Yatra

Yatra Yatra

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Romance on a yoga vacation

Summary

Romance on a yoga vacation

Content

Submitted: November 26, 2011

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: November 26, 2011

A A A

A A A


 

I like profiling people. Especially standing in the long line to check-in at the airport, there is nothing else to do. The terminal is dark and stuffed. There are people, people-fences, benches, luggage, x-ray scanners everywhere. The only interesting thing is to discover the gems of hot people in the masses. The counter for Air India was particularly crowded.
 
Most Indians had dark skin and $50 suits. Most Angelinos had $300 t-shirts and hot, sexy makeup. You could tell for the average India, wearing a suit propelled him to be an executive. And, they had no sense about how horrible the draping and fabric of their suit was. Au contraire, an Angelina would wear knee high boots that were shaped to dress around her calves smoothly. The material almost seemed wet, so fine was the surface. And then, she’d wear a mini skirt and a thick sweater. The sweater would be puffy with a lot of fluffed cotton. It had little penguin and snow flake designer logos.
 
What the little spy in me was really curious about was to find members of my group. I was on my way to India for a yoga vacation. Yoga people tended to have a certain kind of slenderness about them. The practice makes people slender, not just in a skinny way, but in a way that all muscles seem elongated. Their eyes tend to be clearer from the meditation practice and emotional releases. They tend to prefer warm, happy earthy colors. Then, there are certain brands like Lululemon and Prana that have certain cuts.
 
For example that tall blond over there: Her hair was about boob long. It wasn’t as shiny and smooth as the typical Angelina. She probably used natural shampoo. She was wearing workout clothes. The pants hugged her thighs firmly. Her butt was probably beautifully shaped into two round mounds. I could not see it from the front. She had a kind of nervousness about her that suggested that she was unfamiliar in dealing with luggage and checking in. Yoga people can be space cadets.
 
She bent forward. Her purse fell of her shoulder. She opened a luggage pocket. She closed it. She searched for papers in her purse. She talked to an airline person. She seemed like a total mess. Then she walked away. I looked for her. I waited a minute. She did not come back. Her large suit case, bit carry on stood abandoned. They were both a bit scuffed.
 
The post 9-11 worry started rising in me like a boiling kettle. I looked around. There were throngs of people in lines going everywhere. An airline person tried to re-route one line. It was like tucking a snake body to make it create new geometric patterns. The mumbled public announcement system warned a second time about abandoned items.
 
I had to do something. I did not want to get blown to pieces in a crowded airport terminal. There was a police offer standing with his legs wide in commando style. At his legs, there was a German Sheppard patiently sitting on his butt. However the head of the German Sheppard was keenly aware. It kept sniffing and tilting around like a super smart dog. I waved at them. The police officer strutted at me with big military steps.
 
“Those bags have been abandoned.”
 
The police officer tilted is head to the side. He spoke into the black intercom that was velcroed on his shoulder. Short words burst into the intercom. There was a moment of silence. The officer seized me up. I heard the clear hard beat of combat boots playing a rhythm on the airport tile. Within sixty seconds, a squadron of four National Guard soldiers stormed onto the scene in formation. They were wearing bright desert combat boots, camouflage. The Kevlar and utility pockets made them look big and bulky. They held assault rifles at the ready. They started pushing people back to create a secure perimeter. Really, I was completely dazed at what my thoughts and short moment of speaking out my thoughts had caused.
 
The yoga woman came running. Apparently, she was simply at the end of the line. I could not see through the people behind me. She had simply left her bags at the front of the line to avoid shuffling them every little step along the line. Fuck, I felt like such a tool. My stomach felt like a void.
 
“Are those your belongings,” barked the police officer. His head was really large.
 
The yoga woman fell on her knees and hugged her luggage. Her face was red and white patterned. She cried a tear. “Those are mine.”
 
“Ma’am, stay with your luggage at all times from now on.”
 
The National Guard leader made a circle in the air with his index finger and pointed to somewhere. The squadron pivoted on their heels. They trotted off into the mass of people. Their boots played out the rhythm.
 
“Sir, you did a good job notifying us about the abandoned luggage.”
 
The police officer walked off with his dog tightly at the side.
 
“I am so sorry. I just didn’t realize that you were right behind all those people.”
 
She just glared at me to give me a little taste of the boiling hot anger she inwardly directed at me. She pulled her wheeled luggage to the end of the line. The suit case seemed so heavy that her whole body had to lean hard to pull it. I just didn’t know what to do. My face was flush red. Everyone around me knew what I had done. The police officers praise was nice. But, every civilian knew that I was a giant asshole.
 
So, I shuffled on in the line. I handed over my passport and ticket at the counter. I persevered standing upright through the hour long line for the security check. No matter, how bad I felt, my eyes could not help themselves and scan for sexy women feet or anything intimate that the x-ray inspections or pat downs would reveal.
 
Finally, the terminal was a respite after all the compression. Giant floor to ceiling windows gave a view of the wide open tarmac. The waiting planes always roused excitement about travel and distant places. There were pretty shops. People smiled again. I double checked the boarding time and gate.
 
The yoga woman was sitting at the gate already. She had a magazine folded in one hand and a pen in the other. I took all my courage together and walked up to her. She had a lovely, oblong face. Her lips were painted warm red. Her shoulders were bulky for a woman. She probably had strong muscles. I took a deep inhale.
 
“Look, I am terrible sorry about the trouble that I caused you.”
 
“Look, I am not a rude person,” she inhaled, paused, and started hissing, “but, fuck off and die already.”
 
“Okay, I probably should leave. However, I have a hunch that we are both on the way to the same yoga vacation. If that is true, I would really want to repair the damage. Because we’d both want to relax and things not be weird.”
 
“Oh, Jesus, I try to get away from all the LA yoga douchebags. And, the biggest of all follows me to India.”
 
“Tell me what to do to make it up. Anything!”
 
