Back to Main Page


    This is our story about some old ladies and sex.  Syl, that is Sylvia, started it as usual.  All our lives she was always coming up with ideas that were trouble in the making.  So one fine morning over coffee she looks at me and says, "I'm tired of being horny."
     "How can you say such a thing, " I respond.  Me, Magaret or Mag.
          "Easy she says," with that look I've known for years.  "Sex, good sex, with a warm body.  Just because I'm divorced and your widowed doesn't mean we gotta lock it up and throw away the key.  Admit it, you think about it."
          "Well, yes, but thinking and doing are two different things.  And you said 'good sex', I'm not even sure what that is.  Nothing against Frank, but well you know, " says I.
          "Listen, I'm tired of the self help program.  I want more," says she.
          Okay now I got a little blush going but Syl has always known how to do that to me.  "And what crazy plan do you have for making this happen?"
          "Computers for one," she says.  "I am going to get a computer and get on the internet and find someone.  Personal magazines, I'm going to subscribe.  There has to be some fun out there."
          "Computers," I say.  "What do you know about those things?"
          "Nothing, but we'll learn."
          Well, of course, I didn't miss the 'we' part.  She has been doing this for more years than I want to count.  Involving me in her schemes.
          I won't bore you with the gory details of the various men, immature, demanding, bossy, grisly.  Nothing really got going until we met Jack.  He was younger, late forties, and he knew something that others men should learn.  It was me that first met Jack.  Whew.  Syl was always the braver of the two of us but no I had to be the one to get her mind blown, rearranged, opened wide up.  It could have been Hortense.  Yes, Hortense, how fitting huh. But I am getting a little ahead of myself.
      Look, I know Mag is writing this 'book' about our adventures.  Don't believe everything she says about . . . well okay you can believe what she says, it's all true.  But the blushing and the innocence are a put on.  She always wanted to do the things I would come up with.  If you could listen real close to the conversations you could hear her encouraging me.  So some of the trouble we have gotten into these many years is her fault.  Mag reads mysteries all the time so she probably will make this into a whodunit when she knows we all dunit.
          I really was tired of being alone and pleasuring myself.   I enjoy that but I also enjoy the excitement of exploring and playing with another.   Not that I've had a lot of experience with other people's bodies, mind you.  As I've gotten older and not so hung up about it all, the exploring has been a fantasy of mine.
          Well little did I know where this all would lead.  I mean could I have guessed we would have a 'club'  for sexually deprived older women?   Or is that depraved?   People, younger people, would like to think that at some 'ancient' age sex goes away.  Good luck.  We can hide it under layers of canasta, church stuff, tours to museums but it continues to boil away inside.  I always believe that what doesn't come out straight comes out sideways.  Have you ever been to a senior citizens center?  Whoa - snip, bite, rumor, cliches.  Sex hidden and boiling as far as I am concerned.  Boy, would I catch shit if Mag put some of this stuff in her book, the wedunit.
      Mag's writing a book and the others think its a lark, especially Syl.  Me, I'm curious how she will relay her experiences and whether she will get the others to write theirs.
          These women have been simply a joy.  I have always loved pleasuring woman.  Don't know why I am different that way.  That's what they tell me.  It really took years to explore and discover the delicateness of it all.  The joy of losing myself in ecstatic time.  But we, the club as they like to call it, moved to a new level of discovery.   And it took each of us willing to surrender to the sensuality of it all to move us into these new realms.
          I am really curious how much Mag is going to tell.
     So we got a computer and checked the personals and put in some ads.  It was interesting and boring.  It is amazing how many people are out there looking.  Most it seems to me are looking for dreams, fantasy, actually illusions.    We were sort of doing that in the beginning only because old ways of looking at the world die hard.   We each in the beginning brought our rules and standards and deep, undefined hungers to the table.  To paraphrase, illusions are what you make and life is what you live.   For me the living of the real has become very exciting.
     We answered Jack's ad:
     I love sensuality.  I am not looking for the kind of mating that a twenty year old wants.  My need is someone interesting to be with and fun to play with.  In my late forties, I don't want to reproduce.   I want to meet women that are their own person and also curious about exploring the many aspects of life especially our sensuality.
     Well, that was pretty straight forward.  And he didn't specify an age so we thought what the hell all the others we had met had been living in another world.   So I wrote him, he contacted me and we got together for coffee.  Nervous?, you bet.  I had told him my age and he didn't say anything one way or the other.  (Okay, we all are in our 60s except for Hortense the Younger who is 59, satisfied?).
     Whenever we met someone the first time and sometimes more than the first time one of the others would go along and sit in the coffee shop and watch, safety you know.  So Syl went with me.
      So Mag is doing her tell all thing with this book.  Fun.  I hope I can add a little to it at some point.  When they went off to meet "that Jack" as we were calling him they were real nervous.  I wanted to go too but had some damn appointment that messed that up.  At this point it was just Syl, Mag and I.  The three of us had not had much luck with meeting someone.   I was real ready I'll tell you.  I'm a little broader in the beam than some.  Age does that to many women but I had a head start early in life.  That's just how I'm built.
     Men think that only the women with boy's hips are sexy and sexual.  Well, okay, some men (many, most) think that.   And those some think us bigger gals oughta be thankful for any attention.  Bullshit.  When my Billy was alive he got as good as he gave.  He wasn't as good as Jack but then well, golly.
     I don't know what Mag is going to tell you about that first time.  Thinking back about that first meeting, we both, Mag and I, were real nervous, excited, real hopeful.  Don't know why we knew this was different.  Maybe the ad, maybe just that knowing we all get about certain events in our lives.
     I don't know who picks the color schemes for these restaurants.  Orange and aqua are not a combination I would choose.  I think they are just comfortable enough to eat in but not comfortable enough to stick around.  Maybe there is method in their madness.   Feed em and move em out.
     Well, Jack, was attractive.  He wasn't knock your socks off attractive but he was nice to look at and he had a liveliness about him that made him more attractive.
     I don't know what the hell they were talking about but I watched out of the corner of my eye.  They'd laugh,  they'd bend over the table in the booth and talk really quiet, then they'd laugh or sit there in silence for a while.  Frustrating to beat the band, I'll tell you.   I thought I was doing a real good job at undercover.  Mag and he made a date to meet again.  Well, when he got up leave, he says to Mag, "Tell your friend hello, for me." and nods at me.  Blush. Blush. Blush.  Let me remind you Mag is the blusher.
      I thought since Mag is doing her writing thing, that I would keep a little notebook of my thoughts.  You never know if she might want some of my reflections.
     There was a newness for me.  I had not known intimately any women in their sixties or older.  Not from any prejudice I was aware of but because of lack of opportunity.   When they first emailed me I was curious in many ways.   The stereotypes did rise in my mind.   What would their bodies be like.  Flabby, saggy, wrinkled?  Would they be moist enough, responsive?  Would they have white blue hair.  Dumb huh?  Well, honesty is important in meeting yourself and others so I want to keep my truths out front here.  It has turned out to be one hell of an experience.
