Chapter 5

She felt as she had when Larry had come home from Addis Ababa-the doll bit, sort of. But this time he was actually inside of her, and it felt good, all right. Except she wanted to grind, to hop, to thrash around. But uh-uh, he wouldn't even let her move her twat muscles. "Later," he said.

She was on her left side, the "blessed side" for this position. Samputa-tiryak-bandha, it was called, Larry said. He'd sampled others but he was sure this was the one that Gert would like best, at least for the first go-round. He had promised to show her some of the others in due course, had said in fact that from what he learned on his one outing they could have several months of positions and a variety of techniques. The sounds accompanying kissing, the kinds of kissing, the charms and potions, the biting and scratching, all were important and instrumental in total fulfillment. He didn't know them all but his sales manager in Bombay was seeking out a more extensive book than the one Larry had picked up in a back street shop there. His was supposedly illustrated but the majority of the picture pages had been torn out. While they lay motionless, Larry said that according to the book she was a mrigi-meaning she had a six-finger yoni. "That's middle category, and fine-fine for the size of my prick, which is a lingam. Yoni means cunt, by the way."

"Naturally," she had responded with a sigh. "I've read the Kama Sutra and Ananga Ranga too, as well as the Perfumed Garden and-"

"Sure you have. We read them together, but they were a waste, right? Except for a couple of things in them, they were a waste. The whole point is that those books take for granted that you already know quite a bit. We didn't but now I do."

"Fine," she said. "Can I move around now?"

"No. You certainly have chanda-vega."

"Certainly. What's that?"

"It means you have an extremely high capacity for sexual enjoyment. It also means, an Indian' salesman told me, that perhaps I shouldn't be travelling around so much. Women with chanda-vega are known for their ever seeking carnal enjoyment. And, reportedly, they don't much care who they enjoy. Well, I told him that maybe that was true in India but back where I come from...."

This wasn't going to be the proper night for telling him about the penis sandwich.

Resides the book, Larry had brought home two other helpful hints. Helpful, at least, from his point of view.

The first was a woven mat, fairly interesting in its geometrical design, and fairly uncomfortable to be lying on too, as Gert could surely testify. But Larry had insisted that it was all part of the game. "And a rare specimen at that. A real sacred thing. This couple had had a fun-filled sixty years of sexual kama before they died of cholera or something. It's unusual for anybody to take out one from the country, one like this, I mean."

Reflecting on its hard and scratchy surface that was biting into her shoulder and thigh, Gert allowed as to how she could understand why.

The second item was also a sexual aid, and was at least softer. Which nicely took care of the good things that could be said about it. It was a jelly, disgusting-looking brownish cream. He wouldn't tell her what it was composed of but said only that he'd been assured that she would be his for life once he rubbed this onto and into her. And that he planned to do, first thing-onto and into all of her.

He had smeared it all over her body caressingly. Over her closed eyelids, in her ears, around her neck, in her arm pits. His hands worked the brown substance into her breasts, around her hips, in her navel and down her thighs. When he finished with her toes and legs, he slowly headed back toward her yoni, as he now referred to her cunt. Carefully he smoothed the cream onto her inner thighs, then turned her over onto her stomach while he ranehis hands into her crack and gently inserted fingers into her rear. In a clinical manner he daubed the sub stance around and around her rectum and when his finger was out he smeared the brownness around the outside of her hole and then palm-massaged it into her buttocks.

Turning her again onto her back, he concentrated on the yoni, making sure all the folds of her lips were covered with the brown goo. As he finished the outside his fingers scooped another supply of the potion from the small jar on the side of the bed, and worked the remainder of the substance deep within her.

It was crazy. Her muscles were starting to contract of their own volition. They were spasming and she couldn't stop them. In the long moments that he was rubbing the substance within her, she came. Once, twice-quiet, deep, very satisfying comes that surprised her. Larry looked pleased-and unsurprised.