“Let me breathe for a moment. I really believe in my principles. Honest repentance should be accepted. If you are on the yoga tour, you will hand carry my luggage everywhere. You will be my little errand boy. For starters, finish this cross word puzzle for me. It’s frustrating me. And, do it over there. I don’t want to be near you right now.”
 
I took the folded magazine off her hand. “Oh, cerebellum – that’s the part of the brain that knows the difference between what is part of your body and part of the outside.”
 
“I’m going to say this nicely.”
 
“Okay, I’ll be over there.”
 
 
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
India, India, I love you! I was in the New Delhi terminal. Oh, every woman had such beautiful golden jewelry and colorful clothes. I could not get enough of Henna paintings on hands. The hands would swoosh past me in rhythm with people’s steps. I’d glimpse an ornate hand region for something in a vendor cart. Hmm, I could already smell the rich spices of the food in the air. The tall hall with the historic, cathedral like windows were amazing.
 
Oh, and I had no luggage to pull. That tool of an idiot was pulling two big suitcases through the thick mob of people. That treats him right for being such a tool. He had a nice firm ass though.
 
Look at those rings! A tiny, cute stand had dozens of little itsy boxes with a ring in it. The rings had these beautiful exotic shapes of Indian letters and chakra symbols. The lady behind the cart was such an artist. She had taken skinny bronze sticks and bent them into shapes. It was kind of like playing around with a paper clip to make shapes. There was a Ganesh elephant. It fit on my fingers. I paid 300 rupees. Their money is so colorful. I kind of want a dress made out of their money. So silly, I know.
 
At the curb, a yellow bus picked us up. It had a sign for us, as if we were Hollywood stars. The bus was round like manatee. We passed an elephant in the crowded road. Imagine, somebody was picked up by an elephant! This is India!
 
A warm, happy person hugged me from the side on the bus. I just melted into her warm embrace. I could feel her big, round, soft boobs against my side. My cheek was resting against hers. Her hair tickled my face a bit. I pointed out the house with the golden roof and the millions of carvings on the side. She excitedly rubbed my belly with the arm around me.
 
“Oh, it’s so wonderful to have met you, Coco,” said I.
 
“We’ll have such a good time, Sam. The life force is so strong in this country. This is the land of the saints. You never know, when somebody touches you in the street, if it is a saint blessing you. Miracles happen here every day!”
 
“Oh, shoot, I forgot to buy tampons.”
 
“Don’t worry, I have extra. I am always so organized. That comes with the territory of being an office manager.”
 
“Oh, that is so cool. I work for a non-profit that feeds kids in Africa.”
 
“You are such a kindred soul.”
 
“I’ve got these yoga rings. They make the practice more powerful. I want to give you one.”
 
The hotel was sumptuous. It had this colonial era charm. The chairs had cute embellishments carved into the wood. There was gold plated bellhop bell on the check-in counter. The porters and my tool handled everything. Within minutes, I was in the state room of the hotel. The walls were festively carved. The men of our group had pushed the tables and chairs to the side. We were the hippies. We sat on colorful yoga mats in lotus pose.
 
The teacher wore a tight spandex pant and t-shirt with shoulder straps. He announced: “Yatris welcome to this special journey into the depth of India’s mystic land. We will travel into the foothills of the Himalayas. We will stop in Rikishesh on the way. Our final destination isUttarkashi. There are so many ashrams and holy people that you can touch the heavy energy in the air. Only a day inhaling that exalted air counteracts all the poison of the Los Angeles air of a whole year.”
 
“You all have been traveling in cramped seats in an over pressurized tube shooting through the sky. It’s time to decompress. Let’s all close our eyes and take a deep inhale.”
 
His voice was so gentle. I felt innocent like a baby. Upward dog made my heart open. I could feel my love energy spreading into the room. Exhale and into downward dog. My butt bone cracked. Oh, it was a release. All the tension from travel fell off me. Love was all around the room. Bliss and sweat was our life.
 
The teacher returned from a bathroom break. Coco turned her head to me. She was in plank pose. She whispered, “oh my god, look at his crotch.” There was a dark circle. His penis outline was evident in the tight spandex. The dark circle was right at the tip of his penis. He hadn’t wiped in the bathroom. I rolled my eyes.
 
One moment, we were chanting. The next moment, a soft wind lifted up the front of the teacher’s yoga mat. We held our breathes. The mat lifted higher and higher. We were breathless. The yoga mat hit the teacher in the face. Sure, the windows were wide open. However, nobody could feel a strong enough draft. And, then everyone’s mat started lifting. I held my breath. The front of my mat lifted magically by an invisible hand.
 
“The spirits are welcoming us! Let’s dance with them!” called out the teacher.
 
Everyone swirled, jumped, waved. I stretched out my arms. I was an eagle soaring around everyone else. Smiles everywhere. Coco grabbed me by the shoulders. Her candy pink lips kissed me. It was a full, wet smack on the lips. She jumped on to kiss the next person. My heart was singing. I hugged the person next to me. I was so full of love that my heart had to pour out into another heart.
 
After practice, we socialized in the hotel lobby. We were sweaty and our bodies relaxed. The yoga had been deeply cathartic. The regular hotel guests had stiff shoulders. Their faces looked worried. I felt so bad for them. They were in doom. We were in bliss.
 
 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
The bus ride was rough. The shocks were shot. Every pothole hit me like a baseball bat hits my lower back. There were plenty holes. The air conditioning was a single duct next to the driver. It barely did anything for the front row. Here in the back row, we were stuck in sweltering hit. Opening the window was like choosing between the lesser of two evils. The dust from the road had already covered us in a thin layer. Fuck, the seat under my butt felt like a weak bubble upheld by the last spring standing.
 
Next to me was a foofoo. He wore a skull cap in fucking India. The fabric was so smooth and silky like a man should not be wearing it. I don’t know how he did it. His face looked smooth and tended to like a fragile French garden. I shave in the morning, too. Mine doesn’t look like that. He held his chin a little higher, as if he were a king in this dingy little bus.
 
“So, Steven,” I asked him, “ what are you doing for a living?”
 
