tagFetishWorship the God

Worship the God


I have always been a bit kinky. As I lay there with my head nestled against his chest, the hairs there tickling against my cheek like the hairs of a spider leg, his heart calmly throbbing its adoration like the most primitive, pulsating, amoeba as it dines, an idea struck me.

The idea was a kinky one, and one that would disgust the average girlfriend. I am not average and the idea sparked a gentle fluttering in my clitoris. I began to slide down his body, bracing my hands against the mattress and keeping my head pushed flush against his chest as it began to descend, bumping and encountering resistance where my cheek met his rigid stomach muscles.

I continued, past his pubic region, his cock meekly twitching as though it sensed my presence but was not sure I was actually there. I did not stop to chat with that gorgeous beast. My nose was engaged in seeking his anal opening. Once found, I lavished one of my fingers as if it were his organ and rubbed at his opening.

I had fingered him before. I had even used up to two or three fingers. He loved it. But my desire for him was a dirtier one today. The lovely opening flared against the pressing of the tip of my finger. The moisture of my mouth was not enough, though. I could not open his hot insides to me with just my saliva. I reached down between my own legs and inserted the finger that had been pressing at his anus, into my vaginal canal.

I found it sweltering and clenching as its walls secreted its thick, white fluid that indicated I was ovulating. This fluid from inside of me, mixed with my natural lubrication, served as lubrication to open his insides to me. I scraped up a generous amount of my natural lubrication and ovulation secretions onto my adventuring index finger.

I then slid my finger out of my vaginal canal and pressed it back against his anus and began to force it against the flaring, puckered opening. I had to take two more generous secretions from my vagina and rub them into his asshole, poking the tip of my finger into the tightly clenched ring of muscle. That was all it took. I felt the muscle of his sphincter give beneath my drenched, insistent finger.

I felt my finger sucked inside his rectum and I sighed at the almost unbearable strength and force with which his powerful internal muscles constricted around my finger. I stopped, soaking in the sensations with my sense of touch. I suddenly felt the slick, hot walls of his rectum deliberately clenching around my naughty finger.

I glanced upwards quickly as his muscular, thighs spread around my tiny body to accommodate me in my exploration of his nether regions. His cock was painfully hard, pressed desperately against his belly. I had been so intent by his inner place of worship I had not noticed his penis swell and grow and then he himself, wake up and become as interested as his cock in my activities. His dark eyes were hooded, but he was certainly not asleep. He looked down at me, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Got ya," he whispered huskily, and if possible, he grinded his rectal muscles down even harder on my finger. So erotically powerful was he inside and out that he was actually physically, holding me in place inside of him. This exercise of dominance even in his traditionally submissive position, brought images to my mind of all the times he had lifted me into his arms, pinned me to a wall, or pressed me roughly into our bed, our couch, or any other surface he could find, and coaxed my vagina into wrapping his organ in its warm embrace by tenderly, rubbing and caressing, even petting my vulva with his massive shaft and the swollen head.

Everything about how he coupled with me was a paradox. He was much larger and would pin me with his body, every muscles tensing as he worked to lift me and secure me against him. Then, his attitude would totally change as our sex organs made first contact. Then he would treat my vulva as if it were a gem. Once in, the beast came out again, and I met him thrust for thrust, rock for roll, as my own beast emerged.

Our sexual relations were not different in dynamics even when we turned the tables a little bit. So, as I lie there between his thighs, slowly, firmly, moving my finger back and forth inside of him like a windshield wiper, I fully intended to shock him.

"That was new," he said, between deep, heavy breathes of arousal.


"Using your own pussy juices. Never seen that before."

"Oh, did you like that," I murmured as the tip of my encased finger lightly poked at his prostate. His groan rumbled in his chest and rushed out from between his, plush, sensuous lips. As I distracted him with this remark, my free hand slipped back down between my legs and inside of drenched canal.

I felt his heavy, hot organ twitch restlessly against my head as I used two fingers inside of myself to scoop out a generous amount of my fluids. As I did this, my pleasure-assaulted lover loosed his anal muscles enough to allow me to slip my index finger out so just the very tip was inside of him. Before be could growl with displeasure and use his hand to force me back in, I slipped the tip of my middle finger inside. Using the traction of the newly introduced middle finger, I pried his asshole open.

Then I pushed the fingers back together and then shoved roughly inside of the rolling caressing muscles. I began to scissor him, preparing him for what was to come. I then retracted my fingers and yet again used them to pry him open, making a small, but large enough opening for my plans.

I took my other hand with the two fingers coated with my own vaginal fluids and slipped it inside of his hungry asshole, and wiped the fluids onto the gripping, flexing, rectal walls. I repeated numerous times. He was reduced to gasps.

"Shit, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen, and felt, baby," his head lolled back against his pillows, and his jaw dropped as he watched me coat his insides with my vaginal fluids, which were composed of lubrication and the secretions caused by my ovulation.

"Can you feel it," I asked as he threw his head back against the pillow as my vaginal fluid coated fingers massaged deeper inside, bumping against his prostate. He growled, his hips rushed forward and one of his hands seized the wrist of my probing fingers and tried frantically to shove the fingers deeper inside of him.

I repeated this again and again. He was panting and trying to suck my arm inside of him by the time I introduced the star implement of my plan.

"Touch my penis, please....touch me," he begged, his belly and chest rising rapidly.


I withdrew my fingers completely and he practically snarled at me. He was stopped mid-snarl as I coolly demanded that he spread his legs further, prop his lower back up with a pillow, and hold his knees in the air.

I grabbed both of his ass cheeks and held them apart with one hand, while using the index and middle fingers of the other hand to pry open his asshole. I smiled at his, "holy fucking shit," as I pressed the tip of my tongue against his pried open asshole and drove forward.

I did not merely stick the tip inside, I rammed forward, summoning all the strength in my tongue muscle to lodge as much as possible inside him. I have an exceptionally long tongue, so he got more tongue than most rim jobs include.

He thrashed his head back so hard I thought he would hit his head on the headboard of the bed. A rasping sound is all that escaped his throat as I began to swipe my tongue back and forth inside of his asshole. One of his hands clutched his fiercely swollen organ, the other, tangled in my hair trying to force me further inside of him.

His hips began to rock and roll, shoving my nose flush against his ass crack.

"Do you like.... How...I taste," he sounded more like he was in agony than in pleasure.

I moaned, "mmmmmmmmmm." And, oh, I loved it. I could feel him all around me. I felt so, so, so wet as I suckled at the straining pucker and pressed at the loving walls that cradled my kittenish tongue. The taste was indescribable. No, I did not taste shit. I tasted warm mucous, like that in his mouth, but thicker and more bitter. I tasted all of him.

I wailed briefly as I thought of how I would not taste the fluids of his penis, or his penis for that matter. But I calmed myself. I ate of that plenty of times. His asshole was terribly neglected. Today was about his gorgeous ass and its wonderful muscular tube.

Besides, he had spent the previous evening treating me like a goddess and denying himself. I was reversing the ritual. The god needs worship, too. And I brought the worship to a crescendo and the cry must have reached the eagles.

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