May 2023 – Audio Version

Some nights do not call for the carnal intoxication of passion. Sometimes it is simply two weary souls at the end of a long week yearning to spend an hour in the consolation and warmth of another’s arms. Such was our evening.  

Our late dinner lasted a splendid hour or so, catching up and lighting in one another’s company. Yet, the week’s exhaustion was evident in the weariness of our shoulders and the tightness around our eyes. I assured him the evening could end with just our meal and his company. However, the Demigod insisted all was well, and he would like the pleasure of my company in his bed. My Inner Goddess was wildly relieved to hear this as our assurances to him had not been her opinion, and she felt that it had been rather a blatant lie spoken for his benefit.  

The fantasy of standing in the soft quartz light of his room, slipping the spaghetti straps from my narrow shoulders as he lay on the wide bed and allowing the silken material to waterfall down my body, revealing my utterly nude form, was wildly attractive. Paused at an exhaustingly long, red light, I slid the pale slip of material veiling my goddess down one leg and through the opening of the other leg. I know; why wear anything in the first place if I did not intend to show it off? I find myself strangely adverse when it concerns going commando. Tonight had even been one of the rare occasions where I had allowed myself to go without a brassier, yet the thought of going commando had me most uncomfortable. What if I was in a wreck, and my nothingness was revealed to the world? Horrors! I tucked the slip of material away as I pulled into the driveway behind him. 

As the Demigod refreshed himself, I waited in the soft amber light, flipping through the book on his nightstand. This was another notch in my esteem for the gentleman. An avid reader myself, I am always eager to peruse his library and listen to his recommendations. 

“Well, I guess now you’re the one who’s overdressed.” A voice rumbled from the doorway.

I knew the sight that would greet me, yet a rosy blush painted my cheeks as his broad, athletic form bore down on me. Waiting to enact my fantasy, I had remained in my summary jungle green jumpsuit, eager to reveal the nothingness underneath. He sat on the bed and, in a decisive move, pulled me over to straddle his body, the silken fabric of my clothes whispering over his nude form as his deft fingers interlaced my sapphire hair. He pulled me in for a long, wanton kiss. All plans and ideas evaporated as he crushed me to his chest.

His fingers hooked the tiny shoulder straps, allowing the cool material to cascade down my shoulders, dropping to my hourglass waist. My exposed nipples perked at the exposure to the chill of the room but were instantly warmed as his massive hands cupped them, drawing the pair to his face. Tiny kisses were placed all around my ample bosom, and his fingers continued to work the thin green material over my wide hips until I could wriggle my legs out from their enclosure. I closed my eyes to just experience him. There was stillness in our naked bodies as I sat astride him, a feeling of precious souls meeting in the most intimate of places.

“Come here,” he whispered, calling my body to straddle his face. 

Despite spending 15 years in a previous life, sitting on someone’s face is a new and novel experience, and I am not quite sure what to make of it. I fully embrace devouring a man’s yearning glory, but for the life of me, I cannot fathom why a person would want to reciprocate with me. Tonight, I was too weary to debate with the naked Demigod between my thighs, not that I had much choice as his hands cupped the curves of my buttocks, propelling me toward the iron swirls of his headboard and his waiting tongue. 

His mouth churned my pearl until the whites of my knuckles showed as they curled around the metal filigree of his bed. The Demigod’s hands were gentle as they slowly moved up and down my body, caressing one breast while cupping my hips and buttocks in such a way I felt beautiful and seen, just from his fingertips. His tongue never ceased its worship of my pearl. My Inner Goddess moaned deep within her soul as our body shivered at the exertion of our now-fading orgasms.

“Your turn.” My head hung down, my fingers still clutching the fretwork, before sliding off his face. 

“As the lady wishes,” he responded. The Demigod leaned to his nightstand for protection, but in doing so, the soft light caught his glistening tip. My mouth watered, yearning for his sweet nectar. Bending my head, I opened my lips, my tongue swirling as I took him tenderly so as not to startle him. His face stretched to the heavens, one hand resting on the top of my curls as a deep groan rumbled from his chest. 

His fingers wandered my body, moving ever lower until they were rewarded with the wet lips of my goddess. The foil was set aside as he positioned himself on my left, burying his fingers all the way to my hidden jewel. How he finds it so expeditiously, I shall never know. My mouth was still wrapped around his throbbing glory. Carefully using my lips to sheath my teeth, I held him as deeply as possible while I screamed my pleasure until my nectar sparkled on our bodies. 

In one smooth but abrupt move, he adjusted me onto his body. Being ridden is one of the Demigod’s favorite positions. He relished feeling my quivering legs gripping him as his monstrous length was buried within my goddess, listening to my cries as he licked, pinched, and teased my nipples. My orgasms pulsed through me as I used him. Though deeply satisfying, this was not our usual ferocious encounter, with our bodies slamming together in animalistic intensity. Instead, the evening was simply a man and a woman shutting out the world as they lost themselves in each other’s embrace. There was a certain amount of consolation in our familiarity and tiredness, no expectations or sense of performance—just two naked souls blending into one. 