“I’m a fashion designer. Oprah just bought us out. I got a great payout. So, I’m just going to travel around for a few months.”
 
“Wow, that must be nice. I’m a scrap metal trader.”
 
Steven gave me this oh-look and remained silent.
 
“We have some hot girl in the group. I can’t believe, we’ll be staring at yoga pant butts all week!”
 
“Oh, yeah, that girl with you is so tall, like an Amazon. Her hugs are like being hugged by the entire world. I love it!”
 
“She’s not with me. We had some problems at the airport that connected us.”
 
“You gotta tap that, Harold-boy.”
 
The rickety bus stopped in front of a white washed single story building in Rishikesh. The veranda was full of turban wearing guys. Everyone flooded out of the confines of the bus. We stretched and made nice faces at the ashram members. The women of the ashram were inside the single large room of the building. They had been busy cooking.
 
There were big piles of yellow, brown, and green stews. The food was meant to be eaten family style. There was a tall stack of chapatti bread. Simple wooden stools were available. Decade old posters of Hindu deities covered the walls. Our teacher encouraged us to eat, “This food has so much love in it, you won’t believe it.”
 
I had to split from the party. There was a little outhouse attached to the building. I had to go all the way around the house and walk on a little dirt path. The outhouse was made of exposed concrete. There was a single hole in the center of the little room. Based on the horrible smell, there was a pit under the hole. Strangely, there was a bucket of water in the room. It was a little colorful kiddie toy bucket. There was water inside. I had no clue what it was for. Oh, and there was no toilet paper.
 
I carefully peed into the hole, desperately trying not to miss. I realized that everyone had to share this hole. And, if nobody cared, it would quickly become a cesspool. I just kind of wiped my hands on my pants. I gingerly touched the door luck, knowing that everyone taking a shit would touch it as well.
 
Back in the house, everybody was already eating with a big grin of happiness. The food smelled really good. A friendly ashram woman pushed a plate in my right hand. I eagerly grabbed a chapatti from the tall stock and put it on my plate. There was something strange about how the ashram woman took the pile of chapatti away from the table right after I took one. She dumped the whole thing into the trash and started making new chapattis. Three ashram men standing around me glared at me with hate. I was so taken aback that I went to the other side of the room.
 
I sat down with and elder ashram guy. He had a full beard. It was salt and pepper colored. His turbine was tied in a fashion, where it looked very asymmetrical.
 
“You have a very beautiful ashram.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“The food is so delicious. You must be very happy.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“So, how do you like it here?”
 
“Fine.”
 
I had the distinct feeling that he did not like me. His pronunciation was very clear. It didn’t seem a language thing. All the other ashram people were in deep conversation. I was really glad to get out of there, when our bus pulled on.
 
Back in the back of the bus with Steven, I asked him: “Those ashram people gave me a weird vibe.”
 
Steven smirked back at me, “you don’t say.” It was like he could barely stifle his laughter.
 
“Maybe you know, that bathroom had a strange kiddie bucket of water. What is that for? Is that to flush?”
 
“You don’t know nothing about primitive toilets, do you? It’s to wash your hands after you wiped your ass with your hands. They don’t have toilet paper.”
 
“And, they all share the same bucket?”
 
“Yep, pretty disgusting, isn’t it. That’s why they use their left hand. And, that’s why they never touch food with their left hand.”
 
“Oh.”
 
“Yeah, oh! You kept using your left hand to put food on your plate. That sweet ashram woman said nothing, nothing at all. She quietly threw out all the spoiled food and started cooking again. The ashram men were ready to cut your throat. That’s why our teacher left early, before our yoga session.”
 
“Oh, shit.”
 
I felt horrible. My lower back that had been beating by every pothole was stinging sharply.
 
 
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
I loved the wonderful journey. It was like watching the most beautiful National Geographic documentary, only it was real. We drove to the outskirts of Uttarkashi. Beautiful, giant trees passed us up the little hill to our ashram house. One of the big round tents behind the house was for us girls. We got to roll out these Indian mattresses. Our mattresses made a star. Our feet would have a little feet party in the center of the tent. Oh, this had sleepover party so written all over it. All the other girls were getting ready for yoga class.
 
Just like sisters, we were sharing the same room. We took off our clothes. Coco was wearing these soft cotton panties. They were ringed light pink and white. The rings made her butt look like a bumble bee. She saw my glance, “You like those, hein!” I smiled. I was so glad that I went shopping at onGossamer before the trip. I was wearing a layered luxe lace thong in saphier blue with black. “Sexy, baby,” smiled Coco.
 
After a change, the room looked like a battlefield. It was clear who the organized girls and the messy girls were. Some had everything neatly packed back into their suitcase. The others had left nests of underwear and clothes on and round their mattress. A box of tampons had already spilled out. Makeup boxes showed a preference for Bare Minerals among the girls. Maybe, I should put on a little makeup. These girls weren’t all hippie. They were sexy yoga goddesses.
 
It was the morning yoga session before breakfast. The teacher had told us to get into locust post. That’s belly on the floor, arms at the side. Then, raise the arms, legs, and head of the ground. Hold them there. Only the belly presses against the ground. My back muscles were tense. My body quickly started shaking. Oh, lord!
 
“My yatris, the ancient yogis and yoginis used locust pose to warm up. We will hold this for twenty minutes. You will be utterly hot at that time. Fight through the pain. Fight for your destiny. Let your spirit rule your body. Don’t let your body rule your spirit!”
 
The teacher had groped everyone already during the previous yoga sessions. He loved coming close, tugging at a hip, stepping gently on a hand. All the while, eye roll, he wore tights that clearly showed his penis. And, he had so no clue that he was showing his penis.
 