"That was supposed to happen," he said, smiling at her. "Nice?"

"Nice," she murmured. "This stuff, Larry. What-?"

"Alum crystals. The active ingredient, anyway. They constrict the vaginal muscles, which also helps for what follows."

What followed began with his placing her on her left side, ignoring her request to shower. He wouldn't hear of it. Forming her body into a bow-a natural arc shape-he took the pillows from the bed and placed one of them under her head, the other under her hips and buttocks. The contrast of the softness with the scratchy mat made the pillows much appreciated.

Then he too was on his left side, his chest curled into her back. His lingam toyed briefly around her buttocks and yoni and then he entered her. Lingam in yoni, cock in cunt: Her vaginal muscles started constricting again but he admonished that she had to stop them.

"Concentrate on stopping them-for a while," he told her.

She wanted to move along the length of his cock within her, to pacify the contractions, but she concentrated as she'd been told and the spasms stopped. He now lay motionless. "Wait," he whispered, smoothing more of the brown potion into her shoulders. Then his hands and arms began caressing her body from forehead to knees, lingering on her breasts, then rummy, then hips, all the time rubbing more and more of the substance in and around, around and his hips, too, was resting on the pillow that he had placed under hers. Both their hip areas were only slightly elevated, the bent-bow shaping of their joined bodies broken only at the top where he had gently guided her head downward suggesting that her eyes take in the action in and about her yoni.

Action? Lingam and yoni were joined but motionless. And his hands were now extended flat, palms resting on her navel, fingers together and resting lightly on and around her clitoris. And also motionless.

She waited. For something to happen. Movement of some kind, any kind. Nothing. The suspense was getting-was already-unbearable. She was filling with desire. Her cunt ached. It was a deep well of pain filling with more pain. No, not pain exactly, but a core of nerve-ache, centered where the tip of his cock was. Deep within her.

They lay like that for what seemed hours. Nothing was happening. Except just about everything. More and more unbearable it became until Gert gasped. From the pit of her stomach a protest, half-formed but fully justified, was moving its way upward to her throat and open mouth, but "No," he whispered. "No words. They distract." And she closed her mouth, obediently pressing her lips together to stifle the stillborn complaint. Obedient. Docile. That's what she was with Larry. She thought briefly then of Gil and Rudolph, how with them she had been master, they the slaves. But with Larry it was different. Yes, yes, and of course because he was It was sudden. A small sudden cock-twitching movement that could move a mountain of-and did. And then she knew. Larry's move had been involuntary. She knew because her move, her answering, direct-response move, was the same. She felt her muscles reply with a tightening on his now repeatedly pulsating prick. The sensation was-unreal, yes. But real real, too. She was squeezing the life from him.

She started to make a slow circular motion with her lower body but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her hip. Again they were motionless but Gert could now feel that cock of his not moving, but throbbing in her. Slow, deep, heartbeat blood-beat cock-beat throbs. His heart-cock-blood-life essence was centered there, beating within her. The pulsing became harder, heavier, more insistent. And now her own insides were matching the beat.

He throbbed, she squeezed, then they pulsed together. The rhythm picked up in intensity and in speed. It was frantic, frenetic. Their outer-shell bodies inert, motionless, their inside realities driving-being driven-like a pneumatic drill. Uncontrollable, wild, crazy, but yes-right.

She grasped his hands. There was a need for something to hold on to, to anchor down the ecstatic turmoil broiling within her. But there was to be no anchor, not now, for he gently removed her hands, returning his to the motionless position on her stomach and clitoris. And now the drumming throbbing constricting spasming feeling was tearing her insides apart. She tried to stop the responsive squeezing of her muscles. She couldn't. Larry seemed so calm outside, his body motionless, his hands, trying to bring some of the serenity of those hands into focus-to force some sort of reality over her screaming, bursting brain.

