By Kim Couples

Copyright 2003

Luke had meant to be better organised this time, but it was already Saturday morning. The gallery was bound to be busy with locals as well as tourists. It was the kind of exhibition that would attract people who’d never been to an art gallery before, but found an urgent need to take up art criticism. And there’d been so much controversy in the papers and on the radio. Television had obviously decided it was far too sensitive.

But he was early enough not feel crowded and was able to work his way around the sculptures and paintings taking the notes he’d need for the assignment. Tantric art was not his thing – not that he didn’t find the subject interesting, even titillating; it was more that he knew so little about it. The cards were helpful but he knew he’d need several hours in the library to even begin to ‘compare and contrast the artistic expression of Tantric sexuality with attitudes in contemporary English society’. Perhaps he was the only one; perhaps all his classmates had chosen the other two options. He was beginning to regret his choice.

The regret vanished in a second. It was the second that he turned and discovered that Julia had also chosen the Tantric option.

He knew her well enough to say hello. They had what his uncle used to call a ‘nodding acquaintance’. He’d seen her in lectures and they’d caught each other’s eyes regularly. It wasn’t difficult; Art in a Cultural Perspective was not an especially popular paper. They’d even been in the same tutorial once. It was a tenuous relationship, but pleasantly flirtatious.

‘Why did you choose this one?’ he asked.

‘It’s an interesting topic.’

‘Yeah, but I’ve been realising that it’s probably the hardest and there’s a lot riding on it.’

‘It’s a lot easier than the post-modern thing. How much do you know about Tantric practices?’

‘Not a lot. I saw a documentary once,’ he added, still recovering from the surprise of seeing her there and hoping his breathing would settle. They were standing next to the largest sculpture, the most controversial; the one the local paper only showed in cropped form. She stood back admiring the naked stone bodies – joined in the lotus position, their lips almost touching.

‘It’s Riding the Wave of Bliss,’ she said, as he peered at the card for the third time.

‘What is?’

‘The position. Tantric lovers often stay like that for hours and synchronise their breathing.

‘Oh. Right.’ It’s all he could say, but he was desperate not to let the conversation end and as she smiled at him he added, ‘Can you explain the others to me?’

So she took him, apparently very willingly, through to the exhibits and explained the significance of the various positions and their strange names. ‘That’s The Erotic Shakti position – woman on top, that’s Shooting to the Crown – I think.. Notice the partnership.’ She breezed past a final exhibit, ‘Riding the Tiger – the lovers use it to draw sexual energy up through their bodies – partly breathing, partly squeezing of muscles.’ He was impressed by her knowledge, but what really mattered was that Julia, of all people in the class, was the one willing to talk about it so openly.

He suggested coffee at the cafeteria. After all, they had to think through ways of comparing and contrasting attitudes to sexuality. It wasn’t a topic he’d ever discussed with a woman before.

‘How come you know so much about it?’ It was his opening line, once he’d slid the tray with the muffins, his coffee and her iced water on to the little wooden table.

‘Just an interest.’ She smiled.

‘And you don’t mind sharing, I mean officially, I suppose, we’re competing.’

‘No. Partly because, I don’t have the answers. I just know a little bit about Tantra. We can brainstorm the rest and draw our own conclusions. We’ll still end up with different assignments. We’re not even likely to agree.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Just different perspectives, different experiences and being male and female, that sort of thing.’ She sipped her water and as she did, he noticed the shine of her hair, the way her rimless glasses complimented her face and way the edge of her mouth had the barest hint of smile lines. Her fingers were long and delicate, and there was that quiet confidence about her that had appealed to him since the tutorial.

‘So how do the attitudes that go with Tantric sex differ, if at all, from…you know…contemporary English attitudes?’

‘Have you noticed any differences from what you’ve seen already?’

‘Well, I suppose it is different…like really different positions and the partners are both really into it…’

‘Isn’t that a big difference? It’s very equal. We’ve seen lovers giving and receiving pleasure and it’s about working together - the partnership thing - to build and release waves of energy.’

‘So like, really loving?’

