Art Reception

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It was quite late. Most of the guests had left some time ago, and those few who remained sat in small groups on the patio, drinking brandy or the last of the champagne and talking in low voices. Bijou and I had taken our glasses and walked down the steps to the lawn and around front beneath the broad stone railing to where the lights of the reception did not carry. Though where we stopped was shaded and quite dark, a slightly gibbous moon shone brightly over the fairways, and we could see a long way—nearly to the creek that bisected the course. We were talking about religion.

“I study numerous religious paths,” she said, looking out over the cropped grass, which shone with a silvery glow in the reflected lunar light, “mostly ancient ones connected with sacred sexuality. I also practice some of the techniques.” She turned her face towards mine. There was a hint of smile on her lovely features. “There is, for example, a very ancient, very secretive Taoist school of women’s mysteries called the White Tigresses, who practice a form of meditation and spirituality based on fellatio. They focus primarily on ingesting yang energy, both in its subtle form as energy raised in the body, and in its literal form as ejaculate.”

I felt a slight surge in my loins. I said, “I think you just waked my yang energy.”

She stepped closer, close enough to kiss, and delicately cupped her hand over my crotch. Yet more yang energy was released. “Not nearly enough yet,” she purred, pressing slightly against my now quite aroused member, “but I have some ideas.”

“I’ll bet you do,” I said. My arms circled her slender waist and pulled her to me. The kiss was long and passionate. I forgot about the clink of glasses and the low drone of conversation from the terrace above and thought only of the feel of her body against my body. She had wonderfully pliant lips.

It was she who broke the embrace. “Hold this,” she said matter-of-factly, handing me her half-empty champagne flute. gecelik escort She knelt in front of me.

“Uh…” I said, glancing up at the railing above us and back down at Bijou.

“Ssshh,” she said, opening my fly and releasing my now fully erect cock. She flicked her tongue lightly over the head, then ran it back and forth just under the tip, making me groan. “Don’t spill my champagne. I want to finish it,” another teasing, light flick, “after I try a bit of this.” She took the entire head and much of my shaft into her mouth.

It was damn difficult holding that wineglass still over the next few minutes.

Her tongue flickered in little circles around my cock, teasing, tiny little butterfly strokes. Then without warning she dipped her head and slid me deep, all the way into her throat. I could feel her lips pressing closed on the base of my shaft. I moaned, and nearly spilled the champagne. Her whole mouth seemed to vibrate, to draw me down into her. Then she went back to sucking gently on the head, her tongue circling round and round, maddening, insistent. I couldn’t believe how close I was already.

But she seemed to be able to tell that I was already on the edge. She held perfectly still, and her hand slid gently down to cup my scrotum, one finger pressing upward just behind it, and I took a deep breath. That took me down a notch or two. The heat spread around my hips, down my legs, up into my belly and chest. It was a struggle to stay standing.

She slid one hand slowly up my stomach to the center of my chest, drawing my attention there, and I felt odd tingles running all through my torso. Her mouth started to move again, now deep, rhythmic, insistent, taking me all the way in and back to flicker her tongue round the head. Maddening, my mind kept repeating. The word is maddening… Her other hand snaked round, and I felt her pressing gently on the very end of my tailbone, her hand still but istanbul eskort somehow electric at the base of my spine. I felt a distracting sensation at the top of my head — somehow in my whole body all at once, and yet nothing but a cock, throbbing into her mouth, over and over.

Someone’s going to hear me, someone’s going to notice us here, someone’s… I didn’t care. Her tongue slid back and forth on the underside of my shaft, and I could feel her whole mouth pulling, slick, now barely moving, now rocking hard onto me, taking the whole length. I felt myself coming to a peak again, but it spread through my body, coming from my chest where her hand pressed me, coming from the base of my spine.

But before I could go quite over the edge, her mouth shifted and pulled my cock downward, aiming it almost straight at the ground. Heat exploded through my hips, a strange peak that wasn’t a climax but was, a whole-body shudder of hot electricity. I struggled to stay standing. I heard myself groaning, through clenched teeth… “oh…g -GOD…” Dammit. Someone would hear that for sure.

Her mouth stilled, and aftershocks rocked my knees. She kept one hand firmly on my lower back, but with the other gently reached out and took the champagne flute out of my shaking hand. Good thing — it really was going to go any second. I was still shaking as she slowly, slowly drew her mouth off my cock, so gently that it didn’t overwhelm me, even in the hypersensitivity of those moments after orgasm. This wasn’t the fast descent I was used to after I came — it was a long slow ride back down, still coming, in a way, but conscious, noticing everything. Embarrassingly, I couldn’t seem to speak; my mind kept feeding me words to say but I couldn’t articulate them, occupied as I was with the sensations.

The Mind was already back, trying to coach me. Say something, say anything… I couldn’t. I had some astounding experiences, some mind-blowing climaxes in my history, otele gelen escort make no mistake, and even specifically some fellatio that truly sent me to other planets, but this was a bit different, and beyond comparison. Maybe better, but I couldn’t really label it that. Just completely different, and utterly mind-bending.

She stood up, slid up my body, really, till she was standing. She pressed herself along my length and snaked her arms around me, and I was embarrassed to notice that I was leaning on her, just a little. She didn’t seem to mind. She chuckled.

“I’m glad you decided not to come…” she said. She was right. I noticed I was still hard. She looked up at me — she’s got this sideways glance, crooked smile expression she uses on me, conspiratorial, sexy, a little submissive. It drives me wild. She knows it.

I still couldn’t say anything, and my mind was no help. The only thing it had to suggest is “That might just be the best blowjob I ever had,” and I wanted to be just a bit more clever than that. Dammit.

She chuckled again. Smiled mischievously. “Shall we return to the party?” she said, “for just a little while?” She downed the last of her champagne. “I’d like one more drink before we go.”

I was as articulate as the rock that my manhood still seemed to be made of. “But… I…” The words rose to my tongue as quickly as air bubbles in molasses. Finally, I just gestured at the erection that still tented my slacks.

She smiled in a way that can only, if incongruously, be described as wholesome. “Take off your jacket and hold it in front of yourself.” I did as she suggested and followed, still slightly woozy, to the bar where she got another glass of champagne.

The bartender looked inquiringly at my glass. “I think I’d better have a brandy. A small one. I need something to settle me a bit.” Bijou looked at me over the rim of her glass and winked.

We sat at a table by ourselves. “Where the hell did you learn that?” I asked her. She rolled her eyes and gave me a slightly disgusted look. “Oh,” I said. “Was that some of that White Tigress stuff you were talking about?”

“Got it in one, cowboy.”

“Remind me in the future,” I said, “to be more respectful of religious practices.”

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