Sweat ran down my face. My lower back was a rain soaked jungle. The tickle of sweat running across the back of my knee was novel. My shoulders were hurting the worst. Everyone was hanging in there. I could not be the first to give up. I would have given up already three minutes ago. I never realized that I could keep going. Actually, what kept me going was a radiant energy from my groin. Lifting everything up, I pressed my pubic bone sharply against the ground. There was a warm tingling that spread out from there along the entire inside of my thighs. I secretly pressed my pubic bone harder against the ground. It felt so good. I desperately wanted that feeling more than I wanted to get out of the pain of my muscles. The pain made me lose my guard to chase that pubic/inner thigh feeling with abandon.
 
The teacher had us sit up for breathing exercises. I looked around. “Where is Harold,” I whispered to Coco. She whispered back, “remember, how the guys had to carry him out of the bus, because his back went out? He’s sick in his bed.”
 
“I’d like you all to put your hands on your heart. Today, we are going to study the heart chakra. In Sanskrit, it is called unbeaten or unhurt. Your heart pumps blood 60 times a minute. It sends love to every part of your body 60 times a minute. It does not discriminate. It sends love to every part of your body. And, that love heals all your hurt. Every day, we will study another chakra. Today, we will completely emerge into the spirit of the heart.”
 
“With your hands on your heart, I’d like you to take all the people of your life into your heart. Take your mother. Take your lover. Take your boss. Take that asshole. Yes, take the worst rotten asshole that you know into your heart. Your heart wants to love selflessly. Just let it love.”
 
I looked over at Coco. She had a smile on her lips like god was looking down at her from heaven. Tears ran down her face. I bit my lip. I knew what I had to do. I did not want to do it. Yet, I knew. I had this feminine spirit whisper in my heart: “There is one person that is your worst asshole. And, he needs the most love of all of them right now.” I quietly got up and walked out.
 
The men’s yurt was like ours. There was no wood to knock against, only white fabric. “Hello, it’s Sam. Can I come in?”
 
“Yeah, I’m sorry about not carrying your luggage. I can’t move.”
 
I gently pulled the tent opening away. There was the smelly boy locker room smell. They boys had thrown their sweat soaked workout clothes on the floor. The floor was littered everywhere with stuff. How could they tell, who owned what. It was one big pile. Of course, the boys already had squashed beer cans. Those naughty boys didn’t even care about throwing them out.
 
Harold, the airport snitch, was lying on his back. Only his head turned to face me. He had these painful eyes with red in them. My heart melted at the poor puppy. I sat down next to him. I looked into his pale face. His beard hair had grown out over two days. A few locks of hair curled onto his forehead. He looked kind of sexy. His clothes were crumbled from sleeping in them.
 
“Oh, my poor tollpatsch.”
 
“What’s a tollpatsch?”
 
“My German grandma would call me that each time that I made a mess.”
 
I could sense in him that he had this softness. It was like he was energetically reaching out to me to be touched. He was like this lost and alone lamb that finally found a little love. Oh, it broke my heart to see him like that. I could not help but reach out with my hand to touch the face of this little fallen angle. He closed his eyes. His skin was a little a million little people calling out to my hand, “come to us.”
 
“Oh, you must be so bummed to be out here by yourself.”
 
“Sam, you don’t know how hard I try to do the right thing. And, I always feel like the outsider, the loner.”
 
He had this wounded deer look in his face. “Let me give you a hug.” Because he could not move, I bent forward and laid my chest onto his. I gently held his head in my hands. I just held him. I had to hold his soul. I had to pour out my love. I felt his chest lifting slow like the rising tide and lowering. We were in this messy yurt. He was filthy from a lack of hygiene. We had this deeply touching moment. And, then I cried. I cried, dear lord!
 
“Harold, you don’t know how lonely I feel at work. I collect donations for starving African children. Everyone feels always obliged to praise our cause and be uber-friendly. However on the inside, they try to get away from me so quickly. They feel uncomfortable about saying ‘no’ to donating. They fear that, when I stay with them, I will ask them for a donation. I go to all these cocktail parties. People make big extravagant gestures to praise our cause. And then, they run like hell to get away from me. Each time, it’s like a stab to my chest.”
 
He gently patted me on the back. It reminded me of my grandma. That’s how she used to soothe me. We held each other. We were really present. There was no rush, no appointment book, no cell phone service. I fell into a little slumber. My eyes were all blurry, when I woke up. His torso felt so comfortable. I pushed my hand on his chest like familiar furniture at home.
 
“Hey Sam, could you do me a favor? The teacher left some Ayuverdic oil with me. I can’t reach.”
 
“Of course, my tollpatsch. Roll over.”
 
Harold labored to lift his head a few inches. With great moans, he lifted his hip around. His face fell on the pillow. He seemed happy to stay where he was. My fingers reached to the sides of his t-shirt. I pulled on it. His body was too heavy. He tried to move. “You relax. I got this.” My fingers pressed into the mattress. I dragged the shirt up. I pulled his pajamas down. He had a nice plumber’s crack. His butt and back was actually quite cute.
 
The oil was in a little bowl. Cute stick figures were painted on the bowl. I held the bowl to my face. Lavender smelled relaxing. There was a subtle smell of roses that indicated bilva. The bilva fruit looks like a skull. It is used in ritualistic worship of Shiva. The oil coated my hands. It felt soft like velvet. It drizzled from one hand to the other. My skin warmed it.
 
I planted my hands on his back. I held them there to let the energy permeate. After a while, I a caressed my hands in circles over his lower back und upper butt. I played with his skin. I painted the alphabet on his blighted body. The oil made his skin shine. It dried within minutes. The residue was sticky. I got enamored with the valley between his back muscles. I felt the knobs of his spine.
 
A funny spirit came over me. I pulled down his pants to below his butt. His butt was stark naked. His face was buried in the pillow. He was unable to move. I teased him, “Will the boys rape you, if I leave you like that?” I pinched his butt in the intimate center cleft. He protested muffled in his pillow. He tried to move his arms. He couldn’t. I laughed at my mischief. He was like a beetle on its back.
 
I heard someone come. I quickly pulled the pants over his butt. My heart was panting like a little bunny chasing over the grass. Oh, my god, what had I done! I was getting a little careless there in this bubble among open hearted yogis. One of the dudes came to pick something up. He left pretty promptly.
 
