“The beautiful thing about learning is nobody can take it away from you.” -B.B. King
I have always encouraged by my peers to learn new skills wherever possible and within this current climate, something new to fall back on when it all goes tits up at work and the company I work for goes bankrupt at the directors laugh all the way to the bank, should always come in useful. Which is one of the reasons why I launched myself with great vigour towards the opportunity presented to me one day from a journalist friend.
“I’ve a bit of a favour to ask, a rather strange favour.” The email read. I was intrigued. “I’m doing a piece on this tantric workshop for couples and the guy I was going with has wussed out.”
“Of course, darling. Count me in.” I replied. She seemed surprised at my almost immediate response and one that rang of such willingness and ease.
“Great, you are so fab for doing this. Big kisses. It’ll be fun and we might even learn something.” she said.
“Let’s hope, hey? I’m looking forward to it and learning with you.”
I was certainly drawn to the learning aspect, what with New Labour’s drive at us all becoming more skilled in the back of my mind and I always feel duty bound to my government to take on new ways to contribute to society. But to be honest, I was more interested in being naked in a room full of people. Something that I never turn down, if I can help it.
Or at least that’s what I thought. Because you know what I was thinking about already, don’t you? I pictured other couples in a circle like in a lamas class while some ethereal lady in her fifties in an unfortunately loose fitting towel like Streisand in Meet the Fockers encourages us all to huff and puff and create guttural, chattering noises.
I followed the emailed instructions to where it was taking place. We were to meet at the London Tantric Temple but noticed that rather than some ancient palace of worship or communal centre where workshops like puppy training and Microsoft Excel for the over 60’s take place, I was actually being directed to a basement flat in a road in West Kensington. I didn’t know the area that well but noted that it was just around corner from the old Nashville Rooms, where The Jam, The Sex Pistols and Joy Division (amongst many others) used to play and also a place called West 14, where my friend Alys won a national singer/songwriter competition a couple of years ago.
I arrived at the flat and I meet the photographer for the magazine, who is waiting outside. There seems to be no answer. My friend arrives looking curious and the three of us try the bell again. Nothing. They must be meditating, I think to myself.
The door eventually opens by a young man and we are led through a corridor and into a kitchen, where we are offered a hot beverage and introduced to Freya, or should I say Goddess Freya. No, that’s not me imparting a charming compliment (we’ll get to them) but what we are told is her title and thus how she is introduced to us. As we collect ourselves and my friend chats to the photographer about mutual friends and working environments I’m not sure of, I ponder to myself how one officially becomes a Goddess. Perhaps there is some sort of night class or Open University access course one can take in their spare time. In actual fact, she had studied both Psychotherapy and NLP, not to mention training from one of the leading practitioners of tantra in the country. I felt that we may be in good hands, after all.
We were soon ushered into a room and it was only then that I realised that this was going to be more of an intimate affair and, as it turns out when the door is closed behind us, just the three of us. Myself, my friend and the Goddess. Suddenly, I feel rather glad that I came. Freya was like my friend, in her mid 20’s, long flowing curls and pointy boobs, quite evidently on show under a long flowing dress that was just held up at the neck in a loose knot that she would soon untie and let the whole ensemble drop to the floor. She floated around rather comely on the stripped hardwood floor in her bare feet. Yep, I thought. You’ll do.
The room was decked out like some sort of Omar Sharif film set and definitely not the sort of atmosphere I‘m used to. Velvet drapes, tea lights, incense, soft cushions, throws with Eastern patterns on them, all backed with a relaxation CD of animal noises backed to harpsichord. Dolphins or Whales, I think to myself. In fact, the only thing out of place but I guessed vital was the professional massage table in the centre of the room. Immediately though, the two of us sensed the obvious positive and sexual energy in the room. Not bad for a West London bedsit, I should say.
We changed into sarongs and the photographer quickly had us go through the different positions required for the piece before leaving us to it. Freya then lead us towards a mattress in the corner, covered in soft rugs and furnishings where a quick interview was conducted with a click of a tape recorder.
“It’s not a goal oriented experience,” she explained about how to truly honour and worship the body, as we looked on in wonder as we learnt all about female Shaktis and male Shivas. “It’s about really being in the moment and embracing the sensual beings that we all are.”
