The Calm Before The Storm [MF]

Stuart Zinzan Wilcox – that name Zinzan only ever
seems to appear in a couple of families. The Wilcox family were one. He was turning fifty-five shortly. Had I seen a lot of him since he returned to the area almost two years ago? Not really. We caught up but it was usually at family gatherings. He was a busy man with his business Hot Stones booming all over the country. He was called upon to be an authority on things such as massage of all kinds. He was quick to stress that the tantra stuff was not all about being erotic but the freeing and relaxation from within. I believed him too. I had seen him on TV several times explaining exactly what the yoni and lingam were and I would sit there with my
mouth ajar. I actually visited him at least twice a week but it was purely for a bog standard body massage. Such things were becoming increasingly important as I started to stress out about the book launch. He suggested I come over and get out of the environment of home.

Home was busy and intense. It was the empty nest syndrome. Dynamics changed when it became an
almost adult only household. We were suddenly allowed to be free. Walk around naked, kiss passionately in doorways and blowjobs in the shower. To me, it felt dangerous. I knew the status quo would be temporarily interrupted by the publication of my second memoir. It was far darker in tone at times. My life between 1985 and 1998 went screwy.

It just so happened to be his birthday in a few days.
Three months out of his last relationship and a bit lost.

*“I cannot remember the last time I was alone with you in this fashion. It almost feels like we never had a career together.”*

*“We did and it was seventeen years ago. Been thirteen since I last worked with you on our
thing…and you know what, I am slightly annoyed about it.”*

*”Why?”*

*“Back towards the end of 1984, I kept saying it had a shelf life. That was only because I knew Tracy wanted to go back home. I didn’t think it would have worked if we had to work via distance. But by then, Storm already had his claws on you.”*

*“Do I detect jealousy?”*

*“Yes. Put it this way, I believed we could have gone further and really cemented ourselves at the forefront of the electronic pop movement. But he from day one really wanted to do his own thing. I love The Missing Minx. I really do. It was a fantastic outlet for you and allowed you to step back in time a bit with the voice you used on “Call Me Back Again”. But one of my big regrets was
stopping what we were doing. I don’t know if we could ever reclaim that glorious run. All those Wilcox/Tune songs topping the charts and appearing in teenage music magazines and Top Of The Pops. Storm and I didn’t always get along. We were like two squabbling brothers at times and I conceited defeat somewhat in 1985. That last album was way more flavoured with Cook
than Wilcox and Tune.”*

*I never detected such animosity. How are you two now?”*

*“We are fine, actually. We haven’t had huge rifts or anything but we couldn’t quite agree on who
had a handle on you first. I do believe I was the first to call to arms. Well, maybe Stephen but then it was me. I feel like I still had plenty left in me. I still do. But I am too old for a pop music career now.”*

*“Age is a number, Stuart. You are still as talented. Your hands especially so. But you are still as sensual and attractive as always.”*

*“Stephen doesn’t mind that you are over here…”*

*“Is that right?”*

*“I said to him I want to get you out of the house for the night. He knows, I know…the book is stressing you out. I have faith that Jamie has the damage control ready if required. But you are worried it makes you look bad. You said the same about the first book and was it worth the worry? Well, in a way it did work in your favour. So many things have gone in your favour this last year and you should be excited. Lucas Botham is the star of the West End. He speaks to you in those rich baritone notes via the phone, long distance calls. Twice a week, you take turns to arouse each other via web cameras. Stephen told me all about it because he finds it one hell of a
turn on. So do I.”*

*“I feel like everything will change once the book comes out. I swear Lucas will spend all night reassuring me all will be fine. I hope it will be. I am excited about seeing him. I am very fond of him.”*

*“I know you are and it is very sweet and promising. Now how about I make us some dinner and let tonight go where it needs to go.”*

News of Storm and Stuart banging heads was news to me. I could not have suspected it and I felt quite sad that Stuart did believe we had more in us. Circumstances can be unfair. I had before me a delicious meal that was to be followed by birthday cake. Indeed, as we got stuck
into the cake and ignored the trick or treaters, I thought about his business. Hot Stones was an empire specialising in multiple forms of massage. Swedish, Thai, sports and of course, the actual hot stones. That and the yoga classes were the G rated side of stuff. It got a bit more R rated with couple’s sex therapy and also teaching and providing tantric massage to both men and women. Stuart, in reality, hadn’t done the hands-on thing for a while. If anything, normal massage was his everyday bread and butter.

*“When did you last provide tantric massage?”*

*“Not for many years. 1989 was probably the last time. I haven’t taught it since then either because my demonstration model is no longer with us. With Tracy gone, I passed the role onto someone else. Now we have a lot of teachers and providers. Not all Hot Stones do it.
The one I do my normal stuff at…just down the road from here…does the tantric as well. Just not the teaching, I did the therapies for a while too but I found it a bit hard when I was having issues with my own love life. Why you ask?”*

*“Would you still remember how to do it?”*

*”Of course. For me, it was like riding a bike. I still remember the day I first came across it. It was Tracy who did it to me. The lingam massage. It was a whole new world for me. I wanted to learn how to do that. How to make other people feel like that.”*

*“Would you do it to me?”*

*, Of course, I would.”*

*“Why haven’t you before?”*

He smiled broadly. I knew I had ignited something in him.

