Crystal P. of Virden, Illinois was chosen last week’s $25 winner with the correct answer to the question, Which statement BEST conveys what I said to Terry about the G-Spot? ” Answer: All women are endowed by their creator with one.
Tantra: The Art of Mind-Blowing Sex
A funny thing happened on our way to the Tantra workshop.
The sign on the door said, MAT ROOM.
“Let’s pop inside,” I said to Terry.
Her eyes flashed with excitement. “Really?”
“To scope it out.”
She fanned her grinning face. “Okay … but only to look.”
We went in, maneuvered around a black curtain, and peered through smoky, blue incense.
Nice. Soft music, soft lights, and what looked like soft mats. And of course, couples. Nude couples. Nude couples having sex. Nude couples watching other nude couples having sex.
A couple sat holding hands, legs intertwined, gazing into each other’s eyes. Terry nudged me and said, “You’d probably get leg cramps.”
A man lay on his back, grinning. Beside him sat a woman stroking his stiffie with a feather duster.
“Wow,” I whispered. “Everyone’s having a terrific time.”
A woman with short, black hair sidled up to us from out of the blue mist.
“Hi, I’m Anita,” she said. I forced myself not to peek at her bare breast pressed deliciously against my arm … as if anyone would consider that to be rude.
She cocked a thumb over her shoulder and whispered, “Clothes go back there. Feel free to join another couple, if invited.”
I shook my head. “We’re just checking things out … you know, for later. Are these people with their regular partners, or …”
“You’re cute,” she said, and gently stroked my beard, her breast warming my arm. “The answer’s both. Some couples don’t swing, but watching others turns them on.”
Terry and I left with me savoring the hot spot on my arm.
The Tantra Workshop
Nude couples were sitting with their legs intertwined and gazing into each other’s eyes.
“A popular activity,” Terry said.
A guru-type Indian with a short beard and long robe (or was it the other way around?) stopped talking to the flock and whispered to us, “Remove your clothes and take a mat.”
We did so and intertwined our bare legs into a pretzel. Not an easy feat.
“This is the Tantric pose,” the guru explained. “Embrace and breathe deeply together. Look your partner in the eye and begin each sentence with I really love …”
I grimaced. “You go first. I’m cramping up.”
“Feel the love you share, and the joy of celebrating your relationship.”
All I felt was the onset of rigor mortis.
He ended by suggesting we go to our hotel room (if we had one, which we didn’t) and make love. “Tantra is not a chase to orgasm,” he instructed. “It’s a feast of pleasure.”
That sounded fine, but I wanted to run home and play find the G-spot with Terry.
On the way out we ran into Anita, the mat-room lady who had stroked my beard. We stopped for a photo op.
IF YOU’RE ENJOYING these goofy blogs, share them with friends (or, heck, anybody). There’s a new one each week (until I run out of drugs, girlfriends, and wives).
Next Week: ANITA MADE ME DO IT!
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