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Dear readers, thank you for the comments on the first part of my story or Edward and Renate. I reaffirm that this is a work of fiction, albeit with a strong basis in real experience to whose essence I have tried to remain faithful. For that reason the narrative perhaps leaves a slightly different taste to most stories on Literotica. If there are apparent mismatches or unevenness, it is perhaps because that is true of real people and real experiences.
The sequel divides naturally into three limked parts, which I refer to as chapters 2, 3, 4.
All characters are demonstrably over eighteen.
Chapter 2: Return visits
I was tempted to book a massage again next week, but I felt it was too soon. I thought it would seem like I was too stricken with her, I mean it would seem like that to Renate. But if I was honest I’d say it would seem that way to me. In any case I resolved to exercise some restraint and, besides, I couldn’t afford a two hour session every week.
I let a month go by which I thought was sufficient to reflect a sense of proportion and called the institute again. Before I booked I asked if Renate was scheduled to be there. I was slightly disappointed with the reply.
“Yes, she is with us on Saturday and Sunday, but we do not normally offer our clients the choice. But I am sure you will receive a wonderful tantric experience from whoever gives, so I hope you will come and enjoy the special wonders of tantra.”
I was uncertain about that, but up till now I had seen someone different each time and had loved it. Part of the pleasure was because the different personalities and styles invariably brought something a little bit new. As it was Renate was apparently assigned to see someone else and my massage was by attractive blonde with lovely cornflower blue eyes and, as I soon learned, a lovely figure and sensitive, knowing hands. Although younger she was very accomplished and uninhibited about where and how she touched me. My senses were on a high the whole time. In other circumstances it would have been heavenly, but I missed the soul-soul sharing that Renate brought. And I missed Renate as well …..
I resolved next time to arrange to see Renate, or not visit at all. Again I waited quite some time but when I phoned I was told next week she would be there each day and I asked specifically to see her. I sensed some resistance from the person I spoke to but she agreed. However, when I arrived the lady who greeted me, someone older who I suspected was in a senior position at the institute, told me that she herself would be my tantrica. She was tall and large-bosomed with dark wavy hair, a sensuous mouth and a mischievous look in her brown eyes. She was certainly attractive in an earthy, in fact a sexy sort of way. But she wasn’t who I wanted to see.
“Then I don’t understand. Please don’t take this personally, I find you extremely attractive but I thought it was arranged I would see Renate,” I replied.
The lady looked at me as if disappointed but obviously accepted my wish.
“I’m sorry, let me check then,” and with that she excused herself and went back down the corridor.
They must have spoken, as few moments later Renate emerged from the room. She was smiling broadly and held out her hands.
“Edward,” she beamed, “how lovely to see you again! How have you been all these weeks?”
“Good, except I’ve been missing you. I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again. But was there some problem with who would see me?”
“Not really, don’t worry about it.”
She took my hand to lead me to our massage room, and once inside she held out her arms and we hugged warmly, pressing against each other, and kissing.
The massage followed the same general course as the first one, but there were differences. Renate made some variations on how she sat and how she touched me, showing me something slightly new. At times she pressed her body against my chest, letting her breasts stroke me and her nipples trail across my skin as she reached across me. She occasionally positioned herself in such a way that my hands would naturally rest on her, as if inviting me to touch her — her arms, her legs, her buttocks, her breasts. This all meant I was kept on a continual high of arousal. As before however, there was no question of touching her anywhere really intimately. Much as I dreamt about caressing here labia and the soft damp furrow between them, exciting myself with thoughts of how to arouse and pleasure her, I knew I was there to receive rather than give. Her gentleness and trust were as strong a barrier as any physical restraint.
* * * * * * * * * *
I saw Renate at the institute a few more times and each time I our confidence in each other had grown. Perhaps the most noticeable change from the first time was that we were coming to know something about each other, physically, emotionally and spiritually, and the pathways of body to body, soul to soul communication were becoming wider and richer for it.
