The Sleeping Serpent: A woman's struggle to break an obsessive bond with her yoga master

by Luna Saint Claire

Nico watched her as she retreated. What an amazing ass, he thought. More than that, he admired her tenacity.

  After class, Maya thanked him for teaching her the fearlessness kriya. He smiled and took her hand into his, then stroked her palm. “Maya,” he purred, “That’s such a beautiful name. We are all imperfect beings, limited in our ability to perceive and understand.” His words were almost a meditation in themselves, and she stood silently as he continued. “We form our own reality using whatever means of reasoning we have at our disposal. It’s not false. It’s just not the absolute truth. It’s only for us…and only at this time. It is…Maya.”

  Abruptly, Nico snapped out of it, gave her a double-cheek kiss and said, “See you tomorrow, Maya. Come early…before class.”

  20

  That night, for the first time since the accident, Maya didn’t have a nightmare. Was it possible that after only one session with Nico, the terrifying dreams had ceased to plague her? Instead, she dreamed about him. They were in the jungle, walking naked along a river and holding hands. It was dark, though the sky was filled with stars. But their path was illuminated by his eyes, beaming like a flashlight in the blackness. They walked endlessly, until they came upon a snake, and Nico knelt down, putting his ear near the serpent’s head. He spoke to the creature in a language she assumed was Quechua. The snake became their guide, and Nico said, “Do not be afraid. He will show us the way.”

  When Maya woke from the dream, she felt rested and surprisingly serene. She sensed the dream was significant, and she thought about Nico. More than handsome, he was exotic and sexy in a captivating way. All the girls talked about him in the locker room. But Maya thought he was more than that—she thought he was beautiful. The way he walked—and the way he spoke poetically about the meaning of her name. He was confident, and believing he possessed a power within that was connected to the life-force, she wanted to share that with him.

  After her private session, she believed in him. She could feel the energy inside her move, and she felt alive—more alive than ever before. Now, lying in bed recalling her dream and thinking about Nico, she felt the energy in her belly stir and a mild tingling sensation in her extremities. She could feel a fire inside her, burning. She closed her eyes again, hugging herself with her arms while she pictured him. Her hands moved down from her abdomen to the space between her legs. She could feel the fire there as she pressed her finger inside, where it was warm and wet. She slid her finger out and rubbed the slick wetness on her clitoris, feeling it stir to her touch. Putting her finger back inside, she continued teasing herself until her body was writhing, the wetness spilling out of her. In a matter of seconds, she fell apart. That was Nico—he’d reached across space and time to pleasure her—she was sure of it.

  When she got to the studio, she looked for him in the classroom to see if he was doing the same meditation as the day before, but he wasn’t there. Calling out his name, she heard him from beyond the office, “Maya, come in here!”

  Walking in, she saw him standing at the counter in the kitchen eating rice and beans.

  “I didn’t eat all day. Are you hungry?”

  Maya nodded and Nico dished up a plate of rice and beans for her. Taking a forkful, she smiled. “It’s delicious! What’s the herb I taste? It’s so fragrant.”

  Nico answered, “Oregano. Other than that, it’s just garlic and onions with the red beans.”

  “Well, I’m impressed, you’re a guru and a chef!”

  Her eyes quickly scanned the confines of his inner sanctum and landed on the guitar. “You play guitar?”

  “Yes, I do…mostly for myself.”

  “Will you play something for me?” she asked flirtatiously.

  “After you finish your plate,” he teased back.

  “Well then, I’ll hurry,” she countered. When Maya finished, she unconsciously licked her lips, then noticed Nico was still watching her.

  “So, do you like my cooking?” He grinned invitingly.

  “Very much!” She peered up from under her black lashes. “Now will you play for me?”

  Nico paused and locked eyes with her, lowering his voice to a serious purr, “Maya, I’m glad you came early. I like you. I’d like to know you better.”

  She froze, looking into the radiant green pools of his eyes. “Me too,” she whispered; the words almost didn’t come out.

  He picked up the guitar. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll just do a short song. You may know it.” He began singing a traditional Argentine folk song, and when he got to the chorus, he was pleased that Maya sang along with him.

