0 comments/ 7035 views/ 9 favorites Yana the Sensualist By: EdDivers It was only one incident in my busy life, but an incident, so vivid and energising for me. Talking of it to my closest mates met with hoots of disbelief and derision. 'The dream of a sex-starved wanker,' was the sort of comment I drew from them. 'Why not tell it just as it was? You had a one night stand. No need to embellish it.' So the mocking, disbelieving responses flowed. Consequently, in the absence of anyone willing to take my word, I have resorted to writing it all down. It may read like a story but I'll have to take that chance. Avoiding the lure of university I had enrolled with a school of journalism, which I hoped would meet my needs. I was very pleased with the way my first year went, and, when I was nineteen, I, along with a few of the more successful students, was allocated a two day task. Each of us was directed to some area where we had to investigate and come up with a written piece which gave a different perspective to that particular area. I was allocated a small coastal town on the south coast, away from the better known resorts. I was delighted to find myself in a cosy ground floor hotel room that overlooked the sea. Having en-suite facilities made it even more of a novelty for me. That first brilliant June day I busied myself, interviewing, and note taking, chasing a line that would reveal the town as something more than a seaside resort. That evening, in the roomy dining area, I tucked into a lavish steak and kidney pie, while watching the swaying hips of several ladies who passed my table. Most of those ladies were accompanied. Not that it would have made very much difference. No Don Juan, me. When it came to the female form, I was very much a 'look and don't know how to get further' type. My only sexual experience up to that time had been two separate, hasty nights with a young lady call Melissa. Two people who were over-eager to lose their respective virginities, neither ending up with any amount of satisfaction. Neither of us sought to come back for more. There were a couple of unaccompanied ladies in the hotel dining room. One of them, about my age, in a garish floral dress, had her head down the whole time, shovelling steak pie into her mouth as though she hadn't eaten for weeks. The other lady, late twenties early thirties maybe, looked much more composed. Dressed in a dark blue, button-up summer dress, which revealed her shapely tanned shoulders, and didn't disguise a cosy looking bosom, she appeared to be surveying the occupants of various tables. As I stood up from my table, I wondered if it was ever possible for an unworldly nineteen year old like me to pluck up the courage to even begin a normal conversation with a woman like that. Thinking no more about it, I took a walk along the coast, enjoying the incredible warmth of the evening sun. When I returned to my room I was so heated that I decided to take advantage of the hotel's small swimming pool. A refreshing twenty minutes swim, was ideal. Later, in a green summer shirt and fawn pants, I wandered down to the lounge for an evening drink. That, there can be no doubt is where my incredible evening actually started. Sitting on a stool at the bar, sipping at a cooling lager, I was aware of someone moving onto the stool behind me. Then came a disturbing wave of tantalising perfume. Next came a rather husky female voice ordering, "Daquiri, please." All my instincts somehow informed me exactly who I would find when I turned. I was right. Dark blue dress, smoothly curving shoulders, a hint of slopes hidden beneath a low buttoned neckline, the perfume, all had already caught my breath. Now, I was looking into a beautiful, lightly made-up face, wide blue eyes, full generous lips that treated me to a half smile, and all framed in masses of raven black hair that reached to her shoulders, as that husky voice murmured gently, "Hello." Startled as I was by her wanting to talk to me, I was even more taken aback in noticing that there were several stools empty along the bar that she might have chosen. At that particular moment my mind could not absorb exactly how significant the whole situation might be. I only knew I needed to find my voice as she turned away to receive, and pay for, her drink, I grunted a horribly weak, "Hello." After taking a sip from her drink, she turned to face me again. Her perfume assailed my nostrils, and my breath shuddered in my throat as the tip of her tongue ran slowly along her upper lip. God, she was gorgeous. "On holiday?" she asked, her eyes wandered over my face. I managed to find a stammering voice to tell her why I was there. She looked genuinely interested, "You're still studying? You look too old for that." She was just being kind, I was sure, but I told her I was only nineteen, anyway. Her mouth twisted appreciatively, "Well, you certainly look older than that." She glanced across the lounge, before suggesting, "We're rather out in the open here. Should we sit in one of the booths?" I had earlier noticed the varying sized booths along one wall of the lounge. The smaller ones I had thought then looked like rather intimate retreats, and it was towards one of these that this lady led me now. Was I entering some kind of dream? Should I have felt any worry that this fabulous looking lady was paying me so much attention? The phrase 'Never look a gift horse,' came into my mind. Just be glad of the company, I told myself. Yet I couldn't help worrying that I would say something immature, something that would reveal to her how far out of her league I was. As she eased around the table to reach the leather bench seat against the wall, I couldn't take my eyes of her trim shapely buttocks as her dress pulled tightly over them. She sat and as I, uncertainly, pulled out a chair to sit opposite, her head shook, wafting a strand of hair across her face. "No, no," she said, patting the leather beside her, "sit beside me. I promise I don't bite." Breathing was definitely going to be a problem, but, trying to show a trace of positivity, I slid in beside her, so aware of those blue eyes watching me. As soon as I was settled, closer to her than I had expected, she said, "You can call me Yana. And I will call you--?" "Brad." "A good manly name," she said, her face was very close to mine. I managed to ask if she was on holiday, and she told me that she actually lived just along the coastline. Her perfume filled my head with crazy thoughts, like what must it be like to possess such an alluring woman. I leaned back slightly. Her eyes showed that she had detected my movement, but all she said was, "And what exactly are you studying?" When I told her, she flung back her head and gave a tinkling laugh. "You want to be a journalist?" "I want to be an author-- I thought journalism could be a helpful step." Her head nodded, and she swept another stray strand of hair back from her face, "Coincidence, it's remarkable. That's exactly how I started." "You're a journalist?" At least we could have something to talk about. That made me feel much more comfortable. Her mouth pouted a little before she said, "I dabble in all kinds of writing—I have a degree in psychology—so, much of my writing is based on studying people." "In what way?" "Oh, just by observing them, their body language, their levels of confidence. Pure observation." That took away some of my comfort. No doubt she will have already recognised my uneasiness. As though reading my thoughts, she said, "Don't look so worried. I've no clear picture of you." She paused, and then she added, a mystical, "Yet." To suppress my