We lay loosely, legs intertwined, as Mora talked to me of making love. She had a way of instructing, of teaching without seeming to be a teacher, without implying that she was the fount of all knowledge and that I was an ignorant asshole who knew nothing. She made it seem as though she, too, was a participant, learning for the first time along with me.
"One of these days you'll reach Nirvana," she said.
"What do you mean?" As far as I knew, Nirvana was a perfected form of meditation where God and soul became one, or some such shit.
"I mean that as you continue to make love, and you begin to last longer and longer, you'll reach a state of being apart from the act of love, yet integrally tied to it, a kind of never-never land where you can feel yourself above yourself, looking down at yourself making love. The sensation becomes very pleasurable but constant, without all of the erotic peaks that make you want to ejaculate. It's a state of steady love, steady feeling, where reality temporarily departs.
"Do you think I could do that?"
She examined me as though I were an article of merchandise she might buy. "Yes, I think so. I've only known a couple of men who could do it, but I think you could. I mean, I think you have the capability."
"What happens when you reach Nirvana?"
"Well, it's sort of a pleasure above pleasure. It's deeper, soul satisfying, but very hard to explain."
"Can you experience Nirvana, too?"
"No, only a man can do that. As a woman, I have an advantage, because all I have to do is lie there. But when a man prods me to orgasm, there's no way I can back it down and still feel pleasure. I just have to go ahead and climax."
"How many men have you slept with?" I was curious, Also stupid. I felt her grip on me go cold.
"Enough," she said dryly, I could feel her conscious effort to put no emotion or inflection into the word.
As if forcing herself to forget about my dumb question, she began sucking me again and turned her body, indicating that I should suck her at the same time. We did the sixty-nine lying on our sides. It had been only about a half hour since I had shot, and I didn't think I was ready yet for more.
Mora thought differently. When she had sucked me about halfhard she said that she wanted me to put it into her again. I told her it wasn't hard enough, but she seemed to think that it was, so I didn't argue as she flipped over onto her back. She put her knees all the way back to her breasts, thus bringing her cunt, which was slippery from my licking, up almost on the same plane as her belly. She told me to stay on my knees between her legs and lean over her, but not too far. Then she took my semiturgid cock in her hand, bent slightly, and just stuffed the damn thing into her.
"Now," she breathed, "you can do whatever you want till you get hard, but keep it in all the way so it won't fall out, and bump my clit at the end of each pump."
I had never been in a woman when I didn't have a hard-on, and the feeling was unique. I pumped hard and furiously for a long time, hitting Mora's clit each time I pushed in. If she got any less sensation because I wasn't completely hard, she didn't show it. She pumped up against me, putting her legs over my shoulders so that I couldn't fall out of her. This was the most excited I had yet seen her, crying out, slapping the sheets with her hands, raking my back with her nails. When she came she lost control completely, and I got so excited by her orgasm that I got hard in her, which excited her still more and made her come longer and yet more violently. It was all I could do just to stay on her.
I bumped her gently until her breathing became normal again. The erection that her orgasm had caused me also went back down a bit, I still wasn't ready. I started again, moving into her slowly and bumping her clit at the end of each stroke, being careful to move with her and not against her. When she got passionate again, I got hard again. Remembering my earlier lesson, I pushed • myself up on her until my chin was over her head and my cock was pointing almost straight down. I pulled it out until just the tip was in her, and began short, rubbing strokes against her clit. She was so wet I felt like I was in a vat of warm, melted butter.
"Take your hand," she panted, "and slide it under my ass and up to feel my cunt, all around it. Put your finger on my asshole, not too hard. Feel around my cunt some more, now go into me all the way."
I shoved it in full, and as I did so I felt her hand slide between our bellies to her clitoris and begin working it like crazy.
"Now," she cried. "Now go fast, faster! Put your finger in my ass! Shove it in!"
I began to jackhammer, my pubic bone banging against her wildly moving hand, and reached around, feeling myself pound in and out of her, then down, where her dripping juice had soaked her anus. I pushed my index finger inside up to the first joint. Her mouth opened wide, sucking air, her eyeballs rolled back, and her hips began a sharp, uncontrolled jerking motion which felt so good that I knew I was going to unload, too.
