It was the summer of 1994, and I was with a crew of capable guys from the North Dallas office in Montréal for 10 weeks of intense training in our highly specialized fields of expertise. The company put us up at Le Montfort at 1975 De Maisonneuve W, in the Ville Marie Westmount area of town. I was fortunate to score a fully furnished 1 bedroom efficiency apartment on the 23rd floor, with my balcony facing the Saint Lawrence River. Being the team-lead, it was no surprise that I was in this spectacular apartment with a stunning view of the area. I immediately knew that this was going to be a memorable time of my life, and I planned on taking advantage of all this modern city had to offer.
I was perfectly situated in this delightful city, and only one block away from Rue Sainte-Catherine W, and the most exquisite shops and dining in the area. With $2000 of Canadian currency in my possession from a $1500 travel advance in United States dollars, I was ready to train hard and play hard for the duration of my stay. I was the only guy that had Canadian currency in my pocket that I brought in from the states, so when we arrived at our quarters, I divided up what I had with the 9 other members of my shadow team operatives, so that all of us would be cash solvent. They paid me back eventually once they understood the ATM exchange rates and made bank withdrawals the next day.
At night, after a long day of work, I would often hit the streets of Montréal solo, which was my usual routine back home in Dallas and New York City. I never operated well with a wingman, so I headed down to Rue Sainte Catherine on-foot, heading east, and found a charming old-school bookstore, The Argo Bookshop at 1841 Saint Catherine W. This was a university town, and McGill college was not far away, so I was in a fantastic diverse crowd. I entered the store and made my way to the English literature section to see if they had a Seamus Heaney collection and other works of interest. I became instantly laser focused on reading book titles, and started scanning the bookshelves moving slowly, albeit with tunnel vision, when I suddenly bumped heads with someone who was moving right to left in a semi-crouched position while scanning book titles, because I always move left to right when searching for books, and I was slightly crouched too.
It sounded like two hollow coconuts clashing mid-air, and I heard a feminine, Ouch! I looked over to my right side, and found a gorgeous, 5-foot 4-inch, Québécois natural blond beauty, with luminous, back-lit, light-green eyes, with the complexion of a L’Oreal cover-girl. She was holding her head, and giggling with such sexiness, that I forgot my own head was spinning. She was wearing a sweet pair of El Dantes boho-hippie floral black leather clogs, and on her right ankle was a flawless solid-gold and olivine-peridot studded bracelet, with diamond chip surround accents that caught my attention. Then I noticed her fabulous Louis Vuitton Coussin shoulder bag in taupe monogram leather that offset her lovely blond locks perfectly. This lovely woman instantly induced a sense of comfort and familiarity in me, and a knowing that I could not presently comprehend.
My sight quickly apprehended a perfectly fitting pair of dark blue Jordache jeans that were cut off to short-shorts, and hugging her perfectly shaped buttocks. A visual delight to behold was her exquisite private area, complete with a fold and a crease that would stop traffic at rush hour in any city. I discerned a delightful Bill Blass halter top adorning her perfect shoulders, and a pair of firm size 34B breasts, which were braless, and pointed directly at me. Her neckline was luscious and adorned with a flawless olivine-peridot gemstone necklace in 14K gold, and highly appealing since it matched her luminous eyes perfectly. I surmised a flat and well-developed abdomen and estimated her dress size to be a petite 5. I detected a lovely bouquet of Chanel perfume, with a splash-blend of Atelier Materi by perfumer Marie Hugentobler of Spain, and baby; launch sequences were fiercely activated within me stirring a passion that I have not previously known.
Her shoulder length free-flowing blond hair had a natural sheen, and delicious curves, that no hot iron, or hot curler could ever achieve. This woman was eclectic, orgasmic, divinely feminine, girly-girl, youthful, vivacious, and cultivated in every way possible. Her natural make-up free complexion imbued youth, fertility, and health, which invoked an instant passion, and fierce sense of conquest in me. I put my hand on her left shoulder, and asked if she was all right, and she said yes, and my hand made its way slowly to the small of her back, and she leaned into my hand while we looked into each other eye to eye, and I moved closer by stepping into her intimate zone. The lovely perfume bouquet wafted merrily into my sensory field, as did her natural floral scent secreted by this lovely human flower in the humid Montréal summer air. Multiple sensory inputs overtook me, and I felt as if time was standing still.
