Year of the Inner Goddess

December 2024 – Audio Version

I had departed Mount Olympus amidst sweet fellowship and truest laughter, yet beneath the gaiety, my Inner Goddess simmered. She was tempestuous—petulant, ravenous with an all-consuming longing that neither an Old Fashion nor sharp wit could soothe. It was true I could have used my words and requested an Olympian to join me in a pavilion and assuage some of her pent-up need. Yet, in my obstinate fear and hesitation, I chose instead to stew in a quiet storm of yearning, my own pernicious saboteur.

Thus, I found myself at Jack’s door, wearied by the tempest of my swirling frustrations, vexed by the sultry warmth of a December evening. I stood before his oaken door, a miserable little thunderstorm, yet there was something about Jack’s steadfastness that quelled the storm within me. He opened his home and his arms to me, his presence a steady balm to my frayed spirit. As I nibbled at my supper, his patient ear absorbed my grumblings, a tranquility akin to that of a Benedictine monk, offering quiet solace to my self-induced, storm-tossed heart.

The evening blurred into sweet comfort: a hot toddy cradled in my hands, its warmth seeping through me, the Woodford Reserve within, coaxing my heavy eyelids into lethargy. My Inner Goddess, though still faintly disgruntled, softened, lulled into a drowsy quiet as I lay nestled against Jack’s chest. The flicker of light from the screen played over us, the drama on it rising with each passing second, distracting my mood.

Then, at a most climactic moment, Jack paused the show. His lips brushed my forehead as he murmured, “Do you know what I think?”

I smiled, a soft laugh escaping me as I assumed our thoughts were tethered to the same sweet inclination. My waistline certainly did not need a remaining Christmas threat, though my sweet tooth would beg otherwise. Yet, the glimmer in his eye betrayed him. Jack’s mind was fixed on something far more decadent.

“I think we should go to the bedroom,” Jack murmured, his voice a low invitation that stirred the air between us, “before sleep overtakes us both.”

Under ordinary circumstances, my Inner Goddess would have leapt at such a suggestion with a fervent eagerness befitting her name. Yet tonight, she lingered—entangled in her own self-made labyrinth of melancholy and discontent. She muttered faint protests, though she was hardly one to deny a rare and cherished offering of intimacy.

Hoping my mood remained a secret, I took my weary steps toward the en suite, my fingers absentmindedly tousling my drooping sapphire curls. But as I returned to the bedroom, the sight that met my eyes shattered any lingering gloom, replacing it with something far more elicit and stirring.

There he stood, my Jack, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. His bare form radiated a magnetic allure that swept away the lingering shadows in my mind. The unwavering devotion he embodied, the intoxicating masculine pull of his presence, and how effortlessly and completely his body readied itself for me, standing at full salute, never ceased to astound me.

The ghosts of my past whispered their dark commentary, as they always did, weaving their familiar threads of doubt. I was unworthy and unlovable, especially in my current state. Yet Jack, with his quiet magnificence, seemed to exist solely to silence those whispers, each tender movement a silent rebuttal to their cruel lies.

In that moment, as his gaze locked with mine, I felt the weight of his truth—steadfast, undeniable, and gloriously unguarded. My Inner Goddess, despite her earlier discontent, yielded completely, surrendering to the unwavering sanctuary of his selfless love.

He made my heart melt, and if it were possible, my soul fell even further in love. I wanted him, no—needed him.

Seeing my soft smile and the chuckle that escaped me, Jack’s lips curved into a roguish grin. “Ah,” he said, his voice rich with reverence and mischief, “my queen has needs!” With a flourish, he spread his arms wide as if offering himself entirely for my review and conquest.

Swiftly shedding the fuzzy loungers that had cocooned my legs, I slipped onto the bed, the sheets already pushed down to the foot. My garnet sweater, warm and comforting, remained in place—its coziness welcome against the evening’s slight chill. And there was always that coy, tantalizing thought of being unwrapped by eager hands, adding to the allure of our union.

