July 2024 – Audio Version
The Dom had plans for me, and while I had a general idea of what that might entail, I was filled with curiosity, wondering what new and unexpected debauchery might be in store for me. I removed my jewelry and heels before rapping on his front door. After years of never knowing quite what was biding on the other side of the door, experience had conditioned me to be mindful of anything, and buckle shoes were most certainly not on the approved list. Now, over the threshold, he had as of yet to touch me beyond placing my hands on the finial of his bedroom footboard. Not even a kiss at the door, merely a gruff “you should follow me,” to which I gleefully obeyed.
It was a beautiful summer Sunday morning. The fair gray light from a cloudy morning filtered onto the bedspread before me. The fan above blew a gentle breeze that ruffled the hem of my short skirt as I obediently bent my body at a 90° angle, feeling the crackling tension in the air. There was something exceptionally wicked about such a liaison on a Sunday morning that filled my Inner Goddess with unholy delight. This was a distinctive type of worship, a far cry from my earlier years. My Inner Goddess smirked as I wondered how a past me might perceive the current me.
Meanwhile, the muscles of my derrière held themselves in readiness for the stridency sure to rain down on me, but it never came. I divined the press of the Demigod’s topless body against the silk of my sundress, the stiff muscles, his pectorals, and his abdomen pressing on the ladder of my spine. I regarded his breath, fine and tender upon the side of my exposed neck, as his fingers brushed aside my sapphire curls, fashioning them to cascade down the opposite shoulder. The Dom’s velvety lips whispered up my elegant neck behind my ear, to my temple, traveling my cheekbone, and finally, the corner of my lip. Thick as tree trunks, his arms enwound around my body in a massive hug. I felt my body melt into the enormous power of his essence, content in my sublime petiteness, marveling at the sensual seduction.
The Demigod began his inquest as if it were his first time with me. Lackadaisically, he explored the benign curves of my body, beginning circumspectly over my sundress with fluid fineness. His lips planted agust embraces on the bare spaces of my shoulders and my upper arms. There was breath on my neck, and his scruffy beard tickled ever so faintly. At last, he lifted the scandalous short hem, settling it to rest over my bent waist as his fingertips lavishly danced over the back of my thighs and up my derrière.
I adored the full body contact as he melted on me, my buttocksperfectly nestled against the concave of his washboard abdomen, blockish hips, and dense upper thighs. Vigilant fingernails seductively trailed from my hips down to my knees and up again, never harsh, more akin to soothing silk ropes, until my nervous system was radiating in delectation. What an extraordinary performance! Letting go of the finial with one hand, I brushed an errant curl falling across my ear as his teeth nibbled the earringless lobe. Even here, the Demigod was compassionate and erotic, restrained fury replaced with doting Sunday morning intimacy.
The Demigod was utterly silent throughout this procedure, harkening to my moans and whimpers. When he did speak, his voice was barely audible. As requested, I lifted my arms as he orchestrated the tiny sundress over my head, tossing it on a nearby chair. Having the Demigod return to his position, molded over my form, was a sheer indulgence. The heat of his body calmed the chilled shivers wrought by the wafting fan. His hands began their curious examination, fondling each pendent breast. A finger caressed my sternum down the entire breadth of midriff to my naval, sneaking under the strings of my lacy panties where they rested on my ample hips before hooking a thumb in each side and slowly inching them down my thighs. Without lobbying, I stepped out of the thin bit of material, and he tossed them aside where they joined my dress.
Lazily, his weight still resting against my back, his index and middle fingertips brushed the outer curtain of my delicate, causing a trifling sigh to escape my crimson lips. I felt like rich velvet at his touch. I knew myself to be practically dripping before he ever so nominally diverged my curtains. On discovering my secret, the Demigod rumbled a little growl, letting me know his satisfaction at finding me so primed and willing. Swirl, stroke, swirl. Demigod’s fingers began their ambling rotation, awakening my latent pearl to the gentle morning light.
The Dom quickened his fingers, prompting my first dizzying orgasm. Fingers clinging to the chestnut finial, arms straight, and legs spread with bare feet firmly planted on the floor, I writhed against the encompassing hug. My pearl thrummed to life at his skillful ministrations, and I threw my head back to rest on his shoulder, launching my cry of jubilation into the heavens. The Demigod took the opportunity to softly nip my neck and jawline, further inciting my eruption.
As the first of many orgasms thinned, the Demigod curbed his pace while continuing his entrancing inquisition. I moaned at the intoxicating devotion, the sensory occasion overwhelming me. My mind filled with a curious question, pondering as to when we had last taken our time to simply enjoy one another. My Inner Goddess was too preoccupied with following his wanderlust hands to care about the riddle.