She focused her attention downward, following the path of Larry's hands. His wrists, his fingers-calm, motionless, a still landscape centered on her inner being, her central core, this core of hers that was not a part of her, that was taking action of its own accord, the core that she had no mastery over. Her mind responded to the motionlessness of Larry's hands. She realized her own hands had been tearing at the pillow beneath her head. She relaxed them, composing her mind, adjusting to the inner calmness which now was seeping through her body. The turmoil inside her vagina was still there but now she could cope with it, she could get the main thrust of the non-thrusting pleasure without being distracted by a churning, whirling head which had nothing to do with what was going on. Ideas. You don't fuck with ideas. You fuck with cunt and cock, cock-in-cunt, lingam-m-yoni. And it was there, filling her. Filling her walls. Driving deep into her. Stretching, reaching, thrusting, throbbing, pulsing. All without any apparent movement. So much for what the eyes and mind know about screwing. So much a cunt knows, when The rhythmical pulsing, smothering her, washed over her like a waterfall, cascaded over her in hundreds of droplets of pleasure. Lying like that for an eternity and. ... His tool looming even larger, expanding deeper than her available depths, and....

Realizing that she was coming coming and that he was now doing so in force. Feeling the hot semen shoot into her and, like the wondrous waterfall-feeling of eons before, feeling it washing over her, womb-warming her, world-wrenching-wreaking-wringing And she came. She came with an exploding dynamite spasming of her muscles that forced him out of her. With his cock just resting at the opening she lay there. Spent. Satisfied. At peace. Yet her internal contractions continued, and it was not until he entered her again that she realized she'd not yet crested the final peak. And then she did, tasting and savoring and relishing this utterly quiet bursting. Not of her mind but bf her body. Body alone, new and marvelous sensation. She had never come before with just her body. Her brain had always gotten entangled with that wildness that her body felt.

This was good. So good, and then so peaceful a coming apart. She sighed and they slept like that. At peace. Joined. Kama.

"Large bee?" Gert asked. "What's that?"

"It's called purushayita-bhramara-bandha." Larry said. "You like that better?"

"The King's English suits me fine. But I've got a little something I'd like to try on you."

It was the following morning. Larry and Gert had awakened slowly and lazily and moved to the bed. There they had shared the orange juice and coffee which Gert had trotted down to prepare and trotted back upstairs with, like the satisfied wife she in fact was. But it was down in the kitchen that her eves took in the sticks of butter, which some insensitive demon had placed right next to the orange juice in the refrigerator. He'd brought the butter up on the tray which now occupied the night table on her side of the bed.

"Really, Larry, while you were gone I got this glorious idea. See, what we do is-"

"What we do, Gert, is teach you how to excite me. When I'm down, I mean, when old Peter is tired."

"Right," she said. "Now, what I have in mind-"

"The large bee."

She pouted. "That isn't exactly-"

"But it is. Get me hard-quick."

She looked at him warily. "How?"

"Any way you want, but quick."

She eyed the butter. No, that was little involved-and had nothing to do with a bee, large or small. Excite him, he said. Well, she knew how to do that much. She swung toward the middle of the bed. Lifting his legs and buttocks into the air-with his help-she put her legs under his, buttocks to buttocks, her mons pressing against his testicles. She leaned over him grasping his root with both hands, putting her lips to the tip of him. She knew he loved to watch her mouthing him. Eating away at him. She kept her head up so that he could see her lips sucking, sucking at the tip of his cock.

Her hands worked at the base and caressed his scrotum. She could feel him beginning to grow. It was a good feeling, taking the limp, soft mass into her mouth and hands and feeling it expand at her bidding, her willful touch, her masterful control.

