“Yeah, the book.” Pulling himself from the powerful spell of feeling cast over him, he dipped his thumbs into the pages and haphazardly opened the volume to whatever section fate decreed.
Looking down at the page staring up at them, he and Theodosia examined the detailed picture of a man who, by means of his tongue, hands, feet, and manhood, was making love to no less than six women at the same time.
“I think I’ll move to Tibet,” Roman quipped. He turned the page, upon which was illustrated another picture.
The diagram showed a man with ropes tied around each of his wrists and ankles. He hung suspended from a ceiling beam, and with his swollen shaft poised and four men handling his ropes, he was being lowered toward a spread-eagled woman on the floor.
“I think I’ll stay in Texas,” Roman decided aloud.
Giggling, Theodosia thumbed through more pages, then stopped at one. “Let’s try this.”
Roman scowled. The picture displayed a couple making love in a sitting position with their feet locked behind their heads. “Are you crazy? I can’t get my feet around the back of my neck like that.”
“Try.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He stared at her. Was this sexual daredevil really the same prudish woman who had vowed to have a brief, unfeeling bout of coitus in a pitch-dark room? “Look, Theodosia, even if I were able to get my feet crossed behind my head like that, I’d never be able to get them down again. I’d be forced to go through life inching along the ground on my bare—”
“Oh, very well.” She turned to another page. “How about this?”
In the picture she indicated, a man in a standing position made love to a woman while holding her off the floor. They were face-to-face, and the woman’s body was folded in a jackknife pose with the backs of her legs pressed against the man’s chest, her feet resting upon his shoulders, and her hands grasping the back of his neck. To further support her, the man had his hands beneath her bottom.
Roman remembered how far Theodosia had stretched her legs above her head during their sexual encounter in Red Wolf and suspected the unusual form of lovemaking wouldn’t be impossible for her. “This position has definite possibilities.” When he rose from the ground, Theodosia saw he was fully erect and ready to begin. The sight increased her own desire, and she eagerly took his hand when he held it down to her.
Roman helped her to her feet, then clasped her waist. “On the count of three jump aboard. One…two…three.”
She hopped up and into him, curling her legs around his back.
“This is all wrong,” Roman said, staring into her twinkling whiskey eyes. “Your legs are supposed to be on my chest and your feet are supposed to be on my shoulders.”
“But I can see no way of moving my legs upward while you are holding me like this. Your arms are in the way.”
“Did you see directions written anywhere on that page that shows the drawing?”
She shook her head and kissed the tip of his nose. “I believe we shall have to determine the procedure ourselves.”
Roman thought for a moment. “I have an idea.” He set her back on the ground, then lay down on his back. “All right, sit on my stomach and stretch your legs over my chest.”
Carefully, she sat on his belly and adjusted her legs before her so that her feet dangled just past his shoulders.
Her position afforded Roman a tantalizing view of pure femininity. “Why don’t we just stay like this for a while?” he suggested, his hands stroking the tops of her thighs, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into the sweet treasure between her legs.
Theodosia leaned over and locked her hands behind his neck. “Up, my magnificent Tibetan lover.”
Holding her behind the small of her back, Roman slowly sat up. Theodosia’s legs rose with him. “Are you sure this isn’t hurting you anywhere?”
She sighed. “I feel a long, delicious stretch at the backs of my thighs, and the sweet ache of desire inside my—well, you know.”
He did indeed know. The thought nearly rendered him senseless with longing for her. “All right, I’m going to stand up now. Hold on.”
Standing proved more difficult than he’d imagined. Most of Theodosia’s weight pushed into his torso, and what with her sitting between his chest and bent knees, he was off balance and could not get enough weight pushed toward his legs to be able to stand without rolling backward.
“I’m going to have to rock to my feet,” he informed her. “You just sit still.”
He began to rock back and forth. The sounds of crunching leaves and his own heaves of exertion filled the quiet of the night, but he soon shifted enough weight forward to be able to stand. Quickly, he slid his hands downward and supported Theodosia by holding her bottom. “It’s a wonder those Tibetan men can even perform after the work out of trying to stand up with their women hanging off their necks.”