Indolently, the Demigod’s extensive fingers meandered their way to my pearl afresh. I pressed my angled hips and derrière against him, exhilarated to feel the monolith bulging and straining in rebellion under his Kevin Kleins. Hmm…I was naked. My Inner Goddess supposed he should be, too! Before I could make the request, the vibrating fingers against my pearl slipped inside me and elicited a riotous climax from my inner jewel that left me gasping and clinging to the wooden bedpost.
Scarcely recovered, I wiggled against his groin, this time more for my diversion than his. I bit my lip appreciatively at the responsive flexing. The Dom continued the tempting seduction of droning fingers upon my pearl until it submitted to his call. My orgasm burgeoned beneath his influence until my trembling legs struggled to uphold our combined weight. His troublesome boxers were long forgotten.
The stalwart Demigod repeated the process a myriad of times: inveigling pampering that metamorphosized to mindnumbing climaxes, all while bent at my compliant 90° inclination. After a bit, my head hung low, chest heaving; I felt him lift off of me. Submissively, I remained still, though attuned to my surroundings.
A rustle behind me indicated the overdue removal of his boxers. I gave a murmur, indicating my awareness of the proceedings, and shimmied my hips until he invariably pressed his warm nakedness against me. I sighed heavily at the salacious contact. However, this time, the Demigod refrained from pouring himself over me. Hmm… There was a disturbance as he perused the implements on the side table behind and just to my left. I steadied my breathing in preparation for the impending pain. At my entrance, my eyes quickly scanned the tools as they patiently waited for their Master, and I had already surmised their dark implications. My Inner Goddess wondered if he would begin with something sharp or thuddy as I fought to regulate my breathing.
Oddly, the Dom beguiled and astonished me yet again. Smooth, leather-clad fingers spread over my shoulders and down my spine with enchanting enticement. I gaped at the fascinating allure. The Demigod continued his slow study, copping one breast and then the other in the clad hand. My mind was near catatonic at the hypnotic enthrallment. I am not sure I could have formed words if warranted. I oscillated my buttocks against his naked loins, relishing the demonstration of his hands and the connection of our skin.
Confident with his ministrations, the Dom laid one soft pat on my left cheek. I inhaled, my mind focused on our unique waltz of trust and surrender. His hand massaged the impacted skin. The sound was the most acute part of the action. My Inner Goddess grinned. The Demigod’s right hand, void of a calfskin, gathered my sapphire hair into a ponytail.
“Here we go!” My Inner Goddess, the vibrant voice of my instincts and desires, assured me.
Nevertheless, the grip on my curls was not aggressive. It was merely a temperate handhold, a sign of his domination over the situation. As the Demigod drew back his left hand, sanctioning several mischievous thuds against my skin, I felt my muscles slack, settling into the rhythm. My ears tuned to the gentle R&B, floating through the growing buttercup morning light.
The gloved hand muffled each one as the strikes increased in speed, location, and intensity. The enterprise was so gratifying and savory that I could have continued for hours. It stirred something deep within my soul, a journey of emotions that was not the usual quest for punishment for irrational failings but more akin to the lethargic glow from a decisive massage. This may sound nonsensical, but it is the closest I can come to describing the mellow aura that suffused my soul.
Sooner than I cared for, the giant ping-pong paddle replaced the leather. The initial impact stung far more than I had expected. I was utterly bewildered. My derrière was neither hot nor flushed from the nonabrasive spanking. Evidently, my nerves were quickened more than I presupposed. The next whack was a live wire sending sharp needles prickling beyond the point of contact. I squinted my left eye, acclimating and breathing through the pain. This was good. We could do this!
3, 4, 5 strikes later, and my resolve wavered. 10, 11, and 12 fell on the opposite cheek. This one had received less attention than the left cheek. Still, under the paddle, jagged needles viciously pricked my sensitive skin. I squirmed, rising onto my tiptoes as I adjusted, waiting for the lingering pain to subside.
My Inner Goddess was confused by our intolerant pain level. We were accustomed to far more than this! What was wrong with us? 15, 16, 17. Eyes watering, I rose onto the very points of my tiptoes. Nope, I was by no means appreciating the experience. This was not for me today! Just as the words formulated over my lips, the Demigod, ever vigilant, must have noticed my discomfort and set the paddle aside, replacing it with the soothing caress of his naked hand.
I moaned, pressing the full length of my back against his bare chest, smiling at the cooling relief of his body and the tickling sensation of his chest hair. Clever fingers once more found my wanton pearl coddling her until I was a weak, gasping puddle; my fingers dug into the resistant oak finial. Absently, I heard solid footsteps retreating away from me. My hazy vision indicated the Demigod had stepped to his nightstand, the morning light glinting off the foil in his hand.
