(SR) The Scented Sutra II: Coition
The SCENTED SUTRA
PART TWO
COITION
Our desires left no stage of lovemaking untried,
& if love could devise something new, we welcomed it
Peter Aberlard
FIRST KISS
My boys, to win her lust is half the fray,
Time ripe has turn‘d to let thine arrows loose,
A well-timed kiss-surprise can paralyze,
& if reciprocal passion express’d,
There’ll be but little rusing for the rest,
But saying that, lads, kissing’s passion-pact
Is quite impossible to engineer
Unexpectedly, but only sooner
Than she thought you would; but if it’s at hand,
Let eyes in languish trembling souls connect!
‘Consummate our mutual attraction,’
Exchang’d between two psyches in silence,
Did you hear a symphony of rivers?
Or angels harmonizing harpsichords?
Or more some slab-corpse groaning in a morgue?
Deem best lips beseeching like soft cushions,
When nimble tongues love’s lesser lightning play;
If, in her mouth’s temple, you’ve been welcom’d –
O! ballet dance! O! battle of the tongues -,
In, Venus, steals on silver saliva
ON KISSING
Kisses! these easy messengers of love!
Kisses! these pearl thermometers of love!
Kisses! Love’s celebrated overture!
Beyond the goo & mess of lipstick gloss,
One million nerve fibers congregate
Upon her lips; when sensualities
Erupt, they’ll swirl like whirlpools of pleasure!
Nipping soft lips with gentle tugs of teeth,
Then slipping teasing tongues within her cave,
(Such stimulants of penetrating flesh
Shall simulate another pair of lips),
A seismic kiss shockwaves can scud thro’ souls,
Left smitten at the Gates of Paradise,
Two lives entire converge upon the point
Words urgent flow ‘twyx vulva & member,
Urging upon each other to explore
More corners of this garden of delights!
But don’t forget my Scented Sutra, son!
Secrete it secretly amidst thy things
To study in between her ravishments!
ON A WOMAN’S LOVE OF COITION
Coition-thirst ejecting with long sighs;
Between her thighs, where wanton mind resides,
Her vulva’s given to the one she loves,
This lock no other man could ever prise!
But if no fellow earns this gorgeous lust
She’ll casteth gasping gazes to the winds
Of chance & karmic fortunes, ‘til she spies
A man she might just love, her lust enslav’d,
& lays a trap, & if her prey ensnar’d,
He’ll soon be in her bed, that could be you –
You’ll sense it, too, the moment that you’ll feel
The coming together of hemispheres,
For knowing if a man desires her depths,
Spark’d by the comfort of being in love
Genitalia arousing, at last
Ceremonies of love’s temple begin
Her vulva’s nirvana awaits you both,
Yes you, her manly high priest, thrusts divine
Beam laser sensualities of love!
Such is, such was, such will be, woman’s want.
ON THE ART OF GREATER FOREPLAY
All patience is rewarded, understand
Beneath ice maidens rampant sirens lie
Anticipation now is everything,
Are you the one to make her sex-dreams real?
Let’s focus on the prize, then, heed my words,
All women somewhat like a clockwork toy
Transporting sex from great to oh-my-god!
The more you wind, the longer runs the joy!
A clitiris is not an isle of Greecian!
But well before this nuclear device
Unleashes inner tigress, tease & press
The dress around her heavenly portal;
Suck lightly on her neck, blow in her ears,
Then, nibbling lobes, disrobe her as you go!
Easing the nylon wisp which veils her charms,
On navels lavish delicious kisses,
Titillate the lower parts, biting thighs,
Go on until she is ready to swoon,
Can scarcely stammer, & her eyes are veil’d,
Then let her see your lingam, fully-grown!
ON WOMENS’ EXCITEMENT AT SEEING THE LINGAM
The happiest hankerings of women
Are that for members when them full on heat,
To see one rising underneath thy robes
Will make them lose their senses, when reveal’d
The joy upon seeing beautiful darts
Stood throbbingly erect shall make them swoon,
Astonish’d at its size, action-ready,
The noble column of thy thighs implants
A yearnful force, she’ll give herself to thee,
Pleasure-desperate in her deepest parts
Where moisture flows, forerunners of passion;
My lads, my happy boys, go rub thy bead
Against her vulva’s lips, & watch them part
& seem to say, ‘O member, enter me,
Please penetrate my plump deliciousness,
I want it done in all those precious ways
Thro’ splendid action, first from front to back,
Then right to left; now surely, soft & slow,
Now ramm’d in hard by vigorous pressure,’
Such are the thrills that fill her filthy mind!
ON THE CONGRESS OF THE MOUTH
When holding lover-lingams by the hand,
She’ll place its tip between her moisten’d lip;
If kissing gently all the flesh expos’d,
Call this the ‘Congress of the Butterflies,’
& when her roving tongue sent out to roam,
From tip to base, this is the ‘Rite of Snakes,’
& lastly, with the yearnful man’s consent,
She’ll put his full-length lingam in her mouth,
It’s point deep-pressing hard against her throat,
This call’d the ‘Congress of the Crocodile’;
Now, lads, to kiss the yoni goes like this,
First place a pillow beneath her buttocks
For comfort, raise her passion-mound to meet
Ye tracing laces oer vaginal lips,
Then cunnilingual ticklings send intense,
Deliver’d by a candle-flicker tongue
Whence by her spasms, her jolting stiffness,
Her gasp of death, you’ll understand she’s done;
Not quite, of course, her yoni’s fully prim’d
For penetrative pleasures deeper still!