  They both laughed when he shook his head and repeated the same verse a few times, not remembering the lyrics of all the verses. Maya chimed in with the refrain Amor salvaje, “Wild love,” which they both sang louder each time. When the song was over, he leaned in and kissed her quickly and softly on the lips—a kiss driven more by joy than passion. He stood up and placed the guitar against the side of the sofa. “Come, we’re going to be late for my class. It’s good you’re already dressed.”

  Nico took his place on the mat at the front, sitting cross-legged in a comfortable pose and resting his hands on his knees while he closed his eyes and meditated quietly. When he sensed the time was right and everyone was settled, he opened his eyes and said, “Namaste,” which the class repeated back to him.

  He began, “We’ll start by waking up kundalini. Using Rapid Breath of Fire, move the prana up to your heart—and third eye. This is a basic exercise we’ve been doing all along to clear toxins out of the body, raise our frequency, stretch our lungs, and oxygenate our blood. Now, let’s start by placing our hands together and repeat the guru mantra to elevate the spirit. It means “The ecstasy of consciousness is my beloved.” Then he began to chant, “Wahe guru, wahe guru…”

  Maya listened to him intently, his voice stirring something deep inside that she could not explain. She followed along with the class as each kriya was performed, easily matching the rapid breathing technique that went along with the exercises. As much as she could, she watched Nico, and her mind wandered repeatedly to the quick, gentle kiss he’d placed on her lips.

  Just as Maya thought the class was ending, Nico surprised everyone by teaching another meditation. She thought the kriya may actually have been for her personally, and that he was teaching the class along with her.

  “Shabd Kriya builds mental focus, concentration, and helps regenerate the body. Follow my instructions.” Nico sat in a cross-legged posture, resting his hands in Cosmic Mudra with thumb tips meeting. He continued, “This kriya uses Nasikagra Drishti—nose tip gazing. Look down at the tip of your nose, and if you get uncomfortable, rest your eyes for a moment, then resume. I’ll join in with you at first, then walk the room and observe. Continue this meditation until I say ‘Namaste,’ for the class to be over.”

  Maya gazed at the tip of her nose while she did the pranayama, but she really wanted to follow Nico with her eyes as he meandered silently down the aisles. After about ten minutes, she heard him say “Namaste.” The class replied, and everyone slowly rose and rolled up their mats.

  Maya waited for Nico to look at her, giving some signal she should come over to him, but he didn’t. Instead, he began talking to another student. Disappointed, she went into the locker room. She showered quickly and put on a pair of black cut-off denim shorts, with a semi-sheer slouchy T-shirt and her Frye boots. She fastened the Pamela Love bronze dagger necklace that she always wore for good luck around her neck, then shoved her yoga gear into her Proenza Schouler bag. The large PS1 black leather satchel was a gift from an Oscar winning action star who always did his own stunts and had taken Maya under his wing. He’d overheard her tell one of the Wardrobe girls that it was a really cool bag, but with a $2,000 price tag, one she would never buy for herself. When he heard she’d been injured, he surprised her by bringing it to her filled with snacks, magazines, and fancy toiletries to take the focus off the price.

  Walking out of the locker
room, she was startled to see Nico standing outside the door, waiting for her. “You women take forever to get ready. Come, we’re going to be late.”

  His eyes took in her long, lean, toned body, made slightly taller by the heels of the boots. Her legs were tanned on top of her naturally dark olive complexion. He smiled when his eyes finally rested on her face.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, mystified.

  “I need to go look at this space where I want to open a larger studio. You took so long, I’m going to be late. Do you want to come or not? I have to lock the door.”

  “Sure,” she answered, a bit flustered by his brusqueness.

  At his motorcycle, she put on the helmet and remained silent as Nico explained how to hold onto him and where to place her hands when they braked. She didn’t want to interrupt him and announce that, as a stunt actor, she drove bikes in movies at speeds well over one hundred miles per hour. She hoped he wouldn’t attempt to show off for her. That’s when accidents happen.