 
++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 
It went a little better. The back was a little better. Sam’s visit had really helped. The back pain was mostly psycho-somatic. All the stress had taken its toll. I had tried to bury my distress on the inside. And, look what it did to me. Her warm connection had triggered something in my body. I could sit up for the first time in Uttarkashi. Steven was standing next to me, looking over my movements.
 
“Hey buddy, if you can sit, you can sit with us. The boss is only going to do a sitting meditation. We’ll prop you against a wall with a pillow. You should be with us.”
 
Steven reached his muscular arm out to me. He obviously had way too much time to burn in the gym. I grabbed his wrist. He grabbed my wrist. He pulled me up like an Ariane 5 rocket. He stretched my arm over his shoulder and dragged me to the ashram house. Everyone waved at my return. Steven gave me his blanket. The blanket was way soft, such a fabric geek. Coco brought pillows. Sam smiled at me, “be my meditation partner.” It felt like a home coming parade for the victorious troops. I couldn’t help and smile at all the warmth.
 
Sam sat Indian style. Her face was earnest. Her shoulders were big. She had a long nose. Her boobs were well sized. However, her torso was so wide and tall that the stretched out. She wore a new tank top with a deep cut out in the front. I could see the absence of a bra. Her naked heal was pressed right up to her crotch. She was wearing a little golden bracelet around her ankle.
 
The teacher commenced the introduction: “We walk through life and we feel that nobody loves us. It’s not true. Everybody loves you. They just forgot that page in the book. Love is all around us. People just forget. The heart chakra is the center of selfless love.”
 
“Face your partner. You are going to take turns. Hold your heart with both hands and tell your partner. ‘I love you.’ Then, place your hand on your partner’s heart and ask ‘Do you love me?’ Don’t answer. Switch turns. I’ll play you some music. Keep doing it for 62 minutes.”
 
Sam looked deeply into my eyes. I saw the color in her iris. She had this look like she was speaking from the bottom of her heart. Her hand pressed against the center of her chest. I could see her boobs being squooshed. “I love you.” She pronounced every syllable with the deepest sincerity. Her delicate fingers gently touched my chest. “Do you love me?” She looked at me questioning with vulnerability in her eyes.
 
I smiled. I had to smile at her face. I felt my own chest. I filled it with the feeling of Christmas family evening. I filled it with all my siblings sitting together in peace on the couch and on the floor. I felt so vulnerable for touching into that tender part of me. When my mouth opened, I visualized a beam of warm loving light radiating into her heart. “I love you.”
 
I carefully reached my hand onto her chest. I was conscious of not touching her boobs too much. I felt like NASA – I had made contact. Her soft skin gave me a sense of her. All the vulnerability of being in school, alone in the playground on break, hoping – inwardly begging – that someone would want to play with me welled up inside of me. “Do you love me?”
 
Like a wave, her “I love you” came over me. She tilted her head sideways as a gesture to say, ‘how could you ever doubt my love?’ “Do you love me?” she asked with the playfulness of a child that knows that everybody loves her. I burst out, “I love you!” I know that it is supposed to be an exercise, not a romantic love thing. However, every bone in my body loved Sam so much. And, I let it all come out without reservation or fear of being rejected.
 
62 minutes later, the teacher clapped to praise us: “Well done, children of love. For this evening, we have a special treat. Back in Los Angeles, yoga is trimmed down to be a bit of stretching. Here in India, we can practice real yoga. The heart is selfless service. We went through the postures that strengthen the heart. We mediated on the energy of the heart. Now, it is time to go out and serve.”
 
“The Sakya temple is a very poor temple. They selflessly serve. They do not beg. When nobody feeds them, they hunger. And, they still go into the streets to help the needy. We will do their dinner service. I bought a truck load full of food. It only cost $100. Yet, it feeds 500 monks. You will go around and serve the food. You will be the loving servers to the monks.”
 
“The energy in the monastery is very special. They pray and mediate for ours. Multiply that by 500 monks. Multiply that by millennia. The positive energy is so thick in there. Good spirits from all over the world are drawn to it. If you are contemplative, you might draw out such a spirit. While you are in the temple observe golden silence.”
 
Our tattered bus drove us to the monastery about an hour away. Sam sat down next to me. We were silent for a while. I could feel her thigh pressing against mine. I was just taking deep breathes to sense the little hint of her body smell in the air.
 
“I really like you, Sam.”
 
“I like you, too, Harold.”
 
There was a bit more silence. The day was already growing dark.
 
“Harold, I want to tell you something.” 
 
“Sure.”
 
“I believe in forgiving. I often put my feelings back, when someone apologizes. I want to tell you how horrible that SWAT team incident really was.”
 
“(continued) I sometimes fall prey to negative thinking. My thoughts spiral out of control. It’s like I forget to deposit a check at work. Next I think that I will be fired. I imagine not being able to get a job, because my name will be tarnished in the industry. I imagine the cold pavement that I will sleep on. I’d feel so helpless being homeless. And, then people would rape me. And, dogs would eat me.”
 
“(continued) I had really horrible things going through my head, when the SWAT team came at the airport. I imagined that they would pull me into a room, strip search me, leave me naked for hours and days. I’d end up on a black CIA prison in one of those women hating Arab countries. I’d get tortured every day.”
 
Sam started sobbing. “I know it’s not real. It’s my mind runs away. And, then it feels real.”
 
Harold hugged Sam, “I got my first tooth pulled this year – not a wisdom tooth, a real tooth.”
 
“What!? I open up and you tell me about your dental history?”
 
“Listen it out. I felt so horrible about it. I felt like I was losing a part of me. I was losing a part of me. Just having to accept that I am nothing but a bunch of parts to those doctors – not a real person – was so hard for me. I cried at night about having to voluntarily let part of my body be taken. When I was done crying and the tooth was gone, I felt like my brain had to accept something that irrevocably changed it.”
 