I gathered him into my arms, and together, we tumbled onto the bed. Whatever weight had pressed upon me earlier dissolved like mist in the warmth of his embrace. His presence was a salve: the steady heat of his body, the quiet confidence radiating from him, and the intoxicating sandalwood musk that clung to his skin. His lips sought me, finding my throat first, then tracing devout paths upward until they claimed mine in a kiss that spoke of primitive hunger and raw desire.

I had thought, given my restless state, that perhaps my delicate might require the aid of my faithful vibrator to awaken and moisten in preparation for his bold incursion. Nevertheless, as we clung to each other, kiss after kiss deepening with a fervor that bordered on madness, such worries proved unnecessary.  

Our bodies moved with a rhythm both primal and tender, intertwining with a fluidity that bordered on ordained. With a gradual insistence, his swollen crest pressed against my silken sanctuary, parting my curtains effortlessly, his warmth and fullness filling the aching void within me. A cry escaped my lips, raw and unbidden, as the rapture surged—waves of pain and pleasure that hummed through every facet of my being, scattering thought and leaving only the exquisite now.

Ever the courtly gentleman, Jack held himself perfectly still, allowing me the moments I needed to adjust. My Inner Goddess, trembling with delight, whimpered her contentment at the exquisite fulfillment now gracing her long-denied longing.

With a measured deliberation, Jack began to move, his hips tracing a slow, deliberate circle—a practiced motion that I long ago recognized to be his signature. It drew his thick glory back while allowing its crown to graze the pillow of my most sensitive inner jewel, sending waves of singular and striking emotions rippling through me.

Yet, as sparks danced at the edges of my awareness, an inconvenient and embarrassing disturbance arose. My stomach, it seemed, had not yet finished with the remnants of my Hot Toddy, for it began to slosh in protest to Jack’s driving force. The sound, barely discernible at first, quickly grew into something akin to water trapped in a barrel, becoming more insistent with each of Jack’s impulsive thrusts. Though my cheeks flushed crimson with the indignity of it, I pressed my hands against my abdomen in a futile attempt to quell the unwelcome noise.

My sweet Jack, ever attentive, noticed my distraction and his reassuring smile sought to quell my embarrassment, reminding me that such trivialities didn’t matter. His burning presence quickly drew me back into the moment, and though his words soothed my mind, the effort to suppress the gurgling sounds became more about preserving my own sense of dignity.

A faint laugh threatened to bubble to the surface, the absurdity of the situation weaving its way into the intimacy of the moment. Though I managed to contain my mirth, the persistent burbling of my stomach punctuated the remainder of our time together. My Inner Goddess rubbled her temples at my body’s unpredictability amidst the sanctity of shared connection.

A low feral, animalistic sound tore from my throat as my head fell back, fingers clutching the solid expanse of Jack’s robust shoulders. My body began to writhe beneath him, every nerve alight as his motion—a slow, precise, deliberate rhythm—repeated, each upward stroke more consuming than the last. Six times, his measured thrusts pressed deeper, each demanding entrance past my innermost gate. My cries swelled, echoing off the walls of the grand chamber, rising in pitch and fervor with each invasion of his unyielding resolve.

Just when I thought I could bear no more, Jack amplified the barrage of his movements, his domination escalating, tipping my senses over the edge. What began as deliberate quickly became a frenzied barrage, each movement relentless and devastating. My soul cried out in a symphony of unbroken waves as his crescendoing assault intensified, causing my climax to oscillate through every fiber of my being, sending me tumbling into a vortex of overwhelming, earth-shattering sensation.

Without hesitation, Jack lifted his right arm, hooking it under my left knee with a precise, commanding motion. He returned his weight to the mattress, grounding himself as he adjusted my body beneath him. In this new position, his relentless rhythm deepened further—each push more punishing, more insistent. My cries, now fully uncontained, transformed into screams, echoing through the room as his bulging head and formidable length raged over the soft cushion of my inner core.

Convulsions tore through my body with each impact from his penetrative mastery, my ruby-tipped nails sinking into his bronzed skin with abandon. My back arched as though drawn by invisible strings, lifting off the bed, my body desperate for more, as my Inner Goddess cried, pleading for more.

A wicked, devilish delight glimmered in his eyes at the sight of my response, fueling his desire. He repeated the motion on the other side, lifting my other leg to rest on his shoulders, my petite feet just behind his head, vulnerable and exposed to his relentless pursuit. Thus anchored, he surged forward with a savage persistence that bordered on barbaric, his ferocity leaving me breathless.