I was certainly starting to feel sensual, aside from the sarong wrapped around my waist. My thoughts turned to those pictures of David Beckham wandering around LA in one, after some dubious fashion advice from his missus and I started to realise exactly how much I do not look like David Beckham. Freya tells us that she gets all sorts of people coming to her. All shapes, ages and sizes. Men, women and couples. We get onto the psychological and health benefits of tantric massage as she describes that it can help with all number of problems and conditions. My friend tells Freya of how she is hoping that experience will help with her recurring Vaginisimus, a fear of sexual penetration. Freya tells us of the benefits of relaxation and meditation for such a condition and instantly I feel my friend begin to relax, as she has been pretty scared about it all up to now. Me, I was indifferent. I just wanted to get naked. It wasn’t a perversion, I just felt more comfortable with nothing on than half dressed.
We were soon positioned so we were sat cross-legged opposite one another and our hands linked, with the Goddes facing our centre at one side. She taught us some breathing techniques and I tried as best as I could to let the stressful moments of the day peel away from me like layers, as she’d instructed. I’d come to this straight from work on a Friday evening, so suffice to say, there was enough peel to make a couple of jars of marmalade. Freya then encouraged my friend to sit in my lap with her legs wrapped around me and to hold our faces close so that effectively, we were breathing in and out of one another. A process that was extremely relaxing, not to mention both arousing and welcoming having a cute girl draped across my lap. I was beginning to like the Godess’ style, but her best was yet to come.
We were then motioned to a standing position where Freya untied my friend’s sarong and covered her eyes with a silk scarf, before duly exposing herself to us. Ever polite and chivalrous, I gladly removed my sarong also. Freya silently signalled me from the opposite side of the blindfolded body between us, taking my hands in hers around each side. She began to whisper the tantric monkier, ’beautiful Shakti’ as she ran her hands up and down her back while placing light kisses of worship on her shoulders and breasts, as I did the same. The Shakti’s blindfold was then removed and a surprised and curious look flashed across her face as she saw the both of us naked before her. The three of us embraced in a group hug and the idea that I could have been sat at home watching Casualty instead of where I was at that particular time, didn’t cross my mind at all.
Freya led us both by the hand to the massage table where we lay down our Shakti on her front. Large ostrich feathers were produced and I was shown the correct angle and tensile pressure to apply to the body in front of us as we both took one side. Hey, these things can get quite technical and it is important that you do it right.
Naked and with a large plume in each hand and with the surrounding smells and aromas, I felt a bit like Icarus. Especially being as taut, chiselled and gym fit as I am, of course. Soon they were taken from me though and Freya reached for my hands once more. She took my wrist in one of her hands and stroked my forearm.
“This is how light you want to be stroking.” she purred as her light touched scraped my skin and ran through the short hairs on my arm. I looked down at her shaven crotch as I attempted to negotiate exactly where to position the jutting length pointing out from me at this point. My problem was that the table was pretty much at the exact height of my crotch and as aroused as I was, the decision to either to keep it under the base and spend the entire time in a sort of crouched position. The other option was to place it on top where my Shakti was laying and in full view of the Goddess who was facing me during this time. It seemed an important one to fathom, as I imagined that it was going to be erect as this with no qualms whatsoever for the next couple of hours and being so substantial, I knew that it was important that my appendage didn‘t get in the way. In the end I got a little carried away as I moved up and down her body and it just ended up dragging along the mattress like a rolling pin attending to a large sheet of filo pastry.
Freya produced a couple of vails and poured out some warm oil onto my outstretched hands. I was surprised at how heated it was and the sensation made me shiver slightly.
“Watch out,” she says. “It’s a bit hot.”
I held onto it for a minute as I covered my hands in the sweet smelling substance before I applied it to the exposed shin on my side, mirroring Freya’s actions the whole time.