     He was a gentleman and funny.  It didn't take long and I felt no age difference.  We were just two people having a great conversation.  It was really fun to see Syl blush from tip to stern when Jack nodded goodbye to her.
     We arranged to get in contact again.  But I thought he'll never call this old lady, he was just being nice.  It is a shame what our own images do to us.  I don't feel old inside.   Sure there are aches and pains.  Sure the image looking back is an older woman.  But I don't live looking at that mirror.  I live inside me playing in the world.  And that person inside is not an old woman or even a young woman, it is simply me.
     He called the next day.   Told me he really enjoyed the get together wanted to know if I really wanted to do it again.  It was nice he was not cocksure of himself.  My answer was so unlike me (no matter what Syl would tell you).  I said, "Would you like to come over for dinner?"
     "That would be lovely.  Can I bring anything?" he says.
     Well, some times the devil just gets in my head but I didn't say out loud what I was really thinking what he could bring which of course he had anyway.   Sometimes I just love my devilishness.  I am sure it is Syl's bad influence on me and Hortense is no help either mind you.  (Can you see the little smile on my face.)
     I couldn't believe she did it.
     "Mag, I can't believe you just invited him over," says I.
     "Oh, Syl, nothing's going to happen," says she.
     "Too bad, " says I.
     It is really fun to make Mag blush.
     I wanted to be a fly on the wall, for sure.  I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to be there.  Mag's apartment is not the Taj Mahal. I mean he had already nailed me in the coffee shop so it wouldn't work being the maid.  Well, in her little apartment it wouldn't work anyway.  So, I had to wait for the report.   Hortense came over and we waited.  I didn't share the fantasy going on in my head at the time but knowing Hortense I'm sure she wasn't far behind me in the fantasy department.
     I'll get right to it.  Yes, we petted.  He made my lips feel alive in a new way.  He had my lips feeling like other parts of my body where lips hadn't been in a while, in fact parts of my body where lips had never been.  Whew.
     And we talked before and during.
     "I am curious about your desires," Jack said.  He always seem to cut right to it.
     I took a deep breath.  "Syl and I wanted more than canasta.  We felt like we were put out to pasture, so to speak.  I think deep down this made us angry.  We thought we would try something new."
     "I am still curious about your desires," Jack repeated.  Most of us don't realize we don't always answer the question put to us.
     "Sex, intimacy, newness," I ventured.  "I'm 63, maybe have 20 years left to enjoy living.  Must I do it without sex?  The world around me seems to think so.  Nice little old ladies.  That's hogwash."
     Let me tell you that I am not sure when the kissing started during this conversation. Let me tell you that it was damn hard to concentrate on anything else.  Let me tell you there is fire in these old bones that burns pretty bright.
     Jack says back to me,"was Frank a good lover?"
     "Frank was my only lover," I said, surprised at my feeling of inadequacy.  It is strange to me how things have changed since all this experience.  Being a virgin, having only one lover, was a source of pride in my other world.  Now, it isn't bad it, just isn't a big deal.  In writing this it is hard to recapture, the way I use to look at things.  Maybe you won't feel the 'innocence' but it was there big time.
     "That makes this really an adventure, doesn't," Jack spoke into my ear.
     All we did was pet that first time.  I think he knew not to rush, not to challenge.  I was and wasn't ready for more and I think he knew that.
     We kissed good bye at the door.
     Most of the time my apartment is just right for me.  But now I needed a huge room or open field because I was going to exploded with newness.
     We sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee.  I wonder how many of the great conversations of the world have taken place with formica as the setting.
     If curiousity kills the cat, I'm dead many times over.
     "So what happened," I asked Mag.
     If unsatisfied curiousity kills, Mag was going to be dead.  She was in a daze.  I figured she had had one hell of a time and I wanted to know every juicy detail.
     "Really nothing.  We petted, I was insane with wanting, we talked, he went home, " she says.
     Hortense was crazier than I was wanting to know.
     "You let him out the door after just a little petting, I'd have jumped his bones," Hortense said.  She always has cut right to the bone.  (No pun intented.)
     Mag replied, "You guys just don't understand, you'll see."
     Now that was a curious remark, 'you'll see?'
     I have know no idea why I said that to Syl and Hortense when they were questioning me about the first time.  Maybe at some level we know more about the future than we know we know.  How could I have even guessed what was to come.  Those kinds of experience were not in my world.  I don't think I am any more or less prudish than the next person my age.  But some things just weren't done and only briefly considered if at all.
     So, Jack came to dinner again five days later.  He was open to going out but no I insisted.
     It is curious how you get from the living room to the bed room.  I don't quite remember if he took my hand and took me there or it was the other way around.
     He slowly unbuttoned my blouse,  lordy I was nervous.  As hot as I was I still worried what he would think of my old lady breasts.
     I knew we would make love this second time.  I knew that was why she wanted to get together at her place again.  I was curious what I would think about her body.
     Her bedroom was small and very pretty.  Not frilly but neat.  It was done in shades of blue.  There were family pictures on the top of a beautiful old oak dresser.
     Her body was pretty solid.  Many woman really work hard all their lives.  Their legs and arms are strong from lifting, carrying, tugging all the things that they do.
     I was sitting on the bed and she was standing in front of me.  Her breasts hung low with some freckles on them.  I lifted one and gently put it in my mouth.  I was surprised at how they got so hard so quickly.  Her moaning told me that she was very much connected to that hardness.  I played with each breast while running my hands along the back of her legs, up her back, down her butt and along the inside of her thighs.  She was still wearing her slacks but I could feel the muscles responding.
     Oh my, oh my I couldn't begin to describe that first time.  Actually I couldn't begin to describe many of the times.  He was actually enjoying my body.  It felt so incredibly good having warm, vibrant skin next to mine.  My breasts where so hard, they had a mind of their own.  I could feel his penis against my leg.  It was just yummy.  Would I have said that a year ago.  I don't know but I'll tell you it was just yummy.
     I really didn't know what to expect.  Well, I expected intercourse right away.  It didn't happen.  He slid down my body and gently put his mouth over my whole pubic area.  Embarrassed, shy, confused, excited (and yes absolutely nuts with pleasure).
     When I began to gently suck on her labia and clitoris, I could tell that Mag was nervous, maybe a little shocked or embarrassed.  I hadn't asked her about oral sex.  I hadn't told her how high a woman can get being given oral sex.
     Her lips and clitoris were slow to respond to this newness.  I think it was both the sensations and the experience that was new.  Later she told me that Frank would briefly, with out any knowledge put his mouth on her.  Many woman have experienced this sort of perfunctory vulva suck.  Okay there's the foreplay, now on to the real thing.  Oh, men if you only knew.