The Demigod caught me off-guard as he curled up, reversing our role as he gazed down into my upturned face. He might be bone-weary, but the Demigod still had a bit of strength for an impressive move. He had not slid his thick glory from me in the slightest in his acrobatic maneuver. A broad grin spread across my face. My Inner Goddess adores being maneuvered and surprised with new positions. We were beyond impressed.

Turning my head to the right, I could just see us see our lower halves reflected in his wardrobe mirror. Only below my waist, legs curled around his hips, toes pointed, and his glorious rippling thighs and buttocks could be seen. There are not enough descriptive words in the English language to describe the sight of this Demigod in motion. His thighs bulged and pulsated, calves flexed, and thick hands gripped my tiny waist for balance as his onslaught pounded my goddess. 

He noticed my delighted gaze, and his thrusts became barbaric. Despite my intense orgasms, my eyes refused to roll back and close in concentration. I could not look away. Unable to see our faces, it was as if I was witnessing another couple’s dalliance just out of my reach. I found it highly erotic. My orgasms exploded like fireworks at the vision. I could have watched our bodies for hours, but time can be a cruel mistress.

He withdrew, and I felt the sad emptiness consume me. The thought of tasting his nectar cheered my Inner Goddess, and she licked her lips in anticipation. The Demigod knelt between my legs while my hands traced his oak-like thighs and heavy jewels. Not satisfied with his position, the Demigod tapped my legs, and I straightened them as he moved up to straddle my waist. He teased my nipples with his dripping head as I presented them for his attention, leaving a trail of syrupy pre-cum on my nipples. His hand strokes were slow at first, and I smiled as I watched him touch and caress himself, a show all on its own. 

My tongue flicked out, and feeling my warm breath inches from his darkening head, his hips inched nearer. I wanted to swallow him, encasing him in my throat, but the Demigod was far too close for that. So instead, I massaged, fondling my breasts for our mutual delight. His hands furiously worked his stretching glory. Not that I was eager to be away or hasten our intimacy, but the next time he tilted his head down to watch my movements, I turned my tongue’s attention to my nipples, flicking and licking with just the tip. I was rewarded with an even more resounding groan and desperate stroking. I watched as his muscles tensed and his body sought its explosive release. The Demigod’s breath and moans redoubled as his hips, of their own accord, inched closer to my waiting lips. 

When it comes to sampling a man’s nectar, there is always a slight tinge of hesitancy. With each gentleman, there is a wide range of distinguishable flavors. Even between engagements, different notes can be detected within the creamy nectar. Occasionally, a discernable sourness resides within the nectar with a twist of something I cannot quite place. Not necessarily unpleasant, just what it is. This also adds to my uncertainty when I receive gracious propositions. Despite my best efforts and preparation, what if I, too, taste briney to my guest? My Inner Goddess shudders at the thought. 

Tonight, I found the Demigod’s to be the sweetest honey-flavored nectar as his orgasm uncontrollably burst forth. Hot ropes hit the back of my throat and wetted my breasts. My Inner Goddess cheered in triumph. Then, in a daze, the Demigod dropped his hands on either side of my shoulders as he supported himself on all fours, quivering above my body. I traced his quaking shoulders and gently kissed his scruffy cheek. 

“Well done,” I whispered as he heaved and chuckled.

Rolling over, we collapsed into each other’s arms. Only then did I realize gentle music was playing as a caressing breeze wafted over our bodies. Despite his exhaustion, the Demigod still had time to hold me close, my favorite part, my nose nuzzling into his strong chest. 

The poor Demigod was done for the night, his body quickly going limp. I placed a kiss on his sternum, drawing in his deep musk as I quietly rose to dress. His body was irresistible to my Inner Goddess. Clad in my garment, I moved close once more, placing a kiss near his inner thigh, a second on his groin – my lips brushing his drained glory, eliciting a weak moan. Another kiss on his chest and a last tender embrace on his chiseled cheek.  

“Text when you get home.” His words were so faint not a muscle had moved that; I almost missed it. 

“I’m not going to wake you up for that.” My curved finger caressed his cheek. “Sleep.” I crooned.

“Text me…see…it…morning.” His voice was a little stronger this time, with a hint of his old dom self.

“Tssk. I will, now, sleep.” I rolled my eyes at his bullheadedness, but honestly, it meant the world, and my tiny heart glowed at the thoughtfulness. 

I gave an affectionate goodbye to Bradley, the bestest of dogs. A new feeling washed over me as I tiptoed through the front room, gathered my things, and slipped into my heels. Shutting the door behind me, I paused on the porch to sift my emotions. Masculinity. That was what I was feeling—a twinge of what must be raw masculinity. In almost a year, this was the first time the Demigod had not escorted me to the door, kissing and leaving me weak in the knees before driving home.

Tonight, our roles were slightly reversed. At the realization, my Inner Goddess was quite jubilant. At that moment, the Demigod was lying naked, worn, and mostly asleep in his tousled bed. I was the one slipping out, leaving energized and about to drive away. With a slightly smug smile, I skipped down the veranda to my waiting automobile.

Until next time, XO Elsie