Ling's Metaphysical Passion Ch. 01

I was so excited to hear what sort of music Felix liked. I was really surprised by the music he started playing from his laptop, though. It was Tibetan singing bowl music, and I'd never heard them arranged in such a magnificent way. Felix began preparing ingredients and utensils immediately, while I pondered the beauty of these sounds.

I noticed Felix procure a cast-iron pan, butter, chicken breast, tomatoes, onions, garlic, shallots, cabbage, chillies, and black pepper. I wasn't really paying much attention to how Felix was preparing this food, other than the observation that he was also boiling brown rice. I could only think how glad I was that he knows how to cook a basic meal that tastes good, but I could probably still show him a thing or two about Chinese cuisine.

Once again considering the music, I asked "Are you spiritual, Felix?"

"I've been practicing Kundalini yoga for over five years now."

I was seriously impressed. He probably expected me to ask what he was talking about though. I immediately thought that maybe our energies brought us together in this way; it only made sense that I'd be so entirely aroused for him. I supposed my Kundalini might me slaking her thirst at his well of auric energy. I thought this is what the nature of a shakti was all about.

"We need to talk about this, since I've been practicing it for a few months." I reacted.

He replied, "I speak of the Hyperborean Kundalini, the Polar racial science of the vertebral column. This sacred art has been given by the Fire-Consciousness-Kundalini of Aryan India where the wisdom of the Hyperborean ancestors was best preserved in mythic times due to the impregnable sacred barrier of the Himalayas. The Light does not come from the East. It comes from the Pole, both Poles. Hyperborea is the origin of Kundalini, for it is the internal core energy of the Earth itself that we raise from our root chakra."

I was at a loss. I understood his words directly and intuitively, but I could barely parse their intellectual meaning, or the specifics of his vernacular. I was practically internally frozen shut in contemplation. Felix's words seemed to echo in my head.

"Can you please explain more? Are you telling me that Kundalini doesn't come from India?" I replied.

"It is originally Hyperborean; from the extreme North. Humanity did not evolve from African apes, gaining spiritual complexity in that process, but devolved from a perfect state of spiritual oneness in which the opposition between Self-and-other had already been overcome. The forms of our ancestors were more energetic than material. This progenitor race was originally Arctic in origin; the Vedic chronicles of India make mention of this polar origin, and this is the explanation for the power of Kundalini. The Polar Light originates from the North and South, Aurora Borealis and Australis. This Light energy bisects the Earth. If one is attuned to this Hyperborean Kundalini one may awake the ancestral racial spirit. This is the Hyperborean Kundalini." Felix's words encapsulated me again. I could hardly believe that one person could know so much about Kundalini.

"You know so much. Will you please teach me your technique?"

"After lunch." He instructed.

It wasn't long before Felix relocated us to the patio, sat down beside me on a wicker outdoor lounge, and we began eating a delicious meal of stir-fry with boiled rice together, with only a few words exchanged. Felix put the chicken in just at the right time for it to cook without going dry. I really liked his food; I thought he was a great cook.

Lunch didn't disrupt my settled thinking on what Felix has said earlier. His words were playing on my mind based on the 'racial' component of what he said. I saw Felix speak directly from his Kundalini, and in that quantum instant a sense of dreaded embarrassment rose sharply to physically immobilising heights, then dropped back down immediately; I felt totally ashamed at a cellular level about my racial perversions.

Upon finishing our meal, I hurriedly strayed back into asking Felix about Kundalini, at once forgetting my physical lust, and being totally absorbed into our spiritual attraction.

"Please show me your kriya." I asked, bearing more than a passing resemblance to an excited child.

"Very well. I will instruct you in Sodarshan kriya. This posture involves holding one's breath for 16 counts. On each count you will use your diaphragm to extend your abdomen three times. This posture releases the Kundalini from the base of your spine, expelling stored thoughtforms from your lower chakras. This kriya will allows you to work through stored trauma and increase your energetic consciousness. Kundalini may only flow in a directed sense through a pure body." Felix instructed me, and physically placed me in lotus position.

