Confessions of a libra

Goddess worship | Credit: Here

[ Explicit content warning. Read at your own risk; oral sex (f receiving) | sex as ritual | fingering | body worship ]

17.06.25

I waited for him in the dark. At least it felt like it. A comforting pressure over my eyes, I sat with my back ram rod straight and my legs crossed at the ankle. My hands entwined, cupping a knee – like a lady. I was dressed in my black evening dress with the lace trim. Cool air hit my chest, where the perfume oil was still drying on my skin. I felt prepared. Adorned to be lavishly disrobed and ravished. Is that not what ladies deserve? His footsteps hit me first, then his scent. He stood before me, heat radiating from his body to mine.

“You ready?” He asked but it felt rhetorical.

We both knew I was. I reached my hand up and his confidently gripped me, providing me the leverage to stand in my heels. I felt a little giddy and tried to remember how to walk. He sidled up behind me, arms tightly wrapping around my waist.

“Mmhh… You’re so soft. It should be illegal for your waist to feel this good,” he laid a soft kiss on the crook of my neck.

My breaths came in shorter, my body hyperaware of every place our bodies connected. We swayed for a moment, blissful and in excruciating anticipation. His lips travelled down my neck, skimming. Landing another kiss before whispering in my ear.

“I’m going to guide you from behind. There’s no steps, you only have to walk forward. Let me steer you, can you do that for me?” His tone low and commanding.

“Yes,” it came out in a breathy whisper.

I took one step, and then another. He kept is hands on me, anchoring me with his presence. I focused only on staying steady. We made a couple of turns and he stopped me with fingers splayed on my chest and abdomen. He held me to him, my neck opening up again in surrender. He never had to beg for access, he had well and truly earned it.

“I want to create rituals with you. This is my offering,” he spoke in a measured tone.

I felt the tie loosen behind my head and the satin blindfold slid into my waiting hands. My eyes opened slowly, wanting to prolong the moment. The room was lit by over a dozen candles, a mixture of the pillar candles, tea light candles and figurine candles all safely encased in various glass containers. It was a beautiful combination of red and black candles – which roused the romantic in me and the inner vixen. I let out a slow, awestruck wow as I absorbed it. My heart skipped a beat and heat rose in my body. I turned back to look at him.

“You want to do this, again?” I asked, a little hopeful.

He held both my hands in his and brought them up to his lips. He kissed my hands, eyes penetrating mine – sending all sorts of naughty messages.

“I don’t ever want you to compromise your magic. You deserve to be worshipped in a worthy temple.”

I rushed into his arms, burying my head in his chest. His chin settled on the top of my head. The warmth I felt bloom in my chest was fast spreading into other parts of my body. Ravenous parts. I pulled away enough to look up at him, pout laid on for added effect.

“I need you. Now!” I said with all the urgency in my cells.

Suddenly, he was on me and I couldn’t differentiate between his skin and mine. His hands where everywhere all at once. My heart racing, the heat pooling above my warm thick thighs. His hands slid the straps from my lacey-trimmed bodycon and I welcomed the shed. A need overcame me and suddenly I was guiding his hand to squeeze my left breast. My body lit us as that need was expressed and I heard a little noise burst from his throat. He liked it when I took charge, letting my body dictate the flow. He liked being at the mercy of my needs and whims. He found solace in the servitude.

Soon I was naked before him. He lifted me up before my mind registered what he was doing and laid me gently as I giggled from his assertive handling. He knelt on the bed and crawled up to me, hungrily. I squealed when he pulled my legs to slide me exactly into the position he wanted beneath. His mouth descended upon me and my legs lifted to perch on his shoulder blades. Feet arched and ready to stabilise the body as I pushed and circled my hips all around him. His hand anchored me by holding my lower belly down as he consumed me, passionately. He lapped me up in different tempos to keep me stimulated. He always knew how to keep a woman in her body.

I battled him as his pressure deepened, fingers filling and curled to perfection. I let nature take her course as I bucked beneath him. He took it all, and kept his attentions consistent when I warned him I was near spilling over. He remembered his post, and when I came he came down with me – not leaving anything to chance. Little gasps escaped me with each subsequent lick. Until his tongue settled into a comfortable rhythm and then my moans got longer, lower and even deeper.

I rode his tongue and the wave to completion. I felt a little burst of pleasure stream from me. Just enough to tease, but not enough to satisfy. He drank up everything, leaving nothing to waste. Mouth occupied, hands grounding the pleasure. Electrical pulses crackled all over my body from my belly, to my spine and down my legs. He gave his offering, and the Gods had accepted it. Seen fit to bless his tongue with my release. I took longer breaths and worked on slowing down my panting. He looked up at me, his expression half-drunk from our ritual of surrender.

“Do you want more?” He murmured.

I looked down at him, my fingers stroking then gripping his hair possessively.

“Give me everything.”