“(continued) Losing parts of your body, the world forces you to take it without a whimper. I lost empathy. I had to have a skin autopsy later. I felt nothing for having a piece of skin cut out of me. A colleague went through chemo. I felt nothing anymore. People have to go through medical torture. That’s just the way it is. I think about my own death. I don’t feel anything anymore. When I lost that tooth, I lost any feeling. It’s like my heart is made of metal.”
 
“Come here tollpatsch,” said Sam. She pulled me in. She put her lips on my mouth. Her tongue followed. They call French kissing soul kissing. I felt for the first time that I touched another soul. When I told her my secret, I had to take down my emotional wall. And, her tongue was freely visiting in the city of my soul. It wasn’t about the physical, erotic feeling of wet, female tongue in my mouth. It was about letting down. About not being judged or sent away.
 
We were soul kissing in the back of the raggedy bus. It’s not the environment. It’s the experiences that you have. The environment simply happens. Back in LA, we pay so much for premium service and interior design. It can’t buy the human experience that I found in the rickety bus in a third world country.
 
 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
The whole day had been emotionally deep and regressive. My inner child had come out to play. The environment was supportive. I could be a little girl. All the girls in our group were blooming. They were infectious. We were on an exciting trip to a real monastery. They were real monks, not the Los Angeles monks that go home to watch TV.
 
I saw the monastery. And, I knew that it was the real deal. It had the intense red color of the monk robes. The golden embellishments were quaint. Rows and rows of monks stood to welcome us. Everyone had a red robe. They looked so similar, like a monk army. There were little ones. Their faces were so childish in the monk robes.
 
A little pickup truck had followed us. It had only one front wheel in the center. Buckets of rice and lentil stew were on the truck bed. The teacher gave each of us a bucket of food. Sweet baby Jesus, a bucket of rice is heavy. I held the skinny plastic hold with both hands. I barely held the bucket up.
 
We walked in a procession up the stairs. The monks stood at the sides. Inside rows of monks sat on carpets. I held the bucket of rice to the first monk. He smiled at me. He placed his hands together to thank me. I felt like yelling out ‘take the food already, god dammit.’ I really wanted to. The bucket was so heavy. I was breaking. Selfless service is hard.
 
Each monk only took a spoon full of rice. Sweat ran down my face. It dropped into the bucket. Nobody minded. I had rolled up the bottom of my t-shirt to expose my belly. No disrespect monks, holding that bucket really worked the core muscles. My belly was glistening wet.
 
They had no hurry. Each one of them gave me a ceremony of gratitude before taking my rice offering. I looked into so many different eyes. All the eyes were patient and waiting from years of mediation. They were so composed. I was so struggling with that heavy bucket. I felt like bambi.
 
The next morning was ominous. I sensed something odd. The weight of the blanket seemed off. My right arm didn’t move right. I looked at the sky outside of our yurt. The cloud formations seemed threatening. Coco smiled at me and said “good morning.” I recognized her face in a dream. In the dream, Coco had been a demon that was boiling me in a pot.
 
I stumbled out of the yurt. My legs had stubble. I hadn’t shaved since being in India. My hair was a mess. I smelled from the humid air of sleeping with eight girls. I pinned the yoga mat under my elbow. It was time for before-breakfast-yoga. Something strange hit me. Thick black smoke poured out of our ashram. I had never seen such black smoke.
 
I panicked. I noticed that everyone was simply standing in front of the ashram.
 
“What’s going on?”
 
“I think Baba lost it. He’s been mumbling something about exorcising evil spirits. He hasn’t’ talked to anybody. It’s crazy in there.”
 
I was curious. I climbed the stairs to the entrance. I lowered my head. I covered my nose with my t-shirt. The upper half of the room was filled with opaque black smoke. The lower half was kind of clear and only smelled burned. I crawled into the room. Coco was sitting in meditation pose. She relished the drama.
 
Our teacher pulled a bouquet of incense sticks out of a wrapping. He lit all of them. He stuck them into buckets filled with sand. Then, he lit all of them. The floor was littered with incense boxes. There were literally thousands of incense sticks burning at the same time.
 
The teacher called out, “we have to exorcise the demons. Lord Vishhnu gave us an exercise to do it. Stick your tongue out as far as you can. Open your eyes wide. Hiss ‘ha.’ That will scare them away.”
 
The teacher squatted. His face looked wild with the tongue out and eyes like big O’s. Coco was thrilled. She daunted the demons with fire. I gingerly tried it as well. Oh my god, I could feel it. I made the face. I could feel my power pour out. I had memories of my boss, donors, random people in the street coming to me. All those people had in common that they had scared me. And, I saw them in the smoke. And, I hissed at them. I exorcised them. With all my power, I hissed. I pulled the eyes open as far as I could. I got lost in the witch hunt.
 
Everyone else came into the room. The hissing was noisy like a barn full of ducks all quacking at the same time. The energy of everything scaring demons was so intense and intoxicating. I smiled a little inwardly at all the chaos that we were breaking loose. We were grownups acting like little children. I so missed being silly.
 
Breakfast was served outside to give the ashram time to air out the black cloud of smoke.
 
 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 
I think everybody was a little off kilter after the morning craziness. I mean some people really went with the mythical side. Other people were more apprehensive. Overall, people seemed to agree that by coming out into ashram country, they set themselves up for a special experience. And, they simply had to roll with the punches. What happens in Uttarkashi, very probably stays in Uttarkashi.
 
Baba had us gather in a big circle after breakfast. He was going to give us a lecture. The smell of incense was still in the air. The structure itself was probably so heavily inundated that the smell would linger for a year. Though, Baba was all smiles and excited about his lecture. Everyone else looked happy from the breakfast in the belly. People were leaning on each other. The touchy feely people gently massaged the arms or neck of fellow students. It’s a nice treat.
 
