When we arrived on the first floor, Sylvana opened the door into what was evidently at one time a large kitchen, now old, that served as a lounge with funky couches and chairs. Every crack of this room smelled of feminine seduction. High heels, stockings, hand-mirrors, makeup, lingerie, leather, and all sorts of dresses were scattered around as if the wind had blown open all the closets and no one had ever bothered to put stuff back. It was a painful reminder of all the times in my life when I wanted to outfit myself in the traditional attire of the female species. I always failed. “Let’s go to the next floor,” Sylvana said, and I nodded in relief.
She led us up another flight of stairs and into a room which had no windows. It was decorated in black and dark purple paint and fabrics, except for the bed and the massage table, which were red with gold. A white candle, the only object on a small altar, stood out against a velvet curtain. The smell of incense filled the room. Next to the bed I saw a shelf that held a collection of sex toys. Most of all I noticed how silent this room was compared to the chaos of the streets below. I gladly accepted a glass of sparkling water from Sylvana and after a few minutes of polite conversation, she led me and Martha to the bed.
Sylvana kicked off her heels, sat down, and crossed her legs, saying nothing, then gestured to me to come sit on top of her in what they call “the position of Heaven and Earth” at Xtasia. I was to put my legs behind her back. This was easier said than done with my pants on. Her leather was evidently more flexible than my jeans. I managed the position, though not entirely balanced, and Martha settled behind me. Sylvana held me up firmly, closed her eyes, and at her suggestion we entered a brief period of silent meditation. Soon I was breathing more evenly and my heart had slowed. I was even able to calmly notice where I was: on her lap, her arms holding me up, my forehead touching her forehead. It was as if she had scanned me with some inner radar. I didn’t mind. When I had become present with our bodies and our breathing, Sylvana said a prayer. She spoke thoughtfully and precisely, acknowledging and welcoming my blend of feelings: nervous and excited, turned-on and scared, hopeful and suspicious. I was about to embark on yet another adventure in search of my orgasm. I felt held, not just by Sylvana’s arms and her lap, but also by her intention. Martha moved herself closer against my back. Her arms reached around me to Sylvana’s bare waist.
Sylvana’s breathing changed from deep and slow to deep and fast, then shallow and fast, and finally deep and slow. Martha and I breathed with her, as we had learned to do in the classes. I stopped when I felt somewhat dizzy, and so did Sylvana. But Sylvana’s pelvis did not stop moving. It was rocking back and forth. She had started with a minimum of movement against me, slowly making her rocking stronger and bigger. Our foreheads were not touching any longer, instead our breasts met. Every time she rolled her pelvis down, she pressed against my breasts. Every time she rolled her pelvis up, she left my breasts empty. Every time she rolled her pelvis up, her pubic bone pressed into my crotch. Every time she rolled her pelvis down, she left my crotch waiting and wanting. When Sylvana’s erotic energy got higher (which I had learned can happen just through breathing, squeezing the muscles of the pelvic floor and moving the pelvis), she slowed down, came almost to a halt but not quite. She leaned away from me, looked in my eyes while her fingers opened the buttons of my white shirt. She looked at me with those full red lips and I wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t know what, exactly, the protocol was. I had never been to a whore. Let alone to a Hora. She brought her mouth very close to mine. I drew back because of Martha. I didn’t know what the protocol was toward my lover, in this situation, either. Sylvana didn’t come closer, but didn’t stop teasing me, moving her tongue over her lips. She folded me out of my shirt with Martha’s help, took off her own bra, took hold of my torso, and pressed and rubbed her breasts strongly against mine.