She placed her hand on my head where we had bumped, and pursed her lips as if to say, “I will make this boo-boo go away,” and in an instant we went from a violent head-butt to intimate closeness and touching. The experience was surreal as we introduced ourselves by sharing our names, which led to small talk explaining how I got to the city, and what I was doing in town. Claudia Cappella frequented this place, and many stores in the area, and as we wrapped up our interesting introduction, she was sure that we would meet again soon, and I hoped we would too. She told me about several places that she regularly frequented, suggesting that I come and find her one evening, and I took that cue and committed it all to memory. We said our goodbyes and went on our way into the lovely and perfect Montréal summer evening.
A few days later, my crew and I were almost into our second weekend in Montréal, when early one Friday evening I got this wild itch, a crazy incessant desire as my loins swelled. You know that feeling of passion that wells up from the depths of Tartarus out of the blue. I decided then that I needed a “tune-up” before going out later that evening to Le Dôme discotheque to enjoy some music and dancing in peace, without feeling incessantly horny. I had purchased the local English newspaper earlier in the day, The Gazette, and made my way to the personal section on the back pages and found a random ad that caught my eye and satisfied my intuition. It was about seven o’clock in the evening, and I made the call, dialed 9 for an outside local line, then (514) 942-9160 from my towering suite above the city, and spoke to Madame Élise for a few minutes. I introduced myself and described what I would like to experience, and she explained the rates, and 30 minutes later the front desk called explaining that I have a visitor. I gave the OK for her to come up, and moments later, a knock-knock came at the door!
I was no stranger to procuring the services, of what came to my apartment door that evening. As a young teenager, and even earlier than that, I was quite sophisticated with my wants and desires for women. The local schoolgirls just did not have what I truly wanted and needed, and I was not in the “in-group” that would allow me to cherry pick the finest girls. Being an avid reader from the early days of my youth, I always gravitated to periodicals like Penthouse Forum, a magazine of stories and graphic writing that allowed me to build a private universe of my own, but I also loved good literature, and well-constructed adult love stories with deep and complex plots. I read the masters of poetry and prose, adept at the arts of luring women into their sensual abodes, and noted all their advice by the time I was 13. From a young age of 3, I had an eye for the feminine mystique, and the appropriate physiological responses normally reserved for pubescent males!
Even as a 10-year-old boy, I always gravitated to older women and attempted to make moves with them, and get after them mightily, as I had a powerful sex-drive from an early age, but no “scores” were obtained with them until age 14. By the time I was 16, I found myself in Manhattan in the general area of Park Ave and 38th Street, where the best houses and the most attractive women roomed. I never hit the street girls, only bawdy houses, and high-end situations that were safe and guarded. I had money saved and was an avid little hustler, which allowed me to make my soirées at least twice per year. I partook of the finest women thanks to the help of much older friends who led the way and kept me safe. On this particular Friday evening in Montréal, 11 years had passed since the last time I visited with a delicious high-end escort, so I was quite excited to see how this would turn out. The knock-knock came again, and I opened the door wide, much to my delight.
Standing in front of me was the loveliest 5 foot 4 inch Quebecois natural blond-beauty, with light green eyes, and the complexion of a L’Oreal cover-girl that I had seen since my encounter at the bookstore. And then it hit me like a diamond bullet between the eyes. It was Claudia! Our eyes opened wide in absolute surprise and awe at the same time. I thought to myself, how could this be happening? It cannot be, but how? But it was her, the lovely Claudia Cappella, and this time she was wearing a delicious white, Dolce and Gabbana, floral print-front button romper, with an adorable pair of Patrick Cox Wannabe loafers, and that same flawless solid gold and olivine-peridot ankle bracelet with the diamond chip accents. A smart, black, Coach, top-handle, side-satchel purse topped off her presentation. We both looked at each other for a few seconds in shock, and she was holding her hand over her mouth, and giggling in disbelief, and I was beaming head-to-toe, with a wicked smile, while all kinds of crazy thoughts went through my head, my heart racing the whole time.
