Yellow Room Scene
Another unveiled recall from the Afternoon in Seattle
From Afternoon in Seattle
We sat on the bed, passing a pipe around. They said it was something called chongo. I was so deep into the trip that my body felt unfamiliar, like I was made of hot clay.
“We want to fuck you,” Jillian said. I knew what she meant; I was to be taken.
I knew there was nothing I could do about this. And I wanted it. “But show us your cum mirror first,” she said, giggling; Jillian had never seen it. Coco had told her about it. I swirled into chaotic embarrassment at the prospect of just showing it to her, and then I had it in my hands without remembering retrieving it from my bag.
Right then…as I held my round cum mirror in my hands…a whole scene preceded that, hidden from my memory until now. We were seated in a yellow space, all facing toward a large wall mirror.
There was something odd when they said the words, We want to fuck you. It was like multiple voices speaking at once. One was mine.
Coco was to the left, Jillian to the right, both of them naked. I was standing, also naked, in front of my chair, facing myself and both of them in the vast reflection, with the small round mirror/thickly coated cum dish in my hands. I was afraid to look down at it.
We were…nowhere.
The room we were in did not exist. I was certain that it did; we were all together in the space. From the silent place in my mind, the Voice that Knows said: This room is always here.
Suddenly I was alone there, speaking to myself.
I want to fuck you.
Then I was with the women again. The yellow light morphed into an indescribable sound. The distances were all distorted. Coco was sitting forward on her chair, legs open, fingers stretching her yoni open. Her eyes were focused on herself. It was like she was seated where I was standing, close to the mirror. For a moment we were in the same space.
Jillian spoke.
Naturally you want to fuck us.
This echoed and trailed off…and I felt a sudden, uplifting relief hearing those words; to be acknowledged for that particular feeling.
Every time you mirror in front of a woman and reveal yourself, and show her that thing you’re holding, it will become more natural. More natural for everyone. Do not deny this to women.
From there, the scene evaporated into a veiled memory and we were back in the ship’s cabin. I had my mirror in my hands. Jillian was laughing…I knew what I needed to do, what I was intended to do, though not wholly my choice, and yet it was…
Ohhh, how disgusting!
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