Teach Me Tantra!

Teach Me Tantra!

By Dirk Carlyle

Chapter 1 -- Dirk Meets Amanda

I've tried every coffee known to man--except that one that comes out of a monkey's butt--but my favourite has always been a simple black Columbian. Every morning I end up at my local coffee shop for a fresh cup. It's a small shop, with just a few little tables. But it isn't usually very busy, the wifi is free, and I like how the cute little Barista dots the "i" in my name with a little heart.

The last few mornings I noticed a young woman sitting by herself behind a laptop. She was Asian, mid-20's, with light skin. Her shiny black hair was tied back into a severe bun. She wore large glasses and was conservatively dressed with a frilly white blouse that was buttoned up to her neck and a long dark skirt that went all the way down to a pair of chunky Doc Martens.

On Monday I picked up my coffee, smiled at the Barista, turned around and saw her staring in my direction. I was going to smile at her as well, but she immediately looked down at the laptop in front of her. When I walked by to find my table she was busily shuffling papers around.

I saw her again on Tuesday and again on Wednesday. Each time I looked over at her table she was looking in my direction, before quickly turning back to her work. Part of me was wondering if she thought I was cute, but maybe she was too shy to return my gaze.

I always thought that was attractive; the bookish schoolteacher or maybe a librarian. Shy, reserved and demure in public. But at night, out of public view, she takes off the glasses, lets down her hair and is an uninhibited tiger in the bedroom, demanding to be pleasured. Of course the rest of me thought I was just a deluded old man.

Try as I might, I was unable to get her attention and figured she wasn't interested in an older man. On Thursday I just went to my usual table to check my email and didn't even bother to look around for her.

I was replying to an email from my publisher when I thought I heard a voice.

I looked up from my laptop and saw her standing in front of my table. She was looking down at her feet and her hands were clasped together in front of her. "I beg your pardon?" I asked.

She reached up to adjust her glasses and cleared her throat. "I said, 'Are you Dirk Carlyle?'", she repeated in the same soft voice.

"Why yes, I am", I replied. I was a little taken aback. I'm not very well known and I am not used to being recognised in public. "How did you know it was me?"

"Actually, your publicist told me you come here every morning", she smiled slightly, still looking at the floor. "I told him I wouldn't leave his office until he told me where you lived. He refused, but when I told him I want you to teach me about sex he gave up your coffee shop. I can be pretty tenacious."

Wow, I thought, almost spilling my coffee. I wasn't sure if I should fire my publicist, or give him a raise. This woman looked beautiful under the hair and glasses. And under all those clothes she had slender legs and arms, tiny breasts and a tiny little ass. The type of body that really raises my passion.

Even so, I wasn't sure about her and was a little guarded.

"Yes, well, I don't know about that", I said, gathering my thoughts. "Why don't you sit down, tell me your name, and tell me why you want me to teach you about sex, sweetheart?" I waived my hand towards the seat at the other side of my table.

She eagerly sat down. "Well, you see, Sir..."

"Hold on", I said, raising a hand and cutting her off. "Please, call me Dirk", I smiled.

"I'm sorry...Dirk", she responded, with the glimmer of a little smile. Then her face started to darken as she began to tell her story.

"My name is Amanda Lu. I grew up in a very religious family. I don't have any brothers or sisters. My dad is a popular minister in the Asian community. He put me in an all-girls religious school and told me that sex was evil. He said that Jesus was always watching me, and if I touched a boy or even myself I would burn in hell."

She continued with some sporadic eye contact. Each time she looked at me I got a flash of the beautiful dark brown eyes behind her glasses. "I tried to be a good girl, I really did, but sometimes I would see a boy and start feeling wet between my legs. My pussy would get hot and it would feel so good to rub it against a chair or a pillow."

She looked back down at the table, her voice slower and even quieter. "One day when I was 20 I was at the church, waiting for my dad and I saw the janitor at the other end of the hallway. He was changing the lights in the ceiling. It was a hot day and nobody else was around. He was on a step ladder with his back to me. I could see the sweat seeping through the back of his shirt, between his muscular shoulder blades. His bare arms were over his head, he had a tattoo on his bicep that was gleaming with sweat."