“Just copy what I do…” she mouthed. I ran my hands up and down her leg and across her back and at the top of the arm, sometimes passing and sometimes crisscrossing with Freya to her side over the base of Shakti’s spine and over the cheeks of her bum. We each spent time on the top of each of her legs, while breathing out light onto her sensitive areas. Freya certainly knew what she was doing because gradually I could feel the tense joints and limbs of the Shakti loosen and the sighs soon gave way to moans once we turned her onto her back and continued our stroking. She encouraged me to use my whole body within the massage and wherever possible my forearms, elbows and chest with the same light pressure. The both of us met at the Shakti’s breasts as we both lightly kissed and breathed on each of her nipples before lightly brushing her groin with each of our hands, our touches melting together as one. Freya applied a light cream to her hands and slowly warmed it in her hands while we observed the divine creature laid out in front of us, her senses and nerves heightened. The Goddess reached over for my hands and I threaded my fingers through hers as we placed them on the yoni and breast plate and once again relaxed in meditation. She continued her mantra,
“Beautiful Shakti…”
Our entwined fingers massaged the Shakti’s outer lips as Freya blew onto the yoni, breathing her unique healing light onto the area. We rubbed each outer lip slowly between our thumbs and forefingers, sliding up and down the entire length of the lip. Freya instructed the Shakti to keep on breathing to overcome her orgasm. I stood back slightly and watched on as the Goddess parted the Shakti’s thighs and massaged her clitoris softly. She breathed in and out, repeating her mantra as the Shakti’s turned it first clockwise and then the opposite way. Just as she was making the Shakti climax, she relaxed and got her to breathe in deeply along with her until her whole being heightened onto what this normally sceptic young man could only describe as another plain.
“Did we just have a threesome there?” my friend says to me, as we started to relax and hunt for our sarongs again. Goddess Freya mused at this and cocked her head to one side. I didn’t want to ruin the lovely mood by disagreeing her, so I made a non-committed sigh of agreement, thinking to myself that it was certainly nothing like the last time I was naked in a room with two girls. Some would say that the idea of being in this state of undress with two gorgeous feline specimens and there being no exchange of bodily fluids on your part would be somewhat frustrating. But it wasn’t at all.
I came out of the experience completely relaxed. I felt wholly aroused being in the presence of these two beautiful, naked creatures indulging in another, which definitely pleased my voyeuristic side and took satisfaction from giving, rather than receiving for a change. Not that I don’t like to give. There’s nothing better than giving someone attention, it’s just that I always feel that I don’t get long enough to play sometimes. I start to get warmed up and the person I’m with gets carried away and wants to move on. So the opportunity of giving someone the freedom to be comfortable enough to just be told, ‘Look, this is all about you tonight, just enjoy’ was very satisfying.
In also terms of satisfaction, for me, it’s all about the feeling you get when you see someone completely ecstatic about the gift you have given them. I actually never once thought about having penetrative sex with either of them, despite being incredibly attracted to them both. It was just all about the atmosphere and the energy of the moment. It was a wonderful, intimate liaison with someone who felt nothing like a near stranger at all, just a dear wonderful, caring friend. As we left, Freya gave me a warm kiss on the lips and squeezed my hand as my Shakti sailed out of the front door and onto the suburban street on her little cloud.
We crossed the road and headed towards the pub for a stiff one for her. I already had mine, of course. We sat in the aforementioned legendary London punk venue which is now an overpriced sports bar with skinheads and wannabe WAGS and I sat back in my large leather chair and watched my friend in front of me, still excited and aroused. She threw her arms all around as she spoke and recounted the entire past few hours, like she was still in some sort of trance. She urged herself to come down, to stop the heightened giggles and float down from the higher plain she’d achieved. But she didn’t want to.
“I’m going back. I’m going back next week.”
I laughed, but I knew she was being serious. Personally, I think I gained a lot from the night and that it‘s something I could learn a lot more about, I got to spend time with my more spiritual side (something that I don’t get the chance to do at all), I got to see my friend begin a journey on a path that I think she and her problems would benefit from (even the advanced techniques of yoni massage she wasn’t comfortable with on the night, ie penetration) to the point where I felt such a privilege that I got to take part in her experience. I felt that I learned so much, both about myself and my emotions and sensual side but also came away with a new skill that I could use with future lovers. And that I did.
My girlfriend was very intrigued about my new talent and booked herself straight in for a session with me and when my Facebook status revealed what I had been doing that evening, compared to my friends banalities of what they had for their tea and how long they spent at the gym, their curiosity also got the better of them. As a few of them have already found out, I’m the sort of guy that’s happy to share his knowledge.
To book a session at The London Tantric Temple, call 077 8430 9637 or visit www.tantricmassagelondon.net and I can certainly recommend one Goddess Freya.