"To perform the kriya you will inhale forcefully through your left nostril. I will chant the words 'wahe guru'; this mantra dispels darkness and bring the Polar Light. Each chant is one count. Use your thumb to count your fingers for four counts each. Each line is one count, as is the tip of each finger. On the last count you will forcefully exhale through your right nostril. We will repeat this process for 31 minutes, or until you can no longer continue." Felix finished his instructions off by demonstrating, and then making sure I understood, but I was transfixed upon his every word.

I started performing the kriya, guided by Felix's voice. He sat opposite of me, and I could feel his intent bearing down upon my body. As I expelled air, I felt lighter. Each round of breathing removed physical weight from my body. Tingling in the base of my spine developed. It seemed to regularly surge briefly through my organs, before resting in my spine again. After what felt like about 10 minutes, I felt a quickening in pace. The kriya was no longer occurring at ordinary speed, but seemed to occur twice as fast. I was enchanted by Felix's voice. It took on pleasant musical qualities. Each mantra chimed a key on some hidden instrument like clockwork; this was the interlinkage of our vibrational energy. I felt that the vibrational conduction from Felix was causing this movement in my spine. The feeling of pressure translated up my spine, commensurate with the pace quickening further, and Felix's chants becoming totally melodious. This feeling of pressure was in my mouth. My body felt alive with subtle movement streaming directly from the base of my spine into my mouth.

Finally, Felix said "Well done. I'm pleasantly surprised how well you performed it."

We were done, and I opened my eyes to look at Felix, but the feeling was still in my mouth. I couldn't speak normal words. The words which came from my mouth were not my own, but were translated directly from my lower self. I felt like Felix wanted to hear my words; that he was somehow expecting them, or hoping for them.

"That was amazing. I feel this energy in my mouth. Felix, I hope you'll understand what I'm saying, because I feel this light energy replacing my baseness. This might sound stupid, but I really want to tell you that I sexually fetishize your race. I have always really, really liked white men; I fetishize your masculine attributes. Really, I also fetishize white women. I always look at their beautiful, long legs, and well-proportioned bodies. I find myself thinking that I'll never be able to reach their standards of facial beauty with my brown hair and brown eyes. I always feel so desperately ashamed to be Chinese. I mean, I'm so proud of my culture; my family; my people. The Chinese people are intelligent, inventive, and so much more refined than Westerners. We strive for material wellness so we may live in luxury. Sadly, our culture is soulless and materialistic. Westerners have so much pride, but I always feel insufficient. I feel like a worthless little Chinese."

My tirade was over. Somehow there was no embarrassment in these words, only cathartic bliss.

We were still sitting on the deck, facing one another. I didn't know what to expect. Things so far had already seemed to progress so strangely. Felix gently wrapped his arms around my head, and in a soft voice he told me: "I understand, I have seen this in Astral before. I truly know that Chinese women are incontrovertibly assailed by these thoughts, whether they admit it or not. This is how the nature of living has become in this age. I have materialised the thoughtform in Astral, and thus I have known of existence as a Chinese. Lingxiao, these thoughts are essentially normal. Oftentimes, men are the ones who have problems separating their sexual fantasies from the actuality of the everyday life. When I was younger, I struggled with this sort of thing. Sincerely, I also fetishize you. I think Chinese women are refined, critical, and elegantly beautiful. I think you're gorgeous." He didn't shame or rebuke me, but comforted me with healing words of kindness at my core.

He started planting kisses all over my neck, before moving on to licking me behind my ears. At the same time, he kneaded his fingers generously into my trapezius. All this channelled my cathartic bliss into pure warmth between my legs. I gripped my lover back, sinking my form into his; we knew each other in total intimacy at that moment. There was so much tenderness and vulnerability; it was bursting out from the seams of our life. We permeated material passion of united energies into the world.

Felix ran his hands down over my midsection. His firm grip on my abdomen awakened the burning primal urges inside me. I immediately reciprocated by sliding one of my hands underneath his shirt. I could feel the contours of his muscled physique in exquisite detail. Each one of my fingertips was racing for its own personal satisfaction, clawing at his impressive form. I felt shocked, overwhelmed, overcome. I had been lusting after Felix all day, in a completely addled state of mind. I felt calmly collected, resolute, and unburdened by the weight of my emotion. I now hungered for oneness with Felix, but it was a meaningful want.