     He took me up.  I think if I had been expecting this I would have been far more constrained.  But he snuck it in on me.  No, I don't mean he was being sly.  It was clear that this was a natural way of making love for him.  But I just didn't have enough time to think about it and that was good.
     He took me up.  Right to some edge of pleasure.  At first I kept waiting for the boom.  The explosion.  But he took me up to the edge and held me there.  I have no idea what he was doing.  Oh, I knew where he was but some of the touches were so delicate, and everywhere at the same time that my whole body was an organ of pleasure.
     I settled into, not even close to the right phrase, this wondrous pleasure.  Then he reached up and squeezed my breasts, squeezed my nipples really hard and flicked his tongue hard and fast against my clitoris.
     I exploded.  I exploded.  I exploded.
     I was gone.  Lights, camera, action.  I giggle to myself.  I wasn't in my bedroom. I was gone.  I mean there was no me.
     What joy.  What pleasure.  I knew Mag had experienced something totally new.  I knew this was going to be a most interesting relationship.  There was so much more for her to learn.
     I was tired, sore and absolutely befuddled, bemused, betwixed, and bedeviled.  I was sore not from hard rubbing or anything like that.  I was sore from many wonderful, lovely, great, stupendous, overwhelming four hundred million contractions of pleasure my body had experienced.   Yes, very clearly I remember that first time.  And there was so much more to come.
     "Obviously you had a good time," I told the formless object that use to be my friend, Mag.  No, she wasn't a puddle on the floor, but she might as well have been.
     "Syl, you wouldn't believe."
     I love Mag, but I may kill her.  I have never been known for my patience and Hortense is worst than I am.  It was all we could do not to hold her down and apply ice cubes to her feet until she told all.
     "I can't really describe it.  It was for forever.  He was so gentle.  I simply exploded into a million pieces and I am not sure they are all back or if they ever will be all back."
     "What'd he do," I took a sip of coffee and prompted.
     "Oral sex mainly."
     "Yeah?" Hortense and I both said at the same time, moving forward to hear.
     "Oral sex," she says again.
     "Big deal," says I.
     "You don't understand,"
     And I didn't at that time.
     I knew Syl wanted to get to know Jack.  That's a thing about woman.  Good men are hard to find and we all want to savor the best.  In my watching life men want the best too, but more importantly they just want as many as possible.  Actually I knew Hortense also wanted to get to know Jack but for all her big voice she really was sort of shy.
     "When I can I meet him?" Syl asked.
     "Give me some time, it really hasn't been very long." I said.  And it hadn't been very long but it felt like forever.  I think when you get that high you experience another time or way of time or something like that.  Oh, I don't really know how to explain it.
     Jack and I met again.  It took a little longer to get as high as I was the first time.  I think I was self conscious about letting go so easily.  Jack was patient.  Most importantly it didn't seem like he had any expectations.  Slowly I let go of my worries and probably some hidden expectations.  An off I went to wondrous pleasure.
     Later he and I sat at the kitchen table.  I was curious what he would say to meeting Syl.  I was curious if he would be interested.  I was also, I admit, nervous.  Syl is more slender than I am.  I have always liked her body.  I don't mean she is skinny but except for the stomach bulge she was a woman in fine fiddle.  I was nervous he would like her more than me.  My stomach bulge spreads over a much larger hip span.   Oh, why do I go on about this.  Well, I want you to understand not just the extraordinary but the very ordinary way this all developed.
     "Syl this is Jack," Mag said when we finally got together for dinner at my place.  I have a house with more room.  I think I needed the comfort of home for this.  My territory so to speak.
     "Hi, Syl, we almost met before," he says.
     "Hi," I stammered.  I hate to blush and I knew I was.  And that damn little smirk on Mag's face, well.
     After dinner and some conversation that let me relax, we sat in the living room.  Mag on the couch and Jack and I in my comfortable chairs.  I felt more in control of myself.
     "Syl, is fascinated by my experience," Mag said.
     "What do you find fascinating, Syl," Jack asked.
     Ball in my court.
     "She has a hard time explaining, she seems to be in a daze afterwards.  Here's a woman married and sexual for over a quarter of a century and she is responding like a school girl on her first kiss."  Could see Mag blush out of the corner of my eye.  Ha.
     "Men can love their wives very much, but they don't know what they are doing in the pleasure department.  We put more effort into teaching people how to drive a car than we do how to give pleasure.  In fact, we don't teach anything in the pleasure department," Jack responded.
     "How did you learn?" I asked.
     "Books and paying attention.  I was lucky not to be given a lot of crazy messages about sex as a youngster.  I felt very free to explore."
     "I would like to learn," I took the leap.  Mag and I had discussed this.  She had shared her worry (we are really good friends) and decided what the hell.
     "I think that would be a lot of fun," Jack said.  "Should we get together soon?"
     'Yesterday was went through my mind' but I remained calm and we made a date.
     I just love it dear reader.  He knocked Syl's socks off to here her tell it.
     There is really more to say here about the whole experience.  I'm afraid you will have to take it in bits and pieces.  Not only is that how it came to be but that is how it comes back to me.  There is a lot I want you to know so you can understand neither Syl nor Hortense nor I simply went from the world we knew about sex and relationships to wherever we are now.  So it will come out.
     Jack was not just tongue, fingers and penis.  He was a fun man and at the same time very much a loner.  I say those two together so you understand that he liked people and he liked his private time and space.  He had many interests and it was always fun to talk.
     An interesting part of this was Jack was not demanding of his pleasure.  I mean we didn't yet have intercourse nor did he ask me to help him have an ejactulation in any way.  Well, the first time I couldn't have done much that required concentration anyway.  He told me that it was very erotic and satisfying to give pleasure the way he did.  It took a while to really accept that.
     When I say he knocked Syl's socks off, that is how she phrased it.  No matter what I told her I don't think she was anymore prepared than I was.
     I had always wanted an experience like the one that was unfolding for us.  I knew that I was skillful and artistic in giving pleasure because of a history of verbal and nonverbal feedback from my partners.   What was different was that here were some very lovely women that knew each other and were comfortable sharing their experiences.  I wanted to know where this would take us.
     For me there was a time when everyone became attractive in their own way.  I think this happens for many of us.  We lose the stereotypes that are promoted by advertising and I think we expand beyond just the nubile.  In fact what made a person unattractive was not physical.  Experiencing these older women's bodies in some ways challenged that way of seeing people.  Breasts sag, skin is not as tight and it is wrinkled, muscle tone is lost like on the inside of the thighs and in the arms.  I am not trying to make a list of faults, I want to share how my senses were learning about these new friends.
     My get together with Syl was really fun.  The woman really loves to suck dick.  I don't mean to be crude here, she really enjoyed my penis.   Some women feel obligated to pleasure a man and have little concept of their own pleasure.  And although I don't think Syl had experienced what she did that first night together her attention to me was from her own joy.
