Lia and Kyle: the tent

‘Ohh aaaah yaaassss…’

The young man roared with abandon as he came like a steam train. He lifted his hips into quite an impressive bridge pose and Lia had to grab onto the the rustic brass bedhead to avoid being catapulted against the canvas of her glamping tent. It was her third year leading solstice yoga at the Midsummer festival on Arran and she had apparently reached enough seniority to be awarded one of the fancier tents.

Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the Kundalini workshop next door reached a crescendo. The young man — Kyle, she was almost certain — whooped again. He gave her a dazed grin, sweat drying on his slim, tautly muscled chest.

She liked the bodies of circus artists. Lia climbed off and stretched on the handstitched patchwork quilt next to him, idly traced his abs as he wiped his thick mop of jet black hair from his forehead. They were like tightly coiled springs, forever ready to explode into acrobatic action. In more ways than one, she thought with a grin.

A couple of hours earlier, she had been planning on a final meditation then retiring early when the final act of the night caught her eye. A slackline acrobatic performance in which Kyle bounced and balanced on a line strung over a gorge in the craggy valley, at least ten metres above ground. He leaped and posed, standing on two hands then one, holding a full split silhouetted against the low summer moon, then turning a series of explosive backflips along the three-centimetre-wide line. There was a cheek about him, a cocksure confidence to the way he stuck a metaphorical two fingers up to gravity that held Lia rapt, all thoughts of an early night forgotten.

‘That was — you are — wow.’ Apparently recovered, he rolled over and pulled her close, kissing each nipple in turn. ‘That was amazing, it was great to meet you, thank you.’

‘Oh.’ She raised an eyebrow, watching as he got up and bounded around the tent with the energy of a caged tiger, searching for his clothes. ‘Did you think I came?’

‘Women don’t usually come,’ he shrugged, perching at the end of the bed to tie his sneakers. ‘Not from normal sex. They need vibrators and stuff.’

‘Is that right?’ If Lia raised her eyebrow any higher she feared her forehead would never recover. ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-seven.’

‘Ahh.’ Lia stretched languidly, her long, silver hair splaying across the pillow as she trailed her fingers over her breasts and felt the first stirrings of pleasure. It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed the sex. He had descended on her like a ravenous puppy, easily lifting and flipping her through an array of positions — at least one of which she recognised from his act. It had been entertaining, and satisfying in its own way.

But Lia had learned over the years her body was like a classic Porsche. Capable of phenomenal pleasure — yet if you started the engine and jammed the accelerator, she would get little more out of sex than a bit of fun cardio. There were several gears for a reason. She opened her legs and glided seamlessly into second with a soft gasp.

‘What — what are you doing?’

Lia half-opened her eyes to find Kyle staring at her — his eyes stunned, his erection enthusiastically tenting his flowy harem trousers. She smiled.

‘You may be finished,’ she murmured as her finger found just the right place, sending a shockwave that made her back arch. ‘But I am only just starting.’

She stroked gently around and over, a well-practiced rhythm, as her body filled with sweet tingles and her fingers became slick.

‘Can I —’ Kyle cleared his throat. ‘May I... help? I’ve never — every time I’ve tried that with a girl she has told me not to.’

‘Have you by any chance gone at a clitoris with the energy of scrubbing a stain out a carpet?’ Lia made some wider, lighter circles with her finger, feeding the sparkles but not quite enough to push herself over the edge just yet.

‘Maybe.’ The guilt in his voice made her smile.

‘Come,’ she whispered. She reached for his hand and guided it to just the right place, showing him how to tease and stroke, alternating pressure — and squirming as he proved to be a quick learner. ‘Every woman is different. You must experiment, explore, listen for her — ohhh. Listen for that.’

Kyle knelt between her legs, his thumb pressed gently over her clit as he slipped first one finger inside and then a second and stroked. A little fast to start with, then adjusting as she nodded and gasped, the sparkles taking her breath away as he found the rhythm. His reverent expression swam in her vision as pressure built and built then finally she erupted, a lava of pleasure flooding through her every cell, curling her toes and sending her thrashing and trembling, her eyes just about rolling back in her head.

‘Oh — wow,’ he breathed as aftershocks shuddered through her. ‘That was — you are — I never knew that — oh my goodness.’

‘Well done, young Jedi,’ she grinned, patting his hand.

‘That was very —’

‘Oh my dear boy,’ Lia grinned, propping herself on her elbow. ‘That was just the first lesson.’