One of my adventures along the Deboarh Taj Anapol trail was a small-group sexuality workshop on the Oregon coast. This was in 2001, so far yet so close to the future. I volunteered to be the sound technician, recording her presentations and the discussion. I wonder if those recordings survive anywhere.
The scene was a cliff-side house high above the Pacific and the rocky coast of Oregon. The three-day format is perfect for a group of about 10 or 15. Friday night was warm-up introduction, short talk by Deb and a go-around of who is in the group. That’s where I noticed her, both her rugged, silken beauty and the way her eyes penetrated mine with a flush of heat. A couple of times she held my gaze a shade beyond what was was comfortable, until I recognized what I was being told.
Which verged on too good to be possible, though there we were, noticing one another and doing so all through the day. She paired off with a diversity of different men in group process and I kept glancing over to see their interplay. She had a way of connecting to everyone deeply, and they would look back at her with different shades of astonishment or desire.
During dinner she came up to me and said hello. She introduced herself — Opal. Talkative and open in this setting, I could barely focus on her words, so swept away with my attention was I by her face, her eyes of dark brown with a hint of rust. These, I could look directly into as she stood my height. I remembered something about an organic goat milk farm in California but it was vague. Maybe she worked there.
Looking at her sweet face and following her dancing voice, I somehow managed not to moan at the thought of smelling her pussy.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you later,” she said, almost with a wink.
At about 10 people began meandering back into the main lodge, where the Saturday night gathering would be. I sat on a couch scanning the room, eager to see her. When I did, she walked in holding the hand of a man much taller than her, with long, dark blonde hair. I had seen her with him today and I though they swam beautifully. She walked past me and glanced down, as if to say, “I’ve chosen him, not you.”
My heart sank for a moment, until she sat down with her partner toward the middle of the room, in plain view of where I was situated. They sat down in what is called yab-yum, face to face with their spread legs surrounding one another’s bodies. Her knees were stretched outside of his, and she was taking obvious pleasure in teasing them open and back. She stretched herself a bit more with her arms, as her hands clasped his waist.
I knew she was going to fuck him and she was going to do it right here. I slipped into a morass of wanting to penetrate her; I wanted to be chosen as the one she wanted, and I knew she considered doing it. Yet instinctively I surrendered to her choice. Right then the obvious gift of her offering her pleasure for my own lit up, and I received her warm light.
First she kissed him, reaching up from under his mouth, thirsting for him. As she did this, she reached down with one hand and guided his cock into her. She dropped her head back as he slipped into her, grasping her hips with his large hands and snugging her pelvis into his – and she moaned with receiving and release.
Around us others were beginning to couple up or go into small groups. The room was beginning to fill up. In the mix of this, she rocked her hips superbly and directly fucking him. He looked straight at and into her eyes as she returned his gaze; I began to moan gently to myself. I was wearing a kimono that I slipped out of its knot and allowed to slip off of my shoulders and unwrap me.
She then guided them to turn sideways, and she laid him on his back, with his head facing away from me. I thought she wanted to ride him, which she did, and I was sad that her face would be away from me. However, she turned around, faced me, and straddled him. Her knees were drawn up against her chest and she balanced on her feet, and fucked. First, fast, and then even faster. Then she slowed down and her eyes opened and she was studying me as she rocked her yummy hips on his pelvis, filling herself up with him. Looking her he would be treated to a view of her hips and ass as she did this.
I looked into her eyes curiously and with an ache of desire curled within me and then her eyes pushed me out of myself, I massaged the tip of my cock and moaned into her eyes, and into the room. I glanced around and everyone was involved in their own scene. Nobody was even looking at us; we were in our own here-now. I wondered whether her lover was in on this plan, though that did not matter now.
She rocked and fucked and plunged onto him. He would buck up and meet her, pushing his cock deep into her; this as her voice stretched into her face, now doused in a thin glistening sheen of her own sweat. I licked my hand and feeling long and hard and full, I masturbated as she fucked in front of me, from herself to me.
Our eyes opened up a space between us, a bubble set off from the space around us. Her lover was present there and now I felt that he was offering himself as well. I could feel his orgasm coalescing within him, gathering its energy and filling up within him, within me. Soon, I felt, I understood, he would be ready to let go. All our emotions were a plasma, gradually dissolving into one another yet still hot and distinct, I could sense her fully, her pelvis craving him to release, his erection reaching into her and his hot pool concentrated at his core.
Now my inhibitions lit up into craving and curiosity and jealous pleasure grabbed by the hair by the glance of her eyes which looked into me craving however deeply I would let go, to myself and to her. He roared and was ejaculating. Her eyes sprung rounder for a moment as, stunned sweetly, and then the semen left both of our bodies and entered the shared space. He spurted into the tight membrane of her vagina and I pulsed and gasped and moaned into my hand. She stared at my palm as I did, when she glanced down I did, seeing what she was seeing, a thick, deep pool in my palm.
She unmounted him; he sat up and she reclined against him, easing back and spreading apart her legs. I looked at her just fucked vulva. She was soaked. Then she squeezed and released a pulse of his semen, mingled with her love water, and this coated her labia thickly; she reached with the tips of her fingers between her own legs, gathered his semen from her own flesh and sucked it off her fingers…inviting me to do the same thing to and for myself. I did, plunging my tongue into the pool of my hand, sucking in my liquid eagerly and we gazed at one another was we both swallowed. Swimming in one another’s ecstasy, the space smelling like sweat and cum and cunt.
When the energy bubble melted a little I could see that everyone around us had, at some point, focused on us and watched as we explored in the sanctity of our space, oblivious to them. There was a gasp of release among the others. It almost seemed like they might clap though they did not. Eyes lighted onto mine and then I glanced back into Opal’s eyes, loving her and breathing in her love, her gift, her affirmation.
I could feel the coolness of my lips as my liquid evaporated, and her cheeks and lips were wet with the mixture of them that she had just drank.
She and her lover returned to yab-yum and I curled up on the couch as one of Taj’s assistants put a soft blanket over me, sat on the floor and held me.