     She was fun to get high.  Her breasts are small and flat with age with nipples that point straight at the floor.  This was very erotic to me.  She was drier than Mag so I used a lubricant that I had brought with me.  Her pubic area was also balder than Mags.   Actually Mag had quite a bush.   And Syl knew how to let her pleasure flow out of her lungs in wonderful sounds.
     Syl's clitoris did not get real hard this first time.   This is very normal.  The body has to learn.   She had told me she masturbated but we all find a way that pleasures us and pretty much stick to it.  With me exploring and touching her in new ways her body was saying, 'oh my, now that's different, oh my, now that's wonderful, oh my oh my'.   So she really flew without achieving the full erection of her clitoris that would come later.  I just love this.
     Syl certainly had a good time.  I was really interested but I really am somewhat shy and reserved.  No one really knows this about me because I put on a good front.  There is another part of me that I hardly ever talk about.  I am sort of hairy.  Oh what the hell I am real hairy.  This didn't just come with menopause it has been like my size something that has been there since puberty.  I hated going to the beach and never wore shorts or halters.  My Billy didn't mind.  We were quite a pair.  Me big and him this wisk of a man.  He and my mother were the only people who knew about me being so hairy.
     I tried all kinds of things to remove the hair some painful.  I even tried hormones since the docs told me it was an imbalance of some sort.  Nothing worked except for the old razor blade.  Actually since Billy was gone I hadn't given it much thought but now it was bothering me again.
     When I say Syl said she had a good time, it sounded like she really had a good time.  I wish I could get past some of my shyness and these hang ups.  I wonder if they are connected.  Hmmmm.
     "He sure knows how to use that tongue of his," I said to Mag the next morning over coffee.  Our meeting of the round table except her kitchen table wasn't really round.
     "I still don't know exactly what he's doing," she replied.
     "Well, I thought I was going to scream my head off, good thing my home is well made.  Lord, knows what the neighbors would have thought." I said.
     "You made noise?"
     "What do you mean, 'I made noise'?  Of course I made noise.  It just comes out.  If you ride the roller coaster at Highstone Park you scream don't you?  Oh, stop.  I know you don't ride the roller coaster but you know what I mean."
     "I don't know if I could do that."
     "Look, why are we doing this?  For the four Fs.  Fun, fantasy, freedom and you know the last one.  Well, freedom is going totally with the flow.  That's not another F but it should be.  Going with the flow is total.  Just open your mouth and let it go."
     Jack invited me to his place for dinner.  His downstairs is one large room without walls.  It is rustic yet comfortable.  His upstairs is also one big room without walls.  It is his bedroom.  We got to there later.
     He is quite a good cook.  I was more nervous being out of my own place.  His bed was huge, one of those king size beds.  I loved it when he sucked on my breasts.  It seemed they had become more responsive.  Maybe it was the new place. Well maybe it was all of me because I certainly got high fast.  His mouth was all over my clitoris and lips.
     He had gently put his finger inside me before.  This time I am not sure what he was touching but it was pure pleasure.  Ripples of warmth, sensation were in my body.  Every smallest part of me was the warmth, the sensation and all of me was the warmth and the sensation.  I must have been there for a hundred years.
     The physical sensation was absolutely incredible.  A low moan was coming from me.  Jack put a gently pressure on my stomach with his hand.
     "Let yourself sing, just open your mouth and let yourself sing," he said, raising his head.
     The moan grew to a deep wail.  It had a life of its own.  It felt like my pleasure jump on that sound and rode it to the incredible.  I know I use that word and others a lot.  We don't have words for this.  It is beyond words.  You'll see.
     I was wonderfully and deliciously gone.
     Mag was going higher each time.  This is a learning.  With sensations this new and this intense the body learns, the body awakens to the possiblities.  At first there may be a tenderness to this newness.  A tenderness because these parts of the body do not know this touch and so easily gets fatiqued and over stimulated.  Soon the body awakens, becomes more sensitive and continues to open to the most delicate of touches.
     When Mag let her voice go from deep down inside I could feel, literally feel, her opening like a flower.  I knew that once she experienced this opening, she could return there.  She knew within her in ways far beyond thought.
     Syl came over a few days later.
     "So how was it," Mag asked.  We both were always interested, excited to hear about the other's experience.
     "Well, we read, we talked, then he tied me up and whipped me."
     "He what!"
     It is so much fun giving Mag a hard time.
     "It was a mutual decision.  He asked me what some of my fantasies were.  I told him one about being captured, tied down and ravished.  So he put soft cuffs on my wrists and tied my hands apart so they were free but couldn't touch my body.  He put a blindfold on me.  Then he played with me for a while touching and kissing here and there.  I never knew where he was going to touch next.  It was very exciting.
     Then he started stroking me with a cloth or something.  It felt like a lot strips of cloth going across my thighs, my breasts, wherever.  Slowly he increased how hard this fell on my body.  It was never real hard but I was just on fire.  Then he did his tongue and finger thing and I died and went to heaven."
     Mag was quiet.  I knew she was appalled, curious, but most of all turned on by the thought of it.
     Hortense was going to go to dinner with Jack on Friday.  I was excited to hear what happened for her.
     I didn't think I could ever do what Syl had done.  But then there are a lot of things that have happened that I didn't think I could do.
     It was going to be my time.  I was really nervous.  We went to dinner and had a nice time.  I kept wondering if people thought I was out with my nephew or even son.  Of course, I also wondered if they thought I was out with my lover.  Even though we weren't lovers YET, the idea that people might think that we were gave me a thrill.
     We went back to my place.  My home is smaller than Syl's house and larger than Mag's apartment.  Once the two kids scattered, Billy and I sold the old house and bought this smaller one.
     Jack must have sensed my nervousness.  We talked and necked.  He was very gentle.  The hair on my chest is a soft down.  He drove me nuts lightly running his hands over my breast just touching the hair.  It was so sensual.  I think he knew I needed time to adjust to it all.
     Hortense was real quiet.  I knew she was letting it all run through like she does.  So we all had had the experience.  Maybe I should put that in capitals and underlined.  I know now that surrender is the first step.  Not submission.  How do I explain this difference?  Submission is giving in.  Submission is not between equals.  Surrender is my choice.  In surrendering I am surrendering not to someone else, I am letting myself go, I am surrender to myself.  And that is all the difference in the world.
     When Syl talked about being tied and whipped or whatever it was she knew she would get me.  Was I really appalled?  Yes and no.  There seemed to be two me's in those days the old ways running on the surface and the me that was beginning to know more.  I was turned on by her experience.
     Billy was not a great lover.  But Billy loved me and that was more important.  I never really let him see my body.  I mean that is what light switches are for.  He would crawl under the covers, get that skinny little body between my legs and pump for all he was worth.  Sometimes I would play with him and just drive him crazy.  After we were through I just loved to wrap that little body up in my arms and legs.  Billy was always gentle.  Always kind.  And he loved me.  I miss him a lot at times.