She asked me if she could come inside my apartment, and I just grabbed her, pulled her inside, gave her a hug, and shut the door. We spoke for two minutes while standing in the vestibule, both of us completely shocked, and she seemed kind of embarrassed, and I assured her I was so thrilled to see her. I pointed to an envelope on my desk and told her not to worry about anything, and she quickly made the safe call back to her agency, starting the clock, and we talked, relaxed, and unwound. Claudia appreciated the ambiance of my apartment, which was adorned with the most exquisite candlelight provided by hand pressed, and colored scented candles, and other adornments. No corner of the apartment was dark, and the bathroom had the perfect candlelight luminosity. Bottled water, fine liquors, and handmade chocolates were available, and my featured music selection was Madonna’s Bedtime Stories CD that had just come out that year. I had gone shopping two days before this soiree to acquire the tools of “my” trade, anticipating such a sultry evening.
About 45 minutes passed as if it were a minute, and we were still talking, which I enjoyed, when Claudia leaned in and kissed me, showing it was time to make a move. Shortly after the icebreaker closed-mouth kiss, she was back on the phone with the agency, speaking in a lovely French with the Québécois dialect, and seemingly with ease, increased our time with no problems. I understood that I had extra-time, and so I quickly decided that this encounter would hopefully be one of many, and that Claudia would be my summer love for the duration of my stay if possible. My plan was to flip the script, and offer her pleasure, but completely withhold my own as a way of capturing her attention and creating genuine burning desire in both of us. Claudia began to undress, carefully folding her clothes, and I followed suit, leaving my tight, new, red, white, and blue Tommy Hilfiger closed-leg premium limited edition boxer briefs in place.
In the shimmering candlelight glow, Claudia exuded a perfectly tanned body that I labeled as “toasted-almond delight.” This wonderful melanin-rich skin tone combined with her natural blond hair evident in all its glory, and in all the right places, highlighted her unique light-green eyes that became as flawless as a pair of 3 karat, peridot precious gemstones that were magically back-lit from a source deep within her, and radiant as a full moon in August. Her smile and her prominent golden-lavender aura radiated a welcoming that was unlike any prior contractual obligation of this kind that I had experienced. Claudia was welcoming me to her, not the facade of a professional, but a true openness to me, even before I worked my magic hands, and the transfer of spiritual energies between us. I knew then that something special was about to occur, and I harmonized with her loveliness, and had a simple plan to sweep her into a cloud-topped bliss.
We met at the center of the firm queen-sized bed, having approached each other fully upright, slowly waddling on our knees towards each other, eyes locked, and souls searching. I carefully placed both hands on her perfect hips and drew near to her with the intent of transferring scent and pure energy radiating within me in a counterclockwise rotation like a summer-storm. We instinctively embarked upon the Asian sniff-kiss ritual, a sensual and special way of soul-blending known to very few in the western world, and yet she was as adept at it as I was. My hands delicately activated every sensual area of her back, shoulders, flanks, and everywhere else that mattered. My intention was to unlock any trepidation in her body and soul, so that she could feel safe, and, because of this warmth and safety, be swept into a blissful oblivion via my powerful will and cultured techniques. I was confident, competent, and well-versed in this art, and had no doubt that I could deliver on my intentions.
I placed my fingertips lightly upon all the right areas, working her lower back sensuously, and advancing to the back of her head as I combed upward through her dense and lovely blond hair, while planting firm kisses on her neck from left to right, and back again in a slow melodic rhythm. Her chin arched backward, firming up the skin of her neck, and I began to nibble, and move with stealth precision. I kept up this pace and took the lead in this passion-play, having successfully flipped the script to me being the pleasure purveyor, and she succumbed to my plan with ease. Claudia allowed me to lead. She desired to be taken at that moment, and sensing the heat increasing, and her breathing deepening, I knew I was on track to her complete surrender.