Felix pulled my tank top above my breasts, exposing my small nubs of tender flesh, making them pop out from underneath with a tiny bit of force. The tank top was very tight fitting, and didn't show through, so I normally never worried about wearing a bra over my relatively pert B-cups.

He put his thumb and index finger in my mouth, reminding me of our encounter earlier that day. I gladly embraced his fingers in my mouth, playfully sucking on each one. With his fingers now coated in saliva, be began circling around one of my nipples, squeezing it, and gently massaging my breasts. Not content on leaving my mouth empty, he locked his lips instinctively against mine. It felt like an eternity in this embrace. I squeezed his body, he squeezed mine.

Then, he picked me up, hands around my ass. I instinctively draped my arms over his shoulders, and wrapped my legs around him. We gazed into each other's eyes as he longingly squeezed my ass. I could feel him spreading my ass apart with each grasp. This position let our crotches touch, but because Felix was so much taller than me, I had to squeeze my body down slightly to position his cock against my pussy, where it belonged, of course.

I could feel how hard he was for me. I was dripping wet, going into a deep, fanatical physical hungering for Felix to penetrate me. "I'm not ovulating." I whispered into his ear longingly, biting on it repeatedly.

Felix seemed like he wanted to take all day teasing me. Really, I expected him to rip my panties off the instant he heard those words. Instead, he just let me grind up and down his cock as he held me in the air. I'd already been waiting for his cock all day, really; it struck me with such joy that he'd see the wet discharge mounting in my panties; my wetness and sex for him. I wouldn't need to say anything, he would know how aroused I've been all day.

"I need you inside, baby. Let me be your good little Chinese." The words rolled off my tongue, healing my spirit with their cathartic resonance.

"You're my good little Chinese, darling. It's only natural for you to feel this way. Let me take care of your need." These words made me feel so validated and cared for.

Finally noticing my earnest plead, Felix walked me to his bed. His room was decorated with Impressionist art. I couldn't name the pieces, but I realised the style. His bed was firm, but comfy, it was good for sex. My mind was already buzzing with excitement; I couldn't focus on anything else but my desire for sex.

"Mmm... babe. You're so sexy putting me on top." The words were like drivel out of my mouth as Felix put himself down supine beneath me. All things one says in sex filled my mind. All the dirty racial epithets I wanted to express to Felix overcame me.

I could feel Felix's hard cock pressing against my welcoming heat. I stripped Felix's shirt off first in this position, before making him remove his pants to fully access his pliable body. With commensurate speed, Felix removed my tank top, jean shorts and blue cotton underwear. It was welcome to see that Felix enjoyed going without underwear. Just the thought made me appreciate my crucial distance to his cock all day. Wow, his cock is perfect. A heavenly specimen. He's so long and wide. Mmmm... I've never seen one like his before. So new and exciting.

Felix jostled his erect cock against my engorged, wet slit. Although I felt wet enough to take his cock now, he reached into his bedside table to retrieve a small glass of coconut oil. I wondered if my new boyfriend had been fucking other girls, but I wasn't prone to any obsession over it in this state of bliss. Applicating the vicious lubricant to the head of his penis seemed to be the next tactic in pursuit of endless teasing. Finally, Felix let my wetness lie against his hardness. Soooo much length and thickness for me to devour, I thought.

I slid up and down, grinding on his hard cock in long, painterly strokes, making sure to press down hard enough for his cock to part my labia majora completely and brush against my needy inner lips. I pulled his length with one of my hands, leaning the other halfway over his torso and his bed, pressing onto his body with a distinct softness as I rocked the bulk of my weight onto his lap. I gave his cock a few tugs, finally exploring his cock with my fingertips.

"I need you to fill my needy little Asian pussy with your big white cock." The words came out more cathartic than ever, again penetrating my mouth from the most benthic depths of my energetic form.

I sat up, raising my pussy to the tip of his cock, letting him feel my labia descending around the tip of his cock. He vibrantly undulated his hips back and forth, urging for my interface with my sexual implement. I was leaking wetness all over his cock, dripping my sexual desire over his length. I finally pulled him into my vagina, letting the very tip of his big cock know my sensations. I hungered to take him to his hilt; I thought it had to be at least seven inches of flesh.

