American Mom is blessed by an Indian Goddess

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I run a school here. There has been some friction between Joseph and me for a long time in that while his church has languished, my school has thrived. Over the years, I know that I’ve helped pave the way for many a child from our village to lead a better life.

And over the years, I have come to love India. In truth, although I sometimes get homesick for the United States, like my son, I too believe I could live out my life here. There is something magical and powerful about this land — something ancient and majestic that calls out to me, that has captured my heart. I was raised a Christian and still believe in God, but I quickly became enraptured in this place where religious toleration is so vital to much of its culture. Its easy acceptance of polytheism has entranced me — there is room for my God, but room for so much else as well.

My life would be a very good one except that my marriage to Joseph has turned to ashes over the years we have lived here. My husband was once a passionate lover and we enjoyed each other’s company for many years, but as India seemed to awaken and expand my reality, Joseph seems to have shrunk in body and in spirit. I cannot honestly recall the last time we made love — honest, true passionate love.

Still, as barren as that part of my life is, I feel fortunate. I have a wonderful, healthy son who has a good heart, I have my school and I have made many friends here in the village. My roots have sunk deep here. The villagers take me as one of their own, accepting this blonde, forty-six year old woman as if I were born here.

As I watch the dawn approach, my mind again turns to my erotic dream and to that perfectly formed cock. Just picturing it in my mind makes me wet between my legs. Standing beside the window, I slip my fingers through the waistband of my panties and into my furry bush, finding my slippery labia lips and spreading them apart.

As I have done many times in the years since Joseph misplaced his ardor, I begin to masturbate, imagining that long, thick penis inside me, fucking me, making me moan! I plunge fingers in and out of my pussy, clinging to the window sill with my other hand. As the heat of pleasure grows between my legs, I let my imagination build a body around that hard penis. It is muscular, a young man’s body, strong — capable of taking control of me, mastering me, making me — yes, making me orgasm!

I try and stifle my cries of pleasure as I begin to tremble, two fingers plunged deep in my pussy while my thumb feathers over my engorged clitoris, fanning the flames and taking me over the edge. I close my eyes, seeing myself kissing that young man’s chest, licking his nipples as he makes me cum, filling me with his fiery seed. He seems so familiar.

I come abruptly out of my fantasy as I hear the jangling of my son’s old fashioned alarm clock. The quiet time is over. Day has begun. I am trembling as I climb into our shower, flickers of pleasure running through me as my orgasm tries to outlast its stay.

Even a quick, cool dousing doesn’t end my naughty thoughts. Masturbating has done nothing to quell my desire for a man’s cock — for my dream lover’s cock. All through breakfast and as Jeff and I walk to school, my dream stays with me. As I teach English and Science to my young students, my mind wanders back to my dream and that lovely, long penis. By the time I get home and begin to cook dinner, my panties are a sodden mess. When I climb into bed, Joseph already asleep and snoring away, I find myself hoping against hope to have the dream again. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, I think to myself, knowing full well that it won’t happen.

I discover that sometimes wishes come true. I discover that sometimes a fulfilled wish is a curse.

BEHOLD — YOU ARE THE CHOSEN OF DANTESHWARI. EMBRACE THE BLESSINGS AND THE REBIRTH SHE OFFERS YOU NOW. OPEN YOUR HEART AND NOW LOVE FOR ALL ETERNITY. ACCEPT THE SACRED GIFTS OF LOVE AND FAMILY AND BE AS ONE. YOU ARE THE BLESSED OF DANTESHWARI!”

The words are spoken by a feminine voice that seems so powerful and lovely and erotic, it would arouse anyone, male or female. Again, I am in a warm, safe place. Mist roils around me, but I sense a presence — he is standing before me. I am prone and terrible aroused. I need to spread my legs and find a way to soothe the fire between my legs, but I am paralyzed. I cannot move. Something moves in the mists. I see him, face still in shadow. I see his cock, so huge and swollen and suddenly I can move. The silky material of my sari falls away as I open my thighs, revealing my wet cunt, labia flowered in a thick mat of brownish-blonde pubic hair. I want him — I want his cock. I offer myself up to him, thrusting my pubic mound upwards until my wet, slick flesh brushes the crown of his penis, submitting myself to him. Her voice speaks again. “ACCEPT THE SACRED GIFTS OF LOVE AND FAMILY AND BE AS ONE. YOU ARE THE BLESSED OF DANTESHWAR!” It is time. My body strains to reach him, to envelope his erect dick. I need it as I have never needed something before. I feel his cock begin to sink into my flesh and…

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