Many minutes passed, and I perceived that her soul was ready for my next move, knowing full well that her body was more than willing to let go of all trepidation. I pushed her body forward and carefully lowered Claudia to the bed. I carefully hovered above her with the utmost delicacy that my strength could muster. I felt her tug at my tight boxer briefs, as if to say, “Take these off,” but I whispered in her ear, “Claudia. These are staying on. Relax and let go. I have special kisses planned for you. Be still.” I paused and waited for her to emit a potential “no,” but with her eyes closed, she smiled and snuggled into the pillow farm on my bed, and braced for imminent impact, and an impact it would be. I was utterly amazed that Claudia was allowing me to be this intimate with her, and then I realized we have a strange chemistry between us, a familiarity that I presently do not understand.
Claudia’s approval of my desire to enchant her with delightful pleasures was my most welcome cue to take her by passion-force. I had to light the fires deep within me to generate the élan vital needed to bring Claudia to an ecstatic union with me. For a woman to release her innermost inhibitions and emotions in the heat of passion, which is not solely a matter of physical stimulation, energy must flow out of the well-trained alpha-lover, with direct and willful intention, and this energy “lights the fire” within her. The souls of each lover must combine in a divine union for the peak experience of divine release, which is not a glandular response to physical stimulation, but an ecstasy of souls reuniting. To invoke such a union of souls, you must physically work, and work, and work, until the both of you become as one flesh, even if only for a brief passing moment in time. This union, this singularity, is not always possible, and is extremely rare, but in this case, it was going to occur for reasons that would not be made known to me until many days later.
Slowly, I moved into the attack-position as I approached Claudia’s paradise garden, a divine sight with intoxicating aromas, delightful dews, and abundant nectar. I carefully wedged both of my arms beneath her, supporting her lovely muscular back with her firm-petite buttocks squarely resting on the lower portion of my biceps and upper-forearms, just above the elbow joints. This position provided a perfect pelvic lift that allowed precision movement, quick adjustment, and multiple angles of attack. My open palms were facing upward and supporting Claudia just below the scapulae on the softer portions of her back and posterior thoracic region. Palms-up permitted the flow of energy from my hands to her heart, which would be circulated throughout her body via the Chi energy channels known as meridians. This is the key thing that must be done to bring her to a full orgasmic release and ecstatic union, in multiple dimensions of consciousness, inside, and outside, of space and time. Claudia inspired in me a desire to bring about a glorious outcome for both of us.
This palm-up technique provides a conduit through which energy flows from deep within me, generating heat, spiritual warmth, and a unique hazy euphoria, besides providing me with biofeedback, so I can know when her earthquake and release is imminent. Claudia was petite and light as a feather, finely made, and a perfect fit with me as we formed two puzzle-pieces that were now snapped together. I was amazed at her complete and willing submission to my moves and overall plan. I sensed that she was one of my many soul mates, given the synchronicity of our meeting, and also the complete relaxation, and trust that was occurring, which indicated to me, that the divine grace from on-high was gifting me this lovely woman, and I to her. This was a reunion of two kindred spirits with a deep knowledge of each other and a love that must come from the divine indigo quartz crystal plateau, a place from which I originated before coming to this world.
At this point in my approach to Claudia, it was critical to increase the anticipation of the sensations and pleasures that would soon come. I needed to create sexual-tension and longing by provoking her erotic sensory systems with waves of warm moist air from slowly exhaled breath, followed by streams of high-pressure air through pursed lips. This is especially helpful when confronted with a perfectly manicured, leveled, unshaven, and naturally cultivated golden wheat field of utter perfection. The hair follicles in the field of Claudia’s paradise garden responded well to the warm, moist air currents, which sent delightful electrical impulses, tactile, temperature, and pressure to the proper places. With the combination of these unique techniques and the overall ambiance of the candlelit musical environment, we were both well on our way to a memorable experience.
