I want to tell you the story of Easter, my idol, my hero. The woman I most admire, respect, and try to model my own life on.
For 4,000 years, Easter was the Sumerian Innana, literally the Goddess of Sex and Fertility.
Her mother was Ningal, the Goddess of the Plants; it was her mom who filled the valley of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers with shade trees against the northern African heat, nutritious grains, and fragrant flowers.
Her brother was Utu, the God of the Sun, whose bright rays helped mom’s plants to grow and flourish throughout the valley.
Her father was Sin, the God of the Moon, by whose soft light Easter’s followers joyously celebrated the revered Goddess of Sex and her gift of Fertility.
Easter was just under five feet tall. She had full, round hips, and a luscious ass that was formed of the two most perfect globes one could ever imagine. She was also generously endowed with full, round breasts, capped by wide areoles covering nearly half of each breast. Her nipples were long and wide, and were always very hard, very aroused. All as befits the Goddess of Sex.
When Easter bothered to wear clothing at all, it was a bikini bottom loosely woven of sparkling white pearls; it hid almost nothing, again as befits the Goddess of Sex. Even when otherwise naked, she wore bejeweled headgear, also befitting the Goddess of Sex, the Queen of the Heavens.
For more ceremonial occasions, Easter would omit the tiny pearl panties she so loved to wear; instead, she would wear an ankle-length skirt, with slits up both legs, almost up to her barely covered full, round breasts.
With each step she took, Easter’s ceremonial skirt would flip open, so all could see the world’s prettiest pussy, that of the Goddess of Sex. Her pussy was described as being as moist as the rivers surrounding the valley, and sweet and sticky like honey.
Followers of the Goddess Easter used three symbols to represent her: the rabbit symbolizing sexuality (the Easter Bunny), the egg symbolizing fertility (the Easter Egg), and pocket-size stones carved into the shape of a pregnant woman, symbolizing what happens when sex meets fertility.
For 4,000 years, Easter’s stone figurines of pregnant women were as common in the Middle East as Christian crosses are in modern America.
The financial backbone of Sumerian society was the grain business. Those who owned the grain fields and the grain siloes, obtained enormous wealth and political power. The top gtra8in growers and sellers were all women, and all followers of the Goddess Easter. The grain entrepreneurs could, and did, choose the men they would bed, often a different man every night or several men at the same time. They were all faithful servants of Easter, reveling in their own and their spiritual sisters’ sexuality and fertility, as their beloved Innana taught them to be.
Her brother Utu was the first to notice that his sister Easter had reached full, round, feminine sexual maturity. He offered to make a dress that would accentuate his sister’s curves. He would grow the flax, spin it into thread, weave it into fabric, and dye it with bright colors to attract a man to her bed.
Easter said no to her brother’s offer. The man who should make a dress for her should be the man who removes that dress from her and carry her to his bed. Surely not the role of her brother.
But, Easter lamented, she had no suitor to make a dress for her and to remove it from her; to bed her.
She wrote a plaintive poem that rings as true of every woman today who has just turned sexually mature, as it did in ancient Sumeria 6,000 years ago:
My vulva, my hardened horn
My heavenly canoe
Is full of eagerness
But as for me, the Innana, the Goddess of Sex
Who will plow my vulva?
Who will plow my high field?
Who will plow my wet ground?
As for me, the young woman,
Who will plow my vulva?
Who will plow me with the mighty power of an ox?
Who will plow my vulva?
Easter’s poetic ad for a stud was posted all over Sumeria. It brought just two suitors to her door, brave enough to think they could satisfy the enormous first-time, just-awakened sexual appetites of the Goddess of Sex: a farmer named Ezekiel, and a shepherd named Dumuzi.
Ezekiel showed up first. Easter boldly asked him, “So you think you can plow my wet, fertile field with the power of a plow-ox?”
Ezekiel laughed. “So you think you can intimidate me just because you are the Innana, the Goddess of Sex? I’m a farmer. I’ve plowed many a field.”
“Oh?” Easter smiled. “I want references. Whose vulva have you plowed? I want to ask her how satisfied was she afterward?”
Ezekiel frowned. “Your title as Queen of the Heavens doesn’t scare me. I've dealt with gods before!”
“Oh?” Easter challenged. “Which god was that?”
“I know not his name. But one day, I looked skyward, and I beheld an immense cloud of dust with lightning flashing from it. Within the fire were four creatures. Each creature had four faces: in front a human face, on the right side the face of a lion, on the left the face of an ox, and in back the face of an eagle. Each had four wings, with the tips of one pair touching the creature on either side; the other pair of wings covered its body. Under each of the four creatures was a wheel within a wheel. The wings and the wheels roared like a waterfall, and then I thought I heard a voice bellow ‘Oh wheel!’”
Easter laughed. “You’re not a man who can plow my vulva deeply, with the power of a mighty plow ox. You’re not a man who can make honey flow from me, who can plant life into my womb. You’re a frightened little boy. letting his wild imagination control him.”
Easter next called for the shepherd Dumuzi to meet with her.
She repeated her plaintive poem to Dumuzi.
Who will plow my vulva?
Who will plow my high field?
Who will plow my wet ground?
Dumuzi looked at Easter joyously. She had bathed thoroughly and luxuriously, and she had anointed herself with fragrant oils. Dumuzi imagined her washing herself, caressing herself playfully, all over.
Her bejeweled headdress bathed her spectacular breasts in a soft glow. Her panties, her only garment below her neck, was a mere string of pearls, and showed him why her pretty pussy had earned her the twin titles of Goddess of Sex and Queen of the Heavens.
Dumuzi pressed his neck close against hers. He kissed her.
I, Dumuzi, will be your king.
I will plow your field
I will plow your vulva
I will plow you like a mighty ox.
I, Dumuzi, will plow your vulva.
Water flows from your field for me, your servant.
Pour it out for me, Innana.
I will drink all that you offer.
And I will bring you fresh, thick cream every day.
Observe how your beauty affects me
Observe how my tree sprouts like a cedar
At the sight of you
At the feel of you
Observe how my staff of kingliness
Turns bright red as a sweet cherry for you.
Easter’s smile beamed widely.
Then plow my vulva
Man of my heart
Plow my vulva.