"Mmmmmm; yes." I was moaning profusely already. "Baby you're so big; I'm full already", I teased. He pulled my hips down slowly, encouraging my tight space equally to gently expand to his considerable volume. The head of his cock was so well defined; I could feel the exact outline of his being inside me. The sliding pleasure and friction of his hips rocking back and forth gently with my pussy taking his increasing size was a necessary procedure. I eventually slid his entire length inside me. All of these inches are for my pleasure, I moaned internally.

He was heaven. I was heaven. Having Felix's big white cock was like a whole body orgasm sweeping over me already.

"Ride me, my good little Chinese." Commanded Felix.

Yes master. Your wish is my command. I didn't say anything, but my internal monologue was shameless.

I was nestling my arms down on his, embracing his framework; I was holding him in extreme closeness. Our lips tightly locked in a passionate wrestle, our sex now jostling back and forth. Like the raw elements pouring out of our forms and going back in, we were locked in these tidal motions. The head of Felix's big cock brought me tears off joy, as he stretched my little Chinese pussy around his invading implement. I bounced up and down, with each movement bringing intensifying pleasure.

"I want you to fetishize me. I want to be your object. Own me totally." I demanded.

Felix said "Chinese are so well-behaved." Then he put two fingers in my mouth, for me to suck on. Happily silencing my words, but my heavy moaning was practically unconscious.

"The white race is supreme in this incarnation of physical reality, it is only the truth. The soulless materiality of the Far East meshes gratingly with the perfect interconnection of metaphysical and physical perception in Europeans. You race is therefore mine for the taking; you're my little porcelain doll, destined to raise your social status and be admired by others for possessing a white man. These are the true artful forms we embody. This is the inverse of Aristotelean mimesis, because life imitates art. The central component of this truth is the originally Platonic Theory of forms. We are art-forms, thoughtforms existing in the gargantuan semantic web of absolute knowledge; where all truth is interlinked, and separately bound to spiritual teachings."

I was bouncing up and down on Felix's cock, listening to his every word. Each one seemed to spew heat and pleasure into my pussy. My sex was consumed by him. He owned my body. Every one of my little bounces on his implement caused me to squeal in joy. Every syllable of his wisdom rang truthfully across space and time.

"Good little Chinese like you will listen to what white men say." He reiterated. "You're my horny little Chinese cumslut and you're going to cum for me right now, slut. Understand?"

"Yes babe." I cried, his fingers in my mouth.

"Tell me you're going to cum your slutty little brains all over my cock right this instant, like my dirty fucktoy should."

"I'm going to cum right this very instant, baby. You own me; I'm your chinky little slutty girl." I rejoindered, spitting his phalanges out.

I could feel such a huge pressure in my pussy. I had only been riding Felix's cock for seven or eight minutes and he was already going to induce an orgasm. With his saliva-moistened fingers Felix began teasing my clit. Gentle little rubs turned into circling, which turned into sliding my clit up and down in the gap between his fingers. This stimulated me totally.

"Mmmmmmm-augh!" I moaned and spasmed, the muscles in my vagina contracting around Felix's girth.

"Good girl." He commanded.

Felix lifted me up, rotated me around, and placed me underneath him in a smooth act. As though I were a toy, Felix began penetration in the missionary position without removing his cock. He didn't leave anything to my imagination. He pinned me down, grabbing my arms above my head.

Felix rocked me; shook me; reoriented my whole perspective on gravity for what seemed to be an eternity. My Asian pussy was in direct unison with his white cock, urging out orgasm after orgasm from my eager sex. Each orgasm brought stronger contractions and more overwhelming moans. Felix owned my pussy. He owned my orgasms. He owned me. I was shaking through with a primal energy. I was being rendered the most immediate and blissful kind of pleasure. This was the meaning of our forms; the joining in sexual union of fanatical lovers.

"Baby your cock is so fucking big. You feel so good. I want your life force ejaculated into my awaiting womb, to transmute your spiritual energy. I'm going to climax." I cried.