Geezer Love 1

CHAPTER 1

“Can people over 70 fall in love? I mean good old fashioned love, like when you were 17.  Suzy Wong Scollon and KennyDN have written a romantic comedy about it; a comedy full of twists and turns, events that happen, only to the older set. We invite you to check out chapter 1. The full book will be published later in 2022.”

Ken

I was in a Holy place in the far-off city of Hong Kong. The place was full of nuns and monks and other sacred ones. Their magic filled the air. The Sacred Ones, the ones who dedicate their whole lives to Buddha, have a way of radiating magic light from their hearts. And there were 237 of them radiating simultaneously the morning I met her. The air was full of magic light when I felt a gentle pull on my braid. When I turned to acknowledge the pull, I saw her materialize. It was like Alice in Wonderland’s Cheshire cat in reverse: starting with the smile, she appeared. Then the smile spread to me. When I reached behind to hug her, she melted into my embrace instinctively. Without even knowing her name, I had fallen in love with Suzie Wong.

Suzie

An email from a colleague in Stockholm saying she was flying to Hong Kong for a Buddhist festival had me Googling Buddhist festival Hong Kong and registering immediately.  After my last class at Thammasat University in Bangkok, I flew all night (just over two hours) arriving in Hong Kong at six in the morning.  I found Mona and Anna at breakfast at the Marriott and they let me into the room where a third bed was rolled in.  At the meditation retreat, I sat in the section for late arrivals.  There was a big altar with statues of Buddhas.  Above them tankas, beautiful tapestries of deities, hung from the walls.  We bowed while the Gen-la entered, prostrated, ascended his throne and sat down.  Over the PA system came sung prayers to Tsongkapa, guru of the New Kadampas.  Then Gen-la started leading us through the rituals for uniting with divine Heruka.

I noticed a tall well-built fellow with a platinum blonde braid.  At the dinner break he and his roommate Nigel, also from Toronto, were going to have dinner at the airport.  I went along.  Then the next day we had lunch together.  I found out he was a teacher trainee.  We went to dinner with Nigel at a Sikh restaurant.  There he started telling us about the day he decided to leave his wife, but the waiter came to take our order and he couldn’t get the memory back.  I’m still waiting to find out.

Ken

Magic is strange stuff. When a man comes under its spell, he becomes a boy.  And, judging by my new friend, the same thing happens to women. Suzie chattered like a little girl, playful and full of confidence.  She just slipped into my life like a 1960s Oldie-Goldie rock song slips into an old guy’s mind. One moment you are quietly minding your own business – the next moment you are singing. Where did all this joy come from? Who knows? And really, who cares? I learned an important lesson about joy: when she comes into your life, enjoy her. For, soon enough, she’ll be gone. Same is true for magic. 

When I came under Suzie’s spell, the magic didn’t quite work: instead of becoming a boy, I became a teen-ager. At least, I felt like a teenager. Her thick shoulder-length silver hair reminded me of an old high school sweetheart. But those memories are dangerous. They are traps that could lure my unwary mind away from the joy of being with her right now. No distractions allowed! Stay focused. Stay with her: stay under her spell.

Suzie

Questions were collected and answered selectively by Gen Kelsang Tonglam.  He ignored the technical questions;  but concerns about males consorting with a divine female body had him saying, “No, you are not being unfaithful to your wife.” 

I sat next to Ken, the tall guy with the braid, as we listened to Gen-la Kelsang’s commentaries on the Vajrayogini empowerment.  We started playing footsie.  Later, I introduced him to Thai food at the Thai Melody Restaurant where we discussed the mechanics of consorting.  We left our roommates for one night: a deluxe room was available with a king-size bed.  We thought it would be easier to practice Tantra as a consort than alone.

Ken

Wisdom is cool stuff. When I came to Suzie’s Universe in Hong Kong, I had thought that Tantra was a sophisticated version of sex-play.  I wondered what I would learn about sex/tantra from celibate monks and nuns. When they taught about  ‘correct imagination’ I was sure it as something to do with sexual fantasy. And when I saw the Buddhist artist’s depiction of Heruka and Vajrayogini locked in a full-penetration sexual embrace, I was confident I was going to learn all about the so-called “sacred sexuality.”  No doubt about it: it was about love-making. It was only after experiencing Suzie’s universe that I became wise.