Catching my fixation, the Demigod smirked, his crystal eyes sparkling. I watched him encase his abundant glory. His resonant growl at my obscene drooling made my fingers flex and wiggle against the wood while a shiver of suspense ran down my spine.
What was I to do next? Should I take charge and have my way with him? Or was I to remain in my prostrate position, 90° in the middle of his room, with my hands encircling the assigned bedpost? After a bit of contemplation, I determined to remain in my position. I was not feeling particularly bratty after such an intimate morning and was delighted to see how the morning would proceed.
Returning, the Demigod carefully positioned himself at my rear, knees slightly bent while I rose on tiptoe to accommodate his substantial length. The sultry melody from the desk continued to float in mesmerizing harmony with the dawning rays. My Inner Goddess was luminescent, wings wide and all aflutter.
In consistency with the morning cadence, the Demigod pressed his bulbous glory between my glossy curtains with such circumspection as to drag his ridge over my inner jewel with deliberate consideration. It nearly caused me to convulse and implode from the simple act of his insertion. The Demigod took meticulous care, thrusting in and out unhurriedly, permitting his size and girth to do the majority of the work, not a rapacious throttling. His body weight enclosed me, the heat lapping at my naked skin. No anticipated brutal rampage followed. Just an achingly delicious, slow morning pleasuring. I was unaccustomed but not ungrateful for the unfamiliar interlude with the Demigod.
Even my Inner Goddess took gratification from the leisurely lovemaking. Awed and bewitched by the regard, she basked in the glow, focusing on the clutch of his hand on my breast, the curvature of his hips where they met mine, and the melancholy longing when he withdrew. His sweet breath ruffled the tiny rebellious curls on my neck. I could feel my wistful need opening within me like the delicate petals of a crimson rose. I nourished the yearning, fostering the throbbing flower as the Demigod’s measured lilt fed the craving with each thrustful penetration.
My climactic flower burst into wondrous exquisiteness, washing over me like thick strips of silken tapestries. The cloth twisted down my legs, then pulled upwards between my thighs, constricting as it entwined my waist, and glided through the valley of my breasts, tightening and winding around my neck before exiting as a gasping cry to greet the morning sunbeams. The fabric flowed in powerful currents that arched and bowed my captive form. Blindly, my right hand reached for the gathered cloth of the folded comforter for additional support while my left threatened to scratch the varnished finial of the footboard. It was beyond description.
In the first act of aggression, the Demigod gripped my waist, wrenched me to face him but then abruptly tossed me onto the bed. I grinned at the formidable display, glorying in his raw capacity and my dainty femininity. I stretched, closing my eyes and allowing the last satin tendrils of my orgasm to slide off my fingertips. Invisible hands on my knees parted them, resting each foot on top of the mattress. A grin perked the corner of my lip.
“Yes, please!” I thought in alacrity, my mind and body simultaneously tensing and relaxing.
The ferocity never came. The striking Demigod bent his great head and lovingly licked my still-pulsing pearl. As his lips sealed over my curtains, a mosaic of coruscating emotions fought for dominance as the silken tapestry returned in luxurious splendor. My hips rolled at the startling dining, but the Demigod was armed for this. He wrapped his oaken arms around the outside of my thighs, pinning them in place. His fingertips curled inward, minutely pulling my delicate to part my petals for his superb dining.
My virtuoso climax claimed my soul, my hips rolling in time with the undulating waves created by his fastened lips. The Demigod shifted his grip, putting weight on my pelvic bone and anchoring my hips to the mattress. This forced my body to endure each escalating crest rather than simply flowing with the subjecting satin strains of my orgasm.
When I was thoroughly devoured, the Demigod slid his oiled granite within my willing cocoon that constricted around his strength with happy abandon. Keeping with the theme of our morning, he moved with vigor but not dominance, his recreation to generate my release, not my obeisance. I moaned with passion at the decadent adoration.
Moments flitted past, and the Demigod stunned me by yielding his lips to my wanton slit. I was staggered by his ardor and the various techniques he employed on my behalf. The broad strokes of his tongue, the flicking laps, the way he buried his face into my depth, his mouth airtight around my pearl, and his tongue burrowing within. The Demigod was impervious to my rollicking body, his staunch fingers digging into the susceptible flesh of my inner thighs, nails biting as my body shattered at his adulation.
Upping his game, two fingers joined his dexterous tongue. Creeping within, they taunted and played with my inner jewel. Already enveloped in the luxurious fabric of my climax, the feeling was amplified, matching the brilliance of the golden Summer sun. Abandoning all decorum, my throat reverberated with my answering cries.