With diabolical persistence, Jack drove forward, his rhythm unyielding, each descent sinking deeper, taking me with him into a glorious abyss. My body—helpless, yet driven—struggled to meet his weight, my calves pressing into his shoulders as my waist and hips lifted from the mattress, pulling him further into me. Each movement was a triumph, deepening the devastation he wrought upon my petite form with calamitous mastery, laying waste to the very essence of my Inner Goddess.

The sight of my pale legs balanced on his broad shoulders, so delicately contrasted against the deep bronze of his sun-kissed skin, sent my orgasm into an entirely new realm. The dark lines of his tattooed shoulders only exacerbated the feeling as my screams muffled behind clenched teeth, reached the distant stars. My body grew rigid, muscles spasming in lustful response, a reaction so deep and primal that my mortal mind could scarcely comprehend the force of it. Still, Jack drove his brutish hips onward, determined to push me past every limit, every ounce of euphoric climax.

The command sliced through the haze of my mindless jubilation—“Lick your breast.”

The words, unheard from his lips, now broke through the fog of my senses. My body, acting on instinct rather than conscious thought, moved with a fervor that matched his own as my tongue flicked and swirled over the ripening bud of my breast.

It was more challenging than usual, though. No, not because of my vain concern of presenting my double chins while in such a state of intimate abandon—although it would lie if I claimed that thought didn’t linger, but that was not my greatest concern. Normally, such a request was made when a body straddled mine as the god’s aubergine glory was gripped tightly in his pistoning hand. This was entirely unique, both tantalizing and nigh impossible.

With my chin tucked downward and my tongue extended, my efforts seemed to drive Jack into a maddening frenzy. If you have never attempted to caress the slope of your breast with the tip of your tongue while erupting in the inferno of hammering and explosive pleasure, I assure you it is no easy task. My head yearned to arch back, seeking release from the tension coiling within me, while my jaw ached to clench, threatening to capture the tip of my tongue in its vise. I was ensnared in a delicate dance—torn between maintaining my coquettish allure for Jack’s delight and succumbing to the untamed churning of the moment. It was wondrous and difficult, and I reveled in every second of it.

Without a word, Jack’s commanding hands gripped my hips, flipping me onto all fours. My Inner Goddess quivered in anticipation, knowing full well that if his forceful penetration had nearly destroyed me while on my back, what awaited me now would be nothing short of complete annihilation. As his lengthened girth pressed deep into my very core with the first slam, I knew I had been right in my assessment. The goaded force of his movements nearly buried me into the mattress, each powerful thrust rocking my body.

I gasped for air, lifting my head to gulp in great breaths, aware that I had mere moments before the second plunge. My hands, frantic with the urgency of the moment, scrambled for a nearby pillow, desperate to bolster my hips and abdomen, a poor support from the impending severity of his invasion.

Plunge after plunge, his forceful motions rearranged me, my body screaming in protest as waves of pleasure and discomfort intertwined. My Inner Goddess begged for more as if she could not get enough of his ravaging encroachment. It was all I could do to cling to dear life, my head sinking between two pillows, the small space between them allowing me just enough room to breathe as my hips rose high in the air, offering myself fully to the storm he was creating. The room echoed with the rhythmic sound of bodies slamming, a symphony of our raw passion.

As he slowed his demonic pace, my awareness slowly returned, though still hazy. I could hear his breath—labored, strained, still bearing the rasp of a cold. Yet the cheeky glint in his eyes remained as bright as ever, a playful challenge flickering beneath the subtle exhaustion.

With a boyish grin, Jack collapsed beside me, panting nearly as hard as I. I reached above my head, my fingers fumbling to grasp the toy, waiting patiently for my summons, the anticipation still crackling in the evening air.

“Oh, I was thinking you could ride me,” Jack said, his voice thick with desire, his eyes burning with a determination that made my pulse race. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

I could not help but smile at his boldness, the thought of him still hungry for me sending a shiver through my spine, my eyes sparkling. “Oh, that’s how it is, then?” I replied, my fingers still gripping my petite stick, my pounding heart renewing its rhythm of quivering expectation. Without hesitation, I scrambled atop him, guiding his slick glory to my throbbing slit with a reckless urgency I can barely describe. 