She was not backing down at all from my advances.  I felt like a big white stallion being controlled by a tiny fiery rider who knew no fear. The faster I galloped, the faster she wanted to go. We were approaching lift-off speed. Soon I would spread my Pegasus wings and we’d be flying.

Sooner than I had thought.

Soon enough we were having “the chat.” The chat is what you do every time you engage a new lover. The two potential lovers chat about their rules of engagement: I will do this and I won’t do that. I like this, and I like that less. Our chat was full of promise and mystery: the promise of bliss – and the mystery of being a Tantric consort.

In Canada, QC stands for “Queen’s Counsel.” It is a professional designation for certain Canadian lawyers. But in Hong Kong, in Suzie’s universe, it stands for ‘Qualified Consort.” And because we had both just received the Heruka Vajrayogini Empowerment, we felt we were now qualified consorts. And what does a qualified consort do? Well, I guess we’d better find out!

Our first attempt to consort was only a qualified success. We stole off to my hotel room when Nigel (my room mate) was attending meditation class. We played hooky. (We wanted to complete our homework…) Hooky wasn’t the only thing we played. Soon we lost track of time.  But Nigel had not lost track of time. After the meditation class, he decided to come back to his (our) room. Suzie QC and I were quietly exploring each other, at peace, in one of those smokers’ moments – like in the old Hollywood movies, where the two lovers lay back on their pillows and enjoy a cigarette.  Then we heard Nigel’s plastic electronic key unlocking our door!

We decided to book our own room for the next night.

Suzie

I first read about yabyums in Kerouac’s Dharma Bums.  As I now understand it, yabyum is the Tibetan equivalent of yangyin.  Since then, I have been practicing taijiquan, soaring crane qigong and lojong warrior exercises.  After reading The Tao of Sex, Zen Sex and similar books, practicing some with my late husband and fantasizing with current wannabes, I mostly found taijiquan more satisfying than sex.

But finally I got to try the real thing!  Yes, I wanted Pegasus to take me under his wings and fly.  It’s the Year of the Windhorse, after all.  Tonglam, the monk, says we should be light in our practice of Vajrayogini, the clear light of bliss.  Don’t take it too seriously.  Let it come.  

I had already been sky dancing as the Dakini, Green Tara under the tutelage of Prema Dasara and Myri Dakini, dancing 21 praises to Tara in Washington USA, Brazil, Hawaii and India.  But this was fully clothed, most often in a sari.  So I knew something about visualization:  it’s easier in the presence of other Dakinis.

But, far from taking wing on Pegasus’ back, I fell off a horse at the Warm Springs Indian Reservation: it took off when I sat on it bareback.  Would this be any different?  

Ken

I am not sure what Buddha meant by Qualified Consort – but I know what it means to me. In my world, it’s about intimacy. She should be “intimacy qualified.” – IQ.  I like a woman with a high IQ, highly qualified in intimacy.  If she has a high “IQ”, I will feel intimate and comfortable with her from the very beginning. I will not be shy about being naked with her, even though my ‘best before date’ has long since passed. I will not have to impress her. I will not have to sweet talk her or persuade her to do what she doesn’t want to do. We will blend together like water mixing with water. Suzie had a high IQ. She showed me her boundaries and her style, and I loved her for it. We will dance our 21 dances and, as our Buddhist teachers say, we will overcome all obstacles.

I wonder what kind of obstacles they were referring to… I wonder what obstacles to love we will encounter.

For the answer to this intriguing question, we have to turn our attention from Buddhism to Judaism and the other paternal religions – to the story of Adam and Eve. When God invented human sexuality all those millennia ago, he made one mistake. He assumed “one size fits all.” But Kenny and Suzie did not fit. Kenny was too big – or was it Suzie who was too small?

Now what would we do?

Suzie

After the shower

The bed was big enough.  Here we were, visualizing Vajrayogini in her youth, us in our dotage.  Trying yabyums, we thought, little knowing we had to concentrate, not on the physical, but on the spirit within.   Egads!  What do I do with this big dick?  Okay.  Let’s try this again.  Back to square one.  We’d washed away all body odors.  No pheromones!  How long would it take to regenerate them?