‘Not necessarily. It’s a way of expressing love, but the couples might be expressing affection. They’re still giving and receiving as true partners.’ She was simply telling him and there was nothing patronising about her tone. That would have annoyed him. Naturally, possibilities were forming in his mind.

‘Yup, the doco I saw, had an old guy, he must have been 70 or something, with a Swedish woman, maybe late 20s. They weren’t lovers but they would spend all day doing it – the Tantric thing – with breaks. They’d take a bike ride or go for a walk.’

‘I didn’t see it, but I imagine that they might have had an orgasm together perhaps once that day – maybe not at all.’

He glanced around, feeling just slightly uncomfortable at the mention of orgasms in such a public place. ‘They said the old guy only had one once a month. So you’re suggesting that as a difference?’ Her eyes were sparkling in the reflected light from the window behind him.

‘Well, it is, isn’t it? I’m not commenting about you of course.’ She touched his arm for the first time, and there was a playfulness in her conversation. ‘You might be the perfect lover, but sex in this country is still about performance and the goal of orgasm. It’s male-oriented too. Men, on the whole, issue the invitations, and it’s more about his pleasure than hers. And I am speaking generally here.’

‘Oh, that’s changed or changing now surely. And anyway how do we provide evidence for that?’

She laughed. ‘We’d have to do a survey or recount our personal experiences or something.’

He was tempted to ask, ‘Is that your personal experience?’ but the rapport was too delightful to risk it.

‘Anyway’, she said, ‘we can easily show that sex is still seen as unseemly. Just look at all the fuss in the papers about couples enjoying each other’s bodies. Tantrics see sex in a much more healthy way…You look surprised.’

‘Only that someone with your establishment accent should be so….’

‘Contemptuous of the establishment?’

‘I was going to say open-minded.’

‘That’s me,’ she grinned. ‘My mother used to wonder why they bothered sending me to a private school, but I think it helped me sort out what’s really important. They never approved of me at school - far too independent and they didn’t enjoy being told how often they confused convention with morality. I think that’s a big issue in our assignment.’

As they walked to collect her bicycle, he noticed that she didn’t dress like the other rebels in the art and culture class. She wore only a hint of make up, had no coloured streaks in her hair and the body piercing that was so popular would have seemed bizarre on Julia. She wore a floral blouse or the standard sweatshirt with blue jeans almost every day.

‘What are you going to do with your degree?’

‘Oh, I’m an import really. I’m majoring in education. It’s just that I like art and they’re letting me do the paper as a bit of a filler. My prof arranged it. He wants to encourage me to round myself out a bit – what he means is catch up with the ones from Harrow and Eton. What do you want to do with yours?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve got some ideas, but nothing firm. I just think knowing about art and especially about culture makes you a better person.’

He spent the rest of the weekend thinking about her. He woke early on Sunday morning and lay there for more than an hour reviewing their conversation, recalling her voice, her eyes, the first touch of her hand on his arm, the firm breasts beneath the blouse when she leaned back to check the time. Why had he made so little effort to talk to Julia before?

They began to sit together in lectures and he contrived to be in her tutorial again. They met for lunch on a couple of occasions, but within a few minutes were joined by friends because obviously nobody saw them as a couple. On Wednesday of the following week, he sent her some joke email and she sent one back with two smiley faces and a bland quote about friendship.

Friday was the day they had planned to meet in the library and on Thursday he suddenly realised that James was going to sleep with his girlfriend at her apartment on Friday night. He set the alarm for six am but was up before it went off. In the next two hours he vacuumed the dining room, piled even James’ clothes away in what passed for a laundry, did the dishes so that he could even see the bench, put new sheets on his bed and candles in the two brass holders his mother had given him in apparent innocence.

She was in the library before he was and didn’t try to pretend that his arrival was incidental to her afternoon. He used to back out of relationships where women played hard to get. He hated the charade. She was so different, so open and welcoming.

‘I’ve found some useful references. Have you got anything?’

‘Yes, I came in yesterday.’

They talked through some new ideas, but just enough to suggest a line of enquiry. There was still a distance between them on academic matters.

He chose his moment. ‘You know how men are supposed to issue the invitations?’

‘I didn’t say they are supposed to. I just said they do.’