*“I thought you’d never ask.”*

*“I knew you wouldn’t just do that. But I do want to surrender to you. It is not just because I want you to touch me. I feel messed up and tense. Suppose you could blame it on the fact I feel a bit seedy know what I did in the last fourteen years.”*

*“Just wait here, I am going to run the bath. I have a ritual for this and I may struggle to remember the order of things. When the bath is ready, I will come and get you. I will help you undress and we can begin.”*

I hadn’t gone over there with an expectation but I was genuinely interested in why he made
certain decisions around life. I found Stuart to be forever fascinating. He was like any of the Wilcox family I had met. I had met them all. The two uncles Rob and Quentin. The aunts Martina and June. The nine cousins. The eighteen second cousins and there was a light smattering of third cousins because the second cousins were just starting to get married and what not. They
were all extroverted, intelligent and creative with a certain “something”. Next thing I know, Stuart had returned. Taking my hand, he lead me to his ensuite with a sumptuous bath scented wonderfully. He lifted my dress off and there I was in a lace bra and
panties.

*“I hate saying this but that is a beautiful set. Did Sam design it?”*

*“Of course.”*

*“Feels a shame to take it off…it is that internal struggle of mine. The body is a temple and the yoni is to be respected. But I also have things I know I am attracted to and things I find arousing. Well, I did always fancy a sexually dominant woman wearing lace. I admit I didn’t offer this because I wanted to keep spiritual and sexual apart. But I cannot in this case.”*

He unhooked my bra and slid my panties down my legs. I was as bare as the day I was born, bar the slave collar I wore on an almost permanent basis. I didn’t have
to take it off, it was waterproof. The gentlest of water jets as he had the loofah and the water cascaded aromatic suds over me. I hadn’t been bathed like that since 1981. I kid you not. The last time was when I was in labour with Violet. Having a bath and someone wash you just didn’t occur to me…there was nothing sexual about it but I couldn’t resist having nipples go stiff. The background music was most pleasing. I suppose Enya could be a cliché but my god, it works

>If all you told was turned to gold

>If all you dreamed was new

>Imagine sky high above

>In Caribbean blue

*“I almost feel like I could sleep. I feel a lot less tense already. I am glad you could be honest with me about that dilemma you face when confronted with me.”*

*“Better out than in. Well I hope I sufficiently cleansed the soul there. Come along now, the bed will be most inviting.”*

He was not wrong. The room had a hazy glow from slightly dimmed lights. So I lay down, slightly propped up with my legs apart and knees up. Now that kind of position is not too dissimilar to the one a woman has to get into when having medical stuff done. I hated the fact it turned me on way too much. I was not trying to see this thing that way though.

*“Now be aware, I am not perfect at this anymore and it is probably more sexual than I perhaps would have had it back in the day. Orgasm is not the aim, it is a pleasant side effect. Now you with those beautiful blue eyes. Look at me, and keep looking at me. You helped me with my
sexual healing all those years ago. It is your turn now. Granted, things have been far nicer for you of late. The last Minx record was very playful and I enjoyed it a great deal. That music video for “Crush”…there you were in this girly pink lingerie set. I love that. Then there is the fact you are out there at the premieres and award ceremonies again. The world really needed to see you
smile again because it is a smile that shatters glass with radiance. There is Lucas, who puts a spring in your step that you almost cannot believe he is into you. He is, trust me! Soon, you will live out a fantasy you have had for many years.”*

*“So will I still have a damaged and tense yoni then?”*

*“Well yes. Some people did some fucking horrible things to you. They violated you. Physically, emotionally. People who are the definition of ‘pot calling kettle black’. Someone, in particular, comes to mind. She berated and belittled you to the gossip magazines. Yet she was making plans of her own, equally disruptive. You never trashed her even though you wanted to…match your
breathing to mine, lover.”*

Rhythmic breathing and eye contact were cornerstones for this sort of thing. The oil he had smelt divine. It was a hot night so the scent was particularly strong. I felt it drip all over me like some glistening waterfall, as some seeped between my legs. It then became alluring. As his
hands worked the oil into my body, I could feel muscles unwind. I was transported back to a memory I had forgotten about. The year was 1979. I was seven months pregnant with Sapphire. Jamie was to my left and rather fond of one of the girls on the stage. Seth looked on in
wonderment as his friendship with someone on the stage was ever increasing. My eyes were all over the place. There was my best friend. Someone I had met the year before. The big love was commanding the stage and close by, was the shorter almost identical brother. He kept beaming in delight at me and I admit, I was rather taken with his impassioned keys playing that night. I
have seen photos from afterwards. Here I was standing between the two brothers, and there was this feeling of belonging there.