unease, I asked, "How else do you study people.?" "By asking them questions in a subtle way," Her blue eyes were fixed firmly on mine as she went on. "I might learn about their attitude to work. Do they feel happy in their job? If not, what would they rather do?" For a moment her eyes looked around the lounge. Looking for better company, I wondered. "I'm particularly interested in how partners come together. I'm fascinated by the way men and women select each other. It's not always physical attraction." Those blue eyes locked on mine before she went on. "But I think it's important." Her tone was so avid that I struggled to find something to say, finally managing, "And people are willing to talk about there lives to you?" "As I said, I have to be subtle. Essential when you are asking someone about their sexual proclivities, for instance." Fascinated, I could not stop myself from asking, "You have no problem asking such questions?" Now her eyes really fixed on me as she answered, "I have absolutely no inhibitions about sex." I was momentarily transfixed by the firmness with which she made that statement. "In fact I'm rather partial to it." Like some hopeless adolescent I could not prevent my eyes from dropping to the slight suggestion of cleavage at the neck of her dress. Maybe that provoked my next thought. Just what would it be like to kiss those luscious lips? But I could not take that searching gaze. It was as though she was reading my mind. I had to look away. "Would you mind if I asked you whether you have a girl friend?" I hadn't, not since Melissa. So her next question had my face flushing up and I could feel it. "How many girl friends have you—shall we say—slept with?" "Am I being interviewed?" She gave me a kindly smile, "I'm sorry if that's what it felt like. No, I'm strictly in relaxation mood tonight. But I'm always being nosey." So what could I say? Should I make up some bravado response? No, she would see though that. She was a psychologist, and maybe could read minds. My lack of immediate response, and doubtless the colouring of my cheeks prompted her to say, "Have I embarrassed you?" As she said it she placed a cool hand over mine where it was on the table. Not wanting to appear totally dumb I told her the absolute truth. "Only two sessions with a girl called Melissa." I didn't add, 'All too fast, then over.' Her head nodded knowingly, but her hand remained covering mine. As though she was reading my mind again Yana's question hit into my thinking. "When you did it, was it satisfying?" How long had we been in each other's company? Ten, fifteen minutes, at the most, and here we were talking about my sex life. I felt I could calm myself by asking a question of her. "Are you married?" A quick glance away, and then her eyes were back on me as she replied, "Once, many moons ago." Now, I felt I could ask the question that had tumbled into my mind a couple of times, and which, I hoped now, would somehow lighten the situation. "Do psychologists read minds?" Once more she sat back with that ringing laugh, as she shook her head, "Most of the time the answer would be 'no', but I have been able to detect at least one thought that has passed through yours." Please, God, surely not . "And that is--" Was that a teasing look in her eyes now? "-'What would it be like to kiss her? Am I right?" Brad could only look pathetically into those blue, blue eyes, as she leaned in close to him, and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek before asking, "Brad, one thing I cannot read is how old you think I am." Well, at least I could answer that, "I thought maybe twenty nine, around that." Yana looked pleased with that, "That definitely earns you a kiss. I'm thirty three, Brad." Her head shook and a slight smile played at the corners of her mouth as she went on, "Oh, Brad, your face gives so much away. Right now, I can read something else in your mind." Wondering whether I should start to be worried, but not really sure of anything since her offer of a kiss, I asked, "Can you really?" Her head nodded assuredly, "Oh yes, you are wondering 'Why is this older woman bothering with me?' Am I right?" Feeling so vulnerable and out of my depth with this knowledgeable woman, I admitted that she was correct and asked, "Just why am I getting your favours?" She smiled and raised a hand to briefly touch my cheek, "I thought that might be it, but I like the way you've phrased it. Can you, for the time being, just see yourself as my chosen companion for the night? I'll explain my whole character later in the evening." Later in the evening? How much later? What was she expecting of me? She would surely find what a hopeless character I was with the opposite sex. Once again she broke into my thoughts, "Anyway, your kind observation about my age deserves a real kiss. Would you like that?" My mind whirling with the prospect of what she had just offered, I let my eyes travel worriedly around the lounge. There were a number of people sitting close. But Yana's voice brought my thoughts back quickly, "Oh, too obvious in the lounge." Then her eyes really held me as she added, "You have a room here?" My room? She would come to my room? A shiver ran over my skin, whether it was anticipation or me being a nervous wimp, I couldn't say. But I managed to tell her that it was on the ground floor. Her face lit up, "Now that would be an ideal place to receive your kiss with total privacy, wouldn't it?" I nodded numbly. Was I stepping too far here? Or was I daring to expect too much? Yana was sliding out of her seat, "Just stay there a moment," she said, and walked with a seductive sway up to the bar. My eyes nervously scanned the lounge. There were one or two couples sitting, but nobody appeared to be taking any notice of us. Then Yana was coming back, clutching an uncorked bottle of white wine. She gave me a a huge smile as she said, "Just a little refreshment. Right, lead the way, Brad." Already the production of the wine suggested more than just the proposed kiss. Feeling that my legs were going to give way under me, I got to my feet, bumping against her as I straightened. There was a momentary thrill of a soft breast against my chest, and then I was walking out of the lounge, with Yana alongside me. I'll never know where my mind was during the next three minutes, but I only seemed to regain consciousness as my room door closed behind us, and Yana murmured, "Pleasant room." There was still evening light coming through the window, but Yana walked confidently across the room, to the small dressing table where two tumblers stood. As I stood slightly aghast at my own immobility, she poured wine into each glass, and held one out to me, while taking a small sip from her own. When I shook my head, she put the glasses down, and said, "Ah, yes, you're waiting for your kiss." She turned to the window, and saying, "Best shut out any prying eyes," she drew the curtains, and cleared the resultant gloom by switching on a bedside light. God, she was so confident in everything she did. It could well have been her room. She, a moving vision, came towards me where I stood against the wall. Then that vision, that delectable body, was pressed against me, as she raised her mouth to mine, whispering, "I always keep my promises." The next moment I was lost in the sheer wonder of our mouths locked together, her tongue immediately probing for mine. For this part I could respond, French kissing was not new to me, but never had I experienced such oral tingling, a glow that spread through my limbs, and I wrapped my arms around her. I dared to half open my eyes, and saw that hers were closed. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, sending sparks through my shirt. Was she really enjoying my kiss? At that moment, without breaking the kiss, her body eased back, her left hand closed on my right and raised it. The next second I found my hand sliding into a mysteriously unbuttoned gap in her dress, and gliding over the deliciously smooth roundness of her right breast. Did she really want me to do this? My mouth on hers must have registered some element of my surprise, for she briefly broke the kiss, and whispered, "I'm all for skin on skin, Brad. Is that all right?" All right? It was just bloody amazing, but I could only nod my spinning head. My fingers had just begun to trace over the gorgeous swell, lingering over the fragile nipples, when her right hand reached for my left. This time she was urging it almost straight across, and once again my hand was finding a gap in her dress, and suddenly I was stroking the most incredible smoothness of her thigh. Again she broke the kiss to murmur, "Oh, yes, Brad, just stroke me. Up and down. You have lovely touch." Now I knew, for certain, I was headed for something wonderful, and my pants bulged with the renewed excitement of it all. I stroked upwards, and found my fingers touching pubic hair unfettered by any panties. Had she been so prepared for this? My whole body was shaking with the shock of it all. To add to this, her fingers were now working on the buttons of my shirt. In no time she had pushed it away from my shoulders. It couldn't drop away because of the position of my hands. However, several things were happening, quite apart from my pleasure at having Yana's more intimate areas under my fingertips. Her hands, having pushed my shirt away, were now roaming, open palmed, up and down my chest. Her action was sufficient to increase the pressure in my pants. But I was sure that the work my hands were doing was producing extra pressure and movement of her lips and tongue. With the kiss broken she leaned back and looked into my face, no doubt reading the passion that had to be showing there. In her case, I was sure there was a shadowing of those blue eyes, but when she spoke, a teasing smile came with it. "I thought it was just going to be a kiss?" She laughed then, before adding, "We've made a good start. Brad, you're going to find that I'm all for skin on skin. Hands, feet, bodies, whatever, if they are coming together that is the nearly the ultimate." Having touched her so intimately my confidence was beginning to rise, and as, with one finger, I scrubbed at her nipple, my other hand moved faster on her thigh, occasionally bumping up into her pubic area. I admitted in a firmer voice than I had been able to use up to this point, "It is good," And as an afterthought I added, "Thank you." "Don't thank me. We've only just begun." I was aware of her fingers unfastening my belt buckle, and sliding my pants zip down. My breathing had stopped, I was sure. Tension fused my whole body. Just where was this going? Was she going to let me—? Her voice broke into my thoughts, "Before I go any further I have to ask you another personal question." "Which is?" I asked, in a choking voice, as I guessed she had pulled my boxers clear of my erection, and I awaited that first touch of her fingers on my penis. "Has any woman ever taken this—" And her fingers were excitingly there, stroking lightly over my erection,-" in her mouth?" She laughed at what she read in my face, "Oh, I've shocked you. So I guess the answer is 'no.'" Shock was hardly the word for what her question had provoked in me. I had heard others boast about 'blowjobs', but I had never even dared think about it. "Then may I be the first?" How would I be able to control my impulses? I just had to warn her, "What if a cum too quickly?" I had enjoyed the gentle sound of her laughter, but I couldn't understand why she would laugh now, as she said, "Brad, that is exactly what I want you to do, and in this instance the sooner the better." Her fingers ran along my throbbing erection, "This," she said quietly, "needs to have the tension removed, swiftly and cleanly, and then we can consider what should happen next." The idea of spurting my seed into that delicate mouth was just too overpowering. "But it will—" Her face was very serious now. " No 'buts', I want you to listen very carefully to what I say, because in a moment I'll have my mouth rather too full to speak." Her smile returned, but the image still appalled me even as it teased my curiosity. I recalled my short lived slide up into Melissa's vagina, how different could this be? Yana the Sensualist "First, of all," Yana continued, "you could consider this as my extra gift to you. That's all it might be. But while I proceed your hands will be free. So give me something by playing with my hair, little scrubs to my scalp, especially near the ears, I like that. Importantly, be sure when you're about to cum, you do not try to pull out." "But won't it be my automatic reaction?" I asked, revealing my inexperience. I wanted to ask what she had meant by, ' my extra gift.' I was really groping in an unknown land, almost as the song said, I was 'a stranger in Paradise.' Yana's response was very firm, "Pulling out would be the worst thing you could do. Rather pull my head as close to you as possible. That will ensure that whatever you've got goes down my throat, and there'll be no mess." As she bent her knees, my hands lost their grasp on their cosy places. Was she really going to do what I was dreading, no, was longing to experience. Sheer confusion filled my head. And as I looked down, I saw her hand gently grasp my penis, holding it out straight, towards her open mouth. Her voice drifted up to me just once more, "Quite a thick one, Brad." How many had she known? That crossed my mind as her tongue flicked out and lapped at the purple head. Ah, that thrill, I was sure I would shoot before she got any further. With one glance up at me, her mouth enfolded my throbbing rod, and it was amazing to see it disappear into her. As ordered, my fingers played through her thick black hair, rubbing into it near her ears. It had a wonderful charge about it, but my whole attention was on what her tongue was doing to my erection inside her mouth. It rolled around it as though it was some succulent ice cream. Electrons shot around my lower body. Then her tongue was dispensed with as her mouth began to ride up and down along my length. My scrotum seemed to swell. I knew I wasn't far away. Her movements became quicker, forward and back forward and back. Hell, it felt so demanding. My fingers found some erotic repose in ploughing through her hair. Then, in quick succession she began to actually suck, before squeezing my scrotum. I saw her cheeks concave as with just one more demanding suck, my genitals were set on fire, and I knew my scrotum was releasing everything. I heard my loud desperate groan, which I am sure included her name in it. All instinct was to pull back, but I did exactly what she had said as my penis began to pulse out its load, and I pulled her head towards me and knew I was spouting deep down into her throat. Looking down at her stuffed mouth I could tell the motions she was making were swallowing actions. For me, it was pure relieving delight, a moment that was going to live with me forever, and it just seemed to go on and on, as I pushed and jerked against her face. How could I have so much cum inside me? Her eyes turning up towards me I'm sure covered a smile. At last the flow ended, and I could sense my erection collapsing, as it slipped slowly from Yana's mouth. She raised one hand and held it as the head appeared, with a single strand of cum still attached. She quickly licked it away, and stood up, bathing me in a bright smile. "That good for you?" she asked, as she moved to the table, picked up her glass of wine, and took a solid swig, before swilling it around her mouth and swallowing. "God, yes." I affirmed, stepping out of my pants, which had remained around my ankles. Feeling rather bold in my nakedness in front of this woman who had been a stranger less than an hour ago, I went to take the glass she held out to me. Taking my first sip, I noticed the questioning look on her face as she watched me. