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Fireworks
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Subject: REPOST: Fireworks.I (Hyper-Sex)
Reply-To: [email protected] (NJPSYCH)
Date: Sun Jun 25 16:34:21 1995
FIREWORKS
Monique was an artist, half French and half Czech, born and
raised in Prague. Mike was currently employed as a salesman. They
had met at the beach during a Fourth of July weekend one year
before, and almost immediately they had fallen completely in love.
This was also the Fourth of July, exactly one year after the couple
had first met. They were spending this night in a hotel in
downtown Manhattan, the first stop on their way to London for a
well-earned vacation.
Mike and Monique were sexual adventurers. They were looking
forward to this evening with special anticipation; for they both
knew that the most important sexual organ of all is the human mind
-- and tonight, they were going to use a new technique called
hyper-empiria, using suggestions of mind-expansion and enhanced
awareness to raise sexual responsiveness to its highest possible
level.
That evening, after they had their showers and put on the robes
which had been graciously supplied by the luxury hotel in which
they were staying, and they lay down together side by side upon the
bed. The robe was loosely tied and did not completely cover the
curve of her full, round breasts, nor hide the dazzling whiteness
of her skin, which always reminded Mike of a porcelain china doll.
Monique lay completely motionless upon the bed, with her eyes
tightly closed, as she prepared to receive his suggestions, and her
breathing had become noticeably more shallow than before. "Now,
you can just nod your head, if you're ready, and we'll go on into
hyper-empiria, to a night together that we will remember all of our
lives. Are you ready to go into hyper-empiria now?" Mike asked.
Slowly, she nodded.
Mike could see that her complexion had grown slightly pale,
while at the same time her cheeks appeared to take on a faint, rosy
hue. "She's responding already!" he thought to himself. He could
feel the stirrings of desire as his mind raced ahead to the
suggestions he was about to give, and to the evening which lay
before them.
Speaking slowly and deliberately, and taking plenty of time
for both of them to fully savor each word and phrase, Mike began to
pace the wording of his suggestions to match the rhythm of her
breathing.
"It's a wonderful feeling of release and liberation which you
are experiencing now, as all of your vast, untapped potentials
are becoming freed for their fullest possible functioning. .
. ."
He continued giving suggestions like this for several minutes,
and at the end of the procedure, he concluded,
"And while you remain within hyper-empiria, everything you
experience will be intensely pleasurable, and each of these
new experiences will be greater and more profound than you
ever thought possible."
Then he kissed her tenderly on the mouth -- a long, lingering
kiss, as she pressed her body close to his.
The Fourth of July fireworks over the East River had begun in
earnest. He asked, "How would you like to go to the window with me
and open your eyes, and see the fireworks?" Monique nodded
eagerly. "All right, but just keep your eyes closed for now. I'm
going to guide you, and we'll walk to the window. I'll open the
blinds, and then when I get to the count of three you will be able
to open your eyes and take in the beauty of it all." Then, with
Mike holding one arm around her waist to guide her, they began
walking slowly over to the window. Monique was making soft, barely
audible sounds from deep inside her throat as they walked, pressing
her firm breast into his side with each step. When they had
reached the window, he reached over to draw back the curtains,
without stopping to turn out the overhead lights, as the scene
before them was so brightly lit by the Manhattan skyline and the
fireworks display above it.
Mike often liked to word his suggestions using "we" instead of
"you," to enhance their effect still further and to enter more
freely into their effects himself. As he prepared to shift his
suggestions to plural wording, he told her:
"Now, I'm going to count to three. When I get to the count of
three, you will be able to open your eyes and look out and see
the city and the fireworks -- and it will be one of the most
beautiful sights we have ever seen in our life. And as we
watch the fireworks together, and hold and caress each other,
each kiss, and each caress will set off little explosions of
joy deep within us, that will grow and grow with each passing
moment, until it will feel as if every muscle, and every
nerve, and every cell in your body is exploding with joy, and
passion, and desire.
"One, two, almost ready now -- three. Now you can open your
eyes -- and what we are about to see, and all that we are
about to share together, will become a memory which we will
treasure forever."
They were on the twelfth floor. Even without the expectancies
generated by Mike's suggestion, the view of the fireworks display
over the Manhattan skyline was awe-inspiring; but Monique stood
transfixed and said nothing.
"How does it look?" Mike asked.
"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed in a voice flooded with
emotion, as she continued to drink in the scene before her.
"It is beautiful," agreed Mike. "And it is a memory which we
will carry in our hearts forever." He gently took her into his
arms and they began to kiss. As their kiss continued, he reached
down and loosened the belt on her robe and quickly did the same
with her own. Then, still kissing, he lifted the robe off her
shoulders, as she momentarily freed her arms from his embrace and
shrugged it all the way off. His own robe quickly followed, and
they stood there quietly embracing in front of the window, their
bodies illuminated both by the lamps within and by the city lights
and the fireworks outside. Monique was making unconscious, barely
audible sounds of pleasure as she pressed her soft breasts against
his chest, clasped in the firmness of his muscular arms.
Her breath was soft and warm against his neck as they
continued to kiss and to embrace. He slowly ran his fingers
through her long, flowing, chestnut hair, which reached well over
her shoulders and lay in stark contrast to the creamy whiteness of
her body. Gradually, he extended his caresses along the full
length of her back, finally ending each one by lovingly running his
fingers over the firm roundness of her buttocks. And all the
while, he continued his suggestions, speaking slowly in a whisper,
with long pauses in between.
"Each touch, and each caress of my hand, is setting off little
explosions of joy deep within. . . . Each kiss, and each
caress, will make us more sensitive and more responsive to the
one which is to come after."
Mike could feel her begin to tense and quiver beneath his
hands, as he gradually began to time many of his caresses to match
the exploding fireworks outside their window -- playing her body
like an instrument, as she trembled beneath his touch while he
continued his suggestions.
"And soon, our whole bodies will be vibrating with joy and
desire -- until we feel as if we are being dissolved into one
vast wave of ecstasy that will go on and on, until our entire
being explodes with joy, more profound and more intense than
we could ever imagine. . . . And if we lived a thousand
lifetimes, we would not be able to experience a fraction of
the joy, and the ecstasy, and the love that is ours to share
together now, in these golden moments."
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