"Oh, Christ!" she screamed. "Jesus! Ohhh, baby!"
She pulled my mouth down to hers and screamed her orgasms into it. She started moaning, "Ughughughugh" but it was broken, like a sheep bleating. She kept up the jerking motion, which literally pulled the juice out of me. I gave her the long, hard orgasm strokes, and felt her finger still frigging herself. She must have had one orgasm after another for a good three minutes. I was beat and just wanted to roll off, but Mora held me on her, gasping for breath, her mouth on my ear, her hands slipping over my slick-wet back. I was still moving in her slowly, moaning with my own pleasure and shriveling fast in her slushy wetness.
Mora was panting. "You're going to be the best, the best of them all. Jesus," she laughed, "I'm so fucked out I can't move. I feel like I'm dead."
I don't know if she meant it, or if she just said it to make me feel good, but I was proud of myself. I felt like going out and raping the world just to do it a favor. I had never felt so virile or so powerful. Just yesterday, I couldn't screw any better than most other acne-corroded teen-agers; today I had made a been-around Woman of the World come with my cock, and not just once, either. I tried to remember how many orgasms Mora had had, but gave up because the last series was one on top of another, and I had lost count. And if she had said the first one wasn't so good, the rest, after we had started again, must have been great. After her shuddering and screaming, I didn't see how she could have had anything better.
I had a powerful urge to sleep, but Mora anticipated me again. "Don't you dare," she said.
"Dare what?"
"Go to sleep on me. I don't care how tired you think you 'are. or how sleepy. When you've finished making love is the time a woman most wants to be held and fondled and talked to. Otherwise, you make her feel that she's been used, that you're through with her body and you don't really give a damn about her, you just want to roll over, like those awful men I was talking about before. So don't do it, ever. You don't sleep until your lady is drifting off to dreamland. Then, she'll sleep with a smile on her little face and love you twice as much as if you just turned over and started snoring."
Finally we separated. Mora was shiny with our mixed sweat. Hairs that had come off my chest and belly stuck to her, making small, curly accents on her smoothness. The beautiful satin sheets were covered with large, dark stains from where our juices had run down her ass and the insides of her thighs. The cool air hitting my body was refreshing, and Mora put her head on my stomach, where the hair was all matted down and sticky.
"I'm sorry my jerking set you off," she said, "but I couldn't help it.
"It's okay. I was ready, anyway." I sure was.
She licked my glistening, shriveled cock lightly. "If I do it again and it feels too good or if I do it before you're ready, pull almost all the way out and hold still. I'll be too far gone, so I'll have to keep jerking, but you can probably make yourself lose the urge if you tighten your rectal muscles. Just pretend that you have to move your bowels very badly, and you're trying not to crap in your pants." I laughed. "It doesn't always work. If you wait an instant too long, it probably won't. It's not too good, anyway, because from then on your pump is primed and it's just a matter of how much you can take before you go off." She cupped my balls tenderly. "But sometimes an extra minute or even an extra few seconds, can make a lot of difference."
We talked awhile, and then went into the bathroom together to get rid of our urine.
"Sit on the toilet," she said. Her voice took on that sexy air with which I was beginning to become familiar.
"I only have to pee," I said.
"I know, but sit on the toilet, anyway. I want to show you something that feels marvelous."
I did as Mora said, and she sat facing me, straddling my lap with her arms around my neck. We kissed, and I was really -so naive that I didn't know what she intended. When she pulled her face away, it was a picture of concentration, eyes closed, mouth open. I felt a warm, wet sensation against my belly as she started moaning with pleasure.
My God, she was pissing on me! And what shocked me even more was that it did feel wonderful. Mora began lifting herself, moving up my chest, and I could feel the hot torrent run down over me, drenching my genitals and dripping into the water below. I thought she would stop at my neck, but she didn't. She put her cunt right up to my face, and I could see a thin stream still coming out, although not with the same force as it had a few seconds earlier. Her pubic hair and the insides of her thighs were wet and it was running in rivers down onto the lo-wer cheeks of her ass, and then onto my chest.
"God!" I said. "Where did you learn that?"