The Dom augmented his approach, rising to kneel on the bed to my left, fingers flying, emphasizing his control. Every sense sharpened, the orgasm exacerbated, multiplying until my gates could no longer withstand the mushrooming pressure. Nectar, long held in unwitting reserve, burst, teeming around his fingers and pooling beneath my hips. Sanguine with his efforts, the Demigod restored his head to my apex, tongue hunting my pearl.
Gods of Olympus!! The Demigod refused to give me a moment of peace. Fingers, tongue, growls, and one orgasm succeeding another! As usual, he was far from finished with me.
The Demigod lifted one leg over me, straddling my shoulders and effectually placing us in a 69 position with him on top. Eagerly, my lips strained for his suspended crown, which was promptly granted. Arcing my neck, I increased the penetrating depth, only choking a little but ignoring this trivial detail. I had a God to please.
“Oh…look at you take it!” The Demigod growled approvingly. His fingers released my pearl, sitting back and resting his weight on his bent knees above me, further entombing his glory to the very hilt.
This inflated my Inner Goddess’ ego, prompting her to elevate her reach, lips bonded around his girth as my tongue sampled the first hint of his approaching climax. I was a good girl and intended to prove it to him and myself. The Demigod groaned, wedging his advantage into the narrowest part of my throat. My Inner Goddess could not have been more jubilant!
Taking his glistening length from my throat, the Demigod gripped his honor in a tight fist, stroking the stiff member with familiar license. His kneeling body remained straddling my head. My brows furrowed in consternation. How could I provoke and stimulate his interest? I could not lap my nipples, and bathing his jewels did not galvanize the strident motion above me. Through my narrowed vision, I caught sight of the wardrobe mirror.
From the start, the Demigod had positioned me sideways on the bed, my ankles dangling over the side nearest the wardrobe. An hour later, this worked to my advantage. Front-facing, the Demigod was on full display for the mirror, while only my lower hips and legs could be seen. Excellent, I thought as my nimble fingers inched down my naval to my damp slit.
I spread my limp legs, providing the towering Dom with a double-flaunting view. Thunder lumbered above me as my finger found my hooded pearl. Alluringly, my middle and ring fingers toyed between my curtains. While not personally provoking, the ploy worked portentously on the groaning Demigod. Rooting my feet on the bed, I bridged my hips, boosting the reflection in the mirror.
My fingers zigzagged over my pearl, hips hovering. Playing a final card, I engaged one final step—my tongue. Lifting my head, my lips consolidated around his dense royal jewels. Victory! The counterreaction spurted, divulging down my bosom and between my breastbone, reaching as far as my naval. My Inner Goddess gave an uproarious cheer as the Demigod heaved a great sigh, the last of his expulsion trickling from his drooping tip.
With the last of his strength, he strode across the room and retrieved a towel for me, deftly handing it to me before collapsing on the mattress beside me. I had already folded over the sopping waterproof cover, furnishing him a dry place to lie. I snuggled close, feeling comforted in the euphoric arcadian bliss. We chatted amiably for a time, our conversation a delightful respite, catching up on the this and that transpiring in our month-long absence. As we talked, the anticipation of our pending brunch reservation grew until my stomach grumbled, reminding us of the extravagant meal to come.
Gaily, I groomed, redressed, and waited patiently at the door as the Demigod fetched Bradley a doggy biscuit before we drove to meet our brunch reservation. It was a divine affair: French Toast with fresh-cut strawberries and cream. Regretfully, I did stuff myself; it was far too delicious to resist! So, imagine my surprise; my eyebrows raised in curiosity when the Demigod broached an idea as we sipped our after-brunch tea, adding a delightful twist to our day.
“I think,” he sipped his London Fog. “We should go back to my place and get naked.”
My face blanched while my Inner Goddess skipped a beat. Every extra, unnecessary bite of French Toast swam before my eyes. My stomach looked at me worriedly. I couldn’t help but wonder, would I have tempered my sizable belly if I had thought a second round was an option?
“Sounds good to me!” I declared, my stomach voicing a distant protest against my own cravings.
Once over his threshold, I stepped aside to power my nose. On my return to the outer rooms, my eye caught the recumbent form of the Demigod sprawled on his rumpled bedsheets. I smiled as the sunlight danced over his ripped abs. Earlier, he had mentioned wanting to lose ten or so pounds. As I gazed at his restful form, I was puzzled. The god was pure muscle and sinew; where was this superfluous weight he was so concerned with? The mystery of his self-perception intrigued me.