     Jack was gentle too.  But in a knowing way that Billy had no idea about.  Jack excited me by the pure waiting of it all.  I think all women know there is a place we can go.  Ecstatic, that's the word, an ecstatic place we can go.  I wonder if men are afraid of that?  Jack wasn't.  And I was excited about it.
     This whipping thing really was something.  Of course, it really was not a whipping.  That's just what I called it to Mag.
     My head was just a whirl.  When Jack played with me in my fantasy, it was opening a door.  Fantasies that only got to sneak out at night, at those horny (yes horny) times started dancing around whenever they would choose.  I don't mean there were Jackions of them.  But I think many fantasies are fantasies because you are not suppose to do them or even think about them.  Well, the cat was out of the bag, so to speak.
     The other part of it is harder to explain even to myself.  There was a darkness about it.  Not an evil darkness.  Not even a being bad darkness.  It was like I was going into parts of myself farther than I knew what to do with.  It was different then the incredible orgasms from his tongue.  It was delicious, forbidden.   It was a secret no longer a secret.  It was fearful, exciting, joyful, and revealing.  Revealing.   I was showing to Jack, most importantly to myself in a way that I had never experienced.  Whew, did I have any idea what I was starting back then?  Is Mag able at all to catch this on paper so others will know?
     My body awakened.  During the day a trace of my ecstasy would return and I could feel it deep inside me.  I couldn't believe that I could have such an experience without touching myself or being touched.  I would be in a fog.
     Yet, when Jack took me to those high places it was new.  Oh, I knew I had been there with him before but it is so different from anything normal that when I wasn't there I could only feel a hint of the true experience.
     In all this time we hadn't had actual sexual intercourse.  I found that curious but believe me I wasn't complaining.
     Jack had done his marvelous work again and I was laying there wallowing in pleasure.  Good word wallowing.  No better.
     I turned on my side and started playing with his penis.  He was hard and he said to me, "Come sit on top of me."
     In that languid, wallowing state it is not easy to move.
     "Take your time," he said.
     I sat on top of him, his penis slipping inside me.  I wasn't tight, I wasn't loose, I was exactly right.  And my vagina grabbed his penis.  That is exactly what I mean.  My vagina had a mind of her own.  My hips had a mind of their own. The pleasure was almost intolerable.  And then I orgasmed.  My vagina was sucking on his penis, and sucking and sucking.   And I was gone.
     As I came back, he started flicking his penis inside me.  He wasn't moving his hips, but his penis was flicking inside me.  And it was touching something. Don't ask how he was doing it, because I had other things on my mind.   And I started again, sucking, grabbing, wanting.  God, I was going to die right then.
     As I came back, he was smiling up at me.  He gently moved me off and laid me on my back.  He covered my whole area with his mouth.  His breath was warm.  I think his tongue was just touching, I mean just barely touching, my clitoris.
     I saw a white light.  No, I was a white light.  And the white light had colors.  Colors that I had never seen before.  I basked in the light.   And in that light for a brief moment I knew the connection of all things.   Everything for one glorious instant was everything and one.
     I knew Mag had experienced something incredible.  Have I said that before?   Well, this seemed different.  Beyond the wonderful physical pleasure.   She kept talking about a white light, about colors, about God for Christ sakes.
     When Jack and I got together the next time my experience was totally different.  There are things in my life that I have not shared with anyone, mainly the part about my uncle.  I won't go into it too much here either but he was a son of a bitch.  When we would stay there he would get me in the barn.  Eight fucking years old and the fucker was messing with me.  I think my smiley aunt knew too.  Probably kept him away from her.
     I don't want to make this too down.  Actually the memories never went away but they were tucked deep in some part of my head.
     When I got high with Jack this next time, I was floating in a warm liquid of pleasure.  And all of a sudden there the SOB was.  Smelling of tobacco and manure, prickly beard and all.  And I was a little girl.  But somehow I was not only little but I was big.  And I told him to fuck off.  I told him I would put a pitchfork up his ass if he ever bothered me again.
     I was crying.  Not whimpering,   I mean serious crying from deep in my gut.  Jack didn't ask he just held me.  When I tried to stop crying he whispered in my  ear, "It must really hurt."  And I cried and cried and cried.
     There is more to this.  And the hurt returned more times.  Each time was a cleansing.  I learned how powerful that hurt had been.  I learned that for all my disgust that my body reacted and I had blamed myself all these years.   I will not go on but to tell you it was freeing.
     Syl just cried and cried.  I knew it was a great pain from the past.  Somehow the experience of such profound ecstatic experiences allows the past to come back.  Perhaps it is the surrendering.  Perhaps it is that ecstasy is so basic that all else sits on top of it.  I knew from past experience that we would return to Syl's pain more times.  A pain this deep does not just disappear.  But the young energy surrounding it can change and the person can feel the power of that change.  I was happy for Syl.  The experiences were very exhausting for both of us.
     Thought about what I wrote earlier.  I realized some idiot, to put it coarsely, could think that I was saying what some one with such wounds needs is a good fuck by the right man.  Well, that is not what I am saying.  Not at all. That approach is just more of the ego centered, power hungry stuff that was at the root of the betrayal in the first place.
     I am saying that we all have a healthy core. And that the essence of ourselves can heal us if we can find the sanctuary to free it.  What we were doing was only one of the ways of getting there.  And it has to be done without any expectations.  That isn't why we were playing.  We were playing for fun and joy.
     I didn't know there was such pleasure.  I just didn't know.  Billy would sometimes slip down there between my legs and do a few licks.  He thought this was foreplay and so did I actually.  He just didn't know.  I wanted him to do more but just never felt right asking him.
     Jack, he knew.   His tongue and mouth were everywhere.  First a warmth spread through my body, a tingling warmth.  I was aware of my toes tingling (I feel like giggling) then I lost the ability to know exactly where it all was because it was everywhere.  Somehow he was able to use his hand to fluff my fur (does that let you know I feel better about it now?).   This drove me absolutely into, into, into - you know I don't know how to tell you.  Then from the warmth another warmth rose up from inside that one, spread through me and I was flooded (in more ways than one and again I want to giggle).  Oh lord it felt good, oh beyond good.  I knew.  I knew from somewhere deep inside me that this existed.  And here it was.
     These things are private I know.  We usually don't talk in detail about our sexual experiences.  Oh, we'll say we had a good time.  But not the down and dirty details.  I don't know what men do in the locker room or wherever but woman are more interested in the connection itself.
     It is so different from anything we have ever experienced that Syl, Hortense and I started looking around the net.  We found Tantra sites but they didn't talk about what Jack was doing.  We found some lesbian sites but they were too clinical.  Then we found this little out of the way site.  It was about a book.
     The excerpts from the book on the web page seemed very much like what we were experiencing.  So we ordered one book.  Then we each ordered a book.
