The Anointing

She looked down at her vulva and watched my finger massage her, then she followed my arm with her eyes all the way up to my face. Her face was already flushed, her lips a little puffy; she couldn't catch her breath enough to answer, so she just shook her head.

"It is because you and I have entered such a trusting space, such a vulnerable space, such an emotionally and spiritually intimate space. This is the space where our bodies and spirits lose their boundaries, where we start to become one. I have called forth the spirit of life both through our connection and through my hands."

I could see that she was becoming highly aroused. So I moved to the next part of the lesson, crawling toward the middle of the table until I was between her legs. "And now, I shall call forth the spirit of life with my mouth." I pressed my face into her vaginal lips, the softest, sweetest place in the world. I inhaled deeply and then pressed my tongue inside her vagina.

"Ohhhh," she groaned.

I explored that sacred space with my tongue for a few moments, relishing her taste, her smoothness, her depth. Then I began to lick her clitoris with my entire tongue, up and down in luxurious strokes, drawing mmmms of pleasure from her. After a few minutes of that, I started licking her with the tip of my tongue, moving imperceptibly faster and faster. And she responded. Soon, I reached my hands up and brushed her nipples, which became immediately hard, so I pinched them gently in time with my licking. A few moments later I was clasping her entire breasts in my hands, massaging them. She reached down and grabbed my hair. I could feel her reaching her climax, so I brought one hand down, and with a knuckle, gently probed her anus. That final touch sent her over the edge. As she mewed with overwhelming pleasure, my lips and tongue felt her vagina throb and throb. It's one of my favorite feelings.

I crawled to her side and pulled her to me, stroking her body as she recovered--back, buttocks, legs. When she finally opened her eyes and looked at me, I smiled and said, "Drawing forth the spirit of life from the cradle of life."

A thoughtful look came over her face. She looked down the length of my body and stopped on my penis. And then she said, "And now... for the staff of life."

She got up from the table and stood next to it. "Lay on your back, if you would," she said, mimicking my tone. I was surprised. This had never happened before. I wondered if I should guide things back on track. But something about the look in her eyes told me I should see how things played out. I moved to the middle of the table and got comfortable, adjusting a pillow under my head.

She climbed onto the table and straddled me just over my thighs. She dipped her fingers in the bowl of oil next to the table. And then she rubbed oil on my penis and slowly started to massage it with both hands. There was no hurry in her motions as she watched my penis engorge. When it was fully erect, she took hold of it with both hands and looked up at me. And this time, she took the initiative and opened her soul to me. She showed me her excitement at this new experience, but also her apprehension at this strange organ she was holding. Then reached out to see what was in me.

It astonished me what happened next. Seeing this beautiful, naked, glistening, aroused nymph sitting over me, holding my most sensitive part, and reaching out with her soul, ignited an explosion of memories. The first time I was aware of my penis. The first time I got an erection. Those terrible moments as a teenager when I could not stand up lest the people around me detect the erection that would not go away. The ecstasy that had coursed through me at my first orgasm. The terrible confusion that came with this suddenly active organ. How much I felt I had to hide it all. The terrible loneliness. The darkness.

But then something warm engulfed my penis. I became aware of my surroundings and saw that my cock had entirely deflated, but that she had bent down and taken me into her mouth. She was sucking on me gently and caressing me. I began to weep at the tenderness of this gesture, at the comfort that radiated from her mouth into my body, healing a piece of my soul. My erection began to grow again. She could no longer contain my entire cock in her mouth, but still went as deep as she could. Soon I had one of the hardest erections I'd had in years and my body seemed filled with light.

I felt her mouth move away and I looked up. She had oil on her fingertips, which she dabbed on the head of my penis and then rubbed down the length of my rigid shaft. "I anoint your penis," she said. "That it may bring many more girls to this beautiful knowledge. That it may be a conduit to both earthly and heavenly pleasures."

Then she smiled as she said, "And that it may fit... in me."

With that, she got up on her knees, moved over my hardon, and, her eyes fastened on mine, lowered herself so that I penetrated her.

As my cock slid into her vagina, it encountered no resistance from her hymen. (Her mother had stretched it for her, as a good mother does.) The feeling of entering her was exquisite, like moving through warm velvet, but even more so was the journey she and I went on as we gazed into each other's souls.

Closing one's eyes during moments of ecstasy is natural. It shuts off a sense that normally takes much of the brain's bandwidth so that it can focus on the pleasure. Also, it's such an intimate act to bring someone else's body part into your own body. It can feel awkward, bestial, uncomfortable. Our cultural training also clamors at us, reminding us that the phrase, "Fuck you," is a derogatory one, and that you are in the midst of that act. Should you be humiliated? Will you partner think less of you now? Will your body or performance be compared to someone else? Are you somehow ridiculous? Closing your eyes can remove you from that fray.

But there is an entirely different level of intercourse when both our bodies and souls are uniting. It takes practice, believe me. If you think it's hard looking into someone's eyes during ordinary life, try looking in their eyes during sexual intercourse. At every instant, there seems to be a reason to look away, to close your eyes, to think of something else even if you are still looking in their eyes. This is why you must put so much time into your relationship beforehand, into exploring each other's souls, into building the extraordinary kind of trust and bravery that you need to have intercourse of both body and soul.

This two-leveled intercourse is what this girl and I created. How she did it, I don't know. Somehow, as she thrust me deep into her vagina again and again and again, her hands resting on my chest, she remained entirely open, though she was alternately terrified, ecstatic, confused, curious, worried, bold, tender, ravenous, male, female, androgynous, asexual, and nymphomaniac. As she thrust, she bent nearer and nearer my face until we were looking directly into each other's eyes. And that's when the orgasm hit both of us.

There are no words to describe what happened in that moment. You have to experience this sexual-spiritual alchemy for yourself. The best way I can describe it is that we suddenly became a fiery circuit, energy pumping out through my penis into her womb, roaring through her body and out through her eyes into mine, then torrenting down to my penis where it shot forth again. I honestly don't know if that moment ever ceased. I sometimes wonder if that kind of orgasm is eternal and if the gods take it to the heavens where it can burn in glory forever with the stars, but they pluck our mortal bodies out of it and return them to earth.

When we came to our senses, whether because of the gods or the weakness of flesh, we lay in exhausted reverie. As we bathed in this afterglow, I said, "I anoint your womb, that, according to your desire, it may be fruitful, and that you may have joy in your posterity. This is your final anointing."

(Don't worry, she didn't get pregnant by me. A vasectomy is part of the qualifications for this calling.)

An hour or so later, after we could stand up again, she and I were showered and wrapped in our bathrobes, and we were walking toward the door. She reached for the door handle, but then turned to me. She took my hand into both of hers and pressed firmly, looking up at me.

"It's going to get even better," she said. It wasn't a question; it was a statement. She was ready for her journey.

She cupped my cheek in her hand. "Thank you," she said.

"It was my pleasure," I replied, warmly.

She grinned impishly at me. "Oh, it was mine, too."

She thrust one skinny arm in the air. "To life!" she cried.

"To life!" I responded enthusiastically, pumping my own arm.

She threw the door open, gave me a big wave and bounced out.

As the door closed, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was a job well done. And, you know, I think that girl is well on her way to becoming an anointer herself. Did you see how she took over at the end? How she anointed ME? It was extraordinary.

I should talk about it with my wife tonight--with whom, yes, it is even better. Maybe she'll tell me about how things went with Richard.