  They headed south on Laurel Canyon and down Melrose, turning left onto North Robertson. It was about a thirty minute ride, and Maya liked having her arms around Nico, feeling his taut muscles under her bare hands when she held him tighter on twisty Laurel Canyon going over the hill. Nico pulled over in front of a pretty building near Tagine, Ryan Gosling’s trendy Moroccan restaurant. Peeking in, Nico texted the realtor, and in a matter of minutes the agent pulled up and escorted them inside. Nico walked around the space with a sense of importance that Maya hadn’t expected, very unlike the gentle spirit she felt at Amaru. When the realtor left, Nico suggested they walk a few blocks along Wilshire to check out a space above the G-Star Raw men’s clothing store, saying, “That place is expensive…but I need to move to a better location and a bigger space.”

  After they left, Nico rattled off the pluses and minuses of each location. Finally, as if an afterthought, he asked Maya’s opinion, and she paused to think about it.

  “I think I prefer the Robertson space.”

  This piqued Nico’s curiosity and he asked, “Why? Isn’t Wilshire more prestigious?”

  “No,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I actually think Robertson is trendier, and Wilshire is more commercial. I mean, you have a BMW dealership, offices, and banks. But Robertson has Tagine. See what I mean? It’s a little more low-key, yet very chic.”

  Nico nodded and said, “Yes, I see what you mean. You’re right, and the rent is less!”

  “Nico, why do you feel you need to move from Studio City? I love your place, it’s so warm and comfortable. I love the chamber and your office—and your apartment is cozy and so convenient for the time in between sessions, to cook and play guitar.”

  “It’s comfortable, but the location isn’t suitable for my high-profile clientele.” He became boastful, “Did you see the photo in LA Social of me in Cannes? When the magazine interviewed me, they were surprised I’m located in Studio City. They expected me to have a Beverly Hills address. Do you understand?” He took her hand as they walked back toward the bike. “I need you to help me. I want you to promote me to your colleagues. Tell the actors, directors—everyone you work with to come to Amaru for private yoga and energy healing.”

  Maya asked tentatively, “Well, how much are private sessions?”

  Nico was firm. “I don’t discuss that in advance. I have to meet with the client and see what they need.”

  That seemed fair, Maya thought, like a doctor’s consultation.

  When they got to the bike, he put the helmet on her head, pushing her hair back behind her ears as he did so, then clipping it carefully under her chin. All the while he stared into her black eyes. “Your eyes are so dark. Are you sure you can see at night?”

  She laughed. “I think so.”

  Nico laughed and kissed her again sweetly on the lips. “Come, we’ll go back to my little studio that you like so much and I’ll make dinner.”

  Maya’s legs pressed gently against his thighs as they made their way back up Laurel Canyon. Nico pulled into the parking lot of the Vons supermarket. Handing her his helmet, he marched ahead, calling over his shoulder, “Get a cart.” Placing her bag in the front, she hurried to catch up to him. Maya followed him up and down each aisle before Nico stopped at a jar of Nutella. “Do you know what this is?”

  Laughing she said, “Of course! It’s delicious! But I dare not eat it often; it’s very fattening.”

  Examining the jar, he read the ingredients and thankfully put it back on the shelf. “Come. Let’s get a steak,” he announced and headed for the meat case. “The steak here is passable, but nothing like at home in Argentina,” he asserted, while carefully examining each one.

  As soon as they got back to the apartment, Nico got out the grill pan for the steak and began basting it with a green sauce.

  “What’s this?” she asked, bravely dipping her pinky in the bowl.

  “It’s chimichurri. I make my Ita’s recipe, and I put it on everything!”

  Maya watched him moving around the kitchen as he placed the steak on the pan. While it was searing he sliced the long baguette in half-inch thick slices. When the steak was done, he cut long strips, putting them on top of the baguette slices. Dunking one into the bowl of chimichurri sauce, he said, “Here, try this,” as he hand fed her the steak.

  Bits of green herbs stuck to the corner of her mouth, and he leaned in to lick it off with his tongue, causing a ripple of excitement up her spine. She boldly picked one up, dunked it into the sauce, and fed him.

  They sipped their wine and continued feeding each other for a while before Maya spoke. “Tell me about living with the Q’ero,” she inquired casually.