     Traveling the Sacred Landscape was fact and fiction.  It was the fictional story of an archaeological find of an ancient sex manual.  Then it was a very detailed description of how to give oral and manual sex to a woman.  Jack could have written the book.  There was also a lot on attitude.
     Until this experience I don't think either of us knew how important attitude is.   I mean we didn't even know we had an attitude.  What I mean by that is how we feel about sex, about pleasure, about our bodies, about expectations, about faking it, about parts of our bodies, about what a 'good' girl does.   Those kinds of things.  Well, of course, we all have attitudes.  And now I know mine had been in my way big time.
     Where did I get mine.  From everywhere.  From my parents, from school, from my mate, from my friends, from everything all around me.  I think kids today have it even rougher than we did.  Why?  Well, things were more black and white when I was younger.  Today, everything is confused. What is good, what is bad?  The kids are barraged from every direction with sexy stuff that really is just to sell something and has no meaning.  Oh, I don't want to get on a soap box here.  We have attitudes and learning about them can be real freeing.
     Have you ever read a book and said wish I had written that or even I could have written that?  Traveling the Sacred Landscape is like that.  I probably couldn't have written it as poetically but I certainly knew the different techniques.  Touchstone, that is the supposed author, did a real good job.  I was really happy the women had found it. The women were really enjoying it.
     I get so high when the woman I am with flies.  It is like there is a wave and I get up on the crest with her.  As she soars, I soar.  It fills my body but it is not an orgasm like an orgasm.  Does that make sense at all?  It is like my spirit is a very real, a substance.  This is hard to explain (have I heard the women say this).  I know my spirit is real at all times.  But when I am soaring on the woman's high, I am with her, I 'know' without knowing where she is.  My mouth and tongue know what to do before I can think it.  In fact maybe that is it.  There is no thinking just being although there are thoughts.  Well, I have probably confused things even more.  It is fun I can tell you that.
     I can't tell you how excited I was to try it all again.  I usually am pretty closed about things. But with Jack I felt freer.  Actually I could tell that was spilling over into my relationship with Mag and Syl.  That really felt good.
     This time we got together at Jack's house.  It was really very comfortable and easy.  Don't you think a person's home says a lot about them.
     The most incredible thing happened this time.  A streak of light or energy or warmth or even sound rose right up through me.  It started deep inside at the core of my womanhood and shot straight up through me and right out my head.  It was absolutely incredible, oh I said that.  It was like it or I joined with everything all at once.  It was not overwhelming, well it was overwhelming but not bad overwhelming.  Boy, if you think you are confused try being on this end of it.
     People must not do this very often or we would have more words for it.  More ways to describe it.
     When I was there, I was nowhere.  I don't want to say I was just existing because I didn't know about me at that time.  I was every feeling.  I was every color.  Are you getting any kind of picture.  How long was I there?  Forever.
     Then I started to have an orgasm and came back to a more "normal" place if having multiple orgasms can be called a 'normal' place.  Jack had his hand pressing gently against my whole pubic area and I was basking in gentle, flowing orgasms.  Somehow I knew he was doing this to gently bring back from wherever I had been.
     As I layed there wallowing in pleasure I told Jack slowly because my mouth didn't work real well right then about the experience.
     "People who meditate talk about such experience," Jack said.  "It seems very much connected to the mystical and spiritual."
     Although I write this like I was coherent that is not how my words came out, I can tell you.
     "Yes, it was religious or spiritual," I said.   "This is not what I thought about when I went to church.  Now I think I understand what Mag has been saying."
     "Did you learn anything that you can share," Jack asked.
     "I am not sure what you mean I said, but I can tell you everything is connected and there is a god."
     I think it is simply amazing the experiences that can arise from sensuality.  I understand and don't understand why it is not taught to each and every one of us.  Hard to control such an individual experience of god.  Hard to keep big institutions going if their sole purpose is acting as the conduit when the path is so simple, so enjoyable, so wonderful a sharing.   I really think they miss the point.  We need a place to come together and celebrate.  Those place have much to offer us.  And if we were to learn that such experiences are possible for all, and such sharing is a path for all, and no one can control it, maybe we would be treat each other differently.  Maybe we would treat the whole world differently.
     Would I have thought it would happen if you had asked me?  No.  A big no.  Not because it was bad but I just wouldn't have thought it.  No, that's throwing bull, I had certainly thought it,  I mean given the stuff with my uncle and all, but not specifically.  Sorry to confuse.
     I told you I wanted to be a fly on the wall.  Well, there you go.  It went even further than that.
     Mag and I went over to Jack's place.  Well, may I am getting ahead of myself here.  Yes, I am a little nervous putting this on paper.
     Back up just a little.  Mag and I had a conversation.  I told her about my wish to be a fly on the wall.
     "I have to admit I have been curious too," Mag said.
     "What we are doing is so erotic, yet when I am that high it is another world.  I am not really asking to watch, well, I guess I am but it feels so strange.  So exotic.  So forbidden."
     "I understand exactly what you are saying.  I would feel funny planning it, yet it is very erotic thinking about it.  Actually I mean watching and being watched," Mag replied.
     Little more was said but you see we had talked about it.
     Mag and I went over to Jack's place.  After dinner he asked if we would like to sauna.  We agreed.  Don't let me fool you, I knew this was opening possibilities.
     The sauna was just comfortable enough for the three of us.   Some people don't like to sweat, I do.  My mother use to say horses sweat, people perspire.  Well, she wasn't there and I was sweating.
     While we were in the sauna, Jack started playing with Mag.  It was like he knew I wanted to watch and knew I wouldn't be jealous or anything.
     He was gently kissing her here and there.  She leaned back.  He played with her breasts with his hands and mouth.
     I was totally hot and it wasn't the sauna I assure you.
     He went down her belly and was gently licking her pubic area.  Mag was quietly groaning.
     Jack suggested we go to the bedroom.  Mag walked in a wonderful fog and layed down.  Jack had her right back up there and higher.  I watched my dearest friend in such ecstasy.  I think I was the wettest I have ever been.  I was sitting on the bed next to them.
     Jack reached over, took my hand and put it on Mag's breast.  It was hard and soft all at the same time.  Her nipple was beautiful, the color was a deep brown and it was contracted to a great hardness.  I loved the fluidness of her full breast.   I put my mouth on her nipple and gently sucked.  Mag moaned and touched my hair.  She knew and she wanted.  I took small nips and her nipple and she moan even louder.
     I don't know when it started but a wail of ecstasy began to grow out of her,  I felt her whole body shudder.  It was like Jack and I were connected because both of us slowed and lingered and the same time.  Holding up there riding her wave.  I had a sense of what Jack so enjoyed.
     Our pleasure was one and we layed there holding each other.
     I am glad I drove.  I don't think Mag could have.  Designated driver sort of.   It was simply, without a doubt, erotic.