We started trying to practice the uncommon yoga of inconceivability thinking, “With effort we can accomplish anything.”  We sang the Liberating Prayer.  We took refuge and bodichitta.  We shrank our mind into Vajrayogini, over and over.  We can do it in this lifetime.  But we ain’t got much of it left, especially together.   Breakfast would come, then our final session in retreat, and off I would go with my Green Tara statue, and off he would go down under.  When and where would we meet again?  With our clothes on.  And how would we get off on them?

Yabyum means ‘mother father’ in Tibetan.  It’s the union of the feminine and masculine ‘wind’ channels in the body.  You can see a demonstration on Youtube.  With clothes on.

A high IQ does not mean you always do it naked, just as you display your intelligence often in silence.  Obstacles?  Clothing? Talk? Past use-by date? Tongue twisters?  Vajra vagina lingam linguisa cunning linguist speechless . . .

If it don’t fit and you can’t shrink it, stretch the vaj, the diamond scepter.  If you have clothes on it doesn’t matter what goes where. Hair up hair down.  Grab up grab down grab all around.  Mingle the wind water.

I think I’m losing it…

Ken

I decided to do what most men do when faced with an insurmountable obstacle: I turned to The Wisdom of the Grape. I decided to drink Australian Shiraz until I figured it out. And, wonder of wonders, it worked!

So, deeply and sincerely lost in the alfluence of incohol, I pondered: what would we do about this ancient Israeli dilemma; The Eden’s Gate Dilemma? Was she too small or was I too big? When the Angry God of Israel flung A&E (Adam and Eve) out of Eden’s orchard, he appointed two guardians to make sure they didn’t get back in: two Cherubs. And there I was, locked out of Paradise, wondering, “What’s a Cherub? And why are they locking me out of paradise? And, most importantly, how can I get in?” I am probably the only man in human history to wish his dick was smaller! What should I do?

My clouded wine-mind led my research from Judaism back to Buddhism.

In my desperate attempt to fit a size 12 foot into a size 6 shoe, I accidentally lost my mind. I flipped out! I lost my sense of logic and reason. What follows is pitiful; truly pitiful. I ask for your indulgence as you read your way through this muddled mind mess, religious metaphors and ludicrous assumptions. I was desperate! I was drunk! I needed a solution. So, in desperation, I turned to God. But, I don’t really understand God. And that’s why what follows is so very pitiful.

Apparently, a long time ago, when God manifested as three angels to Abraham and Sarah, there were many spelling mistakes made in the original Hebrew language. Spelling mistakes? First of all, the early scholars changed the man’s name to Abraham. One source says the correct spelling is “A Brahman.” But modern scholars are more and more concluding that his name was actually Samuel. God had paid a visit to the tent of Sam and Sarah. The Holy One decided to manifest as Three Angels in order to help the poor Israelis find their way back into Edenic paradise in the Garden of Eden. He gave them the Key to Eden. In this sense, the ancient Israelis were in the same fix I was in: locked out of paradise – looking for the key to get in. And Sam and Sarah held the Key.

The second spelling mistake that subsequent scholars overlooked was the name of the two Angels God left guarding Eden’s Gate. Their names were Yin and Yang – in Tibetan, Yab and Yum. (The original Torah scholars thought they were Chere and Ruby.) (Cher-Rub: get it? They were cherubs…) The reason God selected Sam and Sarah was that Sarah was a Hot Babe. She had that Way about her that so few women know. And, Gods like that. So, He revealed The Key to Eden to Sarah. The Key to Unlock the Gates of Eden lay in the names of the angels, Yinny and Yangy. (alias, Yabby and Yummy) The Key was in the union of the holy mother and the holy father. But the hard working male dominated Jews would not accept God’s teaching about male female equality. They thought that, because God created Eve second, women are second-class citizens. But, the correct interpretation of Eve coming second lies in the concept of holy union. Namely, it’s OK if the woman comes second! It’s NOT OK, if she doesn’t come at all. And how was all this going to help poor Kenny gain access to Sweet Suzie’s Garden? She had to come first! That was the key! And I had discovered it by my pitiful attempt to correct a few spelling mistakes in Ancient Hebrew!

(Remember I warned you? – I warned you this would be pitiful!)

