To say the least, to say that Eric Herschman's story to Jane was very interesting was an understatement of epic proportions. His story had led to a full year of intense archival investigation by Jane, hundreds of interviews, and complicated negotiations with three universities and six governments. It had resulted in Jane's byline, picture, and story appearing under banner headlines in every major newspaper including the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal, La Monde, the Guardian, Seoul Shinmun, and Peiping People's Daily. In addition, Jane's picture had appeared on the cover of every major newsmagazine including Time, Newsweek, and Rolling Stone. The Huffington Post had covered her story on its home page with over twenty-six links to blogs and magazine coverage. The story Jane had uncovered had led to every major award imaginable, even to the rumor that she would be in line for a Nobel Prize. The Macarthur award she had won was no surprise at all.
The United Nation's Security Council had had two separate meetings (the second with 107 world leaders in attendance) to discuss Jane Bederson's revelations.
But now, at last, the furor over the story Jane had developed was quieting down. And now Jane was back at the entrance to Xanadu. She was ready for a much needed session of what she termed "a sex-tension cleansing."
Never had Jane worked so hard on a story. No one involved had wanted to let the information out. Hidden, covered up, destroyed, denied, kept completely under wraps, the information about the alien who had landed on Earth was carefully, artfully, covered up for more than 50 years. The coverup had even included a false rumor about an alien landing, a rumor that was just weak enough to be ignored by responsible sources. Governments had feared what the aliens' fellow extra-terrestrials might do had they been able to discover that the alien who had landed had been killed, shot to death by a deranged guard.
Jane had to remind herself that it was a mere year and a half since she had been introduced to Xanadu. She had been so busy that she had been back to Xanadu only once since her initial visit, her induction to its membership. That one return visit had happened about a year ago and had followed a phone call from Roger Fanderpeice. The Commander had asked for her appearance at Xanadu. When she arrived at the appointed time (she could not easily ignore a request from The Commander), she was surprised to meet not only The Commander, but Kay Maxwell, Martha Quinn, and Harriet Ott. They had all been there and what had ensued was the warmest, most exciting, interesting and revelatory seven hours of sexual pleasure she had experienced since her first session with Fanderpeice.
The quartet had thought it helpful to Jane to spend the sex filled hours with them as she labored at getting the story right. The experience, it turned out, had been the perfect antidote to the tension she was under while working on the expose. It was more than satisfactory for them too. But that was another story:
*******************
Right at this moment, Jane was at the door of the Xanadu East Side mansion at her own request.
She had called and asked Roger Fanderpeice for the visit.
She needed a renewal of the tension easing, libido unblocking, ability intensifying sexual fulfillment that only Xanadu was able to offer.
She rang the bell at Xanadu's door.
The door opened
Jane walked into the mansion. It was dark, and there was no one there to greet her. But Jane had been forewarned and had been provided with a map which led her through an inner door, down a corridor, up a short flight of stairs, and into the Black Room.
She had been told about the The Black Room in the same message that had contained the map. The room had been designed and developed by a physicist member of Xanadu in collaboration with the light artist Martha Quinn. All light had been removed from the room, in which it was now impossible to see anything although Jane had been told that miniature lens allowing them to see had been fitted for the people entering the room, but not for Jane. Other than that she would be enveloped by perfect darkness, she had no idea of what form her experience today would take.
She trusted Fanderpeice and Xanadu with out reservation, so, when she spoke with him, Jane had asked only that he arrange a session for her.
And here she was. She could see nothing, so she stood still. Then, she felt each of her arms gripped by what felt like two pair of hands and she was led to what felt like a soft, long but narrow padded table. She was lifted onto the table. The hands left her. She could hear slight noise in the room, the shuffling of feet, the rustle of material, a whisper of
sound, the scraping of a chair (?) on the ground.
A picture of "The Alien" flashed before her eyes for less than a second and then disappeared. She began to relive her quest for the story, remember the tips, the weeks and months spent in archives, at the Air Force base outside of Washington, the interviews with the former Presidents, the breakthrough when China's premier agreed to allow her presence during The Contact. Her heart rate had increased, her blood pressure risen when, suddenly, two hands, she couldn't tell if it was the same two hands, laid her down. She heard soft, insistent, quieting music. Jane felt hands moving over her body. Gradually, gently, the hands began to remove her clothing.
The sex was about to begin.
So fully had Jane been engaged in the story that she had rarely thought about sex, had hardly considered it. Yet, at some level, the basic understanding that Xanadu would offer her sexual relief when, finally, she needed it, had allowed her to continue her work on the story.
Her clothing had been removed. She was naked now, lying on some sort of a platform. It was comfortable. The room was pleasantly warm. Jane was ready to shed all the tension of the last year and a half. Even after the story had been published, Jane had been unable to rest. She had been overwhelmed by the follow ups to the story: the interviews, the tv appearances, the award dinners, the negotiations for a book.
Sex, that's what Jane was in need of now. The relief of a good fucking! That is what she was now waiting for.
She could feel now warm hands moving over her body. They were softly spreading an aromatic unguent over her body. It felt smooth and silky. The touches from those around her were delicate. Occasionally, Jane felt a hand linger underneath her breast and gently press there. Gradually, Jane felt the hands linger as she was turned over and the hands continued the application of the lotion to her naked skin with a slow
massaging motion. She could see nothing. She could hear an occasional murmur, a voice either directing the next movement or apologizing for an inadvertent jostle. But, mainly, Jane felt: She felt the gentle massage of quiet hands anointing her with the sweet lotion. Eventually her whole body, front and back, top to bottom, was covered by the warm, sweet lotion. And then the unguent was removed, slowly gently. She could feel the warmth from hands, some obviously female, some male, brushing against her body, rubbing against her legs, her stomach, her back, her neck, her buttocks to remove the lotion. Jane felt relaxed, her body was at ease and comfortably warm.
Still, she could see nothing. She wasn't sure how many people were attending her, but she was sure the people were both male and female. She occasionally felt a breast brush against her leg, a penis brush against her shoulder. She could hear an odd exhalation of breath from one of those in the room, but mostly she was able only to smell a faint, sweet odor and feel an overwhelming relaxation of tension until, suddenly, it all changed.
There was no warning. Jane felt an open hand cover her groin, grip hard , its palm pressing against the swollen lips of her cunt, its fingers squeezing her ass. Another pair of hands gripped her legs at the thighs, holding onto the muscles there. Jane's own breathing
rapidly grew deeper and louder. A third pair of hands began to fondle her breasts. Their touch was delicate. She felt her nipples harden. More hands began to touch Jane. They were everywhere at every part of her fully exposed body, her calves, her ankles, the soles of her feet, her neck, her forehead, her upper chest, her stomach, her back.
Jane let out an involuntary moan. The experience she was having was total..
Then she felt the palm of the hand that had remained pressing against her cunt increase the pressure there with a slow, semi-circular motion which became heavier and more insistently hard against her cunt as it continued.
She let out another moan, this time louder, and, now, the hand moved while its palm pressed against her clitoris. Two fingers snaked into her cunt. Another hand moved under her, pushing against her glutes and one oily finger entered her rectum. Jane began to shudder as pleasurable sensation excited every part of her body. Again, another loud moan escaped from her lips. The fingers in her cunt and the finger in her ass began to move deeper into her body. Another finger pressed against the lips of her mouth. It entered her mouth, and Jane began hungrily sucking it. She realized that ideas or words were unable to describe what she was feeling. Her thoughts were wholly of feeling, of sensation, of a sensual flooding and the quivering excitement thrilling every nerve in her body.
