Favored & Fuced

I would love to be the favored acolyte of a divine being. Would love to be the only one allowed in the temple's inner chamber, the evening light from the clerestory illuminating the chosen humanoid form of my deity, their body draped over an oversized throne.

They're bigger than me, unnaturally tall and long-limbed, their divine nature filling this vessel to the brim. Shining skin draped in gossamer fabrics that fall away in perfect swathes framing their body.

They set me over their lap, their long fingers resting over my hips as I straddle them. I only see two hands, yet it feels like dozens tug at me in gentle yet firm encouragements. The robes fall from my shoulders as I am pulled to grind my bare cunt over their lap. I gasp and gaze up with half-lidded eyes into the veiled face of my patron. Through the mounting haze I catch a glimpse of their eyes, glinting like rubies under a cascade of fine cloth and glittering gold

Eventually I am so caught up in the rhythm of rutting my wet cunt against them, that I'm surprised when their hands lift me bodily by my hips and turn me to face the empty chamber. I feel something hard and leaking and warm brush over my entrance and I look down to see their cock resting between my thighs. I begin to move my hips once more, trying to frot my now aching tdick over them and coat them with my wetness. A low hum emanates from behind me and vibrates through my whole body. I whine and buck more fervently as hands press over my tummy and chest.

Finally, finally they take their cock in hand and lift me over it, lining me up before lowering me slowly, lovingly. I groan loudly as they push in inch by inch, letting me settle onto them at my own pace. Fingers tease over my straining tdick, easing me into the stretch that I'm now feeling in earnest. My mouth is hanging open, practically drooling by the time I'm fully seated, pressed back against my patron's bare chest.

They then begin to move. It's a slow rocking of their hips below me at first, but the pace builds. Hands grab once more at my hips, my thighs, helping me as I try to ride and meet their thrusts. I can feel them curling over me, their long tendrils of hair curtaining me in as they fuck me on their twitching cock. I feel lips and teeth at my neck and on my shoulders, nibbling and licking. It goes on like this for how long, I don't know, I'm so wrapped up in the feeling of being used and played with and adored

Suddenly my deity rears back on their throne, causing me to arch back with them, pulling my body taught. Their hips buck up into me more vigorously and I swear I hear a growl from somewhere above me. The sensation of dozens of hands returns and it's like every one of my strings is being played at once. Hands on my chest, squeezing and playing with my nipples. Hands running up and down my sides and over my stomach. Fingers playing over my dick and pressing into my cunt. Fingers teasing at my mouth, finding their way in and pressing over my drooling tongue. I moan around them, whining and keening as every part of me vibrates in ecstasy.

I feel limp as they bounce me on their cock, letting them fuck me like the perfect mortal toy that I am. I feel as though I'm floating, the stimulation somehow just right despite it coming from every possible source at once. A low hum permeates the air. They're getting close and I can feel my own release coiling impossibly into itself within my core. By now the only noises I can utter are fucked-out breathy little uh-uh-uhs as my patron drives up into me over and over.

Finally the hum reaches a fever pitch and I feel them bury their cock impossibly deep inside me, splitting me open as they claw at my sides. A hoarse, ragged moan is ripped from me as I feel them release deep inside me, filling me to the brim. It's as though every sensation crescendos at once and I come over their twitching cock, leaking heavily a mix of their cum and mine over our thighs. I sob as they rock me through it, petting at me almost reverently as I come down from the high.

It feels like an eternity by the time they lift me tenderly from their lap. I am laid over a cushioned altar, boneless and spent. They loom over me, shrouded and quiet, admiring their work. My eyes flutter closed, for who am I to deny my god their private vanity. I am theirs before anything. I rest knowing I've served them well, as I always do.