Guided Meditation

A Sexual Fantasy

— By Irene

It was 7 a.m., an ideal time to meditate. Irene turned on the soft ambient light beneath the ceiling fan and unrolled her yoga mat, placing it directly in front of the wall of windows, so she could watch the world awaken, while settling into a state of mindfulness. The early morning mild temperature fondled her skin, as Irene opened the slider to welcome any stray breezes that might want to flutter up against her. No one could see into her walled compound, (or so she thought), so Irene sat unclad, cross legged, on the mat, in front of the aperture in the wall of windows. Eyes open, she straightened her spine and arranged her hands in the way of the Buddha, her left hand resting on her left knee, palm up; her right raised at the elbow, palm out: "Do no harm; take no shit." Just as Irene had shooed the last intrusive thought from her consciousness, a movement startled her out of her reverie. A figure, dimly outlined in the rosy dawn, was ascending onto the roof of the house that was under construction directly beyond the compound wall she sat facing. His movement was in tandem with the swirl of air that caressed her clitoris and inflamed her desire. He faced away from her, and Irene could see his right hand move to his front; unzipping his pants--to relieve himself, she thought. But suddenly he turned and faced her, his erect cock still in his hand. Mesmerized, Irene watched as he slowly, rhythmically worked his hand up and down his burgeoning member. “He can see me,” she now realized, but she was paralyzed in place. As if entranced, Irene’s left hand moved effortlessly to her clitoris, its hood already drawn open by her lotus position, exposing her most sensitive and vulnerable treasure. Similarly, her right hand found a nipple and gently pinched and pulled it. Then Irene saw him freeze and knew she had been seen. Dipping two fingers into her wet vagina, she moistened her clitoris and coaxed it erect with little circular motions. He continued to watch her, but now resumed his task, more vigorously now. His precum glistened in the early morning light, and his legs began to visibly weaken as he neared completion. Irene, too, was ready for release. At the moment of climax, he fell to his knees in supplication, and Irene gave herself over to his ecstatic entreaty. Afterward, he descended from the roof and was gone. Irene waited until her orgasmic spasms subsided, then stood up slowly, taking care not to slip on the slick puddle of her juices that had dripped onto the yoga mat. “I must share this encounter with Sebastian during our next time together” she mused. It was going to be a bright, bright, sunshiny day.