It was during this canlı bahis şirketleri phase of our developing relationship that I took the liberty of wearing underneath my lunghi a pair of ladies’ white panties at the start of each session. The contact with the smooth light material and the gentle rubbing was something I always found to be arousing, indeed such a garment was a regular item during my solo masturbatory fantasies in bed. Only I was now fantasising about being with a real person, Renate.
Taking matters further, I ventured to ask if she would be willing to indulge me with some of my own fantasy wishes and fetishes. In any other situation, with any other person, I would feel embarrassed, even ashamed to speak of them, but such was her empathy I was neither ashamed nor fearful of her reaction. Indeed a part of me wanted to lay bare to her my most private wishes, especially ones I would be ashamed to acknowledge to anyone else. I knew that she would have limits about what she could do, and expected my requests would be outside them, but I was certain that whatever her reaction it would be sympathetic.
One of wishes arose, at least partly from the fairly common condition that afflicts men as they get older, needing to empty their bladder rather frequently. I told her I felt it was a shame to have to interrupt the magic of our tantra by my needing to visit the bathroom. This tends to occur naturally during in the course of any massage session, since it stimulates the kidneys and thus causing the bladder to fill — something I was beginning to feel quite acutely. I wasn’t sure of her reaction when I came out with the question,
“Would you mind if I stay here and do my pipi into a container? I brought one with me in my bag just there at the side.” The thought or her remaining with me was exciting, and I nervously continued, “Renate, I’d be greatly honoured and very happy if you watched me. Would you be willing to do that?”
It was something of a happy surprise to me, when she answered,
“Oh Edward, my dear friend, yes I’d be entirely happy to watch you. Would you like to do that now?”
I thanked her very sincerely and told her I did need to do pipi now. I wasn’t sure how to arrange myself, but Renate went over and took the plastic container from my bag and brought it to me to hold it in place for me to fill. She then helped me to my knees and she took my free hand in hers.
But after all that asking, I found that when I tried to relax I was unexpectedly inhibited. Despite my fullness, the flow would not begin. I began to get agitated, feeling stupid and embarrassed. I didn’t know what to say. But Renate stayed calm and spoke softly to me.
“Don’t worry, Edward, it’s all right. Just relax.”
After a few moments of stalemate, “Edward, look into my eyes and I’ll look into yours. Make the bond with me. Feel safe, feel loved.”
She gently placed a hand on my breast and traced a fingertip around and across my nipples. The touch, her soothing words and the eye-contact released me from the stricture that was binding me, and I felt an inner unburdening. The first few drops fell, then a trickle which quickly grew into a stream. It continued for several moments to fill the container above half-way, and I thanked whatever foresight had made me choose one of sufficient capacity. All the time we were looking empathically into each other’s eyes, happy and secure in our spiritual cocoon. I felt bathed in a massive tide of empathy that emanated from her.
Relieved of my baggage, liquid and emotional, I felt hugely comfortable and supremely happy to be ministered to in such a wonderful way.
“Thank you Renate, for such a beautiful gift.”
The tantra continued after that as previously, but I sensed a stronger connection between us and I wondered if Renate felt the same.
At the end of the tantra session Renate spoke seriously.
“Edward, I have to tell you that what we did when you made pipi is definitely against the house rules. I’ve never done that with anyone before, so please understand that we cannot make it a habit.”
It took me a few moments to take this in, and the worrying thought dawned that I would not be able to visit her again. However, before I could reply she made a very generous and wonderful offer.
I do not normally do this but I have come to regard you as a special friend. I’d like to invite you to visit me at my own home instead of at the Institute. I’ve been thinking it would be more personal and give us more time and greater freedom to explore the world of tantra in all its fullness, and to try other things as well. Would you like that?”
I was so surprised I had to replay her words in my head to make sure I heard correctly. Her offer caught me off-balance which must have been obvious from my slow-witted reaction. There was a wickedly mischievous smile on her face, and I think it was not only for that reason.
I was still mentally off balance when I replied. “Yes Renate, I hardly know what to canlı kaçak iddaa say. Anyway, thank you, thank you so very much. That would be wonderful, a dream I never dared to dream. Yes, I’d love that.”