ON THE CONGRESS OF THE OCTOPUS
Softening the tensions from her lovezones,
Place your palm just underneath her navel
With deftest pressure energize her parts;
Caressing her inner vaginal lips,
Gently insert two fingers & rotate,
When, with a deft flick of her clitiris
You’ll hear her sighing pleasures to the Gods
Releas’d in liquid silvers, pubic bone
Pushes up to meet you, begging for more;
Then add your tongue, lick & tease her nipples,
Now suck them hard within thy gallant lips,
Your other hand expertly massaging
Her neck, her breasts, her bottom, & her thighs,
Hot rushes flood, light-headed, breathing wild,
Son, tweak a nipple with a snap of pain,
For now’ the time to find the threp’ney piece
That is her sacred G-spot, little sponge
Of Heaven, hook & beckon it to you,
Placing your thumb upon her clitiris
& squeeze them both together, then she comes!
ON THE MEETING OF LINGAM & YONI
My fit & eager lads, my lustful boys,
Life grants us one unquestionable treat,
Made party to the swirling cosmic dance,
Think of yourself a High Priest of passion
& naked, aching females thy temple,
The altar is her yoni, when arous‘d!
Stok‘d by the balmy brinks of ecstasy,
Hesitate no longer to assist her,
Whose busy hand thy throbbing member guides,
Clutch‘d tightly by her wet vulva’s entrance,
Thy lingam presses thro’ her flower bed
& with a thrust penetrates that furnace,
Where, lodg’d within, completely, hear her yelp
In pain, tho’ pleasure really; interlace,
Her limbs with yours, bring kisses and claspings,
Then, visiting her vulva with your spear,
Speaking the animal language of love
Do not miss the corners, ceiling, nor centre,
Face-to-face in lotus style, side-by-side,
On top, behind, on chairs, or she astride!
ON THE UNION OF THE PARTS
The swelling member hare forms, bull, or horse,
A woman’s yoni mirrors such wildlife –
Deer, mare, elephant, according to depth;
This renders six unequal unions,
‘Tis high if man exceedeth her in size
& highest if her size the most remote,
Likewise ‘tis low if woman exceedeth,
& lowest if she elephant, him hare;
Magnetic pulls of passions & desires,
Now from three species; small, middling, intense;
Tis better to enjoy the carnal act
With one who shares your sexual vigour;
Finally, three kinds of men and women
Divided, are, by volcanic timing
Erupting into climax; some short-timed
Some tim’d moderately, & some long-timed;
In all seven hundred & twenty-nine
Kinds of lovers, of these just eighty-one
Match timing, size, & passion, ensuring
Delectable soirees with your darlings!
ON THE CLIMAX
If foreplay perform’d to full arousal,
Satisfaction shall feel like perfection!
You’ll hear it, son, there is no sweeter sound!
Her muscles tense, she panting like asthma,
Uttering those cutest little noises,
The time’s come to stroke her, offer phrases
Of gentle encouragement, guide her home,
& when her voice confesses deep rapture
Begging you don’t hold back, maintain the pace,
Or gallop even faster, like a knight
Whose solid lance has pierc’d her very heart,
Her body quivers, releasing rivers,
Of energy smashing thro’ the chakras,
With nipples stiff, erect on swelling breasts,
At pleasure’s crisis, gorg’d vaginal lips
Shall grasp & tug thy phallus, with a gasp
& twitch of muscles, hear her scream release’d
Lip-bitingly as enters, she, Heaven!
Then let her rest in excuisite pleasure,
But only for a short while – why stop there!
ON THE CONQUEST
Stand up! Your naked glory is at hand!
A vision of her Heaven sprawls below!
Led back, a lazing lioness, unrob’d,
Your woman’s voluptuousness reveal’d
Discarded clothes concealing, once, divine
Spread scatter’d in a warpath to the door,
Like garlands to her temple, worship there
The spirit of your sexual desires,
That she has manifested is rested,
For we have done our holy work down there!
Her eyes clos’d in the mortification,
Fallen the faunicating fortitrice!
On her face thy chronicle of conquest,
Is written in her breathing & her bliss;
Imagine this planet as a garden
As once it was afore even Eden
Was lost, scent floating gracefully on air
From gorgeous pompom blossoms, there she is,
Made prettified & fragrant in her bloom,
& so, well done, my sons, you listen’d well!
ON THE EUPHORIA
Beautiful maiden-blossoms of the world
Watch the boys abuzz about thy petals,
Half-mad briven by his thirst for honey
Flitting among thy inflorescent hues,
Ye younger bees, permit me, as pilot,
To summarize didaction in a song
There’s love & there is the Scented Sutra
Before you find the first, I strongly urge
A studious account of my verses
For I have made a woman touch herself
In those soft places – secet, soft places –
All thro’ her life after a single tryst
Each monumental moment I admir’d,
Their bouncing bosoms, their waterfall hair,
Beckoning my gallopings of pleasure,
When, joyous, with all senses overcome
By something close to godhead, & the dawn!
Singing thy sonorous song of triumph,
They rested on my chest; then, dismounting,
Lay down beside me, panting, in a pile.
Mumble Words 