Through slitted eyes, the Demigod noticed my paused form in the doorway and beckoned me to join him on the bed. Briskly, I slipped out of my willowy sundress, taking my time removing my white stringy thong. The corner of his lips perked at my luring devesting, but he said nothing, his breathing remaining low and tranquil. His glory sleepy across his thigh. Avidly, I snuggled onto the bed, tucking my petite form to coalesce, my head on one shoulder, leg draped over one vast leg. My fingers frolicked lightly through the curly salt and pepper curls carpeting his expansive chest.
As I settled into the peaceful ambiance, my ears were comforted by the background music. My breastbone and abdomen, snug to his torso, observed his lungs’ somnolent rise and fall. The fan wafted a cool breeze over our nude forms, causing me to snuggle a bit closer to the easy heat of his body. My nose detected the faint yet familiar scent of Old Spice and the carnal hint of natural masculinity. I sealed my eyes, absorbing the essence of the Demigod and the nimbus of the Sunday Morning, feeling a deep sense of connection and profound contentment that filled my soul with a satisfying peace.
I was just entering the initial stages of napping when the prostrate Demigod impulsively disentangled us, rolling on top of me and embracing me deeply. Promptly awake, my legs girdled his waist while my lips matched the fervor of the unexpected embrace, a giggle emanating from my throat. What breakfast? My Inner Goddess was instantly at the ready.
“I thought someone was too full to play,” the Demigod teased, pulling away from my coquettish lips.
“You can’t kiss me like that and not expect something to happen!”
His boyish grin possessed me, and hands on the back of his neck guided him to my lips once more. My body arched to meet him, happy for the robust weight crushing me into the opulent mattress. As his glory fortified on my thigh, my toes curled with expectation – this was going to be delectable!
Kisses shadowed my body, the Demigod’s body moving southward with panther grace. Oh, that was how it was going to be? I spread my legs as his lips closed the distance to my zenith. The culmination of his enthrallment had my slit bathed in conditioned welcome.
Gods of Olympus! The first lick had my pearl quivering. The third and fourth sent jolts of electricity bolting through my nervous system. Desperate not to worry the neighbors, I ensconced my face in the Demigod’s plethora of pillows and screamed his praises, loosening my mind, body, and soul into the Demigod’s proficient solicitousness.
When I could no longer draw breath, the Demigod extricated himself from my thighs, sitting back on his heels, smugly witnessing his weak and gasping work. It took a solid moment for my brain to recognize his words as a suggestion that it was his turn for oral application. Yes, yes, yes!!
Sitting up, I whisked my tousled sapphire curls into a messy bun. I wanted nothing to obstruct his view of my engrossment of his colossal glory. The lumbering thunder indicated his appreciation for the gesture and the view. I locked eyes with him as I lowered my head, lips narrowly parted. I wanted him to attest to my administration as I grasped his sturdy base and sank my throat down every notable inch. His instinctual groan was all the stimulus my Inner Godded necessitated.
Up and down, I bobbed, adjusting my tempo and the intensity as he swelled in my cavern. Through my lashes, I perceived his bulking arms upraised, fingers wrapped around the iron finials of this headboard. He was gripping the bedpost!! My Inner Goddess capered in arrogant conquest. Every muscle was elongated, and his tendons were extended in taut agony. Gods, he was going to cum again!
Invigorated, I gave my fist control, gliding and speeding the length of his darkening glory. The Demigod’s toes spread as the tension within his body peaked. I let slip a fine stream of saliva, a necessary lubricant for my whirring hand. My lip smarted as I unconsciously bit the bottom line in my fierce concentration. Another stream was manumitted and coated my prize. My right forearm began to ache from the clenched repetition, but I resolutely ignored the cramping member. The Demigod would be mine once more.
Unyielding, my fist flew until the first bead bubbled from the stark tip, in balance with the mighty roar evolving from the headboard. In a final appeal to his climax, my tongue languidly lolled in a circle around the Demigod’s rotund crown to the sensitive underside. My reward burbled up, spilling down my knuckles in creamy streams. Extraordinary need met and assuaged!
Shrouding his waning glory in a microfiber towel as I reposed alongside him in triumphant happiness. What a morning! The sunlight continued to peer through the windows, and the music spun, creating an almost ethereal space. My body implored me for sleep but my social obligations had my mind giddy and intent on maximizing our weekend.
Never in her wildest dreams could my Inner Goddess imagine that by the end of the day, our tally would be two gods, four masculine orgasms, five sexual rendezvous, and literally countless consuming orgasms on my part!
But that is a story for another day!
Until next time, XO. Elsie
Year of the Inner Goddess 