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Nothing's really wrong," she answered solemnly. "but you now have a big decision to make." "I do?" She nodded her head emphatically, "Oh, yes, you've had your kiss, plus a little bonus." She smiled as she said that and glanced down at my limp penis. "You are now emptied of tension, you are totally naked, and I am fully dressed. This is your room, and you need to decide if I should join you in your nakedness, or should I leave, with no hard feelings." Utterly shocked and surprised at this unexpected turn of events I said, "You wouldn't mind just leaving?" Her head shook, and she pushed back the strand of hair that fell across her face. "If that's what you want." I recalled things she'd said which had suggested a longer stay like. 'my chosen companion for the night.' I told her of that, and her later comment of 'see what happens next." She smiled as she said, "That's exactly where we are at this moment. Which is it to be?" There was really no question. Standing there naked, having already experienced her erotic touch, having the prospect of seeing her naked, there was no way I could let her go, and that is what I told her. Was that genuine relief on her face? "Good," she laughed, " that work my mouth did on you was really to empty you for further activity." "Do you like doing that?" She looked thoughtful for a moment, "It's a challenge," she said, and I drew a breath as she began to unbutton her dress, "especially given the manner in which I first experienced it. I have to admit I avoid it when I can. Except for special cases." "But how was I a special case?" I asked, shuddering as her dress fell open, revealing half a slope of each breast, a fascinating triangle of black hair, and a hint of the tanned thighs that I had already stroked. "You were ready to burst. Now you are clear for a while, and there's no fuss, no dross." She patted her stomach. "It's all down here. Quite a load, wasn't there? No way could you have held that through what we're going to do." "I-I'm intrigued," I stammered, as she slipped her dress off one shoulder, revealing the breast that I had fingered, but was now seeing for the first time. It had to be the perfect breast, neatly rounded, just big enough for a spread male hand, and with brown tempting nipples that added a jutting pride to the whole feature. Yana now put on a very slinky look, with her tongue resting on her lower lip, and her eyes half closed in sultry fashion, as slowly, deliberately slowly, she allowed the dress to slide from her other shoulder. With both breasts exposed, she held the dress together over her lower half, before very slowly letting it slip, revealing first of all an extremely flat belly, before the first stark black line of pubic hair. Finally the dress fell to the floor, and Yana stood there arms held wide as though to declare, "Here I am." I could think of nothing to say but, "Temptress," as she took two steps back to sit on the lower edge of the bed. She giggled, and pointed at my flaccid penis, "Can't be much of a temptress. I must have done a good job on him." She patted the bed beside her, "Sit beside me." As I settled beside her, I was congratulating myself at taking this present situation so calmly, given my earlier concerns. I suddenly realised that this would be the very first time I had been naked alongside a female who was also naked. Even when Melissa and I had our brief humps together, she refused to remove all her clothing. I told Yana this, and she shrugged, "Then tonight you are entering a different world." "It's felt like that for quite some time," I said honestly. She half turned towards me and placing one hand on my chest, she lifted mine to rest on her thigh. "I've hinted already, Brad, that I'm a huge believer in skin against skin, the power of touch, the thrill of body against body. You may have wondered whether I might be a nymphomaniac?" It had fleetingly crossed my mind at some early point, but not enough for me to mention here. "No, not really." "Good," she said, her hand moving slowly over my chest, giving me a sense of being favoured. "Don't stop stroking my thigh. You see, Brad, I see myself as a sensualist, favouring touching, skin contact, the tactile over all else." I could not disguise my surprise, "Even over--?" "Yes," she came in quickly, "even what some would class as the ultimate. I see it only as a conclusion. An essential conclusion very often. A delightful conclusion when perfect, but it is all the finale of sensualism." Her hand moved away from my touch, and she began to ease herself back on the bed, until when she was centrally placed, she said, "Please come and kneel alongside me, Brad." Then she spread herself flat on her back, arms stretched out, legs wide apart. The sheer abandonment of her action had my hands clenching and unclenching. As I moved to be alongside her I could not resist a glance into her open crotch, where, among the blackness of hair, I could detect the tantalising sight of a pink opening. Yana must have caught my glance,for she gave me an impudent smile, and said in her huskiest voice, "Tempted, Brad? It doesn't show." And she waved her hand in the direction of my dead penis. "Maybe his time will come." Kneeling at her side, my eyes feasting in the total wonder of her curvaceous body, I awaited her instructions. They were immediate as she quietly told me, "Every inch of my skin wants to be touched by you. Skin is so sensitive that any part of a body can become an erogenous zone. You found that spot in my scalp just behind my ear, didn't you?" I nodded my head, longing to touch her, wondering where to start. I was soon finding out. "I've treated you, now you will be treating me. Your open palms on the skin, fingers where necessary, even lips and tongue if you wish. Just one rule on this occasion--no lingering, tempting as it may be. Start in my hair, and just work your way down." Very quickly I had my fingers roaming through her raven hair, drawing up strands and letting them fall, scrubbing my fingertips into her scalp. My position brought my face very close to hers, her blue eyes were bright showing her pleasure, her rich full lips were slightly parted, and it seemed quite natural to stoop and place my mouth on hers. The tangling of our tongues was electric but very brief as she turned her head away, and I recalled the 'no lingering' clause. My fingers left her hair, trailed over her broad forehead, over her high cheek bones, down to flicker at her lips, which parted to take a jocular snap at them. With the fingers of one hand stroking her throat, I reached with the other to run an open palm from shoulder, down her arm to her own finger tips, which gently close and opened on mine. On the return up her arm to her shoulder, I was sure her body gave a little jerk of pleasure. The hand that had stroked her neck now repeated the journey down her other arm with the same result. When both hands were back