‘Okay, well, you haven’t, so I am.’ He’d planned the ambiguity about the nature of the invitation.

‘To what?’

‘I could do a first class take-away tandoori – at my apartment - tonight.’

‘Oh.’

‘Tonight no good?’

‘No sorry. My husband’s family is coming around tonight…’

‘I didn’t know…’

‘I’m married?’

‘You don’t wear a ring. You didn’t say.’

‘We’re friends aren’t we? Married women have friends.’ She was very matter-of-fact about it but he couldn’t help himself; he was embarrassed. He interpreted her smile as, ‘It’s okay to want me like that’. She touched his arm again and looked around as if she wanted to say something to console him, but the library was filling fast and she seemed to think better of it.

His stomach had fallen away. ‘Being friends is okay,’ he murmured. ‘That’s fine.’ She looked down at her book, turned the page to avoid a particularly vivid painting of Tantric lovers and returned with a smile.

‘Why not come to our place for lunch tomorrow. You can meet Alan. I’ve told him all about you. You’ll like him.’ Then she added with a trace of smile. ‘I do.’

He was tempted to apologise for misreading things and go. He also felt a little annoyed, misled, but then, all she’d ever done was touch his arm, talk frankly about sex and be absolutely charming. It was a friendship he valued.

Her apartment was not far from his, so on Saturday morning, he walked there with his thoughts on other things. He had no great expectations and he was adjusting to the idea of a married friend called Julia – the kind of friend you could discuss anything with, even sex.

Alan seemed delighted to see him. He was a few years older than Julia and more athletic than Luke but didn’t try to establish his superior position with a crushing handshake. Just a firm clasp, followed by a friendly wave inside.

They’d cooked a vegetarian lunch together and cooking was obviously something they both enjoyed, but the conversation was a little stilted. None of them was as relaxed as Luke had hoped, but Julia’s laughter and warmth kept it going well enough. When they’d finished their meal, Julia produced some sparkling wine and even the first glass seemed to help.

Alan, it turned out, was a newly independent landscape designer with an office upstairs and a growing list of private and commercial clients. He was someone Luke might have chosen as a friend to visit occasionally. But Luke had to accept it: he was constantly distracted by Julia. While Alan was talking, his eyes would wander to take in her bare shoulders and glance fleetingly at her breasts beneath the tight-fitting cotton dress. She turned the way she had in the art gallery cafeteria and he became almost convinced that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Had they been alone, he might even have asked her, and what being braless said about her attitude to womanhood and sexuality. But not, of course, with Alan there.

In the silence that followed Alan’s account of their trip to Pakistan in 1998, Julia turned to Luke.

‘Did you bring a condom?’

‘No!’ He was suddenly short of breath.

‘Don’t worry.’ Just kidding. We’ve got some here.’

His eyes shot to Alan and back to Julia. ‘It’s okay. We’ve talked about it. If you want to, we can have sex together this afternoon.’

He was stunned. Her husband was right next to him. ‘Just one thing. It has to be the three of us. But don’t worry Alan’s straight, aren’t you dear?’ He nodded with a smile. ‘Yes very straight.’

Julia hadn’t taken her eyes off Luke. ‘What do you think?’ She actually sounded nervous.

They both seemed keen. It was a shock, but far too arousing to turn down. ‘I’d be honoured.’

‘Good. I’ve got a few things to get ready, so you two have another glass of wine.’ As she left, she put her arm around his shoulders and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Weren’t expecting that were you?’

‘No.’

He’d thought the conversation with Alan would be excruciatingly painful, but it wasn’t. They carried their wine glasses up the steep, carpeted stairs to his office and he showed what landscape architects do with computer design these days.

‘Just relax,’ he said. ‘We’ve done this threesome thing a few times so we can ease you into it. It can be a lot of fun.’

‘Why do you do it?’ It was all he could think of.

‘It’s a bit unusual I guess, but we like to see ourselves as free thinkers. We have no moral objections at all, as long as it’s safe in every sense – including safe for our relationship, so we never do anything behind each other’s backs.’