They not only mis-spelled all those names to fit their mis-guided masculine views, but they changed the entire meaning of re-entry to Eden. They tried to connect hard work and obedience to going to heaven. And soon they realized that, even though they worked like hell and obeyed all 600+ of Moses’ laws, they still found themselves stuck on earth. So, in desperation, the Ancient Jews invented the weirdest concept of all: you go to heaven AFTER you die. This serious blunder has plagued mankind ever since. You are born, you work hard all your life, and then you die. THEN you go to heaven:  a totally misguided view stemming from mis-spelling a few names thousands of years ago. The true teaching is that you bring heaven to earth by accessing Eden’s Love-Gate (or, in this case, Suzie’s love gate). The truth is, you can’t work your way into heaven – you can’t obey your way into heaven. You have to fuck your way in!

Hold on a second – I need to refill my wine glass… – OK!

Need more proof? Check out this argument: Once you get that the correct names for the Cherubs are Chere and Ruby, you realize they are lesbians. When lesbians make love, they do not make babies. It’s sexy saucy tantalizing love that is the Key to Eden. (Tantalizing… Tantric… get it?) Sex is not about making babies: it’s about making love. Babies are your reward!

God tried to teach this sacred lesson again, in the year -1. He sent the angel Gabriel to earth and impregnated a 14-year-old Jewish virgin. She gave birth to a baby who eventually became a great Teacher. And what lessons did he teach? He taught his followers to love one another, to love their neighbours, to love their flippin’ enemies! It couldn’t be presented more clearly! It’s about LOVE, fool! Love! But, oh, no! The male dominated culture of that day scored yet another errant victory, leaving humanity once again, outside of heaven’s gate, looking in. They twisted the teachings: it’s about virginity. It’s about chastity. And it’s about making babies.

And now, approximately 2000 years later, The Lord is trying to get through to his thick-brained human creations yet again. It is more than ‘just a coincidence’ that the emancipation of women was accompanied by the discovery of birth control pills. It’s time to get with The Program, boys!  The Key to Heaven and The Secret of Life is love-making! Not obedience, not hard work! Love! 

And every red-blooded simple-minded man knows love and sex are synonyms.

I woke up the next morning sober and full of hope… and the slightest headache.  My quasi-religious, sacrilegious logic of the night before, however, had not clarified my lustful intent. Although I clearly saw the problem, I had not yet seen its solution. Here is the problem:

Our goal was Yabyum Unity – the sacred mixing of masculine and feminine.  Once achieved, this holy act would open the doors to heaven. And, as with all spiritual goals, our Way was obscured by obstacles. This obstacle was in the earthly realm. One size fits all is not a sacred law; merely a profane injustice. I, the noble father in this penetrating unity, became overwhelmed by the irony of the situation. And to confound the situation even more, let me explain how mis-guided I had been in the days before I met the impenetrable Suzie Wong.

I had been nurtured at the breast of Americanna, the Great Goddess of Greed, the inspiring ‘Material Girl’ Madonna sang about. Americanna’s influence had penetrated to my very soul: I had come to believe whatever Americanna led me to believe. How ironic: my primary soul-penetrating belief had become the main gate-blocking obstacle to my entry into heaven… the belief that my penis was too small. I, like millions of other deluded man-minds, believed the underlying inference of all those spammy penis enlargement emails. Even though I realized that the actual promises of giant pony peckers were cock and bull, my muddle-mind accepted the underlying premise: my dick is too small. 

Ladies, put your minds to rest. Very few of us men believe that an elastic band wrapped around our knob and securely fastened to our thigh, can stre-e-etch a normal dick into negroid manhood. Even fewer men believe that the so-called miracle drugs Expandadril or Swellupabit, have just received FDA approval for release into an eager market place of small-peckered men. Nor do we believe that if we send only $400 to the Prince of Nigeria, his personal physician will perform transplant surgery, wherein the penis of a full-grown male gorilla will be transplanted into our eagerly awaiting loins. (This procedure is appropriately called the add-a-dick-to-me.) 

OK – I admit that there is one procedure that seems quite credible. Here’s how it works:

It is based on the premise that 50% of all prostate glands start to grow uncontrollably after a man reaches the age of 40. 50%! That’s why 50% of all men over forty have to pee like a pregnant woman. Our prostate glands grow, putting pressure on our bladders, causing ‘frequent urination.’ The standard operation to correct the now restricted flow of urine is called the trans-urethral re-bore procedure. (t.u.r.p.) Some genius Russian Jewish doctor (Dr. Yuri Sonovabitch) felt that, if he transplanted some of the prostate’s cells into the shaft of the penis, they would continue to grow uncontrollably, causing a normal man to slowly, steadily become hung like a horse. So, what the hell! I went for it! And, it worked! Well, it worked 50%. Instead of being hung like a stallion, now I piss like a race-horse.