to her shoulders, gently sliding over their subtle curves, I realised that my next move would take my hands onto those wonderful breasts. So far the feel of her skin had set mild stirrings deep in my belly, but just the thought of those breasts produced a definite twitch down there, although everything remained limp. I slid one hand onto the upward slope of her right breast, until the fingers were circling the nipple. On sudden impulse the other hand roamed quickly over her left breast, but then I had it travelling on to trail up and down the elegant concave waist. I bent my head and my lips kissed , and my tongue licked at her right breast, finally enclosing the nipple, which grew under the touch of my tongue. "Oh, that's good," Yana sighed, and I wasn't sure whether she was referring to the attention her breasts were receiving, or my hand coasting up and down her waist from hip to breast. It didn't matter as long as she thought it good. I was enjoying this so much that I was beginning to flatter myself as a great lover. I was some distance from being that, but somehow, Yana's influence inspired me. "Don't linger," came her instruction, and I allowed both hands to slide down over her flat belly, my right hand ruffled among her pubic hair, while my left slid over it, dipped briefly between her legs to notice the beginning of dampness in the cleft there. As I let my left hand seek down to the incredible smoothness of her inner thigh, my right slid from her bush and my fingers traced along those exciting lower lips. I had never touched a woman in this intimate fashion before but it felt so natural. The lips began to part under my touch and the moisture was fascinating. I ran my fingers along the groove, and they could have sunk deeper. "You can touch down there with your tongue, Brad." Her voice sounded more strained and breathless. Her words though had me frozen for just a moment. Put my tongue down there? It had never entered my mind. The very idea of it appalled me. Was it a clean thing to do? Yana must have sensed my hesitation as she said, "You've never done that before, have you? I'll leave it up to you." Did she sound disappointed? Would not doing it show what an utter beginner I was? Well, wasn't I? Most of what had taken place so far had been new to me. Then I recalled Yana's willingness to take my erection into her mouth. With that in mind, while keeping my left hand stroking her inner thigh from knee to pubes, I tentatively lowered my head to where my fingers were, and poked my tongue into warm wetness. First there came the aroma, musk mixed with delicate perfume, surprisingly not unpleasant. As my tongue moved forward I was astounded at how creamy the sensation was. I began a deeper lick, but then her voice stopped me. "Thank you for that, Brad, but no lingering. And I think you can start on the other side now," she sighed, as her body moved away to turn over onto her front. "Very much flat palms here, Brad." Her back was surprisingly appealing with the side curves leading down to those elegant buttocks, seeming to be pleading for a caress. My hands started by stroking her hair, then, open palmed as requested, her shoulders, her waist, her hips, and the whole of that smooth back came under my touch. As my hands cruised over the wonderfully solid buttocks, I felt the first stirring in my groin. Then Yana's voice urged me on, "A hand on either side, and separate my cheeks." I did as asked, knowing what I would find, and was quickly gazing down at the tight little orifice of her anus. My uncertainty at that point was eased by her next request. "I'm very sensitive around that point, Brad. Just a gentle touch with one finger." Again, invading unknown territory, I was cautious, as I placed my index finger on the rim of the tiny hole. "A little push inside," Yana's voice sounded almost pleading. Inside there? God, what was I learning in this evening, but I did as instructed, and noted the little jerk it provoked in Yana's thighs. How far could I--? But the next moment she was rolling over to sit up beside me, at the same time planting a warm quick kiss on my lips "Thank you, Brad. Now you have some idea of what a sensualist is like. But there's my own little treat, and I'll show you that after we empty those glasses." Then she slid from the bed, and collected our two glasses. It was a joy to watch that naked body in motion. As we drank the remnants of her earlier pouring, Yana talked briefly about what she was about to do. "You're welcome to think this is for your pleasure, and I do hope it pleases you, but, believe me, this is a skin on skin activity that I enjoy. Feel free to use your hands whenever you have the chance. Now just lie back." Intrigued, I did as I was asked. Instantly, she was lying on top of me, her mouth on mine, her fingers in my hair, her breasts soft on my chest, belly to belly, her bush bristling delightfully against my lowr abdomen, her legs lying along my legs. She gave a slight wriggle to emphasise our contact points. My hands stroked along and around her back. She broke the kiss to whisper, "Perfect position for a sensualist like me." With the kiss broken, her lips moved down my neck, while her finger tips trailed down either side of my face. I kept one hand stroking her back while I ran the other one through her hair. Her breasts were now pressed against my lower chest, and her next move gave me a surprise, plus an extra thrill. Moving her hands from my face, she placed them on either side of my chest, and levered herself up on her arms. This movement meant that from having her breasts squashed against my chest, now only her nipples were touching me, and very slowly she began to give me the full exquisite pleasure of those nipples tickling my chest. It was a sensation I had never experienced before, and I felt the immediate twitching of my limp penis. As she rose up high, her smiling sultry eyes looked into mine, as she growled sexily, "Approve?" I could only nod my head, as she moved her breasts downwards, occasionally allowing them to press more fully than just the nipples. Gradually she eased herself down so that all I could reach was her hair and just touch her shoulders. Nipples and breasts now floated around my belly, if they'd had electrodes attached it could not have been more effective. It was one of the most erotic experiences I had ever had, and as she'd moved her breasts down, her lips and tongue had followed, tracing over my chest, licking at my own nipples. I was sure my penis had risen to semi-erect. I didn't have long to wait for confirmation, as she wriggled her body lower and those luscious breasts settled over my penis. Now she moved her hands onto her breasts to push them together around what was obviously a rapidly hardening penis. "Good?" her husky voice drifted up to me. "Better than that," my own voice was barely a grunt. Then the breasts moved on to between my legs somewhere, as Yana's lips and tongue, travelled down, and I was very aware of her tongue travelling slowly along my erect penis. Reaching the bulbous head her tongue lavished around it and, very briefly, her lips enclosed it. If I was thinking this was all too much for my unpractised libido, but what came next had me fearing an embarrassing accident. I felt one finger lift my penis which gave her tongue scope to trail down its length along that thick blue vein. A threat came as her tongue reached my scrotum, for, in the next moment I felt her mouth close around my whole sack, and she gave my balls a gentle suck. Anymore of that and I feared I'd cum. "Oh, God, Yana," I exclaimed, and I heard her little laugh