‘Julia mentioned an interest in Tantra…’

‘Oh yes. We’re certainly into that. That’s the way we love. We’re having one of our lovemaking days today – on and off throughout the day. You might want to be more conventional…But would you like some advice – from someone who loves Julia?’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ll try to be tactful here. She’s very sensual. She enjoys all her senses. Take your time, and pleasure her slowly. If you like, we can do it together with massage and all the other things most women enjoy.’

He realised what a strange conversation this was. He was excited; hard too, and he was determined to keep this intimate insight going.

‘If you don’t mind my asking, what do you get out of threesomes?’

‘Well up till now I’ve brought women friends home. That’s been fun for Julia too but it’s her turn to choose a friend. It’s only fair I suppose, but I’ve always had that male fantasy thing about seeing my wife with another man. Doesn’t make any sense really - except the pleasure of seeing her enjoy her sexuality, I suppose.’

He could hear Julia coming up the stairs. She eased both arms around Luke from behind and caressed his chest. ‘Alan and I have had a lot of sex together this morning, so we’ve showered, but I’d love to have another with you when you’re ready.’

‘I’m ready now.’

She led him into a bathroom that made him pleased she hadn’t accepted his invitation to his own apartment. Everything was in pure white tiles and the shower enormous. They left the bathroom door open. She turned the water on and then faced him. ‘This is a nice sexy bit,’ she smiled, undoing his shirt, then his belt. She slipped his jeans down then stretched the elastic of his underwear over his shaft. ‘Lovely.’ And she held it, grinning up to him. ‘Feeling okay then?’

He undid her dress and peeled it over her head, anxious to reveal her. She was wearing nothing underneath and her breasts were as firm and pink as he’d imagined.

They embraced under the shower and he began to soap her, until he realised how unnecessary it was. ‘You’re not worn out yet?’

‘From a morning of sex? No we did it Tantric style. It’s all very slow and peaceful. I haven’t had an orgasm yet. I was saving that to have with you. Alan hasn’t either.’

‘How do you stand it; getting so close then just stopping?’

‘We don’t have to stop and we can always come back to it later. We quite often do, like the woman and old man in that documentary you saw. You build up close to your peak and then if you decide to stop, all that energy gets diffused throughout your body. I tingle all over and feel all sexy and loving for hours and go around hugging people – especially Alan. It’s wonderful.’

‘What about this afternoon?’

‘Sex as it comes will be fine. We don’t do Tantric all the time – even on lovemaking days. Sometimes we just have quickies, the same as everyone else, and we do different things.’

‘Like threesomes.’

‘And other stuff…’ He turned for her to massage his back with her long soapy fingers. ‘Alan and I have been really turned on just thinking about the possibility of you joining us. I’ve been totally distracted all week.’

He glanced back.

‘Oops that was a give-away wasn’t it? We’ve had this possibility in mind for a while.’

‘I hope I can give you what you want.’

She had dried herself and stood there towelling his back. ‘Now you’re treating it like a performance.’

She took his hand and led him into the room she and Alan had set up for their pleasure. It was about twice the size of the other rooms he’d seen. On the far side was a large bay window with no curtains. Fig plants, lilies and palms took away any sense that it was a room with corners. Outside, a high wall, and thick planting of ferns and other leafy plants he didn’t recognise, seemed to ensure their privacy. A clear panel in the roof brought a shaft of light onto the thick white mat and a low bed in the centre. He’d expected the sheets to reveal their morning of passion but she’d obviously replaced them. The room reminded him of a grassy clearing in a sunlit forest.

‘Tantrics refer to this as their ‘sacred space’.

‘I could feel like an intruder.’ They were both naked and he was rather pleased with his erection.

‘Don’t, you’re a very welcome guest.’ She put her arm around him and squeezed and he was just about to draw her to him when she said, ‘I’ll just let Alan know we’re here.’ He felt a jolt through his whole body. He heard her in the hall calling and it was obviously meant for him to hear. ‘Hi, darling we’re ready and Luke’s really hard.’ She came back. ‘He’s just organising some champagne. Let me put a condom on you.’

His heart was pounding as he lay on the bed and she opened the packet, squeezed the teat and rolled it over him. ‘This is just so exciting,’ she said, holding him and fondling his mushroom tip. ‘I was just over the moon when you said yes. You took to the idea very easily.’