“The swadhisthana is the sex chakra. I know a lot of polite drawings in Los Angeles place it a little higher or lower. The true teaching is that the swadhisthana is your sex organs. It is your penis and your vagina. I am blunt with you. Because the chakra requires being blunt. In Los Angeles, we can’t teach this. Here is Uttarkashi, we can give you the untarnished teaching.”
 
“The swadhisthana represents desire. I know that’s very taboo to talk about. We break that taboo today. I’ll tell you a little story about Yogananda. He was the first yogi in the West. He lived in a time, where real saints and mystiques lived in remote caves. We have lost so much of the knowledge of these special beings.”
 
“Yogananda was a very religious Hindu man. As such, they belief getting rid of desire is the pass to bliss. Now, they were smart. They realized that when you suppress desire, it only gets stronger. So, they set desires free. Every person has a specific number of desires. Once he freed himself of them, he achieves nirvana.”
 
“This one night, he was with his guru and a group of disciples. They were far up in the Himalayas, so that they could do their ascetic practice. Around dinner time, their guru addressed them, ‘Mohit has left but one desire before he is desireless. I will grant him release of the last desire tonight. Mohit dreams about having an elaborate feat in a golden palace. So, everyone close your eyes.’”
 
“Everyone closed their eyes. When the guru told them to open the eyes again, they were inside of a palace entirely made from gold. The walls were pure gold. The floor was pure gold. The chairs were pure gold. The pillows were pure gold. There was a golden table with a huge feast. There were out of season mangoes, lamb racks, anything you could name was on that enormous table.”
 
“What Yogananda could not write in his published book were the temple courtesans. That would have been to no-no for the Western audience. They had temple courtesans. Those were gorgeous, full breasted, naked women with deep black mascara eyes.”
 
“That band of Hindu spirituals feasted and fucked so hard. Imagine the most intense Internet porn. They were fucking. They didn’t know which of those hot beauties to fuck. So, they just put their dicks from one to the next. They were hungry. They’d eat with their mouth. The women were so horny that they’d lick their cocks, while the men were eating. I mean, the men would come. And, right away the next courtesan would deeply kiss them to get them hard again. These Hindu disciples were pigs. They ate so much that they puked.”
 
“And, then the next morning, they woke up. They were lying on the hard barren Himalaya mountain ground. Their teacher had vanished. The special disciple had the look of Nirvana on his face. And, they went back to a life of not eating/drinking for days to mediate without break.”
 
“If you want your yoga practice to be complete, you have to embrace that wild sexual side. You have to open up your sex chakra. I know this will be uncomfortable for a lot of you. That’s why we are here as a supportive circle to help you with the difficult voyage of letting go of your Western prudishness to open up your Swadhisthana.”
 
“I’d like everyone to hold their genitals in one hand. I know. I know. If you are a man, hold your penis. If you are a woman, hold your vagina.”
 
I felt reluctant. The teacher held his crotch. I held my crotch as well. It felt strange to hold my penis with all the sexy yoga women around. I mean in my dreams, I’d want to screw all of them. However, in reality I keep that part in check. Hey, I don’t want to be the creep. It was strange feeling the body of my penis through the fabric of the pants. I could feel the head and the shaft.
 
“Very good. That is the first step of getting in touch with your Swadhisthana. Feel it. Feel that energy. Feel that awkwardness that you may feel about it. If you can’t connect to your Swadhisthana, you can’t connect to other people. Every chakra has its function. The throat chakra is how we teach others. The Swadhisthana is how we connect to other people. I don’t mean that you have to have sex with everyone. However, the kind of energy that you hold in your genitals is the kind of energy that lets you connect to other people. You cut that off, you cut people off.”
 
“Now, reach into your pants. Don’t be shy, reach into your panties as well. Hold your sex organ there.”
 
The teacher paused to give us time to muster the courage. He gave us time to feel. I could feel the naked penis in my hand. The skin was a little sticky. I could feel the curly groin hair that tried sticking to the head of my penis. My slack penis hardened a bit. The thought of the women touching their vaginas, getting their vagina secretion on their hands was titillating. People would have to touch things eventually later in the class. I imagined the essence of their sex transferred by their hands all over the room.
 
“Okay, I have asked my friend Mick Jagger to lead the next part. I’ll ask everyone individually to come to the center of the circle and strip. Don’t just take off your clothes. Peel them off very sexually. This is not just about getting naked. This is about awakening the erotic energy in you.”
 
The Rolling Stones started playing ‘Miss You.’ Coco jumped up without hesitation. She punched her fists in the air like a cheerleader. She lead her hips roll around to the ‘hoohoo’ of the music. Her hands glided up her belly to pull the t-shirt up and over her head. With her perfectly round boobs in green lace bra, she bounced her hips left and right wild. Then, she ran like mad in place to strip the sweat pants off her leg. Now only in her underwear, she leaned forward to stick out her butt. She put her index finger sexy on her mouth and made an ‘oh-oh’ facial expression.
 
Her body was so lean and had delicious curves at her butt and boobs as well. She pushed her boobs together before pulling off the bra. They were gorgeous. The nipples were perfectly shaped. She marched like a soldier from one side of the circle around her to the other. Her boobs unsuspended bubbled wildly. She pulled her panties down her straight legs. She pulled them apart and shot them at Steven, who happily caught them. She sat down on her yoga mat, split naked.
 
“That was awesome, Coco. This is not just for the dancer. I want the audience to really get into their sexual chakra as well. I want to hear some hooting and cat calls.”
 
My penis was very flaccid. I knew that stripping naked was unavoidable for me. I did not want to be caught with an erection. The fear kept it in check. Yet, my mind was racing to soak up every picture of this amazing real life video.
 
Steven jumped up. He slowly sauntered to the center of the circle. He pulled up his shirt slow as molasses on a humid jungle day. His abs were ripped into bubbles. His pecs bulged out. He showed off by moving his hand through his hair, so that the girls could really see his biceps and triceps. They were cajoling loudly.
 