     Syl is my best friend in all the world.  The next morning I felt strange and elated and strange and happy and strange and yet okay.
     She had touched me.   She had sucked my breasts and it had been absolute pleasure.  It is curious to think that when your eyes are closed and you are receiving oral and manual sex where does gender come in.   I mean Jack and Syl could have exchanged places, would the pleasure have been different?  Well, maybe but only because it was different people.  I mean who were we hurting, what makes it wrong?  Am I trying to justify?  No, I am trying to understand.
     Well, that experience was wonderful.  All the experiences so far had been wonderful for each of us as far as I could tell.
     I know Mag.  She'll make everything real rosy.  And yet for the most part it was.  But we are human and we have bad days.  And we have petty whatevers.  So there were times of tension.
     Jack was a part of the problem.  He really liked his time and space alone.  So he wasn't always available.  Or he would cancel a date.  Didn't happen a lot and I really don't blame him, but damn.
     I think each of us was so amazed, so enthralled, so curious about what would come next, and yes, so hungry after years if not a lifetime of drought that, well, we weren't always patient.
     I remember trying to talk, to con Mag into letting me see Jack because he had cancelled one of our get togethers.  Didn't work and of course I survived.  I don't want you to get the idea that we were hooked or crazy or any such thing.  It was pleasure, it was fun, it was curious, it was exciting and well damn, you would be wanting to do more of it too.
     Actually, this time, I agree with Mag's nicey, nicey approach.  You can learn all about the stressful, tension filled, darker side of us humans with very little effort.  So, singing our praise in the way she is probably doing it is an important effort.
     Having the experience of the energy shooting up and out of my body was simply amazing.  Something changed in me.  I felt a greater peace about many things.  Before the experience if I had been honest with myself I would have admitted a real wanting to have these sexual meetings with Jack because they felt so good.  Now, I looked forward to them but I was more self contained if that is the right phrase.
     Jack invited me to his place.  We ate and had a sauna.
     I noticed that the everyday thoughts and experiences would slip away far more easily with each experience of this wonderful sensuality.  I think my body had learned that there is a wonderful song out there to sing and was now ready to sing it at all times.
     This experience was new again.  And somewhat frightening.  Explaining it will not do it justice but it was amazing (yes, I know I use that word a lot.)  And I don't know how to tell you about it without it sounding, um, hokey.
     I went to the white light.  Maybe I haven't mentioned that before, I can't remember, but there is a place of beauty and connection that is like all colors and is brilliant.  Mag has also had the experience.  Since my flowing in the ecstasy has become easier, I go to this place after the everyday stuff has washed away.  I say go because there is a sense of moving, of traveling.
     From the white light, I went to a place I will call the place of waters.  I was looking into a pool of water.  Then it was like just below the surface of the water I could see my sister.  She was sitting on the ground (which is very unlike my sister) and trying to arrange these rocks.  She seemed frustrated and upset because the rocks wouldn't go where she wanted them to.
     That was all I saw but I can tell you I was in a state after that.   I didn't just come flying back but when I was back I was very confused.  I told Jack about it.  He suggested that I might need to call her and check out how she was doing.
     I had not talked to Carlotta (my mother had a thing for names) for three months.  When I called and asked her if she was alright she was amazed.  I was amazed too. Carlotta who has always had everything in order and never shows what's going on was in a snit.  To make a story that really doesn't matter to the tale of us women short, she said her life was in an absolute mess and she couldn't seem to get anything in the right place.
     Well, now (here's that word again) that was amazing both about my sister but far more importantly what I had seen when in that ecstatic place, my place of waters.
     Mag and I got together at my place for dinner.  Jack had gone on a trip for a week and Hortense's daughter was visiting.
     We drank some wine, talked and explored Traveling the Sacred Landscape the book we had gotten from the internet.  It really was instructive.  I, for one, really didn't know my body as well as this book was teaching me.  The book is very erotic.
     It was getting late, which is to say around 10.  That's late for us older folks.  If you happen to be younger and reading this, you'll see.
     "Mag, why don't you stay over.  There's some snow out there, you've had some wine, and I have that queen sized bed.  I would feel better if you didn't drive."
     "If it's no trouble," Mag replied.
     I gave Mag one of my night gowns but she is a bigger woman than I am.  It was uncomfortably tight, so she climbed into bed with just her panties on.  Before settling in to sleep,  I kissed Mag on the back of the head, she was curled up, hugging a pillow turned away from me and said, "Mag, I really love you and am so glad you are my friend."
     I am not sure how long I had slept before waking to find myself cuddled with Mag.  Her back was still to me and we had slipped into what people call a spoon, my body outlining her body.
     Her warm back against my chest was lovely.  Her bottom and thighs, bigger than mine, gave me an aching.  My arm was around her.
     I touched her breasts, she let out a moan and moved against me.  With my hand open I let her hard nipples tickle my palm.  She moaned more.  I kissed her hair.
     "Oh Syl," she said turning on her back.
     "Sshhh," I said as I ran my hand over the warmth of her body.  I propped myself up on my elbow, there was some moonlight coming through the window and I could see her body in pale white.
     She was moaning.  I could smell her heat and it was delicious.
     I leaned over and started licking around her nipple.  It was hard and crinkly like the first time.  I stroked between her legs, slipping between her legs as she spread them wider for me, her panties felt very smooth and sensual.  I slipped my hand under her panties and started gently stroking her bush.  My finger easily slipped between her lips, she was wonderfully wet.
     I started kissing down her body.  She grabbed my head.  This stopped me dead.  But she pulled me up, kissed me lightly on the mouth and ever so gently pushed my head back down on her body.
     I took her panties off.  She spread her legs and I moved between them.  What an incredible experience.  What textures, what smells.
     Her lips were in full bloom, her clitoris hard.  I used just the tip of my tongue to move from her vagina up to just below her clitoris.  She was moaning from deep in her body.
     Still with my tongue very pointed I started circling her clitoris.  Her hips started a rocking motion.  I could have stayed longer exploring but I knew Mag was ready.
     I held my tongue steady so she could move against it at her pleasure.  Her body started to shudder and I covered around her clitoris with my mouth and just so lightly put the tip of my tongue on it.   I could tell she was flying, I was flying, I was wet, I was high, I was flying with her.
     I crawled back up into the spoon.
     "Thanks, my friend," she said as she drifted away.
     There are so many ways to think and feel about what happened with Syl the other night.  Everything I was ever taught sad this was wrong.  Actually, when I think about it I don't think I was actually taught this.  It was more like it was in the air around me, that nice people didn't do that sort of thing.
     Well, I'm nice people and Syl is nice people and we did do THAT sort of thing.  Geez, that sounded angry.  Well, maybe I am.  I just don't get it.  I mean who did we hurt?  Perhaps someone's sensibilities.  Or their belief about what God wants from us.  Well, it didn't offend my sensibilities.  And I now have a different understanding, better experience, of God now.