He kissed me. I hadn’t expected it and at first, I was not sure how to kiss him back. Then it turned rather passionate. Oh, I knew how to respond. Again, I ended up being transported elsewhere as his hands continued to knead me like delicious dough. Oh yes, bread. The loaves were fresh on the set of a music video which marked the most controversial moment in my
career. Oh, I did love the red rubber gloves and underwear and the thigh high boots were wonderful. All dressed off with a shifty Darren Pine dress. The end of the shoot did involve hands running along bodies and a kiss at the end. The kiss was intended to be passionate.
What I hadn’t expected was for it to be so damn enjoyable and it made me feel guilty.

I was almost embarrassed by my stiff nipples. My eyes were on him. It was almost enough to make me want to get up and run but by the same token, I was falling into the deepest of bliss. The oil was worked into my thighs as he ran a finger between my lips. Not the lips on my
face…it was the slowest of manipulations down there. My mind again drifted into another memory I had forgotten. 1987, and we were in Hawaii at the A’a Estate. The sessions for what would become “Sway” were loaded with tension, romance, alcohol and kava. One evening I
partook in the kava with Stuart and Tracy. Both talked about massage and how it could be used. I took the knowledge I learnt and took it back to the bungalow. Let it be said my boobs gave me pleasure that night. I then thought back to 1993. It had been a night of drugs and drink and I ended up with Stuart in my bed. In the morning he sensed my hurt and comforted me.

*“Kitty, if you need to cry, do so.”*

So I did. I had read somewhere it tended to be a highly emotional experience. I just let the tears run. Circular motions around my clitoris. His movements were perfect in that it was enough to heighten the pleasure without getting me too close to the edge.

*“Are you comfortable, lover?”*

*“I am.”*

*“Do I have permission to enter your yoni?”*

*“You do.”*

I felt two fingers slip into me and explore the yoni. I did feel tense and tight and not in a good way. He spread his fingers, sweeping the walls of my pussy to work away at the tight spots. I was warned at times it would feel uncomfortable. It did…just for a wee bit.

*“It is not just the stress of violation that has left you with a tense and worried yoni. It is that you
carry so much guilt about the things you do. We wouldn’t do this if it was not within the confines
of acceptance. So why not let it just wash away.”*

The fingers curved upwards towards my G spot. Holy crap…I was way too self conscious of the mess I was making and it was damn hard to keep the breathing steady and maintain the eye contact. I felt the unmistakable urge to go to the bathroom. I became almost fearful of him speaking lest I boiled over.

*“Do I have permission to enter your backside?”*

*“Yes.”*

It was almost as if his hands were perfectly designed for this. His little finger slid into my ass. I have never tried so hard not to just orgasm right there and then. I managed to sustain the waves of pleasure for the longest time. Trust me, not easy when you are looking right at one another. I could no longer remain silent. Glad in a way he didn’t have close neighbours. A hand on my lower belly, checking my breathing via the womb. Breathing that was becoming increasingly erratic.
It was like every muscle fibre snapped. I shook so badly, I thought I was going to come off the bed. No words to be said. I crushed his fingers with the strength of the orgasm and I watched in glee as I squirted him in the face. He giggled as he slowly removed his fingers and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe himself.

*“Thank you, Kitty. You know when I used to teach this, Tracy never did that. To see a woman ejaculate is pretty special. it was considered bad form to get an erection whilst doing so. That never happened to me until today. With you, I was very good at not seeing it as a sexual thing.”*

*“No, thank you. That was wonderful. You were respectful.”*

*“Now I am not supposed to feel like I just want to fuck you so bad straight afterwards. But I do. At one point I thought I was going to cum through thought alone.”*

*“You are out of practice?”*

*“No. May I?”*

*“Of course. I need to feel you in me, Stuart Zinzan Wilcox.”*

No sooner had he put the rubber on, I found myself straddling his legs whilst sitting upright. Advantages to Stuart included the fact he was shorter than the others. Made some positions a lot more achievable. I tightened my muscles around him in a rhythmic wave. Again, we
maintained eye contact. His hands were all over me, feeling every peak and valley. My back arched as we grew ever louder. It felt like diving into an endless pool when we hit orgasm. I suppose it could be said it ruined the experience. Oh, sod off. It was perfect.

I woke up in the morning to the sound of the stereo in the lounge.

>Holy Mother of God

>You’ve got to go faster than that to get to the top.

>Dirty old mountain

>All covered in smoke, she can turn you to stone

>So you better start doing it right

>Better start doing it right

“Dance On A Volcano” by Genesis, I recognised the song. He returned to bed. I was in no hurry to return home. I could hear the trees swaying and the birds singing as the sun filtered through the curtains. I needed the peace before all hell broke loose once more.

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