“We need to find and play with your arousal first to get you ready for penetration. You know that, right, Vicky?” Sylvana smiled. I nodded, as if I knew. “There are many ways to accomplish this. But this is how you turn me on today…,” she said, while rubbing herself against me, pushing me away, pulling me back, pushing me away, pulling me against her. “Both of you together,” she continued, “just think of all the possibilities….” She flung her head toward my neck, her teeth nipped at me. The shock gave me a rush. I grabbed her hard. Sylvana’s arms easily reached Martha and pulled her against my back. It was a little clumsy but she managed also to remove Martha’s shirt. I was pressed between the two of them like meat in a sandwich. The sounds of heavy breathing surrounded me like columns of smoke, and I thought I might faint or scream. Martha’s familiar breasts, one smaller than the other, rolled against my back until Sylvana’s hands came in between to fondle them. My lover puffed and pressed more strongly against me. Sylvana pushed her slowly back until she was leaning against the pillows. A second later I was leaning against Martha. Three seconds later my pants were opened at the fly. Then, while fingers searched around my waist and inside my jeans, they were slowly stripped off. Strong hands touched me so softly and with so much attention. They slid over my naked legs making a trail of goose bumps toward my belly. From there they slid in reverse, then back toward my belly again.
After a thorough investigation, Sylvana put oil on her hands and massaged my legs. Especially my thighs. Especially my inner thighs. And, after that, my belly and pubic area. She pressed, slid, explored. Though we were surrounded by a trancelike beat from the music she had started, I heard nothing but the sound of her hands over my legs, on the inside of my thighs and closer and closer to the cave in between. She slithered, she pressed, she kneaded, she grabbed. She picked up one leg, then the other, lifting them, spreading them wide, before placing them back on the bed. There I sat with legs wide in front of a Hora, leaning against my love, on a bed in a brothel. My vulva, heavy with heat, would have opened no matter how I might have tried to keep her private. My runner’s legs softened under Sylvana’s fingers. She put Martha’s hands on my breasts to play with my nipples. I was being made ready. For what? To bake in the oven? To be taken? To be given? To be eaten? I was being made ready, but not entirely in the way I expected, if I expected anything at all. I assumed I was being prepared for penetration. That still scared me. I don’t know why it scared me. Martha fucked me often at home, but that was different—we are lovers.
Half to my relief and half to my disappointment, Sylvana stopped massaging me and leaned against the stack of pillows on her end of the bed. She unsnapped one button after the other down the flap of her leather pants. First her curly hair appeared. Then, slowly, her ornamented jewel was revealed. We had seen it many times in class, yet, between the creases of soft leather it was stronger still, more provocative with the collection of golden and silver rings in her labia. She pulled her pants off, leaned back, relaxed, made a move with her fingers along her mouth to pick up some saliva. Then she brought her hand down, made a circle around her clit, and opened her labia until all the rings lay on the side with a red, swollen, and glistening path between them. In the middle of that path, between the deepest lips, a small dark hole appeared. Sylvana pressed down from inside. Her cunt opened up to show a little mouth. She squeezed and closed the mouth like a sea-flower opens and closes with the waving of the currents. She opened and closed, opened and closed, until a pearl of musky milky juice appeared. My eyes became big. I salivated. Her excitement penetrated me from distance.
“May I give you my arousal?” Sylvana said. “Just so you know that you don’t have to do it all on your own. This is what we call savayam, masturbation, an erotic call to the core, only it is dakir-savayam—from me for you.” Sylvana rose from the bed. She went on touching herself while placing one foot on the bed. Her eyes hypnotized me, utterly unashamed. With her fingers still on her cunt, she walked over to the shelf and picked up a V-shaped black dildo. Each of the twin phalluses was thick, medium-long, and (even I thought so) handsome. She rolled a condom over one side and smeared it with lube, with evident gro
wing pleasure. She slowly slid her hand over it from top to bottom and bottom to top. And again. And again. And again, holding still at the top before sliding down. I thought she would devour the toy right then and there but instead she lay back down on the bed and let it rest between her legs. She went inside herself with two fingers, deliberately making sounds with the wet and swollen tissue. Her pelvis moved up and down, her torso lifted. Sylvana’s movemenets on her own fingers were slow, deep, and wholly sexual. Her eyes were half closed, yet never leaving us. She pulled her fingers out, pinched her swollen clit, and pulled her lips. The rings made tiny sounds as they dangled against each other. It looked very beautiful. She looked very beautiful. It occurred to me that she looked so beautiful precisely because she was really enjoying herself.