Soon he was filling her and she was reluctant not to take him to the end. It was a pleasure watching his face when she made him come like this. She loved feeling the moment he was about ready to spurt and to look up and see his eyes closed, facial muscles contorted with the anticipation of the delectable inevitable, with her knowing that she alone was responsible for this final act, the exact and practiced placing of the lips the way he liked it, of circling the cock tip with a hard insistent tongue, of urgent pressuring at his base. These were the moments of control, her knowing that if she wanted to do that to him for hours there was nothing he could do to stop her. He wouldn't stop her for anything. The pleasureful pain, painful pleasure was too great. He would just lie there and let her suck and pull and eat and gorge herself to her heart's content.

But as much as she loved it, really loved it all, there was something she loved more. And that's what she wanted now. With a final long draw on the-what did he call it?-yes, linsam, she pushed her hands under his buttocks signaling him to lift. She knew he wouldn't want to, that if he was lazy this morning he would just want her to finish what she had started. And she also knew if it came right down to it, she would oblige him.

Removing her mouth from him. she extricated her legs from under his body and reached up to his mouth, stretching full length upon him. And now he was pulling her up to him. Her breasts reached his mouth and he took one of them deep into him, nipping and biting at it, fondling the other. Feeling his hard cock graze-her buttocks, she reached behind her to touch him but he stopped her. He explained what he wanted her to do as he stretched out full length on the bed. She sat at a squat above his lingam, her bottom touching but not resting on his thighs. As she inserted him in her she closed her legs firmly around him. Her muscles constricted to hold him that way. Then following his instructions, she moved-from the waist in a circular motion, churning over his cock, feeling it go deeper and deeper into her, turning and swaying over his hard, hot shaft, looking at him, sitting upright, her weight on his full rod. It was nothing new, this business of being on top, but this position with her movement so carefully guided by him was a thing quite, quite new.

She found she could sit down on his fullness, getting the length of the root into her. Then, as she turned and swayed in the circular motion, she could force the prick to circle her clitoris. On the one hand she could sit forward and stimulate her outer lips with his cock. On the other, she could churn backwards and feel his balls filling the crack between her buttocks, a nice feeling, a filling-full feeling.

He was writhing under her, but not uncontrollably. If in fact he started to move to jam deeper into her, she could put her weight onto him to stop him. She could control the thrusts and the motions, his and hers. She could have him fill her or have his cock pressing hard against her mound. She was in control, just like when eating him, but with the glorious difference of him-in-her.

Suddenly he reached up to grab her breasts and she knew he needed something to anchor him. She'd had that feeling so often. She knew how crazy you could go without that stabilizer. With a laugh she arched her back, pulling her breasts away from his reach and sat down hard on his thighs. Let him go crazy-for a little while anyway.

Churning and turning and fucking his prick she now no longer had any motive other than satisfying herself. He was forgotten as she leaned slightly forward to get the rubbing on the outside and the inside of Tier body. She jounced up and down and back and forth and steadied herself on his thighs as dizziness attacked her head.

The clitoral come started first and she ground herself around and around his cock, letting it hit her where the sensation was strongest. Then to her rear at the bottom of his cock the friction built up in another area that needed her attention. She half stood, still in the squat position and came down hard and harder bn him. She concentrated on letting him hit the front and back with each thrust into her. He was moving now, too, and she let him, letting his hips fly into the air to grab her cunt as she took off only to come down and impale herself on this spiking pleasure tool.

He had her breasts in his hands now and tried to pull her down on him. His mouth opened in a full circle and one breast was sucked into it. As she tried to pull away and hoist her hips into the air he sat half upright and she came down on him-on his hard cock-and his outstretched fingers found a target. One or two or three or twenty of them entered her rear, but only for an instant.

She went upward again, grabbing his hand as she did. She straightened her back and came down, spear-splitting her ass with his cock, a direct hit that tore her brains to shreds. With the same circular motion of her waist, her back arched, her fingers wound on his fingers which now eagle-clawed her cunt, she let out a piercing, staccato scream of operatic quality.

A stream of sperm spewing into her, she added a second note and a third and a fourth.

The Large Bee finished with as good an aria as Madame Butterfly.