An Awakening

But if I had hoped, expected him to immediately at least attempt to push himself inside me, I was in some sense disappointed - but in others found myself becoming even more excited by having that unique experience denied me - at least right away.

It wouldn't be fair to describe what he did to me as 'playing', his hands and fingers were far too skilful to be expressed that way - and of course he eventually proved that he knew precisely what he was doing, and why.

But at the time, as he slowly built both the need and sense of anticipation inside me, I mentally cursed him for delaying what I truly wanted, for so long.

Even when his fingers finally reached my pussy, they at first did no more than stroke, then gently slip between my by then slickly moistened pussy-lips; moving slowly, almost teasingly, up and down the slippery cleft. Then, when they did eventually reach deeper, into the hot, swampy wetness inside me, I tried to push myself back at him, urging him to thrust them, bury them even deeper. But he still denied me, saying - 'Soon your yoni will demand the lingam Josie.' - as he continued; sometimes sliding fingers slowly around and in and out, at others allowing them to reach further beneath me, heading up to tremble electrifyingly against my already fully stiffened clitoris.

I heard myself groaning, gasping, even sobbing, as several times he worked me up to an almost reachable climax - but each time letting his hand drift away from the critical point just moments before that much needed release.

It was only when I felt certain I was incapable of taking any more of his exciting, but almost tortuous caresses, that he perhaps took pity on me - he pushed my legs rather further apart, pulled me back so that my body was bent even more sharply forward, and as I did my best to fully relax myself, I finally felt the bluntness of his cock-head pressing up between my pussy-lips.

By comparison with any other man I had known, he was massive - his cock was not just thicker than anything I had had inside me, forcing me almost painfully wide open - but, as I was soon to discover, far, far longer too.

It would be fair to say that he 'opened' me - completely and utterly - stretching my pussy, my cunt, to, and then beyond, what I felt it had ever been made to be capable of. But the feelings that seared through me were the very opposite of painful - they were spectacularly and almost mind-numbingly, sensational!

Once he was satisfied that I could take him, he rode me - confidently slowly, considerately rhythmically - somehow knowing exactly when I needed him to thrust a little deeper, sometimes a little faster, then sometimes to use just the cock-head to stimulate the outer edges of my pussy.

He was a lover that every woman might dream of; not only being able to recognise exactly what I needed - sometimes a second or two before even I did - but had that dream-like combination of qualities of both physical vigour and self-controlled stamina that we might often fantasise in our idea of what would make a perfect sexual partner.

When he felt me building towards my first orgasm, he both speeded up and increased the energy of his movements, taking me to what I thought must be the strongest climax I had ever experienced - certainly if it hadn't been for the surrounding mass of greenery, I had the feeling that my overly shrill cries of overwhelmingly joyous excitement would have filled the temple, and probably even the street beyond it.

But, amazingly, he didn't come with me, instead he returned to the slower, more measured thrusting in and out of me - giving me time to not only catch my breath, but also for my body to take its time in relaxing before being taken on to the next level of arousal. Because that was precisely what I discovered; that my body was capable of experiencing pleasures far beyond any level I had ever previously known was possible.

It was only towards the onset of my second orgasm - as he nudged his cock into places I hadn't known a cock could actually reach, and I felt one hand reach around me, to begin gently but briskly rubbing my clitoris - that I felt a 'switch', a 'trigger' being flipped inside me.

Although I had thought that the first climax he gave me was as powerful as any I would ever feel, even it was shaded by the force and duration of that second one - I had simply no idea that my body was even capable of producing such intensity of pleasure for me, nor that those feelings could go on, and on, and on...

Yet, still he didn't come with me - just returned to those inexorably slow back and forth movements as my body went into its winding-down period.

Of course, in due course he did climax - in synchrony with my third - his cock pumping what felt like an over-load of stickily thick, yet balming semen into my sore and much over-heated cunt.

It was only when he left - which was as noiseless and unnoticed as his arrival had been - and I had at least begun to recover from what he had done to me, when I felt the first warm trickling of a little of the flood of semen, felt it oozing back out of me, felt it dribbling down the inside of my thighs - that I realised two things.

First that he had given me a gift - that no matter how diminutive or unskilled a lover I might find myself with, I would from then on always be able to mentally reach within myself to flick that ecstasy producing switch on.

And secondly - that if only a small proportion of the women visiting this particular temple were recipients of similar gifts, I could now well understand the steady stream of women coming there to give their continuingly grateful thanks to that sublimely generous phallus.

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