sex healing place

We were lying in bed, close and cuddly.  I started having a story going in my mind, unraveling like a dream.

“Can I tell you this fantasy I’m having?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said.

Ok, well, you washed up on the shore of an island.  You were in a boatwreck and were badly injured.  So you woke up in this hut, meditation dome, healing place.  And you couldn’t see.  Your eyes were covered, and you were in pain from being injured.

These people who had found you brought you food twice a day and fed you.  Then I would come also, to wash you, and touch your skin lovingly, everywhere you weren’t injured.  You were really surprised the first time, when I started touching you in more private places.

There was a language issue, but you were delirious anyway.  We couldn’t talk about what we were doing.  You pushed me away, and I left.

Later you were thinking about how good my hands felt on your uninjured shoulder and leg, my fingers on your neck and lips, touching you as tenderly as if I had known you forever.

Your dick got hard, and you tried to masturbate, but you could barely move.  You bitterly regretting pushing me away.

So the next day, you were fed, and I came to wash you and touch you.  You had been thinking about me, and when I went for your dick, it was hard and ready for me.

I licked it and nuzzled your balls, slowly but steadily rubbing you on my face, then sucking on you, insistently, kindly.

You had no idea how many days it had been since the boatwreck, but it had been a long time since anyone touched your dick, and you were ready to come.  You were half in a dream, delirious with pain but now with joy also, and you murmured then ejaculated into my mouth, pushing your dick deeper into my mouth, hurting yourself as you strained to put your come further into me.

I accepted your semen and felt you spasm it over and over into my mouth.  I honored you as an animal and human being, loving you though I didn’t know you.  You could have been the nicest person in the world or the meanest–I had no idea.  I was just loving you as everyone needs to be loved, and giving you comfort.

Then I left, and afterward you wondered if it had really happened.  Your body felt different, but was it a dream?  You slept and hoped I’d return.

The next day, again I arrived.  You wanted it.  You wanted me, but you didn’t even know if I was the same person, as I washed you then began to make love with you.  Maybe you recognized how my hands felt, as I treated you with the same gentleness.

You were ready again, for your body to be pleased by me, and your sexual needs attended to.  I sucked just the head of your dick, and this time you didn’t come as quickly.  I rubbed you with my tongue, softly then enthusiastically, sucked, touched your soft balls, put my mouth all the way down on you, and made you shudder as you came for me.

Again you strained to get your dick deeper into my mouth.  It hurt you again, to push up into my throat, but less this time.

You began to live for my daily visits; you longed for me.  Sometimes you thought of people you’d known, who had lived with you or otherwise been close to you, and the sex you’d had with them, how beautiful they were.  But no one had given kindness like this to you, just generosity–sex ministry.

At first I’d been motivated by a sense of duty.  But I began to think of you also, at different times throughout the day.  How were you doing.  Did you like me.  Were you healing ok.

One day I arrived and you had fallen asleep, after your meal.  You woke up to me uncovering you.  I rubbed my breasts on your mouth.  You sucked at my nipples, and I wanted you in a new way.

That day was the first time I rubbed my cunt on you.  I sucked your dick for a minute, but my cunt was so warm and longing.

So I took off my skirt and gently rubbed my swollen cunt on your erection.  I didn’t want to hurt you, slowly pushed myself on you, and didn’t put pressure on the rest of your body.

You were surprised to feel the heat of my cunt, excited to feel and visualize my plump, wet clitoris against the head of your dick.  I moaned and hesitated, humping my clit against you.

You seemed excited.  I moved the head of your dick to my slick cunt-opening, and I eased myself down, around you, slipping just the head of your dick slowly inside of me.

Wow, how bold.  Was it wrong of me, to get off on you, helpless and injured?  You seemed perfectly happy, but your world was very small.

I didn’t care, as my entire being wanted to make love with you, aching with selfishness, and I slid you further into me, taking you all the way inside.

Something new had happened, and I was more connected to you now, in a way I couldn’t undo.  I began to move my cunt up and down on you, at first awkwardly, feeling your unique dick very new to me.

It was healing something in me, to force you into this tender place of me, the head of your dick so wanted, bumping deep inside me.  You were large in me, a tight fit, completely welcome.  I was selfish and didn’t care what you needed.

I took you, knew I was using you.  It crossed my mind that maybe you didn’t want to impregnate me, but it was the very beginning of my cycle, and I probably wouldn’t get pregnant if you came in me.

I quickened the pace of my humping on you, understanding better the physics of how we were on the floor, and how our bodies were, together.  I heard your breathing change and slowed down.

As I pushed myself against you slower but harder, I tried not to hurt you, thinking of your wellbeing but motivated by animal need.  I cried out, knowing I would come around you soon, scared of the vulnerability of losing myself or some part of myself, as my body was flooded with feelings.