And then we saw it was time for me to leave. As we hugged out farewells we exchanged contact details and made a promise for my first visit to her home.
Chapter 3: Renate’s home
As it happened, several weeks went by before I made my first visit to Renate’s home. I’d spent some time away in England, and after I returned she was taking some holiday. By then we had come to know a little more about each other, the relaxed time after the tantric sessions had been spent exchanging bits of our life stories, our activities, our interests and values, but neither of us had previously shared much that was very personal about our lives. We would now no longer be constrained by the institute’s schedule and conventions, and have time and greater freedom to expand our tantric horizons share more of ourselves.
The first time I visited her apartment I brought some cakes for us to share, and to mark the occasion a bouquet of roses which she arranged in a vase on the table. I was very touched when she gave me a gift from her recent holiday in Sri Lanka, a lovely batik printed lunghi in soft cotton. I told her I absolutely had to use it in all our tantras, and I was delighted to see how happy she was.
Tantra at Renate’s place promised to be wonderfully relaxed. She has set aside a small room specifically for massage, arranged it with small ornaments, and put up a wall hanging to create a warm and personal character. In the middle was a mattress with dimensions of a standard double bed with a blanket, an old-fashioned bedspread and a large soft towel over it. The warm ambience was accentuated by the colour scheme, dominated by dark crimson. I later realised that immediately on top of the mattress was an electric blanket as well to make sure her naked guest was comfortable warm. In some way it was how imagined it to be in a shrine. I expressed surprise that this lavish setting was especially for me, and she explained that she saw a few regular clients for physio massage or counselling. Then with a smile she added, “But you are the only person I see here for tantra.”
I felt very privileged and a little bit embarrassed that she considered me to be “special”, and said so. At the same time I understood that she had gone to considerable pains with all this was something, and told her I was duty bound to behave myself and treat this place with due honour.
“Oh Edward, you do not need to make any special effort. I hope you will be exactly as you always are!”
I didn’t know what best to say, so all I could do was smile and gently hold her hands.
At the beginning of the session she told me I should relax as there was plenty of time, and so it proved. She spent longer in preparing my body’s responsiveness and building the sexual energy, while I was able to relax more about the pacing of our session and what I might ask for. One of the ways she ministered to me, not possible at the institute, was to have me sit on a stool and sip the herbal tea she prepared while she massaged my feet. I hadn’t previously experienced foot massage, and didn’t realise till then how refreshing and relaxing it could be. Very caringly she tool my feet one after the other and with her fingertips pushed along the lines of the sole, before working on my toes, the pads and the spaces in between them. I started to lose track of time as eyes would close, so I had to remind myself not to fall asleep and spill the tea onto my front. It was a wonderful part of her preparing me.
After that the tantric encounter would proceed as before, though with more time to linger at each step. Thus we would begin each wearing our lunghi and we would go into the verbal ritual, then she lovingly and slowly undressed me and as I asked she laid my lunghi out underneath me.
“I like to feel it next to me,” I told her.
At first she seemed slightly concerned and asked, “You don’t mind if it gets messed up?”
I knew that in the course the massage and her internal explorations, it would become soiled with a mixture of oil, sweat and traces of other fluids. I told her, “Please Renate, when I get home I’ll take it to bed with me and I want to be able to relive our time together in my dreams. I want it to be damp and carry the scent from our sharing, so as to remind me of you while I stroke my lingam to orgasm and anoint it again.” I was tempted to add that I will imagine that she is in bed with me and that we are making love.
I wasn’t sure what she would think and was delightfully reassured by her next words, “Ah Edward, how wonderful. That makes me very happy that my tantra means so much to you and that you to enjoy a reminder of it afterwards.”
As always the massage was personal and intimate, the loving strokes from her hands exploring every part of my body. There was something she started doing now, something canlı kaçak bahis I asked for now there was more time and less convention to observe, though I hadn’t been sure if she would agree.
“I don’t normally do this, but I will for you if you’re sure it’s what you want.”
“Please.”