He put his legs together. He made short little bounces. With each bounce, he pulled his sweat pants a little lower. He was wearing a G-string that packed his cock and balls into a small pouch. A girl screamed, ‘hot sexy daddy.’ He hid his genitals with one hand. He pulled down the G-string with the other. He walked up to the girl that had called out to him. In a sudden move, he flipped his hand open. The sight his shaved balls and penis popped into the girls face. She had a visceral scream of joy, as when jumping on a water slide. He sat down in the circle.
 
By now, everyone was smiles and excited. They loved cat calling and going with the whole thing. Hard-ons started popping up. Everyone accepted it. A girl teased another girl about having hard nipples. It was all fair and games now. The ice had been broken.
 
Sam did a cat like strip dance. She crawled around on the floor like a tiger. She lay on her back to trample her legs in the air in such a way as to push off her sweat pants. You really had to respect her body. She wasn’t feminine like other girls. She was 6’2”. So her body was big. There was a lot of woman to her. She had long legs. She had this vulnerability on her face about getting naked. You could really tell that she only got naked for her past boy friends at dark. She was timid about her moves. Her face kept checking people. And, then smiles broke over her face about the feat of being so confident that she could strip naked in front of other people.
 
She rolled sideway on the floor and undid her bra, while she did it. It was a trip for the mind to keep watching her body roll. Her back would hide. Her belly would show. And, I was burning with anticipation to see her boobs. They were big. However, when she lay on her back, they distributed over her wide chest. She really had a lot of muscular definition. She pulled her panties off lying on the back. She looked so exposed, waiting for everyone to take a look.
 
When I took the turn, I had a hard-on. There were too many glimpses of asses, boobs, smirks, tender blushes, bold sexual moves. Everyone could see my hard-on through the sweat pants. The girls didn’t care. They kept screaming, “I want your clothes. No me!” I just walked to the edge of the circle, lifted one foot. And, the wild yoga girls pulled the pants of my body. My underpants went kind of with the strong pull.
 
I bounced around naked beneath with my erection bouncing even harder. I tried to get as many glimpses as I could get of the girls that were already naked. Their arms were waving at me. They had no inhibition left. What really got me were the screams and calls. They directly went to my brain. I was kind of sad, when the song was over and I had to sit down as a newly naked member of the circle. Sam smiled at me. She held my panties to her face to show me that she had gotten the trophy.
 
Baba was naked. He had a raging erection. “Very good! I can feel the sexual energy in the room. Now that we have awakened the sexual energy, we have to raise it. There are a 108 paths to experience god, the universe, or whatever you call it. Sexual energy can give you that experience. However, the energy needs to be raised and transformed. You have to hold it. You can’t just squirt it out with quick in-and-out.”
 
“Now everyone get a partner. We need to pair female with male energy. It is important this time.”
 
Sam naturally turned around to me. I got a full eye full of her naked body. My gaze followed her arms and belly. I saw her checking out my body and pausing on my erection. Being visually devoured felt so good.
 
“Now, stay sitting and scoot forward. You want to insert the penis into the vagina. Yes, they don’t do that in Los Angeles yoga classes. This is Uttarkashi. Then, do not move at all. I know some of you guys struggle with premature ejaculation. I know all of you are horny. However, we are not having sex. We are energetically connecting our sex chakra. It’s like connecting the plus and minus pole of the battery. You need to connect them to get juice.”
 
“Please, no condoms. The rubber isolates the energy current. It doesn’t work with it.”
 
I started sweating. I mean, I’d ruin everything with Sam, if I’d come onto her like this. I was silent.
 
“Harold, if you are clean, I am clean. I had a gyno visit before the trip. She is my primary doctor. She checked me out.”
 
“I am clean as well.”
 
I could not believe how lucky I’d get after! Sam scooted her butt forward. She leaned back on her wrist. She lifted her pelvis over my penis and slipped down on it. Boy was she wet. She had been really turned on by the stripping. There was no pulling at all. It was one slippery ride down.
 
She leaned forward to hug me. She sat on my lap, on my penis. Her arms and legs were wrapped around me. I could feel her big boobs against my chest. My heart was pounding like mad. I pulled her clothes. I was so excited. I need to hold onto her. The smooth, wet, gentle, hot, sexy feeling on my penis was so intense. I knew that she felt my heart beating like crazy. Our chests were pressed against each other. Oh, and I was also aware of my sweaty naked ass on the yoga mat. I closed my eyes and forgot about everyone.
 
“You are a great class. We are going to do a very powerful energetic connection. I want you to connect your tongues. Don’t move them around. This is not tongue kissing. This is connecting the battery cables. It is very important that your tongues touch.”
 
“Guys, I want you to deeply inhale through the nose. Energetically suck the energy out of your female partner. Don’t suck air, do it energetically. Guide the energy up to your third eye point. Then, guide it down your spine.”
 
“Once the energy reaches the bottom of the spine exhale through the nose. Shoot the energy out of your penis and into the vagina. Push the air up her spine. There may be blockages. Use all your energetic strength to guide the energy up her spine to her tongue. Keep circling the air through both bodies with one cycle of breath.”
 
“Women, I want you to inhale through the nose. Pull all the energy out of his penis. Make your pussies suck the energy out of him. Pull the energy up your spine. On the exhale, let the energy pour into his mouth and fall down his spine like a waterfall.”
 
“Keep going. After an hour, you will be enveloped in a giant bubble of energy.”
 
The teacher took the accordion and started playing to guide us with the music. The room felt heavy with long breathing. Everyone could sense the sex in the room. Penises and vaginas had scented the room. Some of the women let out soft moans every now and then.
 
Not moving at all and staying in the position for a long time, I could really seize up what it felt like to hold the naked Sam in my arms. I felt her warm breasts against my chest. I got a sense of her tall body. Yet her body was more slender than mine. I felt every detail of her wet vagina around mine. Occasionally, she pulsed her vagina muscles around my penis in reflex. Her tongue deeply in my mouth was such a large, thick muscle. It deeply aroused me.
 
I could feel my own sexuality. I felt my horniness. I felt my hard cock. I felt how I was naked with a group of people. My mind visu


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