(That I can go at for hours)
We’re a little settlement, with a few hunters, a few gatherers, a big deal of farmers, a bunch of clay crafters and a shaman. He was raised by the shaman before him since he let go of his mother’s breast. I’ve never seen him before. Today all the maidens will bring the grain for him to bless. I stand in line with the others, all of us wearing our loin cloths; some girls have pulled their hair back and let it cascade down their backs, but I let it fall to the sides of my breasts. We’ve painted red lines up and down our arms and thighs. We’re supposed to do it ourselves, but we always end up painting each other and pinching one another now and then. The sun is about to rise when we reach the ceremonial bonfire. I try to look ahead and get a peek of the shaman but he’s beyond my view. I can hear him chant as he accepts our offerings of berries and flowers. Some times he’ll yank the hair of a girl and burn it on the bonfire, and some times he’ll yank a loincloth and make a girl squat. I was told to quietly obey. Some girls are on their period and get their backs whipped with a bunch of sacred herbs. I’m lucky not to be in that part of my cycle.
The line starts to move, which means he’s been getting offerings and sending the girls to sit around the bonfire. I’m excited to be here today, because it means that from today on, I can choose men to mate with. I think of the times I’ve peeked at mating couples and feel my body responding. Tonight, that could be me, mating, writhing, moaning. It’s almost my turn, and my breathing is deeper and faster. I feel my chest pumping life blood to my limbs. I peek again and finally see him grabbing a wicker basket from a bored girl and yank her hair. He’s bulky, muscular. His arms and calves are decorated with palm leaves and feathers, and they look so tiny tied to that big mass of muscles. He’s so tall. My loins tingle, for when I face him, I’ll be able to choose a man… much like him.
The line keeps advancing. There is mamak escort only a girl before me, who is very obviously bored and impatient. The shaman grunts behind his clay mask and grabs a bundle of sticks. He grabs the girl by the hair, makes her turn around and whips her ass. I don’t understand what happens… then the girl starts to laugh. He sends her to sit down by the bonfire, and she giggles while biting her bottom lip and digs her nails on her thighs, looking at his loincloth.
I step forward and hand him the basket, fighting the urge to look at his loincloth. He doesn’t take my basket and looks at me. He growls and points at his chair -which he hasn’t used at all. I place my basket before the chair, bending over, thinking of how soon I’ll be mating, finally. I feel a drop sliding out of my loin. He’s right behind me now, breathing deeply. I turn around to face him and feel his eyes on my body. Instinctively, I hold my hands up, feeling my hair caressing the side of my breasts. He grabs my wrists and walks forward, guiding me. I try to look at his feet and mine to avoid tripping but my eyes land on his loincloth. There is something lifting it up and it’s pointing at me. He guides me effortlessly to the ceremonial altar. I feel the cold stone pressing against the back side of my legs and his warm skin against the front of my thighs. He grunts through his breathing and grabs me by the waist, laying me on the altar. His loincloth can no longer cover his manhood. I’ve never seen one this close before, and certainly not one this big. I lay on my back with my legs spread, receiving. He yanks my loincloth away and feels my womanhood. His hand makes me realize how wet I’ve grown since he started touching me. I’m facing the other girls, and he’s got his back turned to them. Only I can see his face now as he removes his mask and licks my lips, my cheek, my neck… I feel the inside of my womanhood responding. he licks my breast and my belly urgently and then my womanhood.; ankara masaj yapan escort I’ve never seen this before, I didn’t know it could be done. A yelp escapes my lips, surprising me. I see him knelt down, working to make me grow wetter and wetter, my limbs trembling.
Soon, he stands up and yanks his loincloth away. I see an impressive pillar emerging from a could of curled hair throbbing in his hand. He looks into my eyes, I look at him back. His hips approach mine, he curls up atop me, his warm breath on my lips. He licks my cheek and softly nibbles my bottom lip as he pushes his manhood inside my novice slit. it stretches me open as it enters more and more. I let out a few happy whimpers. The other girls gasp and some try to take a closer look, but dare not abandon their positions. I feel my soft insides tensing around his flesh. I’ve never felt anything this thick, or long, or stiff, or hard; I never knew I could fit something like this inside me and I feel so full. I can feel the eyes of the other girls on me and I shiver. His hips begin to thrust and the world around us starts to melt away. I’m finally mating… I’m getting fucked hard by a huge man with a huge manhood and every maiden in the village is watching. I can’t keep quiet. I moan louder as he grows faster. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as his reach down to my hips.
His speed increases and I feel waves of pleasure reaching all of my body. He stops briefly and I dig my nails on his flesh, for I don’t want it to stop. I demand him to continue. He lifts me up and continues fucking me standing up, as I wrap around him better than any grass skirt he’s ever known. He gropes my fleshy bottom, hips and thighs. I scream at this point. I look at the girls behind the bonfire. Some have started to reach under their loincloths, they all look attentively. I’m getting fucked in front of an eager audience. He throbs inside me, fucking me frantically. I rake his back with my nails, mithatpaşa escort lock eyes with a girl and feel a wave of pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced flood my body, and beyond it. His manhood fills like a rock inside me and stirs. I want to demand more but can only moan. He holds me tighter and his great pillar pushes deeper. He grunts like a beast. I feel another climax flooding my body when his load shoots up inside my tiny soft womanhood. He holds me for a few moments as he catches his breath and lets me down, our mixed juices dripping down my thigh.
He puts his mask back on, his face again concealed from the maidens and guides me to his chair. I put the basket on the floor and he sits, and guides me to sit on his lap. He gestures to the next girl in line to walk forward. He makes them leave their offerings in a pile around the altar while I lean on him and play with his long hair. Some elders and some chief farmers have arrived to watch. After a few more girls have gone to sit, he looks at me and grabs my breast. I rub my thigh on his hip and feel his manhood growing harder. He helps me up, then stands up and turns me round. He bends me over the chair. I can’t see when he’ll take me this time and that makes it better. He spreads me open with his hand, and I shiver thinking that the men can see me too. He sticks his great thick pillar inside and takes me from behind. With every thrust I feel like an animal in heat, like my only purpose, like the only thing that I am is fuckable. Like the only time is right now.
There’s only me and his very hard self. He’s just as vigorous as the first time and soon I climax again. And again. I try to catch my breath and he’s unrelenting. I remember I’m being watched and shiver, climaxing once more. My body is expecting more. Soon he gives me the load that he’s been keeping for me. It’s more than the first time. I try to move but my limbs refuse. He grabs me with no effort and sits me atop him again. I lean on his chest, smiling, giggling, sighing. He places my hand over his heart. He uses his hand to dismiss the maidens who still wait for their turn, which confuses them. The elders guide them back to their homes. Tomorrow they’ll return with new offerings. Right now, the shaman and I drift into sleep on his chair, surrounded by fragrant offerings.