I was lying on my back, blindfolded and naked. I was completely vulnerable yet wishing for whatever she might going to do. My lingam was erect in excitement and anticipation. Her hands had been making those delightfully long and flowing strokes from my feet, gently along my calves and thighs, lingering for a moment at the apex to caress softly my genitals, then continuing over my abdomen to my chest, pausing their travel to circle my nipples, then teasing the points to mini-erectness. Involuntarily I whimpered.
“Mmmm, that’s lovely. Mmmmmm………”
I whispered
“Yes Renate, please do it …..”
“Aaaaarrrgghhhhh!”
My breath rushed out of me as I gasped in response to the shock as she forcefully pinched them both at the same time and then kept the pressure. The force was not particularly great and the pain itself was really quite minor, but her loving caresses right before had caused me to let down all my inner defences. The sudden change in physical sensation amplified my subjective feeling.
“Mmmfffff ……”
“Edward, is that all right? Doesn’t it hurt?
There was concern in her voice, almost panic.
“Yeesss!! Ah, it’s wonderful ….. Yes, thank you, Renate. I love it. Thank you, I so much wanted that.”
She then looked down and a mischievous smile crept over her face. “Well, when I look at your lingam it certainly seems to agree. I think it’s time to give it some attention.”
“I agree, shall I apologise for how I will behave in the throes of passion?”
“Oh Edward, you’ll have nothing to apologise for. So let me build the energy inside you ready for its release.”
Renate took up position in the arrangement as often before, facing me and arranged with her legs spread under my bent knees. That way she afforded me a lovely front view of her body while my chest and abdomen, right down to my lingam and anus were perfectly accessible to her touch.
With one hand she ringed the base with thumb and forefinger, while she stroked and raked by chest and belly with the other, letting her fingers glide down and graze against the tip of my shaft. She continually modulated her strokes from strong and light, causing me to alternate between approaching crescendo and receding. Each approach stopped short but got closer to the point of no return from which the climax would be unstoppable. When I looked at her face, O saw her eyes closed in concentration and her mouth relaxed as if in a trance.
She had assured me that the sexual energy I felt was all being generated within myself, and she was merely allowing it to build in readiness for release. But I wondered if some energy was coming from her, as she was becoming covered with a sheen of perspiration. My view of her parted legs showed her yoni had started to reveal itself as I mischievously caught a glimpse of the dark entrance to her womanhood.
Her tempo started to increase and I heard little cooing sounds from her throat. It was easy to imagine she was experience the onset of her own orgasm, but it must have been wishful thinking. Whatever, I sensed the unstoppable escalation towards in my own animal passion and my breathing became faster and stronger. By now one hand was pumping my manhood with firm strokes while gradually easing a finger of her other hand through my sphincter.
Renate’s breathing was becoming louder and as I looked up again I saw her sweat running down her face, then realised mine was as well. I was only seconds away from orgasm and my hands took on a will of their own as I pinched my nipples hard, almost digging into the flesh. I must have involuntarily clamped tight my eyes as everything suddenly went black. I fell over the edge, my limbs became rigid and my hips bucked and thrusted. My lingam jumped and spurted my nectar to goodness knows where, and I heard my gasps and groans as if from a distance. Then, but perhaps only imagination as I could not have been fully sensible, answering I heard sounds of a higher pitch that bespoke of female orgasm. Could it really be true, that Renate’s libido had responded in sympathy with my own?
I couldn’t ask right then, I wasn’t at the moment capable of forming intelligible words, let alone construct coherent sentences. Renate seemed to be still engaged in regaining her breath, as she untangled her legs from mine. With an effort she came up alongside and lay nestled together and waited till we recovered.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It had become fairly normal to converse after our tantra, usually over tea and a light meal, when we would talk about our lives, our ideas and our personal lives. Renate had previously told me about her life growing up in the mountainous southern part of Bavaria, in a small town near the border with Austria. Her family still lived in the area, where she had a house which she shared with her husband, Klaus, and their grown up children. However, she and Klaus had for some years been based here in Cologne where they now both worked.
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