Henna

The second of five stories written for Phoenix, the great love of my life. Drawn from our own experiences, and her complex, beautiful, wicked imagination.

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Villa in Bali, deep in the jungle. In the sun room: surrounded by

lustrous brown teak, the sunlight slanting through the leaves

overhead...

We are here. Naked as Eve, in what may as well be the garden of Eden, for our ceremony.

A ritual, not for the benefit of society, but ours alone.

Slowly, delicately, with infinite patience, I apply the henna to your skin. Your miraculous skin, the customary rose-tipped cream coloration now tinted with a hint of cinnamon from the tropical sun, and lightly sheened with sweet sweat...

Delicate patterns take shape under my hand.... vines spiral up your arms, bloom on the backs of your hands, trace your long, tapering fingers. They twine up your elegant throat and burst into flower on your face, trace the dramatic sweep of your high cheekbones.... and as the hours go by, caress the curves of your back and your incomparable ass.

You quiver with pleasure at the delicate, deliberate, careful probing of my brush, but dare not move for fear of smearing our creation.... I, too must concentrate solely on my sacred task, in spite of my obvious arousal.... The vines continue, augmenting the breathtaking length of your magnificent, flawless legs, delicately garlanding your ankles, and each of your toes.

Then up, in from your hipbones, and rising: a rampant dragon clawing at the sky in ecstasy, as her fiery breath scorches the air. Lastly I adorn your shoulder blades and back with her great bejeweled wings....

Now the work is complete, and it's your turn... but there is something you must do, first.

You begin to shave me.... carefully, with tremendous concentration, and for good reason, for the implement you are using is no common safety razor...but a great ceremonial kris, with an ornate handle decorated with beautiful patterns of shell, and a blade of obsidian, sharpened to a nearly translucent edge for this very purpose... You scrape the oil from my glistening body, and the hair comes away, easily, leaving smooth skin behind, a blank canvas awaiting your own art.

My chest, shoulders, arms, back, nipples.... then down to my buttocks, legs.... and back up to the junction of my legs and pubis. I could not be more vulnerable and exposed, but in spite of this I am almost painfully aroused. You oil my balls, my aching sex, grasping it with both hands, squeezing and twisting, and a single crystalline drop appears at the tip. You flick it away with your tongue, without touching me, and proceed to shave everything, the underside of the pulsing organ, the full to bursting orbs, the smooth frenum, the valley below. For the first time in my adult life I am truly as naked as the day I was born.

Then you take me outside in the sun, by the jungle pool and its

purling waterfall, and lave me with a sponge, washing me clean. And your real work begins... you take up the brush, and I watch in wonder as: a spiraling, tapering shaft is drawn from my bellybutton to my sternum... and a form: a unicorn, rising from my pubis.

Lastly, you crown my shoulders with his sweeping angel wings.

Then, taking up a small baton, you strike the first of the the chakra chimes at your side, and begin a chant. Ever so carefully, as not to disturb the patterns still drying on our skins, you crouch over my sitting form and lower yourself onto my sex, slowly, deliciously, sliding down, but stopping short of the base with exquisite control.

You strike the second chime, and your song climbs higher, ancient words I know not the meaning of, but for the images and feelings that start to swirl in my head. Another chime, and another. Your voice rises higher and higher.

And now my head itself rings like a beaten gong with the heat, and your song, and the sensation, and time lose all meaning. We seem to rise above our bodies, high above the earth, one with the sun, becoming only expanding awareness, encompassing all creation...

As your song descends, so does the sun, finally coming to rest in my groin... I come back to my body and open my eyes, meeting your level, kind, compassionate gaze. Your eyes glow, and are seemingly twice their normal size - hypnotic... An enormous, black and brilliant blue butterfly has landed on your shoulder, and rests, wings slowly beating. The patterns on its wings mirror your eyes.

You rise, smoothly disengaging from me with a long drawn-out sigh, and turn to the sparkling green pool. After a moment of contemplating your reflection, you plunge in... then surface, the water streaming from your lean, streamlined, hydrodynamic body as you turn to look at me over your shoulder... smiling coyly. Clearly, inviting me in.