"An image flashed into my head of those big strong arms wrapping around me and I started to feel warm and wet between my legs. My pussy was just begging to be touched. There was nobody else around, so I thought, 'Fuck it' and started to slowly rub it through my skirt."

She looked up at me, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I was just going to touch it a little", she said, sheepishly before looking back down.

"It felt so good that I closed my eyes and began to imagine that the janitor was leaning forward to kiss me", she continued.

"I was getting lost in the moment but then something suddenly made me open my eyes. When I did, the janitor was standing right there, grinning ear to ear, staring right at me. I gasped and immediately pulled my hand away from my dripping wet pussy."

"I could feel my face flash bright red and hot. I was horrified. I couldn't move or speak."

"But he just kept standing there, with that grin on his face. Close enough that I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead and smell the manly musk oozing from his perspiring body."

"He grabbed my left wrist and pushed my hand up against his pants. I could feel his hardening penis through the denim. It felt so big. My curiosity began to overcome my embarrassment and I started wondering how big it really was and what it would feel like inside of me."

"You looked so sexy standing there. Your eyes closed, your head tilted back, your hand between your legs", he said calmly. "Why don't you come back to my office so I can help you out?"

"Still holding my wrist he began leading me back to his office. I lurched forward, almost tripping as I tried to keep up with his long stride. Before I could answer him or even think about what was happening I was inside the dingy janitor's room and he was locking the door."

"He rummaged through a greasy tool chest, under the pale, flickering florescent light, and pulled out a box of condoms".

"'Aha!' he exclaimed, excitedly. 'We're in luck. Why don't you bend over and grab the desk'."

"I sheepishly did as he said. It was a small metal desk against the wall and I bent over and grabbed both corners with my hands. I looked up and saw that there were some tools hanging on the wall along with an old calendar picturing a naked woman wearing a hardhat and holding a drill."

"I could hear his zipper come down and his belt-buckle jingling as he dropped his pants to his knees and fussed with the condom. He lifted up my skirt and rested it on my back, exposing my wet cotton panties. He pulled those down to my knees, giving him an unobstructed view of my bare pussy. Then he spat on his hand and spread saliva over my pussy lips with his calloused fingers, making it even wetter."

"It hurt as he eased his cock into my pussy, and I started to cry out."

"'Be quiet', he said roughly. 'Someone might hear you.'"

"He grabbed my hips and started to pump faster and faster. At first it really hurt and I bit my lip, trying not to scream. But after a moment the pain started being replaced with a nice feeling of being filled. The rhythm of his thrusts and the gentle slap of his balls against my skin started to feel so nice."

"The desk began to bang against the wall as the intensity increased, knocking off a screwdriver. I was just beginning to really enjoy myself when he let out a grunt and pulled out of me."

"He pulled up his pants and looked at me with disgust, throwing a rag at me. 'Ew', he said. 'You didn't tell me you were having your period. Clean yourself up, you need to leave.'"

"I looked down at my legs. A trickle of blood was running down my thighs, threatening to stain the white panties that were still hanging around my knees. I quickly wiped myself off, pulled myself together and left his room as fast as I could. I wasn't having my period, I was losing my virginity. And I didn't want him to see me cry."

Her voice was getting shaky and a tear began flowing down her cheek.

"The next night he was drinking with his friends at the bar and told them all about it", she said, her voice halting. "My father knows everyone in town and eventually the story made it back to him."

She sniffed as her nose started running. "My father was furious. He yelled so much. He told me that his daughter was a slut, that I was going to burn in hell and that I needed to move out of his house because I was unclean."

My heart went out to this woman. I could feel her pain.

"Anyways", she continued after taking a deep, shaky breath, "I did move out, and I am free of my father for the first time in my life. I can rub myself anytime I want to. But I am so confused. I read your stories and so many more, and they all talk about how great sex is, but it didn't seem that great to me. To be honest, it feels better when I just hump my pillow."

"I must be missing something. There must be something more. Will you teach me about sex, Mister...um Dirk?"

Wow, I thought. This poor, sweet, innocent woman. This poor, sweet, innocent, hot, young woman.

I leaned towards her and put a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head so that she was making eye contact. Then I put my hands on hers, which were clasped tightly together on top of the table.