So, ladies, once again, put your minds at ease. Only the most deluded men fall for those enlargement emails! It’s our underlying assumption that sucks us in – the assumption that women like big dicks. This irony overwhelmed me as I stood there, knock, knock, knocking heaven’s door.

I could tell Suzie really was a Buddhist and a QC: her patience was overwhelming. We decided to turn once again to the goddess, Americanna for a solution. We found it in Big Pharma: an “adult lubri-can’t” called QC Jelly. Surely this would help us slip through the Gates of Heaven.

Had we prepared everything for our night of enlightenment? Our room looked fine. It had a huge king-size bed and a huge glass shower. We didn’t really need anything else.  The room was ready. She looked fine. Her cloths were intricate and colourful. She dressed with flair. Her manner was confident and sensual. The love goddess was ready. I felt fine. I was excited: she excited me. I was confident: she inspired me. I was ready for love.

“Let’s have a shower.” Is there anything more sensual than soapsuds on smooth skin; hot water on hot bodies; slippery belly on slippery belly? Exploring all the nooks and crannies. Everything smells so sweet. Everything feels so smooth. Everything is wet and warm. The time for philosophy and comedy has passed; the shower’s over; it’s time to get physical.

It’s their smiles that draw us in. When Suzie smiled, I actually felt her “pulling energy.” Even if she physically were to give me a gentle push, her smile would turn her push into a pull. Smiles make men want to be closer. We are drawn closer.  We want to unite with her; to become one with her; to become one with that smile.

If I had Superman’s X-ray vision, I could look at her and know exactly where she is most sensitive, where I should plant that first nibbling kiss. But I’m not super, I’m a real man: she will have to show me her desire. Look carefully, Kenny. How is her body moving? 

Look out! OMG – It’s moving straight at me! Fast! Her tiny shining body surged straight into my yielding body, pushing me backwards onto the bed, mounting me like a rider mounts her horse. Grinding her seat into my saddle for a few short seconds, she flipped off and knelt beside me on the bed, still smiling. Kissing me ever so gently, she laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled in close. It was already my turn to take command.

I’m a slow lover. I move slow and I talk even slower. I talk with my hands. Hands are designed to caress. Hands love to caress. Hands don’t need X-ray vision: they know where to go, even on the darkest night. My hands moved over her silken body like a summer wind over a field of lilies. You can smell when a lily sighs. When Suzie sighs, you hear it. It comes like music from deep inside her gently writhing body.

Her sighs come like waves on her body.

Her love waves start from her belly 

And slowly drift outwards. 

When love waves wash to her throat, she sighs.

When love’s warm waves wash over her feet,

Her toes curl up in delight.

My hands know how to caress

This gently writhing woman.

Somehow she showed them where

She needed them to go.

Our temperatures started to rise

Our breath soon evolved into sighs

I could not resist

Her need to be kissed

Between those two inviting thighs.

It was not at all as I’d feared.

I felt not the smallest bit weird.

Giving all I could give ‘er

‘Til she started to quiver.

I emerged with a soaking wet beard.

The slow part of love had ended. 

The frenzy had begun.

It was time for Mars to take Venus.

The Unicorn moment had arrived.

She wanted to receive me as much as I wanted to penetrate her.

Legs wrapped ‘round my waist, her hips thrust up to meet me.

I settled gently downward

And slowly pressed into her…

“I settled gently downward and slowly pressed into her…”

Hmmm…

OK, I pressed firmly into her.

I pressed very firmly into her!

Something is wrong!

I’m pressing – she’s pressing back – but “into her” is not happening!

After trying belly to belly, we switched to belly to back. No luck. Side-saddle: no luck. No penetration. Something was wrong! 

Let’s take a moment to ponder this situation. It appears that, try as we might, we couldn’t fit a size 7 ¼ head into a size 6 ¾ hat. A number 6 screw into a number 3 bolt. A 15” wheel into a 14 tire” … Whatever!!   Now what the hell are we supposed to do?

I could see that I had hurt her. She leaned against the bed head gently caressing her pussy. I do not hurt my lovers. I carry warrior energy: I protect my lovers. I do not hurt them. 

Now what am I supposed to do?