as she released my scrotum. Everything went into reverse. Tongue along the underside of penis, around the head, and down the length. Her mouth moved onto my belly, her breasts favoured my erection very quickly, before they began their teasing ascent, sometimes nipples only, over my belly and chest, with her lips and tongue travelling ahead. Her hands continued to support the action of her breasts but I was glad to regain a touch on her, first her hair, then her shoulders and back. Very quickly her lips and tongue were mingling with mine and it was wonderful. But just as quickly her head moved on upwards, I felt her legs straddling my body and the moist trail of her bush tickled over my belly, as with her continued upward motion, her breasts were in my face. I heard her murmur, "You've got some work now." But my mouth and tongue were already luxuriating in the bounty of her breasts. Her nipples I sucked on avidly, while my hands tried to reach down to her bush which Yana was deliberately circling on my upper belly. But the breasts were quickly moved on, and with rising excitement, and some curiosity as to how I would deal with this, I realised that her whole womanhood was moving towards my face. One after the other her knees lifted over my arms until they straddled my head, and my face was nuzzling into the hairy moistness of her. But it was much too close for me to take any action, almost suffocating me. What a way to go! Yana the Sensualist Thoughtfully, and probably needfully, Yana eased her position so I could look up and, using my thumbs, part those lips to view the pink petals that awaited my attention. This time, partly because I had more confidence, and partly because of the way Yana had favoured me, I had no problem in dipping my tongue into that creamy morass. "To the front, Brad," Yana gasped, and I was aware for the first time that her breathing had become laboured. "Seek the small nub, my clit." I drew back my head, saw in the tangle of petals what could be a small nub. I applied my tongue to it, and her whole body trembled, and she gave out a long sigh. That had to be the spot. My tongue gave it the fullest attention, while my fingers strolled beyond to find her delicious entry, and also tickled back towards her anus. Busy as I was with my lips and tongue bathing in her succulent juices, I became very aware of the gasps and groans of her breathing. Within a couple of minutes her wetness was pulled away from my mouth as she slid her body down until we were face to face, and my erection was tight against her inner thigh. "I think it's time we fucked, don't you?" she sighed, and I guess my face showed some kind of doubt, even though I wanted it desperately, for she added, "Don't be concerned. You've really shortened my fuse." With that she rolled away onto her back, legs spread, and her hand clutching at my throbbing penis, which my body had to follow to lie between her thighs. "Honestly, Brad, I can't remember the last time I've wanted this so much." I drew in a breath as her hand guided my erection to her vaginal opening, and I knew the head was poised. "Just push, Brad," she whispered. "Long, gentle and slow." I knew myself that I needed it to be gentle and slow if I was going to show any kind of stamina. That first glide up inside Yana was a trip designed by the gods, so rapturous, so uplifting, as her vaginal muscles clawed at my rod. "You feel so immense inside me, Brad. Do it harder." Her words filled me with renewed vigour, I drew back and gave what I hoped was a strong thrust, and then another. I was doing it with a real, and mature woman. Feeling so self satisfied I drew right back, and plunged hard enough to have Yana sliding up the bed. Only with that last one I desperately realised that I'd been too clever and my scrotum was about to explode. That was the moment that I guessed it hadn't just been my own hefty plunging that had brought me to the brink, Yana's hips were heaving up against me, her thighs twitched against mine, and to my relief, she was whimpering, "Oh, God, yes, I'm --" Delighted I allowed myself to go. It took three or four mighty heaves between the two of us, in which I spurted and spurted again, gaining extra exhilaration from Yana's cries like some a raucous seagull as her own orgasm gripped her. We slowly caught our breaths, and I rolled my weight off her, although we stayed glued together with perspiration. Strands of her coal black hair lay glued to her face, and I reached out to push it aside. Her face was flushed a deep red as she looked up at me. "Hell, Brad, if I tell you that it was-" She checked and said, "Suffice to say you were the right choice." "Choice?" Before answering, she lifted my left arm, and snuggled her head down onto my shoulder. With my arm around her my fingers lingered on the edge of her breast. "Yes, remember I told you I was rather partial to sex." "With no inhibitions," I added. "Which you have since found out. But that is not wholly true," she raised her head for a moment to look at my face. "I have some restrictions when I'm looking for an evening of pleasure. For instance, would you believe that this evening, if you had been unwilling to follow my rather crude approach, I would have just finished my drink and gone home?" I was having some difficulty in seeing what she was getting at. "But why?" "Two things you know about me, I'm a sensualist, and I like studying people. Now given the former, I need to know that I, up to a point, am going to be able to impose my sensual desires. I reject any man who clearly only wants to push his organ up me, and away." "Does that happen much? I felt her head nod, against my shoulder, "I have made one or two misjudgements. Fewer these days." "So my naivety shone through?" Yana gave a little chuckle and kissed my shoulder, "Don't be hard on yourself, but it does account for the rather personal questions I asked you earlier in the evening. Having found you desirable, I needed to find the best starting point for us both to get the best out of our encounter." "You found me desirable?" I would have blushed if I wasn't already so high. "You were coming out of the swimming pool when I strolled down just having a look around. Your good body attracted me, and I genuinely thought you were older." "And that starting point--taking me in your mouth?" "Well, you know that was to free you from a premature." "And now?" "And now," she struggled to sit up and leaned over him, a look of warm desire on her face,- "—now we have the sensualist's delight." She pulled me into a sitting position, as I asked, "What's that?" Her eyes seemed to glow as she said, "Sharing a shower." Within seconds we were locked belly on belly, breasts to chest, under luke warm pelting streams of water. Water dripped from her chin, and eye lashes as she raised her mouth to mine. As our lips mingled I could not help but marvel at the sly sophistication of her movement. How did she do that? Somehow the skin of her belly circled over mine, a marvellous sensation. Soaping her was another joy. Rubbing suds over those breasts was erotic enough, but when that was extended down her flat belly, and I bent to caress over her thighs and her entire pubic area, it had me panting as it brought gasps of delight from Yana. Added eroticism came with her hands washing over me. Yana spent some time on my chest before her hands suddenly plunged down to clutch soapily around the whole of my still flaccid genitalia. Excitingly she worked her hands down my back, onto my buttocks where her fingers slid teasingly into the crack, poked and then were gone. As I returned the compliment