‘It wasn’t what I had in mind yesterday,’ he said, between slight gasps. ‘That’s great by the way... But I’m really into it now…You do realise that you have absolutely beautiful breasts don’t you?’

She laughed. ‘Alan loves them. Can’t keep his hands off them – it’s all very loving and sexy.’ She looked down, enjoying her task of stimulating him. ‘I felt really flattered to discover you were so hard. Makes me feel really special…Want a cuddle?’

He was on the bed, cupping her breast from behind, kissing her back and neck, when Alan came in with a tray, glasses and an unopened bottle. Luke looked up, realising that he felt not the slightest pang of guilt and was only concerned that Alan might want to open the champagne now. He didn’t. Nor did Julia. She simply rolled over, returned Alan’s kiss, and they began an event Luke would remember for the rest of his life.

His pulse began to settle. It was Julia’s serenity, her love of touch and Alan’s influence that did it. He’d always thought of himself as a considerate lover but in reality had rarely spent more than a few minutes pleasuring a woman. This was different. He massaged her face and neck, while Alan worked expertly on the soles of her feet and Julia sighed with contentment. They played her soft and favourite music, kissed her lips and neck and massaged her breasts, her belly, her back, her arms, her thighs and her buttocks. It was as if they had all the time they could ever want, simply to adore her with their hands and lips. They hardly spoke but her delight was obvious. Eventually, while Alan was gently brushing her erect nipples with his fingers, Luke ventured towards the centre of her pleasure. As he bent down to kiss her curls, then her lips, she parted her legs and murmured, ‘Yes!’ His tongue brought little gasps and he was thrilled to be exciting her so much.

Luke did have one experience he could draw on, but it brought a sensation he’d never known before. He was able to slip a finger into her easily and she grabbed his arm in a way that said ‘yes please’ as eloquently as words. His tongue too, continued its work till she slipped her hand down to take over from it. He sat up and began to stroke her inside, along the bulge at the top, across, almost out and back again – all the while looking into her eyes. Her husband was almost as entranced as she was and hard. More stroking. She began to writhe with pleasure and he could feel her open up – drawing his finger into her. He kept up the gentle strokes, exhilarated by her panting and the way she half-closed her eyes. He could sense her coming and she arched her back, peaked almost silently, then seconds later gasped for breath - and for the first time he could actually feel a woman’s ecstasy. The spasms must have gone on for a minute. You can imagine what it did for his confidence as a lover.

She took her time to recover and brought each of them down to her breasts. ‘Thanks, that was wonderful.’

Alan opened the champagne. They sat on the bed and sipped it in celebration, then Julia announced that it was time that both her men received their particular pleasure. ‘He’s been looking forward to seeing us together,’ she said to Luke. ‘Ready?’

She lay back, and with admirable restraint, he slowly positioned himself as Alan caressed her forehead, neck and nipples. He was watching, staring - Luke could tell, as he caught Julia’s gaze and waited at her entrance, his skin alive, his heart racing. He was aching. Perhaps the condom would burst. She put both her hands down to part her lips. He eased in just a little and Alan was transfixed where their bodies were joined; raising his head subtly to see even better. Luke pushed all the way in and felt the soft pressure of her lips against the base of his shaft. He began to stroke and she beamed back at him. ‘Ooh lovely and hard.’ He began to worry that he might come in a rush and was determined to slow down, to give her pleasure, even if he couldn’t do it in the way she was used to.

Suddenly, Alan stood and blurted out, ‘Oh that’s a turn-on.’

‘Do you want to stroke yourself and put on a show for me?’ She was turning to him, looking concerned.

‘No, I’ll hold back. It’ll be all the better later.’

Luke didn’t know what to say so he just kept stroking, pushing in hard and withdrawing all the way – sometimes even out of her, while her husband stared.’ Julia just smiled, all the time.

‘Can you come like this?’ asked Luke.

‘Sure. I’ll use my finger and when you are ready, we can work up to it together if you like.’

And that’s what they did.