But there was no answer. She got oft of me hurriedly, pulled open the shower curtains and lay on the floor, over the drain.
"Stand over me and piss on me," she moaned, beginning to frig herself. "Hurry!" I stood over her and directed myself down, but for some reason I couldn't go.
"Hurry!" she kept saying. "Hurry!" The cold tile floor of the shower was yellow with Mora's urine, dripping off of me and rolling over her sides. Finally I started to pee in a thin stream, then more forcefully.
"All over me," she cried. "Do it all over me, ohhh, it's so warm and nice." She was writhing on the floor beneath my steam and masturbating frantically. "Do it on my face, damn it, hurry!"
I was starting to slack off, so I got on my knees, straddling her face, and kept it pointed at her, but she wanted more. She took my spurting cock in her free hand and rubbed it all over her face, and as the last drops were coming out she put it into her mouth while she had a long, rolling orgasm.
Mora was so weak I had to help her to her feet. She turned on the water and we took a hot, loving shower.
Afterward, relaxing in bed, she talked to me about it. "I suppose that some people would call what we did absolutely filthy. Some people say that sucking is filthy but fucking is clean. And some people say fucking is filthy unless it's done with no passion and with the lights out and the covers up and all your clothes on and just for procreation. And some people say masturbation is filthy but nudity is okay. And some people say that nudity is filthy except on works of art. So who's to know or say what's actually filthy and what isn't? As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing in the world that a man and woman who have a mutual love and respect for each other can do that is filthy, or even slightly abnormal, as long as they both enjoy it.
"Psychiatrists like to label everything and stick it in neat little cubbyholes because it helps hide their ignorance and lays a smokescreen over the fact that theirs is an inexact science, and that most of the time they don't know what the hell they're talking about. They call making love 'coitus,' and if you pull it out early, it's 'coitus interrupt us,' and if you like it in the ass, it's 'sodomy,' and if you like urine, it's 'urolagnia.' They have a name for every form of sexual expression, and if it doesn't conform with what's currently considered standard, they label it an 'aberration' and it's supposed to be 'filthy.'
"Thirty years ago, masturbation was an aberration, but then when the pundits decided that it was really quite nice, they dropped the label. Five years ago oral sex was an aberration, until Kinsey discovered that a goodly percentage of the population enjoyed it, so the medical witch doctors said, well, they guessed that sucking off was okay too.
"In discussing what's normal and what isn't, these witch doctors insist on tying themselves to a morality based upon unscientific religious concepts haphazardly pronounced by some pope hundreds of years ago, or by the Bible. It gives them a built-in bias and makes the whole thing insane. If a man likes to fuck donkeys, disease aside, then why the hell shouldn't he? Does it hurt the man? Does it hurt the donkey?
"Some people like to be shit on. It doesn't do anything for me, but I know that some people like it. So all the little Freudians start scurrying about with their little notebooks and their subconscious religious upbringings, and they say to themselves, 'Aha, this, guy likes to eat shit. The Pope 'says, or somebody, somewhere, we can't remember just who, says this is an aberration, it isn't normal. Therefore, we have to find a reason for this abnormality, and after due and careful consideration of two people who liked to eat shit, we found that both had trouble with their potty training. Of course, there's also a few million who have had trouble with their potty training who don't like to eat shit, but then why let the facts obscure the issue? We needed a reason and we found one. We'll put it in all the textbooks, and the Pope and all the religions and all the religious moralists will be happy, because these people whose freedom threatens them will be sick, and they will come to us, and we will cure them. Because everybody has to like their sex the way we say they should like it, otherwise, it's off to Happy Acres with them."
My brain was whirling from her inescapable logic.
"It felt good, didn't it?"
"What?"
"My urine coming onto you, it felt good, didn't it?"
I had to admit that it had felt good; in fact, it had felt terrific.
Mora and I talked for hours and I enjoyed her tremendously. She had only a high-school education and her modeling school, yet she was one of the most learned people I had ever met. Her ideas excited me, challenged me, forced my brain to work in areas of thought I had never considered.
She lay between my legs, her head on my genitals, her hands caressing my belly, and we fell asleep.