     Here were two people who care a lot about each other, caring alot about each other.  If Syl gave me a back rub or rubbed my legs would that be wrong?  You know, it is that attitude thing again.
     Enough of that.  It was luscious.  Her touch was so different from Jack's.  Her hand are smaller and so delicate.  Her mouth, lips and tongue felt wonderful.  It was so loving.  She, of course, doesn't have Jack's experience.
     (oh giggle, we could work on that.)
     Let's get right to it.  It was wonderful.  I want to do it again, I want the experience, I want to learn.  You got a problem with it, don't read it.  But I bet you did read it because it was beautiful and sexy.
     Let's take it a step further.  We, women that is, out number the men at this age.  And to add to that a mature male that really cares about a woman's pleasure is a rare bird indeed.  So, who said I had to be a nun, nothing against nuns, that's their choice.
     Our partners die, leave us for another pasture (notice I didn't say greener). Just what are we women suppose to do?  Forget about sex for the last twenty or thirty years of life.  Right!  Support the electric tool companies forever.  Hardly, I mean where is the warmth, the caring, the skin, the smells (ah the smells), just where is all that.
     Would I prefer a man, hell, right this minute I really couldn't tell you.  What I can tell you is the "rules" gotta change.  There are not enough men (especially one's who know what they are doing) to go around and the other option given us is cruel and inhumane.
     Hmmmmmm.  I just had an idea.
     Some of the pages are gone.  I really am sorry.  It happened when a cat, a cup of coffee and a phone call came together while the sheets were laying on the kitchen table.  Now I have it all on computer and yes, it is backedup.
     Hortense had several of her 'water' visions.  It is amazing to me that she can see these things and that they have meaning.  It is even more amazing to me that we can do this, humans that is.  I wish there was somewhere I could go, the net, library, somewhere that would explain this.  If we are able to get this kind of knowledge, I don't know why we don't use it more.  Hortense, of course, has thought a lot about this.
     The sensual experiences are out of this world.  It is just so incredible for my body to give me so much pleasure.  That doesn't even come close to giving you an idea.  When I am so high, there is no body, there is no anything but the electricity of it all.  There almost always is a little piece of me that is aware of me.  At times it is a hint and the rest is out there.
     Then when I add the experience of the water visions, I am floored.  These experiences give information that I don't know where it comes from.  I have learned to not go there if I don't want.  Well, that is not quite true.  Some times I go there before I know what is happening.  But now I know how to back out and go to the white light.
     Sometimes I just don't want to know.  I don't want to know some of the pain I see in the water visions.  I don't always understand what they mean but sometimes it is clear that it is not happy stuff.  Jack and Syl seem to have an ability to figure out what they mean. Maybe some of us are visitors to the place and some of us are interpreters.  I just don't know.
     Well, I had a most interesting experience the other night.  Oh, that is too mild and it was simply beyond my understanding.  Much of these experiences have been beyond my understanding.  Of course, I don't mind going along for the ride (I say slyly).
     I was in the light, reveling in the colors, and then I was beyond it.  I felt like there were a million of me.  Well, that is an exaggeration but it seemed like how you look in mirrors that are opposite each other in a beauty salon and you can see your image over and over again.  Well, that is what it was like.
     Except that each of the images was just a little different.  At first it was scary, like I didn't know if I would come back to here.  I wasn't sure where here was.  It was almost like if I went to one of those images my world would be changed.  I wasn't sure how much, whether it would be a lot or a little.
     When I came back, Jack could tell I had experienced something different and we talked about it.
     Mag once again had an amazing experience.  I am constantly blown away by the places she and the others 'go'. Their experiences seem so real and Hortenses 'water vision' appear to have truth in them.  Reality is obvious much larger than what we experience in our everyday world.
     Mag seemed to experience the possibility of many possibilities, many universes.  I know there is a theory in physics about that.  (The mathematics is way over my head) The theory seems to say that when we are connected to our world then we solidify one of the many possibilities.  Since most of us are usually connected to our world all the time we do not jump around in the possibilities.  Mag seemed to have found a place where she experienced a lack of this solidifiation, where all the possibilities were manifest.
     This is too deep to understand with words and that is probably why those physics types created mathematics that only a few understand.  But that she could see that place is simply amazing.
     I had another of the water vision experiences.  I was drawn to it and decided to let it occur.  We, women were sitting in a circle.  We were facing outward, we were holding hands and it seemed we were at the same time throwing strings or cords out away from the circle.  In the center of the circle was the white light or at least a very brilliant light.
     It is so curious to have these experiences.  They are very powerful and I think can be a very helpful tool for people if we could learn to use them.  The other women seem to have experiences that I don't, like the one Mag just had.  So I wonder what makes each of us connect in our particular way.
     How the hell did we ever end up doing all this.  It is simply amazing.  If it was just the pure pleasure of it, that would be stunning.  Add to that the experiences that are other and it truly is amazing.
     That we experience this spiritual white light, that Mag finds multiple worlds, Hortense invisions deeper parts of us, all of this makes this very, I mean, very powerful and important.
     Am I getting too serious about this.  You are damn right.  Here we have explored this wonderful way to play, to learn, to connect with each other and ourselves.  And l look around me at the sadness, the abuses of each other, the rape of the earth for something to do and I am on a mission.
     Okay, you ask, "Syl, what is this great abiding mission of yours?"  Hortense saw it in her last vision.  We women casting out to the world.  Okay, okay, I'll get to it.  I think we should start training people in these wonderful experiences.
     There is a selfish piece to it.  Jack, is wonderful, yes; but I don't think we should put all our eggs in one basket (no pun intended, besides at our ages we are far beyond that).
     So between the mission, no make that capitals - THE MISSSION and the self interest, it is time to reach out and touch someone giggle.
     She's at it again.  Lord, now she wants to start a school.  Should we call it The Tongue and Touch Academy?  Hortense thinks it's a great idea.  Me, well, truthfully I got've Jack and Syl and I am perfectly happy with that.  But I do see her point as much as I hate to admit it.  I think the world would be a better place if more people knew about this the sensual joy and the spiritual within each of us.  And there were wonderful ways to achieve it.
     One of the things I realized lately with this idea of a school floating around was something that slipped by me.  Jack, as mentioned in the beginning, sort of slipped up on me.  I mean I wasn't ready for his wonderful ways and I wasn't ready for the experience itself.
     What I want to say is that I don't think many women are comfortable receiving such pleasure.  We somehow get told early that we should give pleasure.  Oh, we might enjoy it but that is secondary and accidental. To simply lay back and surrender to such pleasure is a new experience.  I think it might be easier if it was a massage but when it is connected to sex it goes against everything we've have been taught. I mean in many ways we are told that if we do enjoy it there is something wrong with us. Maybe the younger generation is different but somehow I don't think so.  This is so sad for both women and men.  There is so much that both could share.