As I settled onto him, my knees tightened on either side of his athletic hips. A sigh of deepest gratification escaped my lips, and I tilted my chin to the unseen stars, feeling something shift deep within me. It was as if my very soul gave way, filled with a strange peace and fullness that momentarily satisfied the unyielding craving, though I knew it would never be truly quenched. The yearning, endless and continuous, seemed to fade into the background—if only for a fleeting, glorious moment.

Wanting to prolong our precious moments, I slid the tool to its lowest setting, pressing it gently against my hooded pearl. The vibrations rumbled through my thighs, cascading over his Adonis Belt. My nails dug into my own thigh as waves of ecstasy surged through my soul, my body instinctively responding to each pulse of tension. Slowly, I began to grind my hips, using his solid form for my own selfish desire, the intensity of our connection building with each motion. Yet, no matter how I adjusted my position and the device, the peak I sought remained elusive and just out of reach. 

Impatient, I flicked the tool aside, casting it carelessly from my reach. Gripping Jack’s shoulders for support, I fully claimed him, greedily using his body for my own self-indulgent design. My unleashed hips ground with blinding speed over his taut body, working his aching crown, desperately seeking the release my body yearned for until I could no longer hold back. My body disintegrated into a million sparkling diamonds, the final cry of satisfaction echoing through the room.

Our bodies were spent, our smiles weary, and at last, we collapsed into the embrace of the bed. The sound of our breath was the only noise that filled the room as our racing hearts gradually found a slower, more peaceful rhythm. Yet, in the quiet aftermath, one heart stirred, still hungry for fulfillment, a need lingering but still unquenched. Casting my gaze about, I found the discarded tool, and with a subtle movement, I parted my glistening thighs, positioning the implement just to the left of my swollen, needy pearl.

I lost myself in the accelerating waves of ecstasy, the pleasure overwhelming every fiber of my being, my mind retreating into the pure, exalted awareness of my body. A rhythmic, back-and-forth folding of tremors—like a symphony of raw emotions—embraced me, each pulse drawing me deeper into a state of ablissment so exquisite, I could scarcely hold onto it.

With the grace of a lover, constant and true, I felt Jack enter the sphere of my unconsciousness, his hands gliding across my skin with deftness, supple ease, and masculine certainty. I sighed beneath his touch, feeling every inch of my body hum as his lips worshiped each visible erogenous zone. He did not need to participate—he could have remained a mere bystander to my fiery fragmentation—but that would have meant Jack was untrue to himself, and every cell of my being knew that he took part, not out of obligation, but because it was what his body and mind craved. He wanted to highlight and intensify the swells and dips of my comatose euphoria. He longed to join with me and, through our tether, to explore the deepening pressure of my climax so that together we could shatter in unspeakable rapture.

And so it was with him, his desperate need for me, his hands kneading, caressing, and teasing with perfect precision, each touch of his lips igniting a fire that seared through me. The intensity of it all sent me spiraling into an inferno, an all-consuming blaze that devoured my mind, body, and soul, leaving me breathless, trembling in the aftermath—an exquisite, undone puddle of claimed seraphic joy.

I lay there, a soft laugh escaping my lips, utterly surrendered to the joy that bubbled within me. Seemingly by his very presence, Jack never failed to coax the storm clouds from my soul, leaving me to bask in the tender glow of the moonlight, wrapped in the fullness of life’s bliss. We returned to the couch, where we nestled close, resuming our quiet reverie. In the warmth of his unwavering devotion, Jack soothed the ache within my heart, tending to the needs of my Inner Goddess with a care so gentle it bordered on reverence. 

Moreover, as we lay together, tucked beneath the ample covers, he drew me close, curling tightly around my body, his embrace as though he feared I might slip away into the night. A bit chagrined by my earlier discontent, I now basked in the richness of his attention. In the quiet sanctuary of his strong arms, my mind, body, and Inner Goddess yielded, surrendering to the sweetest of slumbers.

Until next time, XO. Elsie