In spite of my prolonged immobility I am energized. Hearing your laughter, I plunge in after you. Catching hold of you, I pull you down for an underwater kiss... that seems to go on forever... then we break the surface, gasping for air. You lead me under the waterfall, and we tenderly rinse the henna from each other's bodies.

You turn your face up to the cascading water, your back to me as my hands freely roam your body.... my cock rises between your legs as I reach under the water and find you already wet. I delicately massage your clitoris as I slip into you.... your lovely neck arches back as you turn to kiss me. The water drenches both of us, splashing and streaming off of our faces, spilling into our mouths and over our entwined bodies.... The sound of your breathing, the splashing of the water, your cries mingling with those of the birds and echoing off the rock faces around us, as you reach your climax.... it all sets me off, finally, and I drench the walls of your own grotto with spurt after spurt of my hot life.

The sacrifice made, you fall back into the water and float, cradled in my arms, as the sun goes down.

Aeons later, It is night. In the house, we realize we are hungry, and sit down to eat. After, we light candles and sandalwood, and,

sprawling across sumptuous cushions, feed each other dessert.

Mango. Fresh coconut. We separate the pieces with a blade, and our fingers, and pass them from mouth to mouth. Tasting one, then the other, the textures mingling. The juices spill and we follow them, down. Then, further. Our mouths tracing the elaborate patterns etched on each others bodies.

I kiss my way down your taut belly to the planes of your hipbones, the slope of them leading me inexorably to your mons.... I inhale, first, savoring the delicate fragrance, then exhale, stirring the fine down above it. You stretch, yearn, wriggle, the small, sweet lips opening slightly to me. I can resist no longer.

I descend, first exploring the contours around the mound with my nose, then taking it whole in my mouth.... parting your lips with mine, and tracing the slit with my tongue. I feel the sweet, slippery, buttery texture of it, and know you are ready for what comes next.

I pull you over my face... now you are above me, and I prop my head up with a pillow... this is going to take a while. I begin to explore you in earnest.... first, penetrating your delicious canal to the limit of the reach of my tongue, then above, to the rim of your tight, sweet, clean anus, lubricating it with my saliva and your own juices. I feel you engulfing me in your mouth... and inserting... something.... into my own anus....

a point, at first, widening to a ring, stretching me,

becoming almost unbearable... with an effort of will, I relax,

accepting, loving, trusting you.... at the height of the pain it

overcomes the tight, resisting flesh and pops in.... I sigh with

pleasure and relief, but none is in sight.... the stretching begins

anew, bigger this time, and when I can no longer bear it, is relieved again.

The cycle continues, each ring unpredictably bigger and smaller, until I am full. And you begin to slowly work my cock in and out of your beautiful throat, no mean feat - as it is nearing the limit of its uncommonly large size.

I produce a string of ebon beads, the dark wood catching glints from the candlelight, and work it one bead at a time into your taut anal opening. I begin sucking you fervently now, pulling your labia into my mouth and working them in and out, all the while delicately flicking my tongue back and forth across your clitoris...

I hear you crest and moan, the deep vibration of your larynx swelling my convulsing cock to yet greater size, drawing the eruption from deep with in me like molten lava... I pull the cord out of you as you come, the beads popping out one by one, the cries ripped out of you by your own orgasm, choked and muffled by my thick, surging column as I burst directly down your throat, into your belly...

Then I flip you over and regard you, flushed, panting, gasping,

beautiful, magnificent, still coming... I take your head in my hands and kiss you, passionately, tasting me on you, my cock still hard, feeling the object, too, hard within me. I plunge into you and feel your endless legs close on me, surging, urging, riding.... you reach around and work the toy in and out of me, and we are one, it is impossible to tell who is man, woman, who is penetrating who, we are one creature...

I am dimly aware of the gleam of curious animal eyes

in the darkness, drawn by the sound and smell of our lovemaking, mute witnesses to the dawn of the creation of consciousness itself. You pull it out of me and I too withdraw, coming again, this time covering the capering form I drew on your belly with my issue, consecrating it, blessing it, bringing it to life...