on her buttocks, she spread her legs wide, as my fingers slid into the split, and tickled around her anus. She mystified me by murmuring, "For later." Then, once more, we were standing belly on belly allowing the pouring water to wash away the soap, as we kissed. Out, we dried each other with both vigour and affection. As she bent to dry my thighs and over my groin, she giggled, "Oh, look what is happening down here, a penisaurus rises from its lair." I had felt a stirring as she touched me, and thrilled now as her lips moved tenderly along my length, Dried, we moved back into the bedroom, my erection jutting in front of me. As we settled on the bed, she held me in her hand, leaned in close to whisper in my ear, as though there were eavesdroppers nearby. "Brad, I'm going to ask for something that I only occasionally allow any man to do." Her secrecy was always exciting and I wondered what was coming."And that is?" "All part of my sensualist nature. To feed my need to relish the touchy-feely, I would appreciate you stroking every inch of my skin—" She paused, gave me an inscrutable smile, and nodding to where her hand was still holding my erection, went on, "—with this." Her breath-catching laugh again, "Oh, your face! Will you do that?" I nodded dumbly, uncertain whether my face showed the surprise at her request or myexcitement at the prospect of carrying it out. Eagerly she gave me a swift kiss, before lying back on the bed. "Any starting point you wish," she whispered. Later, I would be asking myself what part of touching and stroking my solidly keen penis over her luxurious skin had been most exciting before, what was to be, that shock conclusion. Obviously trailing it between her parted thighs without ever attempting penetration, highlighted the pleasurable sensation of those hirsute lower lips. Along the inner thighs themselves had been exquisite, as was the slow glide over the flat of her belly. On her breasts, after poking my penis head at each nipple, it was so delicious to press them together around my erection. I was sure I could have driven myself to ejaculation by heaving between them. Wrapping my rod in her thick hair, still moist from the shower, brought another thrill. At her mouth, her lips parted only slightly to nip at the purple head, before her delicate tongue added its own touch of fire. Having her tighten her arms while I was lodged in her armpits was something of a novelty, Then, suddenly she was rolling onto her front, and the shapeliness of back and buttocks was there to be patrolled. Hair again, before a long penis glide down the incredible back and over the twin mounds of her buttocks. Yana's parted thighs afforded a second brief foray along her pubic delights, before I lay my, by this time, throbbing erection against the crack between her buttocks. Carefully parting the cheeks, I placed my penis in the gap and pressed the cheeks together. An exotic sensation. As I eased my penis back I felt it nudge on the little ring of her anus. At this point, Yana half turned her head and asked, "Would you care to enter me there?" My sharp intake of breath must have been louder than I thought for she said, "I told you, I was very sensitive there. But if you don't want to." "If you want it, I want it," I told her, and was actually filled with curiosity once more. Her hand reached out to one side and came back clutching her small handbag. She groped inside, and produced a small silver tube which she passed back to me, before pulling two pillows to rest her head on, while she came up on her knees to raise her buttocks. The tube appeared to be almost empty, and Yana said, "There should be sufficient to squeeze out about an inch of that cream on your index finger. Cream me inside, and entry will be easier." Thinking about how well used the tube seemed to be, I managed to just squeeze out an inch of white substance onto my index finger. With her buttocks raised it was no problem to get to her anus, but I remained tentative. My first touch at her little ring brought an appreciative, 'Mmm' sound from her and this encouraged me to push further. As my finger entered her I twisted it from side to side to ensure her passage was well lubricated. By the time my second knuckle was inside her, she had produced a number of growls of pleasure. Yana's voice seemed to tremble when she said, "Just a careful slow push into the entry, Brad. I guess this will be another first for you." I grunted my agreement, without mentioning that up to a few hours earlier the idea of entering her anus would have been abhorrent to me. From the emptiness of the tube it was obviously far from her first time. Placing my penis head on the rim of her anus I could see along her back that Yana's head was turned sideways on the pillow, as she giggled, "This is sort of doggy style." Then just as I was fearing she'd be too tight, my penis head suddenly slid inside her, and she let out an elongated, "Aaah, yes. Gradual now, Brad." Encouraged I eased further. God, it was tight, like having my prick gripped fiercely in a warm moist hand. But it was very, very pleasant, and as her grunts and growls increased, I found myself moving steadily deeper. Leaning as far over her back as I could, I took some of the weight on my left arm while my right hand reached around her to find, and fondle her wonderful breasts. While my lower body began a spontaneous humping rhythm, I occasionally slid by hand down her belly to tickled somewhere close to her clitoris. That produced whimpers of delight from Yana, but it also brought on a twitching of her hips and a convulsion in the tunnel where my erection was lodged. I was up inside her rectum as far as I could go, and those movements from her were just too much. The whole panoply of sensations seemed to hit me at once, and as Yana recognised my frantic pulsing, she hissed, " Do it, Brad. Let go. God, it's wonderful." 'Wonderful', was probably the word I would have used to describe the sensations that had me ejaculating madly inside her. So tight was it up there that I could really feel my own cream oozing around my penis head. My growls and grunts mingled with Yana's puppy-like whines. The retraction of my limp penis was slower than from her vagina, as these rear walls with their tightness seemed reluctant to release me. But as I came free, Yana rolled over under me so that we were lying face to face, exchanging grateful kisses. I kissed her lips, her eyes, her hair, her breasts, and she murmured words of praise at my efforts. At last we lay quiet in each other's arms, but only briefly as Yana struggled out from under me. "Time for another shower, and then I think we deserve some wine." That shower was every bit as sensuous as the first, and soon we were back on the bed, dried, refreshed and each holding a glass of wine. I hadn't been a big wine drinker, but that first mouthful went down very well, as we sat cross legged, facing each other. Unlike the first shower my penis remained flaccid, which, given the activity I had experienced, was not too surprising. Yana's blue eyes looked at me reflectively as she said, "I've told you how and why I select an evening's partner." I nodded my head, and asked what I had been wondering, "How often do you do that?" She grinned at me for a moment, "You know, I have never allowed discussion of my past or my reasons with any of the others. Somehow, you have become a different case . So, to answer your question, it might be once a week, maybe a fortnight, rarely more or less often than that." Luxuriating in the idea of her classing me as different I put in, "You called me a special case after