My slow torture breathe-work stimulation caused a flowering effect in Claudia’s lovely paradise garden, and visible movement of the underlying musculature and superficial external structures was clear revealing the holy of holies in all its magnificent glistening glory. Much to my delight, I found a well-developed and prominent “sprig,” what I like to call a pleasure button, awaiting its introduction to me. In the twilight of the candles, I could see the ever expanding, and gleaming hairless folds, increase in lucid glossiness, like a freshly waxed fender on a red Ferrari, after moisture had condensed upon its surface in the cool morning air of an early spring morning. I was also grateful that no hummingbirds were in the room, as I certainly would compete with them fiercely for such a delightful dew and abundant nectar.
A mesmerizing and intoxicating aroma abounded that no perfumer or chemist could ever recreate, which overwhelmed my senses, and indicated a very healthy flora and fauna, and a balanced, fruitful, effervescent, and well-maintained garden of Claudia. My view, and the horizon that I was navigating, was an utter delight, and superbly rich in color, shape, and flavor. Above and to the north of the warm golden wheat field, of which dreams are made, was an abdomen of steel, with skin taut like a drumhead with relaxed tension. I observed the rising and falling of this divine plateau with every breath, which was increasing in frequency like ocean waves in a turbulent summer gale. The skin tones, complexion and melanin-rich texture of Claudia’s perfectly tanned body were a Rembrandt masterpiece of epic proportions.
My wicked taunting of Claudia’s paradise garden was fruitful, and soon it was time for me to parachute into the divine landing zone and continue my mission of boots on the ground (lips, not boots), and an overt thorough reconnaissance of the garden of Claudia. To the north of her divine abdominal plateau were two perfect, and ever-swelling towers of mammon, two pert, perfectly formed 34B beauties, were pointing to the North Star with absolute accuracy, like dual sextants on the ship of dreams. North of the two towers was a lovely chin and nose moving left to right, and back again, writhing as I continued my sensual oral campaign, which had only just begun. Now it was time to land swiftly in the garden, after a long, low earth orbit parachute descent from the upper stratosphere above the field of dreams.
With closed moist lips, I carefully moved into the valley of sugar and honey, and slowly planted tender kisses to the left, then to the right of the lower regions of heaven on earth. Then came a sudden, precision brushstroke with the tip of my tongue, from due south to north, and this initial movement invoked the sudden arching of her back like the recoil from a hair-triggered single-action pistol. I supported her arching-lift with my hands, followed by a swift, aggressive, and deep downstroke, whence came a deep moan and a bestial grunt. I had a gut feeling that Claudia may be an “east-west” stroke lover, this perhaps being her preferred orgasmic inducing motion, so I moved higher up the valley floor, still deeply embedded, towards the now swollen-sprig, and executed an east-west brush-stroke maneuver with absolute tenderness. With this stroke, the second high-back arch occurred, but this time, her head and shoulders slightly lifted off the pillows, and her diaphragm and breathing seized with an abrupt wheeze evident on the last inspiration of air. Wo-nelly! Wo, steady sweet Claudia, there is more of this to come, sweet girl.
At this point in the pleasure maneuvers, there is no need for heroics, special tantra techniques, or any other bullshit amateur movements. When you find the breath-ceasing stroke, and obtain the convulsive high back-arch, you maintain the rhythm and rhyme, like rowing a skiff on still waters, never increasing, or decreasing tempo. Steady as she goes, slow and methodical! Row, row, and row that boat, focusing on breathing, and visualizing becoming a metronome with great efficiency, and regularity in your stirrings. The final phase of this sensual attack is the intentional induction of spiritual energy through the palms of my hands into her aura field, all while maintaining the physical rhythms with the precision and intentions of a master maestro
Without the co-mingling of the vital energies via a direct willful, and meditative intention, a complete surrender and out-of-body experience cannot occur, and her orgasm will be a simple glandular and rudimentary physiological response to stimuli, leaving the spirit unfulfilled, and wanting for complete release and escape. If you are a true and compassionate lover, then you will tend to the body and the soul, and this is why love making should be performed with the highest reverence, and the utmost of precision, love, and appreciation for the human, and divine miracle that is occurring. This love-play is no joke, and heaven, and all concerned are watching! When a woman gives herself to you, regardless of contracts, or no contract at all, she is to be treated with reverence, respect, and love, agape-love, and lots of it, especially in the moments of ecstatic union.