  Nico regaled her with stories from his past and then boasted about the documentary. When they finished eating, she took charge and washed the dishes while Nico scrolled through Netflix to find a movie. “Maya, did you see Skyfall?” he called out to her.

  “I know some of the stunt performers on that movie,” she called over to him. When she was finished in the kitchen she joined him on the sofa, taking off her boots and tucking her legs up underneath herself.

  Watching the film, Nico peppered her with questions, as if he didn’t believe she knew them. When she commented about one of her friend’s stunts, he asked, “Really? So who’s a better fighter?”

  Maya laughed. “Of course, she’s a terrific fighter. She was in Tomb Raider, and then a big job on Die Another Day.”

  “So those hot babes didn’t do their own fights?” he asked, incredulous.

  Maya laughed. “Nope!”

  Nico smiled at her. “Come here.” He pulled her close to him as he murmured, “My fighting jaguar.”

  This time he kissed her hard on the mouth—burning, needy. His tongue sought hers and they played with each other, swirling and teasing, until she grasped his hair, fiercely pulling him harder to her. Letting her hands roam through his hair, she then slid them down the length of his body to pull his T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside. She ran her hands over his hard biceps and onto his chest; she’d dreamed of this moment.

  Nico pulled on her bottom lip, biting just a little. In response, her nipples hardened under the sheer T-shirt. First kissing her neck, his tongue then teased at her ear as he reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. He unhooked her bra, letting it fall away, kissing her shoulder as his fingertips found her erect nipples and gently squeezed them, teasing her. Writhing under his touch, her fingers tugged at his hair as he nipped at each nipple with his mouth, pulling and licking them gently.

  “You like me sucking your tits?” he purred.

  She moaned in reply.

  He worked each nipple slowly, sucking and licking them. Arching her back, he sucked hard until she pleadingly cried, “Nico…”

  Her hands reached for his crotch, feeling for his erection. Unbuttoning the top button, she slowly pulled the zipper down, sliding her hand over the length of his cock.

  He quickly pulled off his je
ans as she unzipped her shorts, sliding them down her hips.

  Kneeling on the floor, he turned her to face him. “Lean back,” he ordered, grabbing her legs and pushing her thighs apart, hungry for the taste of her. As desperate as he was to be inside her—he wanted to hear her scream—he kissed his way up her thigh, then lifted her legs until her knees were almost to her chest, exposing her wet and glistening hot, pink pussy. Running his fingers along the rim, up and over her clitoris, he gently opened the mouth of her pussy for his finger to explore inside, feeling the tightness close around him. When he stroked her G-spot, she moaned loudly, “Nico, Please. Oh my God.”

  He finger-fucked her rapidly, pressing over the special swollen spot—feeling the wetness grow—then stopped abruptly, slipping the juices over her clit and massaging it. Letting out a small cry, she begged, “Don’t stop….please…”

  With the heat of her pussy in his mouth, he stiffened his tongue, and fucked her rapidly with it. Breathless, she writhed beneath him, pleading for release, the tight coil in her belly slowly unraveling. He gently nibbled and pulled her clit with his lips, then assiduously licked softly from her anus to the top of her clit. Panting, she pleaded, her clit aching and twitching with desire. She was spread wide open, and the pink folds of her swollen pussy glistened.

  “Nico…please,” she cried, arching up, unable to contain herself. “I need you now…” Consumed by her tameless tellurian needs, she lifted her pussy up to him, wanting him to fill her inside. His serpentine tongue flicked deep into her, lapping up her savory juices like a kitten.

  His cock throbbed, ready to explode, and he raised up and crept close to her. Holding himself just at the opening of her pussy, he rubbed around the entrance.

  Maya was mad with desire. “Stop teasing me, Nico. Take me, please.”

  Holding her hips, he thrust his cock into her, and she let out a cry of relief. Teasing her, he pulled all the way out before easing his way back in. Then, as he picked up the pace, his movements became more powerful. Moaning, she thrust her hips frantically, spurring him to fuck her harder and faster, until she began to squirt, the warm liquid ejaculating over his cock.