Blame It On Bacchus

Tired of being the only woman in the courtyard not wholly consumed but lust, Portia centered her psyche and reached out to commune with Divine Venus. By no great coincidence, Portia’s Goddess was en flagrante as well. Rational thought washed away as Portia was borne aloft on the wave of her amorous Patron’s Divine Orgasm. She clutched the sweaty manes of the young vestals who eagerly played at her nether regions and let out an adulant cry of pleasure.

* * * *

Naked, drunken Vesta rolled about in her patch of lavender, then got up on hands and knees, beckoning Bacchus with a wiggle of her shapely rump to once again enter her. The Wine God’s divining rod was drawn unerringly to her flowing well.

Amid the impeccably sculpted shrubbery, the fragrant herbs, and the tasteful stonework, Vesta and Bacchus rutted like beasts. They grunted and groaned, jibbered and moaned as their godly flesh strained to occupy the same space. The flame that had always been contained within the hearth goddess raged on, consuming everything in it’s presence, fed by the volatile spirit of the god of wine. Together, their raging inferno built towards climax.

“Oh! Ung! Nnnnnnnnng!” Bacchus cried as his hot seed flowed into the goddess.

“Ah-Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!” cried Vesta as her inner fire exploded, filling her being with heat and light as ecstasy overwhelmed her. Her drunken lover flopped beside her in the lavender, panting, but she was only vaguely aware of him as she rolled about. Her psyche expanded to fill the entire universe.

As the drunken goddess reveled in her orgasm, She became aware of the exultant prayers of her clergy, singing her praises with a heady fervor she had never known. Crossing her eyes, she reached out with her divine senses to find that in each of her temples, all of her priestesses lay sprawling, grinning, and drooling, over come by Vesta’s excesses.

“Oops!” said the drunken goddess, then collapsed in a fit of giggles.

END

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