During my work as a sexual therapist, I often travel to various locations around the world. My specialty is to cater to women that seem to have lost their sexual desires and lost interest in sexual details.
I have come
to notice that one can detect a number of different groups, among my female clients.
Some are businesswomen that have too little time to spend on a relationship,
and feel a lack of intimacy in their lives. Another groups is constituted by housewives,
that have too much spare time, too much money, and see far too little of their
spouse, to feel sexually content. They generally want something new, and
preferably exciting in their lives, having tried most things when it comes to
shopping and dining.
One of my counseling
sessions brought me to मुंबई, Mumbai. I found myself at the
airport. Mumbai airport is very busy, and I was relieved to find a driver with
a sign with my name on it waiting for me already there.
My driver
was a slim man. He did not talk, nor look me in the eyes. He took my luggage,
and placed it in the back of a spotlessly clean car, and showed me to the back
seat. It was comfortably equipped with cool air condition and even a little minibar.
He looked at me in the mirror, and only uttered two words: “three hours”. Then
he closed the screen between the front and the back seats.
I poured
myself a mango juice drink, and comfortable fell asleep after the long flight.
Most likely
three hours later, I woke up just as the car came to halt. The door was opened.
My luggage was already out, and my driver pointed me up a hill. My eyes not
used to the bright sunlight at first had trouble taking in the view. But after
a while, adjusted, saw a swirling path up to a beautiful mansion.
I walked up
the path. The surroundings were breathtaking, the nature adoring. The doors
opened just before me. I was greeted by a woman in a bright, red saree. She
invited me in.
We sat down
and had tea. She explained briefly to me that we were in her summer residence,
and that she had let all her staff on vacation, for us to be able to work in
calm. I understood by her way of speaking and her aristocratic manners that she
must be of a very high rank in society. I also understood that by the size of her
advance payment and the way one of her assistants had helped my book a flight
just a few days before our scheduled meeting.
She told
me, in India you cannot show skin, cannot kiss, cannot show sexual affection in
the streets. It is a thing for the house, for privacy. She also told me that
due to her social standing, it was very difficult for her to meet other men,
and to have the experiences she wanted. In her society, she continued, a woman
should not desire sexual pleasures, and should only live to be married. She,
however, had no intention only to have one sexual partner in life, and wanted
to learn. She look very strong, but vulnerable, where she sat. We decided that
therapy would begin after a short walk and a moment of relaxation.
Back in the
house, she showed me to another room. The walls were clad in thin, beautifully
decorated drapings and curtains. Let me take off your shoes, she said, fell to
the ground, and softly helped my feet out.
On the
floor must have been thirty or forty pillows, resting on an enormous Persian carpet.
Come, she said, let us lie down.
She said
she was happy to have found such a handsome instructor, she had always admired
the looks of the Nordic people. Here, all men are dark, she complained. I have
always been curious, if there are any more differences. I mean down there. In
India, women are supposed to be gentle, and not ask these things. But in this
setting, I hope you don’t mind, I will leave conventions aside.
-By all
means, no, miss. I am here to help you, to serve you and to guide you.
-Good, she
said. Then unbutton your pants! I want to see already now.
Admittedly,
I quite hesitantly started unbuttoning my pants. Her eyes were focused on my crotch.
-Now, pull
down your pants, she ordered.
I did as
she wished me to, exposing my soft penis .
She seemed
delighted. How light and pale, she said, almost giggling. And your hair, it is
so much lighter. And so much shorter, she added with a nod.
-I have
trimmed it, I mentioned.
Now, you
should see mine. She lifted up her saree. To my surprise, she wore no panites,
no undergarment. The area between her thighs was completely shaven smooth.
-How do you
find it? She asked.
-It’s very
beautiful, just like you are, I admitted.
-I rarely
get to use her, she said. All I can do is touch her myself. Is that wrong?
-It is only
natural.
-But I
would prefer the touch of a man. An experienced man. All men here, they are so
greedy. They just want to take what they need, but give nothing in return.
-Not all
men are like this, I am sure there are plenty of men here, that would do anything for you.
-Perhaps,
this is not all I want. Some time, I would also like to take what I need. Or
give like a man.
She had now
opened her garment, letting one of her breasts peek out slightly. She circled
the nipple gently, while thinking.
-I wonder what
it would be like, to be a man. To hold that thing, she pointed between my legs,
and put it into a woman. To feel a man around me, against my skin. To tell him
what to do.
-Do your
men tell you what to do? I asked.
-They do.
Or they just move me, using their strength. For once, I would like to be the
one with strength. With power. To be able to tell and be obeyed.
She let one
hand move down between her thighs, lightly sliding a pair of fingers up and
down.
-To take
what is rightfully mine.
-What is it
that you would like, madame?
-I want to
see you caress yourself, she said. As if she’d been thinking about it for
years.
-To make
yourself hard for me, while I watch you. Do it.
-It is
quite unorthodox, it can…
-Just go
on, she said. Do it.
Understanding
that this was one of her desires, I did what she asked of me. I pulled down my underpants
to my knees. Placed my hand around my balls, squeezed, and started a pumping
motion around my cock. It quickly rose, to her delight.
-You have a
beautiful penis, she said. And uncircumcised, which I adore.
She watched
me.
-How does
it feel? She asked.
-I enjoy
it, I answered truthfully.
-I want to
see your butt, too, she added.
She went
over to me, and turned me half over.
-Don’t
stop, she told me.
-What a
cute little bottom. Like a baby’s.
She let one
hand slide between my butt cheeks.
-So very
soft.
Her fingers
slid from my scrotum, across my anal up the crack.
-It is very
lovely, you’re so beautiful, she said.
Suddenly,
she licked one of her fingers, and pushed the tip inside my butt, my body
twitched from surprise.
-There now,
she whispered into my ear. Don’t be afraid.
She reached
around my waist, and let the fingers of her other hand grip my penis. She started
jerking it, gently.
-Now I’m
inside you, she continued whispering.
She pressed
her finger deeper inside me. A moan escaped me.
-So you
like that? Feeling me inside you?
She started
masturbating my cock harder. She pulled out her finger, and started pressing two
fingers against my butthole. She eased them in, her sharp nails just barely
touching me inside.
-Now I will
fuck you, she whispered harder, breathing more heavily into my ear.
She started
pushing her fingers more deeply inside me, the other hand working my cock. I
felt her
warm lips on my neck, her breath against my skin. She started biting
me, my neck. Her pelvis started pushing along with her fingers, as if she were
fucking me from behind.
Harder and
harder, she almost forced herself on me, working vigorously with her fingers,
lips, mouth and teeth. I was her single focal point of desire.
To her utter delight, I exploded in an orgasm by her hand, at her will.
Her hand wet by my seed, she continued stroking me, until I was completely soft again.
-Now, tell me everything you know about sex!
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