I felt between my legs. I was dripping.
“I must seduce you,” Sylvana said with a sultry voice, “not for my sake, but for life’s sake.”
“Uhhh…,” Martha groaned behind me.
“What?” I said at the same time.
“Vicky, and you too, Martha, I must seduce you, so you can open up…,” Sylvana sighed. “To find your full sexual power and pleasure, you need to open up, and to open up, I must seduce you…not for my sake, but for life’s sake.” Her voice trailed off. Both hands cupped her cunt. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t for her sake. I mean, I trusted that it wasn’t just for her own sake, but I didn’t have the impression that she was having a terrible time. She picked up the dildo. Her legs were so wide and the cock was so big. She slipped it in as easy as a snake swallows its prey. My eyes sucked up the sight as her cunt sucked up the cock. She moved it in and out, gently, with no hurry at all. Her swollen red flesh parted and sucked, parted and sucked. It made me drool and sigh. My hips moved of their own volition. I told Martha to squeeze my nipples harder. Sylvana’s chest was covered with perspiration and her movements became demanding and strong. She squatted, closed her eyes, and fucked the dildo hard and fast, holding on to one end of the twin phallus like a rider holds on to the pommel of a saddle. Her back and neck were arched backwards, her face distorted. She clenched her jaws, held still in midair, and fell back against the cushions, growling. She held her breath until a long sigh let all the air escape again. Then she opened her eyes, and the look in them seemed to move from being gone to being back to where we were. I went on touching my clit. Martha humped me from behind. Sylvana watched us as she moved her dildo quietly. Then she pulled it out, dried it with a towel, threw the towel and the dildo in a bucket on the floor, and reached down to wash her hands in a tub of water next to the bed. Her eyes never left us. When she dried her hands, I stopped touching myself. Sylvana leaned over and gave us a hug. She whispered in my ear: “Are you ready for me to massage you?” I nodded. Could I possibly become more ready?
“May I touch your clit?” Sylvana asked. I nodded again, leaning back against my lover. My clit was way past the stage of teasing, but Sylvana was busily trying to drive me insane. “I should say hello to her properly, shouldn’t I?” she said. “Can’t just come falling in the door, can I?” She caressed the edges of my clit with great gentleness. Then she stroked more forcefully—my clit, my lips, the space between my clit and my cave. I began to wonder if her teasing was intended to make me beg her to come inside of me. But that, I thought to myself, I would refuse to do. Begging was out of the question. Finally she took a latex glove, put it on her right hand, and asked if she could enter.
“Please…,” was all I could say.
“Remember that I’m not trying to make orgasms, all right?” Sylvana said. “Instead I’m looking for gates, places in your body that hold resistance in order to protect you.” I had heard about this before in class, but had forgotten. It was so hard to lie still. Normally I would have told Martha to fuck me hard a long time ago. So now I told Sylvana that was what I wanted. She refused. “That’s your usual way,” she said, “and it doesn’t give you all you want. We’re now trying something else.” My body was screaming! “That’s not easy, because your body is crying out for what it knows,” Sylvana said, with an irritating compassion that ran square into my ever wilder impatience. She held two fingers inside without moving. “Vicky, relax,” she ordered. “As terrible as it sounds, you must relax now…okay…breathe…yes…breathe into your belly. You have only two jobs, relax your cunt and breathe in and out of it…deep and easy…. See?” she asked with her eyes closed.
“See what?”
“Feel how you tense your muscles inside your cunt? You’ve got to let them go, baby, you got to relax them. You’re not running a marathon right now, remember? They need to learn to let go.”
I tried hard, but that was exactly the problem. I didn’t know how not to try.
“Breathe into your cunt, baby…with every exhale let those muscles relax more….”
I couldn’t do it. I felt how my muscles wanted to grab around Sylvana’s fingers and I began to be very frustrated. “Let’s do it in a different way,” she suggested. “Squeeze your muscles as if you have to pee real bad and have to hold it…yes…hold it…hold it…until you can’t hold it any longer…then let go…relax….” We did this about fifteen more times, and after each contraction and relaxation I could feel myself growing less tense inside.
