in loose skin. The mysteries of the head all velvety soft-hard. Balls in your hand, strange beasties, soft marbles in oil, so moveable. HE gasps -you feel it but do not hear it: you grin inwardly – so sensitive!

But you worry – are you doing things ‘right’?

What does ‘doing things right’ MEAN?

The reality is, you have little knowledge, and less experience, to guide you. But you have read the standard user’s manuals for the male and female bodies – meaning you’ve read all the gory details over and over in your women’s novels. Thank god for bodice-rippers, for those authors’ unending passion for detailed descriptions. With them for guides, you are managing, actually doing quite well.

HE seems remarkably content, for the moment, to let you play. Amazingly unembarrassed, freed by the dark and silence, you send your mouth and nose on an expedition, collecting sensations from the tender soft salty fold where his ball-sac meets inner thigh. Farther afield, you nuzzle his neck, his armpit with its sparse tuft. The smells, tastes, touches – forbidden so long and desired so deeply – are driving you crazy.

This is SO much better than your fantasies! It is like experiencing a new drug. You know already, after five minutes, that you are forever addicted.

Yes, certainly, you are a newbie, an amateur… but you are doing something right, HIS belly under your hand jerks and shakes as you touch HIM – you suspect that you know exactly what HE is feeling. Making HIM feel that way gives you a big shot of confidence.

You have for years wondered about this next move, it is time to try – the head of HIS cock fits your mouth perfectly, as if designed for it. Perhaps it was!? Your tongue washes over it, studying. HE jerks again. And again. You can feel HIM breathing under tightest control, not allowing to escape any of the sounds HE needs to make. You realize that HE must be in as much agony of anticipation as yourself. Then HIS hand is sliding down your belly, slipping between your legs, taking possession of your pussy. The drooling dribbling wetness make everything possible. You shake as HE presses, enters. One finger slides into your pussy, deep, stirring your insides. Another slips unobstructed into your bottom, making sensations both unexpected and intense – that penetration would be frightening if it didn’t feel so RIGHT.

Thumb on clit, HE is SOOOO knowledgeable, you come in seconds, huge spasms shaking your body, making four solid, spastic fists. Remaining silent seems to be the most difficult thing you have ever attempted.

HE urges you upwards, you are again unsure what to expect, what to do… once again you let him guide. HE understands, HIS hands -those big, strong, muscular oh-so-SEXY hands- settle on your hips, raise your body, set you atop HIS erection, your thighs straddling HIS, gripping hard. HIS stiff thigh-hairs nip like impossible tiny teeth on your own legs’ skin, making the muscles in your lower back clamp down. You realize just how strong HE is: that strength adds something to the mix…not fear, but awareness of the difference between you and HIM.

Now, settled in place, it is as if HIS cock and your pussy have been talking about this for years – things just fit. Perfectly. You take another deep breath and settle, slowly, slowly, as HIS hands guide. Now you are magnificently filled with HIM, and your clit is trapped firmly between your pubic bones. The gentle grinding pressure produces incredible lightning. HIS hands and hips help you set up a rhythm – you modify it, HE responds, ankara escort you silently agree on the details. THIS is the point of all those lustful feelings – the goal. Your hands search to find HIS, bring one up to your red-hot rock-hard nipples, the other to your mouth – two fingers gripped in your teeth help ensure your own silence.

You wonder just how deep HE can go inside you, then lose the thought. In thirty more seconds, you are quite certain, you will be coming again. Very soon.

You are correct. Your insides are pulsing around him, your legs are quivering. Thank god for the darkness so he cannot see the straining tension, the cranberry redness, of your face and chest. Maybe someday you could stand having HIM see you in the throes this way, but not now.

‘Someday’ suggests future encounters… not yet time to go THERE! Concentrate on the present. When your spasms finally subside, HE is laying you down on your belly, pulling your butt into the air like a cat in heat asking for her mate. When HIS cock-head touches your anus you realize what HE is asking – there is no demand here, just an unspoken invisible silent request for permission – and after half a moment of hesitation you decide what the hell, HE knows what he’s doing, this can be just another added chapter to the whole adventure, and you relax to let HIM in.

Entry through that ‘wrong’ portal is astoundingly sensual. Instantly you are fuller than you have ever been, HIS cock seems headed for the back of your throat, advancing into your body and soul both, in long, LONG and very slow strokes, hands under you on nipples and clit, then (when? ten seconds? half an hour? Who can tell, who cares?) HE is coming deep inside, HIS cock is jumping and jerking like a separate living thing, while you are collapsing together in slow motion.

Has there ever been anything so delicious as lying beneath HIM, with HIS cock still buried in your body, HIS arms around you, so close and warm and SAFE!? “Safe”, you ask yourself… “how did THAT get into the equation?” But it belongs. You know it, without thinking – you are SAFE here. If there is any tension left in your body, it drains instantly away.

Talk seems utterly unnecessary – even if it were possible, there seems to be nothing that needs to be put into words – perhaps at this moment nothing between you COULD be put into words? You have never had such intense communication with another human – much less a man! – and it is SOUNDLESS, SIGHTLESS.

Utterly amazing.

But pay attention – HE is kissing your hairline, earlobes, tilting your head to get at your mouth – you aid him in every possible way, then HE is loosening HIS grip, rolling you over, HIS face sliding down your belly.

You know exactly where HE is going, part of you screams “NO! Evil! Dirty!” while the other part screams even more loudly “YES! YES! Do it do it do it!”

DO IT! wins.

Of course!

There has never in the history of the universe been anything so magnificent, so pleasurable, as HIS mouth on your clit. HE is a gourmet, an expert, and tonight HE is your lover and friend and liberator all at once. How you remain silent is forever a mystery, but you do so. HE understands, too, exactly when to back off, let you settle, and then you are lying entwined like a vine and its tree, full-length, total body contact, kissing, HIS hands moving ceaselessly over your body, showing you nerves you had no idea existed. You return the caresses and hope that, somehow, all this has been as good for HIM as for you, and then as if HE read your thoughts HE is telling you just exactly that, using only touches, no words.

Two hours pass: breathing normally now, you decide, reluctantly, that it is time for the adventure to end – even though you wish it could go on forever. You make the first move to leave, try to sit up, but HE will not let you. Lips at your ear, HE whispers using only the tiniest bit of breath, “Please don’t go. Can you stay the night?”

Then, unbelievably, “I need you. You have no idea how much. And not just tonight, either. Please stay!”

You relax back into your magnificent whole-body embrace, spooning, and from out of nowhere HIS hardon, fully re-grown and ready, reappears between your buttocks, slides deliciously into your pussy as if it had been doing this forever and ever, and things begins again. But oh so slowly – thirty seconds for half a stroke? Wonderful! You shove your hips back towards HIM and turn your head towards HIS, whispering “I’d like that very much. YES!”

You come awake abruptly – HE is asleep, breathing slowly, deeply with his head against your chest. Under your hand you can feel the slow beat of his heart. Abruptly, you realize OhMyGod there is light in the room, dim, but daylight. Have you ever slept so soundly, so comfortably? HE is still wrapped around you…no, better than that, you are both deep into a full-body mutual embrace, four arms, four legs, all mixed up together. You really, REALLY do not want to end this arrangement. You wonder what HE thinks, but no way can you ask HIM – neighbors are surely awake by now, they could hear. But that is a terribly important question…what DOES HE feel? You must know, you MUST find out, but how, when, where will you ever be able to ask HIM?

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