Hopefully you have sex with a goddess all the time.
There’s this goddess I visit in my mind. She’s like me but giant, stronger, more stable, older. She’s very trustworthy. When I feel sad or scared, I go to her–she holds me.
She’s a Mother Goddess. She sits on a colorful throne–the main color of the throne is red, but there are bold colors swirled around. Kinda like if you melt crayons together, and most of the crayons are red. The throne is huge and angular, rigid, but magically comfortable.
This powerful giant goddess older version of me is totally comforting. I go to her–we don’t talk at all. I curl up in her lap, like a kid, though I’m myself. We need zero language.
She cares for me. I can recover, there, without worries. She could gently rest her hand on me as I cry, or she could stroke my hair. We just commune there.
She could hold me in a hug. Or she could just keep me on her lap and stare off, content, and let me feel however I feel. She’s good with me, doesn’t need to change me or fix me, but heals me with her love.
It’s a sacred place, like ritual space. It’s pretend, but it’s also as real as anything. Maybe she’s God, the one who spoke to me before. I don’t know. But sometimes, that’s the best thing for me, when I’m hurting or upset.
I never really told anyone besides my spouse. But I’ve been doing this for years. Do you do stuff like that? I would recommend it! Our minds can have fears, which are like bad fantasies, so we might as well have some helpful, healing fantasies too.
A new thing is–the other day when I was having sex with my spouse, I was with that goddess, in my mind. We were both naked, I was curled up on her lap, and I was sucking on one of her nipples. I don’t think milk was coming out. It was sweet and sexy, deeply nourishing anyway.
You know breasts are my favorite thing. Goddess breasts are the best possible ever. Hers are large, hang down, soft to the touch, easy to hold. She feels clearly what I’m doing and doesn’t have a big reaction. It’s pleasurable to her, but not unexpected.
In this sexual fantasy, my spouse arrived. He was naked too, deliciously so, fitting perfectly with us. He was having sex with the goddess and sometimes with me also.
Close to us, my spouse stood near and held the goddess, embracing her generously, part of the tableau. He slid his wanted dick into her goddess cunt, which was open to him, on the throne. Then he fucked her sweetly, as she nursed me, part of the kindness and safeness.
His dick in her goddess cunt was happy. We were all aroused together and feeling very well. We had our roles; he was welcome and belonged there. The fantasy didn’t include any orgasms. It was not dramatic. We were just together in that close tenderness.
Other times in that fantasy, my spouse was touching my breasts as I held and sucked the large breasts of the enthroned goddess. Is this weird? Sorry if my fantasy is weird. I tell it like it is.
The fantasy shifted. I would think of it for a while, as my spouse and I were doing it. Then my mind would drift to another scene with other people.
But I would come back to the goddess scene. It feels powerful. The red of the throne, the solidness of the goddess, the years of imagining just me and her, and then the addition of sex, including my spouse, the dick-bearing lover. I’m glad I wrote it out; I want to remember. I’ve had a thousand fantasies, and most are forgotten.
What do you imagine, when you’re masturbating or having sex with someone else? Does it change, during a particular sexual encounter, or through the years?
Another day, I’ll post about the fantasies I had as a kid. Thanks for witnessing me.