As I lovingly intended with all my heart and soul, Claudia responded mightily to my lovemaking with her body and soul in a very authentic and genuine manner that cannot be theatrically staged. Not only did her body convulse tastefully and with grace, but her soul responded kindly, affecting my own soul, and for a few moments, we were as one, in divine union, in all possible dimensions of existence. We saw each other embodied and disembodied in this unification, and we eventually returned to our normal realities in time and space. When she began to relax and nestle into the pillows after her tension-relieving total body orgasm, I moved away from her very slowly. I then covered her with my light blanket, and tucked her in carefully, kissing her forehead gently. Claudia settled into what can only be described as a micro-sleep and brief escape from reality with a smile on her face. Her mouth was closed, and she was breathing deeply through her nose as if already in stage one sleep. Claudia’s golden-purple aura was evident all around her and was a lovely, comforting sight. Indeed, this woman is one of my people, an indigo soul of the highest degree, and I understand now how she arrived in my bed this evening.
After observing this lovely heaven-sent woman for a time, I sat in the leather love seat next to my bed, put my feet up on the matching ottoman, and lit a Sobranie Black Russian, black and gold-tipped cigarette, with my S.T. Dupont Le Grand cigarette lighter. I looked over at Claudia and basked in the golden-purple light of her aura as she came back to earth slowly. I then poured a good amount of Frangelico hazelnut liqueur, neat, into a Waterford Lismore diamond-tumbler, and sipped, and smoked in utter delight, as I thanked the most high God for granting me this divine encounter with one of his beloved daughters, and one of my kindred spirits from back home. It was clear to me that Claudia and I would slowly awaken to the fact of who we are, and this means that we will no doubt become close this summer, and perhaps beyond this delightful season.
I was happily satisfied in all dimensions of my being at that moment, having experienced Claudia’s delightful release of energy, while maintaining my own essence and vital humors, though I was severely drained of spiritual energy, which I gladly gave to Claudia. Deferring gratification is powerful, trust me on this fact, and women will take note of this and be intrigued. A few minutes passed, and suddenly, Claudia sprang up and inquired about the time. She jumped up and looked at me still wearing my tight briefs and smoking, and she asked, “Did we…did you, you know?” I smiled and said, “Claudia, I have not taken pleasure in the way you would expect this evening, and since time is running short, I will most certainly take a raincheck for another time.” Upon hearing these words, Claudia rose out of my bed slowly, and approached me with a savage look in her eyes. She drew near to me and planted a deep, silky smooth, French kiss upon me that I will never forget. She then walked around the bed in all her glorious nakedness, picked up her clothes, and headed to the bathroom, noticing that the three condoms she had placed on the nightstand were untouched.
Minutes later, Claudia emerged from the bathroom refreshed and fully dressed. We hugged and kissed goodbye, and she wrote her home phone number, and warned me that her roommates, all college girls in grad-school, would be very inquisitive, and ask me questions when, and if, I ever called for her privately apart from the agency. I assured her I would call her, and invited her, and up to six friends to a table service at Le Dôme discotheque at 32 Sainte Catherine O, near the old port area, any Saturday evening during the summer, where myself, and five other fine gentlemen would be eagerly awaiting their company. Claudia loved the idea and committed herself to planning this and many other encounters with me throughout the summer.
She explained to me that if we did not meet at the bookstore, and have this unlikely delightful rendezvous a few days later, that she would never give out her number, or agree to see me and break a rule with the agency like she was about to do in the coming days and weeks. So, I assured her that I would be calling the agency and be asking for her once per week, so there would be no need to worry, as everyone would be taken care of, and all would be well. She was delighted to hear this, and in an instant, Claudia was gone. I closed the door, and sat back down on my leather sofa, put my feet back on the ottoman, and poured another drink, as I reflected upon this most delightful and glorious encounter, eventually drifting off into a peaceful sleep and not rising again until the dawn of a new day.