Finally Sylvana seemed satisfied. “I want to tell your cunt that I won’t do anything she doesn’t want, all right? I want to learn to know her so she can know herself,” she said. With the ungloved hand on my lower belly, and the gloved hand inside me, Sylvana’s fingers made circles…pressed the ceiling of my cave…below…on all sides…shallow…deep…around my cervix…on and on. And I struggled to stay relaxed. As we had been told in class a hundred times, I felt much more sensation when I relaxed than when I was busy moving. In that moment I was immersed in the enjoyable feeling of fingers trying to loosen up knots in muscles. “This is your sacrum, this is your tail. Ligaments connect them to muscles we use for walking and running, all these tissues are connected.” Sylvana explained in her scholarly anti-sexy voice which nevertheless cast a spell. She kept pressing gently as if she were massaging a tight muscle.
I didn’t notice when her fingers had changed from massaging to fucking; it must have happened gradually. She slid back and forth through my slippery stuff without taking her fingers out. She roamed around, gliding in my wetness. I became the inside of an elastic, ever expanding, rubber ball. My body tingled all over. It made me rub my arms, shoulders, and chest. Sylvana didn’t move hard or fast. ”Nowhere to go…” I’d heard the phrase a thousand times in the classes. Sylvana reassured me that it was not easy to relax, to break patterns that had been ingrained in my body and mind as ruts of arousal. It helped that Martha and Sylvana were breathing and making sounds with me. Sylvana kept massaging, sliding, fucking, licking me inside with her fingers, never hard, always smooth; she swiped her fingers from left to right along my pubic bone; she came back to the ceiling and…hit a spot, which made me jump and scream!
“G-spot, baby…zumah, we call it…,” she said and held her hand still. Her pressing on that spot had felt a bit too strong and I said so. But, immediately afterward I wanted to be taken that way, strong, again. I said that, too. “I won’t…,” was Sylvana’s reply, her eyes glued to mine, “at least not yet. All that rough stimulation probably had the opposite effect of what you’re looking for….”
“How so?” I asked, insulted.
“It can desensitize your tissue…. Put that on top of the assaulting messages we hear about sex…” Her concentration was in her hands, she pressed and released against my ceiling, steadily, firmly, but still in the same smooth way. “…And voila, a sensitive organ puts up walls…of course….”
I was well aware of the impact of the mind on the body, so I didn’t need to argue with her. It just seemed that I was arguing with my own body.
Finally she will fuck me, I thought, when Sylvana consistently rubbed back and forth along the ceiling of my…“cunt,” my “holy well.” Someti
mes I forgot to relax. As soon as I did Sylvana stopped moving. She said, “These are all little gates that try to distract you from feeling more…just give them time to relax again…and I’ll see if they’ll let me in….”
After what must have been at least forty-five minutes, during which time all three of us were busy being concentrated excavators of some sort, Sylvana groaned, “She’s opening wider and wider, baby…. I’m going to add a third finger…if that’s too much, let me know…and if I go too hard, let me know.” It wasn’t too much and it wasn’t too hard. What she was doing just made it more difficult, again, to lie still. “You can move,” she allowed generously, “just pay attention that you don’t cramp up inside. And keep breathing, it will help you to relax.”
Her fingers were pressing, caressing, and wiping several notches stronger now. I was breathing faster and deeper automatically. I pressed myself against Martha and my pelvis rocked up and down automatically. I wanted her to do me strong so badly! I thrust my pelvis toward Sylvana and she didn’t stop me. In fact she encouraged me to move, breathe, and make sounds. She worked my zumah directly and methodically but also with restraint. Then the vibrator effect was there: her fingers pressed and released against my ceiling in rapid speed. I watched her strong shoulder as she thrust her arm and hand in and out of me. I closed my eyes. It felt as though her entire body was penetrating me. At the same time, Martha was holding me, moving with me, moving against me, breathing with me as if I was about to deliver a baby. Everything went faster and stronger. I couldn’t keep track of everything going on inside and outside.
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