you'd—" I gestured down to my limp penis, and searched for how to phrase it. "—mouthed me." She nodded, chuckled, reached for the bottle, and poured more wine into my glass, which I was surprised to see I'd almost emptied. Then she sat back, gave me a long hard gaze, before saying, "That because that's what you were then—special. It's even more so now." "You said something earlier about the way you first experienced it. What did you mean?" For just a moment her mouth gave a little twist, and she glanced away, before, her eyes firmly fixed on my face, she said, "I've never told this to anyone. Maybe because it made me sound weird. I find I want to, need to, tell you what happened to me. Want to hear it?" My head was feeling slightly fuzzy, and I knew the wine was getting to me. "If you want to tell me," was all I could manage. Yana wriggled until we were side by side my arm around her, our skins touching down one side, as she began talking in a strangely stilted tone. "I was assaulted just before my nineteenth birthday." That had made me jolt to look into her face. Her eyes had darkened as she nodded her head, as she went on. "It was a summer's night, walking home from a friend's house. I was only wearing a white blouse and a summer skirt, no bra. Oh, to cut this short, as I passed this large van three men suddenly jumped out and I was dragged into the back of the van. A hand was clapped over my mouth." I sat horrified at what she was saying, taking quick gulps at my wine, as she spoke of hands roaming all over her body, especially her breasts, since they were bare beneath her blouse. She was sure she was going to be raped. But found it strange that they kept on saying she wouldn't be hurt if she did exactly what they wanted. "It was a father with his two sons, both in their early twenties, I guessed. Their hands on me were surprisingly gentle, my breasts and thighs tingled. Oh, Brad, I was so ashamed, so disgusted with myself, at finding their touch pleasant.". Sipping more wine, I could see how troubled the recall was for her. "Look, Yana, if this is too—" "No, I want to finish it. " Yana reached and nuzzled her face into my neck as though to gain strength. "The father told me that all he wanted was for me to suck off his two boys, and swallow the cum so there was no evidence. They were virgins in that department, he said. If I tried any biting then I would really get it.". Shocked, angry and just a little dizzy, I hugged Yana closer, and took another gulp of wine. Her face looked up at me, as she went on. "The father insisted on being first, and after his nasty little cock finally spurted down my throat, I had learned by sucking hard I could end it quickly, and it took only seconds to finish off the two sons." "And that was the end of it?" I asked her, as she topped up my glass for the third or was it the fourth time. I was losing track. "More or less. I was quickly released, feeling rather lucky, yet strangely disturbed." "It had an effect on you?" Her head nodded, as I took another mouthful of wine, "I already had a notion that being touched was highly desirable, but I could theorise that much of my sensuality stemmed from that incident." Then, as though freed by her revelation, she gave a sharp chuckle and pointed down at my groin, "Oh, I see it had an effect on you." A little befuddled, I was amazed, when I looked down, to see my penis pointing strongly upwards. "God, it must be the wine." But was my voice just a little slurred. I really wasn't used to wine drinking in any quantity. "I didn't think I had the strength." She smiled, leaned into me and her lips settled briefly on mine, before she moved her head to my chest, and on downwards, and as though from a greater distance, I heard her mutter, "No harm in a farewell kiss though, is there?" Farewell? That word had not come into my thinking. I did not like the suggestion of separation in that , yet my senses could not find a response. My breathing stopped as her lips and tongue and fingers, settled over and around my erection. Then for a magic moment I was totally engulfed in that lovely mouth. Just as quickly, she determinedly came back up, put her hands on my shoulders, and pushed me onto my back. "The final countdown," she whispered as she leaned over me. It was all too ludicrous. My head was reeling, my reactions were uncertain, yet my penis was alert and ready. Yana straddled herself over me, "Here's to a lovely evening, Brad," she whispered as she slowly sank down to skewer herself on my wayward erection. "Would you just stroke my breasts? I'll do the other work." I became very aware of my penis being driven up into her wonderful moistness, but totally under Yana's impetus. I was only too pleased to carry out her instruction and concentrate on those gorgeous full breasts. I tried to raise my head to kiss them, but just hadn't the strength. Yana was looking down at me. Oh, those blue eyes, they hypnotised me. Every part of her had hypnotised me. My hands concentrated on those two globes and their brown nipples, but I knew my concentration was somehow adrift. Was her gaze a loving one? I wished I hadn't drunk so much wine. I so wanted to give to her, but Yana was doing all the giving, as she lifted and lowered along my rod. I wanted to heave my hips up to meet her movements, which were coming faster and harder. Yes, oh, yes, she was really pounding down on my erection. Harder and harder, heaving and pushing me towards-- "Let go, Brad. Just release. I want you to." And now she circled her hips more vigorously, more positively, determined to make me climax. "Fill me up, Brad. Just one more time. Fill me." Was it her words? Or was it her movement? Whatever it was I felt it happening. I didn't think I had the strength for it. Hotly, I felt the rush up my shaft as my scrotum evacuated. I was filling her, just as she had wanted, and with my last elements of strength I managed to heave my hips up to supplement her efforts. Yana the Sensualist Yana gasped happily, and muttered, " Oh, so good, Brad. So good." I lay back, exhausted, my breathing heavy, total gratitude in my heart, as I took one look at her smiling down at me. I closed my eyes drowsily. Her husky voice came through to me as through a distant tube, too far away for me to react, or respond to, even though the words weren't always what I wanted to hear. "Rest now, Brad. Rest, renew and remember. Thank you for being my companion. I hope I've given you something you can base your love life on. Perfect it in casual encounters. You won't find my like again. Don't try to find me. But take it forward and when you find the woman who is going to be yours forever, give it all to her, and only her. But please, Brad, remember me. Remember me." I slept. When I woke up, pale light was creeping through the curtains. I was naked, and alone on the bed. Yana? I climbed out of bed and looked into the en-suite. It was empty. Then I noticed her blue dress had gone from the chair where she'd placed it. I hadn't dreamed Yana, had I? No, memories were too sharp. Then something silver caught my eye just under the bed. It was the empty tube that had contained the cream. So it was true. Yana had really happened. She was a memory to carry forward in my life. But nobody believed it. I followed what I recalled of Yana's advice, tested myself on other women, with some signs of appreciation. Then I met my darling tawny haired, Linda, and was never in doubt. On our honeymoon, after one long evening session, she sighed, "Where did you learn to be so good for a woman?" Nothing I could say except, "If I told you, you'd never believe me."