The Talking Monkeys: Prelude to the Evening

Kali stood in front of the mirror as she dried herself, as if taking inventory of her assets. She carefully studied the effects of the light on her soft, curvy form. How she looked from different angles, or from over her shoulder, twisting her torso, and of course, playfully bent over, looking backwards at herself in the mirror from between her ankles, face upside down, her hair dangling and swishing at floor length. Kali was not so much vain, as playful, and because of that, her actions were unselfconscious on a certain level. Yes, as an adult, she knew how to photographically catalogue a particular look, or pose, based as much on how she liked to be seen, as what worked for her admirers, her lovers…and for her fans. She stood all of about four-foot-thirteen and a half, but her figure was so…imposing by virtue of the exaggeration of her features, that each curve in her body seemed to call attention to itself, while contrasting its neighboring feature at the same time. She was childlike and whimsical, and had learned to be unabashedly unselfconsciously forward and precocious, if that word can ever be appropriate for an adult, and the fact that she kept every square inch of her body smooth and hairless further added to the illusion.

She raised her arms above her head, and giggled as she watched her large, round breasts levitate and swing slightly as she intertwined her arms that seemed to give her head a hug, nuzzling the skin of the inside of her upper arm, looking coyly at her image in the mirror. Whether she was frolicking like a fawn, or spreading her thighs, she could be both the ageless, shameless Goddess and the naughty vixen at the same time. Part temple prostitute, part Catholic school girl Lolita, part dirty country cousin, wise and innocently curious, she was all women at once. Imagine your Yoga instructor in crotchless panties, or the first girl that ever showed you her goodies behind the garage, under the porch, or in the tree-house or fort you had just built. Her complexion was a light mocha, and she had that nebulous sort of ethnic look that could as easily been Israeli, Arab, Italian, Greek, Slavic, Spanish, East , West or American Indian. Her face, like her body was a study of barely controlled generosity. Her cheekbones were high, and her face, including her nose, was just long enough to balance her large, disarming eyes. Her eyes were so dark that you could not tell were the pupil ended, or the iris began, and her lashes were long and dark. Her aureoles were large, puffy… dark as baker’s chocolate, and her nipples were so large, they looked to be erect all the time, but even the slightest tactile sensation would make them engorge and stiffen until they were as big as the first joint of your pinky finger. She had those National Geographic Titties you couldn’t take your eyes off of whether you were a fourteen year old boy pretending to read “the articles”, or a bored adult in the waiting room of the doctor’s office (doing the same thing). Her thighs and calves could not contain any secrets about her muscle tone as they swelled and receded accordingly any time she walked, or even shifted her stance. Despite her softness and roundness, she was very athletic and strong and gave the impression of a large feral cat, waiting to spring upon her prey. She was a study of contrasts and contradictions that seemed to change like the fluid landscape of the sea. There was a timelessness to her that balanced the Primal against the Refined, as well as the Sweetness against the Salt. She could be No Woman at All astride Every Woman who has ever been, or ever will be…Tonight.

Her lips were full and inviting, and if she smiled at you, she could make you forget your own mother’s first name, and maybe even your own….

And tonight, along with other anticipated functions, those lips would be telling the two most important men in her life of news she could barely contain, it excited her so. Her web site had finally gone viral…amidst a seemingly minor storm of controversy, and it now looked like The Sanctuary was so secure for funds that they were going to have to enlist the assistance of some serious financial and legal advisors.

A little over a year ago, she had decided to start up a website devoted to esoteric and spiritual eroticism. Throughout her life, she had devoted a great deal of time and effort studying what she had dubbed “Sexual Anthropology” comparing and contrasting the Culture of Lovemaking around the World, including a special interest in the erotic arts. From the Venus of Willendorf  to Japanese Pillow Books or Persian and Turkish illustrations of Karezza texts, as well as a fair amount of Study of modern erotic art, including film and video, she had studied with the diligence of any serious-minded academician, except that she refused to be any more serious than was absolutely necessary, and sometimes, a great deal less. Her childlike playfulness was a cultivated art form she had developed the longer she pursued her studies.

What she had found to be most disturbing was the fact that although ancient erotic texts were revered and venerated, albeit somewhat apologetically, (at least among the academicians who knew about them in the first place) they were esoteric and occult to the zeitgeist of modern society, and even more scarce were the few worthwhile modern practitioners’ offerings.

“Its time to take Sacred Sex into The new Millennium and the Internet is just the thing to make that a reality, both practically and financially, and I believe that I can do it in a way that is authentic, spiritually and technically. It has to be genuine…the work of practitioners rather than actors, and devoted to the pursuit of the High Art of Lovemaking while still remaining essentially licentious, lewd, explicitly sexually stimulating…True Pornography minus the stigma.”

Her plan was to link her site to any reference to anyone’s version of Sacred Sex of one sort or another, as well as established types and genres of Modern Eroticism as Art, and providing still photographs of recreations of ancient erotic art and Sacred Sex to full-blown documentary style video depictions, even branching into live webcam performances, although she almost buried it away from common view, as if you didn’t know what to research, you wouldn’t be very likely to find it, and if you did, the website home page would only hint at what lay inside (i.e. you had to be able to read). And make it expensive, almost prohibitively so, to discourage all but the true believers, at least initially. The real question was if there was a large enough demographic of affluent intellectuals and connoisseurs to support both the site, as well as the Sanctuary. It had been a big gamble that had paid off handsomely.

Kali now represented the new face of Sacred Sex. Only she, Ash, and Merle had even dreamed of the power they had learned to unleash thus far, and tonight was to be a renewed awakening of the Sacred and Pagan Rites…the ways of Majic and Love to be used for Good Only…White majic and more to summons primal energies and spirits, a mingling of minds, and energies from the four winds, the four cardinal compass points, the four elements, the four seasons, the heavens above and the earth below.

Tonight, Kali would be not only the face, but the Altar herself.

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