He was exhausted, totally spent at the end, but though he’d shared a bed with several women in his young life and felt a bond with all of them, this one afternoon brought out an intense affection he’d never experienced before. His couplings with other women had been - he would have to admit it now - one-sided. They lay together, while Alan rubbed her back and kissed her neck.

To his surprise, they invited him for dinner. Once again the two of them cooked it together but let Luke cut vegetables and prepare the table. The conversation was lively, and never ventured into sex or Tantra, or the assignment. It was as if they’d been together for years. Julia hugged them both regularly. Around eight, they sat to watch an episode of Blackadder – a comedy they’d all agreed was hilarious. Half way through, he sensed that it was time to leave them to whatever lay ahead in their day of lovemaking. As the video was rewinding, Alan left the room saying, only to Julia, ‘I’ll get the space ready.’

Luke was occupied with conflicting thoughts of making a courteous departure and a desire to see Julia naked again, perhaps for one last time. She ‘d obviously noticed his silence.

‘You’ve been super partner,’ she said.

‘Thanks, I’ve enjoyed it. Loved every minute.’ He squeezed her arm.

‘We’ve been talking,’ she said. ‘If you want, you can stay for a little while and see what Tantric lovers do. If you really want to.’

He nodded.

‘Just for a little while. We’ll be in our own world, so just sit on the armchair and don’t talk to us or try to join in. It’s our time, but you might find it interesting and we’re comfortable with you now. Okay?’

He was ushered into the room while Julia and Alan showered again and he could hear Julia’s squeals of delight. He wondered again how Alan could possibly hold on for so long.

The shaft of sunlight had been replaced by soft spotlights that lit up the soft rug and leather footstools they’d placed on it. His armchair was well into the shadows.

The lovers came in wearing Japanese style robes. He’d expected them to ignore him but Julia bent down so that her breast touched his arm, kissed him on the cheek and said, ‘Thanks for today.’ Alan even patted him on the back. ‘Thanks for coming. It was great.’

Then they ignored him.

They left the circle of light and he saw them next by the light of two tapered candles. They held them up in a ceremonial way, used them both to light another candle beneath one of those ceramic crucibles for heating scented oil. He could see rose petals scattered around the crucible as they blew out the original candles.

They positioned themselves on the mat about 10 feet apart, paused for several seconds then slowly removed their robes and stood naked. The smiles were restrained, almost shy, or was it respectful? It was not, he thought, the restraint you’d expect from married lovers well used to regular sex together. They approached each other and stood with their hands clasped in the Eastern way, touched foreheads and looked into each other’s eyes. They were murmuring something and he caught the odd phrase.

‘I dedicate…

‘…our love and life together…

‘…enjoy our bodies…’

He noticed the sitar music as they sat facing each other, lotus style. He could see the tranquillity on Julia’s face as her lover slipped his hand over the delicate folds Luke had explored in what now seemed some other galaxy. Over the next few minutes Alan used his other hand to gently touch her belly, her heart, her neck, her forehead and the top of her head – always with his left hand on her folds - while they gazed into each other’s eyes. She held him in the same way and repeated what was truly a loving gesture.

He felt the need to go and a stronger need to stay. He was curious, and he was captivated by the beauty of their gentleness as they simply looked into each other’s eyes exchanging endearments he could barely hear. He felt admiration for them both. Julia looked the essence of womanhood. The light touched her soft skin and her smile; cascaded over her delicate shoulders and her breasts. The glow in her face showed beyond doubt that the woman he’d known so briefly as a lover was a woman deeply in love with her husband.

He decided he would leave once he’d seen them joined – what had, till now, always seemed the only true intimacy between a man and a woman.

When they did join their bodies, it was in the position the sculptor had chosen for his lovers – the Infinite Wave of Bliss. She slid with practised ease onto his lap, guided him into her, clasped her legs around him and their arms held them together so that her breasts brushed his chest and their lips were touching playfully. Luke was comforted by the memory that he had been inside her too. He had felt the warmth and the pressure of her around him. He had given her pleasure and enjoyed the reward of spurting deep inside her. Yet, seeing them now, such conventional pleasuring seemed almost trivial. Even their breaths were in harmony.

He rose slowly, closed the door silently behind him and walked home in the dark. Alone.