Tantrika Read Online Free PDF Page A

This is the energetic entry point that enables people to access past experiences that caused them to close down their sexual energy.”
    With a partition splitting the men and women, Charles coached the men on how to “awaken the goddess” by massaging a woman’s “sacred spot,” the mysterious G-spot that has eluded scientific confirmation since its apparent discovery. “It’s a sacred duty for you guys to awaken an energy that seems to lie dormant. This is not just for bodies. Sexual love is a sacrament that will bring you closer to your god, as well as to each other.
    â€œUse the third or fourth finger. Palm upward, reach into the yoni and curl the finger toward you in a kind of come-hither gesture. First, just hold the contact without movement. After one minute begin linearstroking, experimenting. Gradually proceed to all the other strokes, pulsing, tapping, vibrating, using a circular motion or going side to side. After trying all these strokes, make a dance of all of them.”
    On the other side of the wall, over tears, the women whispered tales of abuse and dejection and neglect. Rape, sexual abuse, depression, emotional walls. I thought of all my hurt through the casual and episodic relationships I’d had over the years, filled with dreams that never crystallized.
    It was my turn to divulge why I was sitting at this workshop. I returned from my daydreaming. I told them what I dared: my life started in the country where Tantra began, and though this was a reporting assignment, I was hoping to gain something from this personally for I, like everyone, was in pursuit of the things that touch our souls. There, I thought, that was enough.
    The partition slid away, the married couples retreating for “homework.” The single men assembled into a puja circle, sitting cross-legged with their eyes closed, while the single women stood inside the circle.
    Charles instructed the women to hold hands, “breathing energy” out their right hands, and told us, “Honor the goddess within you. Here are your choices. You can go home alone and experiment by yourself. Or you can say, ‘I’d like to experience sacred-spot massage, and I’m willing to trust someone to do it with me.’ If you choose to stay you will have a memorable night.”
    Over a vegetarian meal, earlier that day, one of the single men, Ben, a local with a business card that read “sexual healer,” had volunteered to give me “a sacred spot massage.” “I’m excellent,” he’d said. I stepped out of the circle. The other women paired up with the men, retreating into the night together. One woman feasted that night with a man she had just met. They drank Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers and ate coconut macaroons he bought from 7-Eleven. She solved one mystery. She discovered she had a G-spot.
    Over avocado soup, the Muirs wove the tale of their ascent in America as Mr. and Mrs. Tantra. The Muirs launched their Tantra teaching business even though neither one of them had been to India. The business enjoyed years of success. But the Muirs now carried a secret. They hadseparated two years earlier and gone on a “relationship sabbatical” because Charles wanted to do “research” on healing other women.
    We walked the curving sidewalk to an intersection that led the Muirs to their room. Caroline cast me a smile. “Two years ago, we would have asked you in to have sex. If I wasn’t here, Charles would ask you now.”
    I smiled politely and scurried away.
    A few months later, I experimented privately with the art of sacred spot massage behind the white lace curtains of the Grand Hotel du Nord overlooking the main plaza in Reims, France’s capital of champagne production. My boyfriend was a twenty-four-year-old French-Algerian my childhood friend Sumita had introduced me to at the corner of Montague and Henry Streets in Brooklyn Heights in front