"Your story moved me, Amanda", I said. "Trust me. Sex can be much more fulfilling than that thing that happened with the janitor. He was only thinking about himself. He wasn't being considerate at all to you or your needs or your feelings. And your father sounds like a self-righteous prick."

"I will teach you about sex, sweetheart", I offered. "But what kind would you like to learn?"

At once her eyes brightened and I saw a real smile for the first time. Her smile turned to confusion as she wiped the tear from her eye and sniffed again.

"What do you mean by 'What kind of sex?'" she asked.

"Well there is regular sex and Tantric-style sex", I replied, matter-of-factly.

"What is the difference?" she asked, still puzzled.

"Regular sex is a bit like what happened with the janitor. But it can be much more fulfilling if the two of you are doing it right and care about each other's needs. I have heard it called 'goal-oriented sex'. The 'goal' is for both partners to have an orgasm, although it doesn't always work out that way."

"Goal-oriented sex has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning is called foreplay. This is where both partners try to turn each other on. The middle part is the hot and heavy part. There is lots of pumping and sucking and sweating. The end is usually when the man ejaculates."

"For most people, that is sex. People like to spice it up with sexy clothing, different positions, toys, role-play. But it is not always fulfilling. Especially for women."

"And why is it like that?" Amanda asked.

"Some men don't care or even know about foreplay", I explained. "But it is an important step. A woman needs to be ready to accept a man's penis in her vagina, and it can be painful and unpleasant for her if things are rushed."

"Sex should be a loving, intimate act, but in reality the partners are not always present to each other. They are often off in their own worlds. The man worries that he will get too excited and finish too soon, so he might try to distract himself by thinking about dead puppies or something in order to last longer. Or maybe he gets bored and starts thinking about that good-looking actress. The woman frequently worries that he will cum too soon as well, so she tries to hurry herself up so she can finish before him. Maybe she thinks about that good-looking actor she likes for inspiration. So they are together, but they are not connected."

"And when the man ejaculates, he's usually done and it is over. Especially if he is older. Even if he tries to continue his passion is gone, his sexual energy has evaporated. You cannot fake these things, sweetheart."

"The Tantric style is different. I call it 'present moment sex'. It is more intimate. You are more connected to your body, to your partner, to the universe. There is no need to chasing that orgasm, that ending. Because there is no ending. The orgasm will come when it comes so you can focus solely on yourself, your partner and the delicious feelings you are having in the present moment."

"For true Tantric practitioners--those who follow the Tantra--it is a sacred meditation. They believe it is a pathway to spiritual powers and even enlightenment. In truth, time stands still while it is happening because the present moment is never ending. Before you know it, hours have passed by."

"Yeah, right", Amanda scoffed. "How can two people make love for hours? Wouldn't the man get exhausted like you said?"

"By approaching sex with the right attitude", I replied calmly. "By connecting to your body and connecting to your partner. By learning how to take control over your own orgasm."

"You are correct in a way", I continued. "When a man ejaculates he does lose his energy, his vitality. His immunity drops and his body produces a chemical that makes him sleepy. The older he gets the less he can ejaculate because it depletes him so much. But that is ejaculation, not orgasm. Not a lot of people know this, but for a man, orgasm and ejaculation are two completely separate things. They only seem the same because they usually occur at about the same time. But he can learn to separate the two. He can learn to have an orgasm without ejaculating. These orgasms feel almost as good as if he ejaculated, but they don't deplete him. In fact they build his energy, strengthen his immunity. And as long as he doesn't ejaculate, he can have orgasms all night long and have tons of energy left to start again in the morning."

"Likewise, a woman can take control over her own orgasms. She can let them be light and energetic like the man that doesn't ejaculate, or she can let them build and deepen so she feels completely fulfilled, like the man that does ejaculate."

"Of course I can't teach you that type of sex over a coffee. It would take some time and we would need to be, uh, intimate with each other."

"Maybe I could give you my number and you could think it over."

I let go of her hands and started to reach for a pen to write down my number. I was pretty sure she would decline such an offer, but she immediately jumped forward and grabbed my hands in mid-air.

"Teach me Tantra!" she gleefully exclaimed.