The goddess moaned as she woke, a slight stretch undulating in a gentle wave down her body.

She was facing away from me, on her stomach, her legs open in a scissor shape. Her black, tousled tresses were spread like mountain roots across the pillow and the sun through the blinds drew stripes across her back.

I watched her in wonder for a moment before leaning forward, putting a hand on her shoulder, and whispering into her ear, “Hi, you. Don’t move. You’re frozen. And mine.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “What’s this all about?”

“Your worship, goddess. You are magnificent, truly,” I responded hoarsely, lying on my side with my head resting on my hand while drinking in her chocolate curves and the way the finest hairs on her body caught the beams of light.

I ran two fingertips along the curve of her side, revelling in the feel of her, noting how her body – almost imperceptibly – responded.

“Remember, don’t move, you!” I chided.

Leaning forwards, I breathed in the scent of her hair and kissed the back of her head where the sea of her scalp met the shoreline of her skin before moving my attentions inland, to her neck, relishing the taste, the feel, the intimacy, her surrender, my power, and how she filled my senses.

“You smell fabulous this morning, goddess.”

“I probably smell of sleep. And sex,” she murmured.

“That’s what I meant. You smell fabulous,” I replied.

I explored her torso with the flat of my hand, taking my time, taking in her smooth side, her dipping waist, the wide curve of her hip, her thigh, and back up again, through her armpit, up the inside of her arm, her forearm, the back of her hand. Our fingers intertwined for a moment. Every inch of her was delectable, and mine for the pleasing.

I sat up and surveyed the terrain, a topography of the best kind, with emerging goosebumps, which, in her case, I knew was a sign of better things to come. Extending my hand’s journey, I traced my fingers down her spine, and I cupped her bum cheek, revelling in its weight and promise before kissing the side of her breast, inhaling deeply, breathing her in.

I pressed my body firmly against hers, spooning to maximise contact, and reached round to draw small circles around her nipple, which soon hardened. I pinched it gently and slowly, several times, and then opened my hand to fill my hand with her breast. I then submitted her other tit to the same treatment.

Maintaining our upper-body contact but moving my hips back, I reached down between us and touched the backs of her thighs as lightly as I could, teasing her skin there and on the backs of her knees. I could feel, rather than hear, the goddess hold her breath as I transferred my ministrations upwards towards the crease between her legs.

I dragged my mouth across the small of her neck and could hear the scratch of my beard on her skin. Biting her neck gently and nibbling at her exposed earlobe, I almost casually (but of course not casually at all) allowed my fingertips to brush across her labia. I could smell the early signs of her arousal on the skin of her neck, and for several minutes simply drew shapes across the surface of her vulva and the divine ravine of her bum, thighs, and pussy.

I bit her lobe harder as I eventually slid a finger between her lips around her opening. She was already wet, and she gasped as I made contact inside her. I could have slid in deeper, but I took my time to explore the outer rim of her entrance, coating at first one fingertip with her and then two.

I kept myself close, my fingers nestled just inside her, barely moving, my chest against her back, my face buried in her hair, simply listening to her body with all of my senses, enjoying our closeness, her arousal, her expectation, my control. Inside I wanted to rush but forced myself not to; as slowly as I possibly could, I moved my fingertips up her slit until I made contact with the goddess’ clitoris, nestling it between my fingers. I heard her inhale, just a fraction, and again, I stopped. 

The goddess moved her hips in a small circle, almost pleading for more.

“Uh-uh,” I whispered. “No moving.”

After around a minute, I relented and slid the full length of one finger slowly over her nub, only just making contact. I could feel how turned on she was now, not only in her wetness, but in her breathing, the way she held her body, desperate to writhe but forbidden from doing so. It was like she was tied down but without physical constraints 

After tracing lazy but determined shapes around her clit for a while, I moved my attention to her labia, using my fingertips to coat them with her wetness. The goddess’ breathing had changed, she was taking longer and deeper breaths as I stimulated her as slowly but thoroughly as I could.

Withdrawing my hand slightly, I pressed my thumb against her entrance. With her legs closed, she was tighter, but her wetness made entry easy, and I slid it in until my palm met her pussy and my index finger was flat against her clit. I curled my thumb up inside her and began massaging her there while teasing the side of my finger over her hood.

The goddess moaned and involuntarily moved, and I could feel her clench on my thumb. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” she apologised.

“Shhh,” I replied. I withdrew my hand away and stroked her thigh, her bum, ranging again over her body to maintain the love, the attention – the worship – but to draw her back from the edge.

As her breathing levelled out again, I returned to her yoni, sliding the tip of my thumb back into her and placing a fingertip back on her nub. I began a slow and steady rhythm, working my thumb in and out, using an inch of it at most, while massaging her clit.

I regulated my pace to bring her closer but then let her back again, several times over.

The goddess had relaxed now, surrendered, she was almost fluid against the bed. She had her eyes closed, her lips slightly open, and her breathing was slow. It was time to reward her.

I moved my hips forward and guided the tip of my cock just inside her entrance, replacing my thumb with the head, and slowly raised the tempo with my fingertip, then two fingertips, on and around her clit. The goddess was moaning, the sounds emanating from deep inside, and I brought her closer and closer, still slowly, but by now, she knew I wasn’t doing to draw back.

I could feel it steadily rising within her, almost in her stomach, as her body tightened, clenched, and then, finally, it filled her. I pressed my fingers against her clit, and she wailed, pushed back on my cock to impale herself a little more, and fell over the precipice, her body no longer under her control. Her orgasm was centered in her cunt but pulsed through her, and she exhaled in high-pitched gasps that repeated and then gently faded until she was through and spent.

Once she had stopped, I removed my hand and laid it over her, pulling her close. I was still slightly inside her, and she pushed her legs back so my knees were pressed against the backs of hers and her feet were pressed against the tops of mine.

We lay there for a while, sharing that space. Before long, I realised from her breathing that the goddess had gone back to sleep.