You responded to the sound I made and strained up toward me, pushing your dick up into me, as something broke inside me emotionally.  My cunt squeezed hard around you.

I cried out louder this time, coming on you, the sound amplified in the small dome, as I squeezed around you again and again.

I held your dick far inside my pulsating cunt, and you felt the contracting release, until you began to ejaculate up into me, as my orgasm continued.  You cried out too, loud for the first time, when before you had only whimpered, coming in my mouth.

I felt your dick spasm in a new way, so intimate, and I realized we were together so anciently, connected privately and deeply.  What in the world had we done?  I stayed still, impaled on you, as we relaxed and our hearts slowed.

I didn’t know what to do.  Finally I stroked your skin like the first time, sweetly caressing your unharmed shoulder and leg.  Was this ok?  I wanted to ask you, but we didn’t have language.

I washed you and left, thought about you as I lay in my bed that night, and rubbed myself, remembering the sound you made as you came.  Hearing it in my head over and over, I rubbed myself faster, thinking of how your dick felt in my body, so vivid and simple.

I remembered how you strained up, deeper into me, and gasped quietly, lying in bed with my own partner who was sleeping.  I thought of you sleeping in your hut, beautiful, the moon shining outside, and I came on my fingers, wanting you, silently crying.

You were definitely getting stronger.  I knew the good food and rest were helping, but I wanted to believe I was helping too.  I was motivating you to heal and bringing happiness to your body.

The next day I sucked your dick like usual.  The next day, I rubbed my tits on your dick for a long time, before sucking you off.  I wanted to slip you inside my cunt again, but it wasn’t a good time, as I was possibly fertile.

I realized soon you’d be well.  Someone told me they were taking the stuff off your eyes, and you would be brought into the community, leaving your hut.  Our time was over.

I couldn’t help but want you again, shooting your load up against my cervix.  I thought it was our last visit, put my nipples to your mouth.  Now you could reach up and touch me, as I was above you.

My cunt longed for you, and I took off my skirt.  You could tell what I was doing.  You felt scared of being with me like that, again doing this ritual, pushing inside my privatest place, because you could tell also that you’d leave the hut soon, and you loved me.  How could you live without this?

But your dick was throbbing, hard, I was going to use you again, whether you wanted that or not.  You surrendered to my body, allowing my cunt to surround you there, feeling how close we were.  I rode you forcefully this time, knowing I wouldn’t hurt you.

You pushed up into me harder too, and we grunted, responding to one another, working toward collaborative ecstatic release.  We were the animals that we were, doing an important, totally commonplace, sacred, utterly profane, normal, happy, meaningless, meaning everything thing.

I intended to dismount before you ejaculated, so you couldn’t impregnate me, but I couldn’t stop forcing you into me, rhythmically shoving you into me so hard, I made it hurt me.

I rode you as hard as I could, until my back arched and my cunt squeezed around you, and I loved you, yelling as you yelled, and your come spurted up into me, also rhythmically.  We were so alive.

The next day I actually was able to return, and that was the first time you climbed on top of me to fuck me.  I was trying to blow you, and you turned on your side–I realized you were going to fuck me, pounding against me and into me, as I lay in your bed on the ground.

I lifted my skirt for you, and you were clumsy, shoving your dick into me.  You didn’t have enough energy, and you panted as you thrust and thrust at my hole, finally coming as you collapsed onto me, moaning against my neck, pumping your come into me.

My legs were spread as wide as possible, and I accepted every drop of you.  The weight of your body felt good, and I knew I would remember that pressure for a long time.

The next day, someone took the stuff off your eyes.  You were introduced to the community, never knowing it was me who had accepted your semen and motivated you to live.  You tried to stay with us but left a few days later, and I never saw you again.

But some nights, I couldn’t sleep, remembering you, and I rubbed my cunt with my hand, wishing I could meet you one more time in the healing place.  I would imagine you fucking the shit out of me, strong and completely healed, exhausting me, fucking me multiple times throughout a night, strong as a wid horse, making my cunt sore, using me like I’d used you but brazenly, repetitively, and with too much energy, overwhelming.

I imagined you returned to your old life, making love with people who wanted various things from you–your wife, friends, others, people who you might want various things from–commitment, money, children, ceremonies, status.  Of course I’d given you zero of that.

I imagined you fucking those people, how pretty they were, and my fingers rubbed my clitoris faster.  Closely I held myself and imagined your dick in them, ejaculating.

They might love you, or think they did, but I knew you in a way they never could.  I would make myself come, shaking, trying to stay still and quiet, so I wouldn’t wake the one lying next to me from a beautiful dream.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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