My Midsummer's Night Dream

I walk through the ancient forest with six other women. The moon is high in the sky, and its light filters through the branches. We need no other light as we make our way to our destination. Our velvet cloaks brush the forest floor as we walk. The hems flow over wild growing herbs, adding their scent to our surroundings.

We come to a natural clearing. Looking over it, my heart beats faster in anticipation. The magic of this sacred place pushes its way into my senses.

The ancient trees lean backward allowing the moon to shine down onto a stone slab altar. Time has covered it in a bed of moss and ivy. Mushrooms grow heavy around the edge of the clearing, creating a fairy circle. A stream trickles through the clearing, adding its melody to the night.

We step onto the lush grass and remove our shoes. I let my toes curl into it, enjoying the sensation. I look around at the women. They are removing their robes. They step into the stream and bathe themselves. They are made up of different heights, shapes, and sizes, yet they are all beautiful to me. The moonlight caresses their skin, making them appear luminous.

They come to me, murmuring softly and soothingly. They carry pitchers that they have filled in the stream. They loosen the ties of my robe, then take it away from me. They gather my long, curly hair and pin it to the top of my head. I gasp, sucking in my breath at the feeling of cool water flowing over my heated skin.

I smell the scent of milk, honey, crushed herbs and flowers as they soap my body. Their hands smooth it over my skin, caressing me in the process. Their ministrations arouse me. I hear snickers before cold water streams over my body. Heat and cold clash, making my nerves extra sensitive. I feel the breeze blow over the remaining droplets on my skin, and my nipples pucker.

One of the women take an oil of the same scent and smears it on my forehead by my crown. They all pour some into their hands and rub it into my body. As they knead my muscles, I feel their lips on my skin. I stroke their heads and skin, trying to convey my appreciation and affection. Their hunger feeds my own. They lead me to the altar, and I sit on the edge of it.

They spread my legs, taking turns kissing, tasting, and touching me. Their hands and mouths become insistent. So many lips and hands on me all at once makes me dizzy with arousal. I hear their moans mingling with my own. The scents of their desire entwine with mine; filling the air. They rub their bodies against mine, trying to get closer.

They push me down flat on the altar. They lean over me, pressing themselves against me. Their hair tickles my skin as their hands stroke me and their mouths find my sensitive places. They take turns kneeling between my legs. Their mouths tease me, ratcheting up my arousal with each touch and kiss.

They take turns hovering over my face, and I eagerly return the pleasure that they are showering on me. I feel my juices dripping down my legs, as my face is covered in theirs.

The eldest among us takes her turn and stands between my legs. She bends over, teasing my clit as she watches me work my face into the vagina above me. I feel close to coming, and she knows it. She brings me to the edge, then lets it fade away, building my need.

The woman above me slides down from the altar. The women form a circle around me. The eldest places her hand on me and strokes my slit with her finger; effectively gaining my attention.

"Our ancestors, the women who came before us, came to this sacred place and made a covenant with the god of this forest. Our covenant bonds us to him, his power, and this place. Since that time, we have drawn our power from here."

"Every third generation, one among us is chosen as a sacrifice for his offering. She will welcome him, his seed, and his power into her loins. After the ritual, she will be trained to lead this coven and keep its sacraments and rituals. She will oversee it and tend to its members."

"This is something that must be done of your own free will. If you choose not to do it, no blame shall be assigned to you, and we will choose another to complete the ritual. Do you understand the gravity and ramifications of your choice?"

I nod my head. "I do. I accept the choice that I have been offered. I will give myself freely as an offering for the covenant."

She inclines her head towards me. "Your gift will be accepted. Let us begin."

The women place their hands on my body, stroking my skin. Their voices rise as one, rhythmically chanting words of old. The eldest fingers my opening, spreading wetness all over my snatch; preparing me for what is to come. She inserts a finger inside me, working it in and out. She adds another, twisting and scissoring them as she fingers me. Soon, two turns to three, and she has stretched me out a good bit from where I usually am.

The women step away from the altar, standing back away from it, on the sides. I feel frustrated and aroused to a fever pitch. I hear movement in the forest in front of me. I look past my feet into the forest. I see a pair of silvery glowing eyes coming towards me. As they get closer to the clearing, I can make out the shape of a bear lumbering towards me.

It stands up on its hind legs and walks like a man. I feel a spurt of fear. I start to sit bolt upright, but ivy vines wrap around my wrists and ankles. The feeling of the ivy's waxy leaves is soothing against my skin, and I sit there, watching the beast's approach. As it draws closer to me, it's form changes into a man.

Naked, sculpted, and fully aroused. His hand reaches out. He takes a firm hold of my neck, bringing his face inches away from mine. His thumb strokes the part of my neck where my pulse is beating furiously. My skin heats under his gaze, warming the oil that was massaged into it earlier. Its scent mixes with that from my arousal, and he breathes in deeply.

His free hand roams over my body. It feels rough and callused against my delicate skin. The sensation makes me shiver. His hand moves to the back of my waist, and he pushes me forward to him. He strokes his cock against me, and it feels too big for me, even with the foreplay that I had before. His mouth descends onto mine hard, kissing me deeply.

As I get lost in the sensation of being devoured, I feel him teasing my opening with his head. It feels good, and I push myself against him. He presses his hand firmly against my back, then slides himself inside me, half inch by half inch. I whimper at the feeling of being invaded, but my pussy waters and tightens around him deliciously.

I hear him growling low in his throat as my body accepts and clings to him. I pull my knees up, planting my heels on the altar. His hand moves from my back and cups my rear. I feel his finger massaging my anus. Slowly, I am able to take in more of him, until there is no space left between us. My nipples brush the soft hair on his chest, making my nerves jump.

He releases my mouth. I lean back, resting my weight on my arms. I roll my hips against him. I am tight around him, but just slick enough to slide back and forth. He takes advantage of my position and licks my nipples. He alternates between each one, suckling and licking them. I work my hips against him faster, wanting more.

The tension inside me builds. I feel myself tightening around him. I push against him, grinding myself into him. My body jerks into an orgasm, and my muscles clench and release his cock in a rhythm as old as time.

As I sit there gasping, trying to catch my breath, the vines on my arm loosen and recede. He pulls out of me. The women come forward to the alter. They help me sit up and move me into a position where I am on my knees. Their hands move over my body, caressing my skin.

I feel him get up on the altar behind me. He positions himself between my legs. One of the women spread my lips apart with her fingers. The head of his cock pushes inside me. I moan at the feeling of being filled. He grips my hips, as he pushes himself in to the hilt.

He moves one of his hands to my throat and grinds himself into me. A soft feminine hand rubs my clit. He pulls my neck back, so my spine arches, and I feel him even deeper than what I thought possible. I feel my juices leak down my leg. I push my hips backward and undulate against him.

He lifts my rear up with his free hand, rubs the rim of my anus with his thumb, and starts moving inside me. He sets a smooth, slow pace. My fingers dig in to the moss as the pleasure builds. He applies some pressure with the pad of his thumb, and my body starts orgasming.

As my muscles clench and grasp his cock, he starts moving faster; pushing harder. The fingers at my clit become more insistent. I trip from one orgasm to the next; reduced to basic instincts and a need to find more pleasure.

The tempo of the women's chanting has raised to a fever pitch. His phallus pistons into me. I feel it engorging itself, pushing my walls apart, ready to come. As his seed fills me, an orgasm greater than any that came before rips through me. My body forces out a scream, as I hear him roar his own pleasure out.

My body becomes nothing more than a mass of oversensitzed nerves. Along with his seed, I feel his magic filling my body. The covenant has been honored.