First Night Alone Ch. 04

I closed my eyes and tears built up beneath my eyelids and fell to my cheeks, hot tears against warm skin, many trailed leisurely down his cock. A woman's head moved at the edge of my vision and she whet about cleaning him. His finger moved back up to my breast and extended pushing me outwards. I back peddled over whelmed to put some space between us. His finger tilted up and I knelt, ever so slightly, he raised it more so I stood. He pointed it towards the direction on the sunrise and I turned wondering how I was to know how fast or slowly to move. I stared at Aisha Qandisha who was never one to be still, squatted above Tane, and was slowly dip up and down upon his frothing dark member, while they watched the spectacle unfold.

I mustered as much poise as I possible and remembered back to when we lived here more than a century ago. This time feeling of an outcast, it was hard to be in a room bustling with creatures that are just doing what they were meant to do and feeling shame for things that they did not.

Her glassy eyes slid towards Great Father and she looked back to me and pointed towards the back of the room. I turned grateful until the Midianiten god Yaw, suspended from stroking himself and an almost transparent muse to hold up his hand. It was very near impossible to ignore the long quivering ribbons of fluid clinging from his hand to the incredibly wide base of his cock, created so wide that his hips and thighs were perfect flat. When I stopped, his hand found the narrow tip of it forever hard, forever extended outward. Yaw went back to the smooth rubbing motion, the veins in his cock rising and falling under the pressure of his fingers, letting his hips rock with the motion as he pressed down on the shaft bestowing me a majestic bow. He smiled as my checks burned and face splotched through with color. I could see my Father on my far left, his anger leaked out in stifling wisps of supper hot air grazed dull as an over used blade around me.

Yaw pointed towards the direction of the setting sun and I attempted just a little grace, lifting to the balls of my feet, each in turn and letting my hip rise to move the edge of cotton, first exposing more, then less. Knowing they have seen more of me than I have, knowing their presence was wearing on me. It still gave me a just enough spine not to cower as I turned past my Father. His body was as tense as the sky before lightning strikes.

One of the many multi-armed Indian demigoddess stopped me this time with one of her gorgeous henna laced arms. I did not remember her from before, may be she was a guest as anyone seeking pleasure was welcomed, though sometimes they found leaving more than a little difficult. She was embrace by Aengus, and looking up I spotted four white birds flying about making lazy loop de loops. In one fluid casual motion, she waived me away and with a lower hand pointed me towards Great Father.

So I casually pivoted, seeing my old Milk Mother, surrounded by the grand ladies of pregnancy and birthing. Thought the great door ways at the front of the hall some milled about or stood idle watching things happen, some turned as three figures came into the room.

They were not grand, they were not lavish, but something that drew you to them. The first were two women, half bird deity half not or maybe they were harpies. They stood two heads above the man that came to stand beside them. Long soft white feathers contoured their heads and fell around their shoulders behind their backs. Strong, defined beautiful blue-black bodies with arms tapering to three thick fingers, dark skin turning to claw. The one on the right yawned to display two rows of solid white bone that clicked together perfect points rather than a set of teeth I would have never notice the man, if he hadn't stepped forward. Life seemed to cling to him because it didn't have a choice in the matter. The color of his irises were sinister shade of black, contrasting with the clean whites of his eyes. In turn, they were surrounded by lush black lashes that any girl worth her weight in gold would forever be jealous of every time they looked. The lashes stood out in stark disparity to his lily fair skin and on it went to a tight sable beard and shoulder length hair. If you looked past the dark aura, everything held a shine. His entire being was a study in opposition.

The charcoal tunic he wore was cinched so tight around his neck and the arms so long that the material flared out nearly concealing his hands and fingers. The pants he wore swept lightly against the ground. I would bet on the house that he wore two layers of tunics and pants, only because not a hint of him showed through it. Reflecting upon him dampened my slightly improved spirit quite a bit, because no one I have ever know ever hid anything that they, or someone else found pleasing.

The harpies, if that was what they truly were, stepped out and walked over to flank my Father. The black and white man came to and positioned himself next to me. I could taste copper on my dry tongue and my belly suddenly felt heavy and began to twist deep inside.

Everything here is so old that things aren't explained, because everyone appears to know what's was happening. The fact that I didn't have a clue started to make my heart beat against my chest a little too hard. I turn the full circle to face our Great Father, still relaxed playing with a huge red upturned ass with the pinky of his left hand.

"Great Father, please tell me what I am to do for you?" I asked keeping eye contact.

"Go where he takes you, do what he says." And the man reached for my arm and I could not stop the sideway stride to keep just out of contact.