A Goddess Is Revealed

It started when I visited my favorite art gallery. I am quite a fan of beauty, whether it be in a painting, a poem or a person. When this story starts, the gallery had a new exhibit that I really wanted to check out, in part because this love of beauty, but also in part because everyone was talking about how entrancing its new exhibit was.

And they were right. The new exhibit was absolutely fascinating. Each took place on a cold mountain, with images that ranged from the strange - a wolf man falling from down a mountain, or the sun painting a river - to the sexual.

In particular, I found myself obsessed with a full-scale picture of a tan, slender woman, walking out of a cave. Shadows hid most of her body, but light revealed her round, upright breasts, whose nipples were covered with two thin locks of blonde hair, as well a lean, muscular leg taking a small step forward. It was entitled, "A Goddess is Revealed."

Something about that painting was at once magical and real. Despite the fact that she was obviously fictional, I fell in love with her. I visited the exhibit whenever I could, and found myself imagining her when I couldn't. I even had a dream, where I swam up a river to find her. This was especially strange because I had never dreamt about any woman before, let alone a painting of one. I gave my day with gorgeous women; my dreams can be my own.

One Wednesday, when no one but me was in the gallery, and I was staring at the picture, I saw the girl's hand raise slightly, so her delicate fingers were in the light. I decided I must have noticed something new, which was absolutely thrilling, because it justified how much time I was spending in the gallery, at least to my mind. But when I noticed her extend her entire arm into the light, I knew something else was happening.

I stared at it, that appendage, thin yet strong like the rest of her, and so close I felt like I could reach out and touch it. I reached out for it and I could almost feel the tips of her fingers against my own. I took a step forward. She then grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the snug cave, empty save a bed, which was pushed up against the left wall, and an altar of lavender-scented candles behind it along the right wall.

"What happened?" I asked, her hand maintaining its firm grip around my arm. I turned around and saw the art gallery fading into a view of a mountain's downward slope, plateauing at a triangle of farmland. One of its sides was formed by the mountain's base, another by a cliff, and the third by the edge of a forest. A river ran from the forest into the triangle and off the cliff, parallel to the mountain's base.

She spun me around and pulled my body close to hers. My hands landed upon her firm chest. As I held them lightly in my palm, I felt her lift her knee between my legs. I closed my thighs, to stop her. While she was my sole obsession, I was too scared and confused to enjoy this.

"I am Desewen," she whispered into my ear, "a high priestess of the land of Hina. I prayed to the gods for a servant, and I suppose you're him."

"I'm not..." I shivered.

She placed her hands up my shirt and onto my back. Noticing how warm her skin was, especially compared to the icy air all around me, made me want to get even closer to her. I could see in her eyes that she knew her power as she flung my shirt off and backed up a few steps.

I instantly moved forward, to close the distance, and she used this momentum to through me on the bed. She then climbed on top of me, her legs trapping my torso with the fragile strength of their embrace, her breasts hovering over my face bare and bold, her warmth flowing into my body and putting my shivering at ease. I flung off my shoes and socks and, with her help, pulled my pants off.

Having no clothes on in front of her made me feel vulnerable. True, she had been just as exposed as I was for a while, but her confidence about her nude body was intimidating. She had pulled me into this new world and stripped me of everything I had from the old one.

With her legs, she flung me over herself, so she was lying down beneath me. She then backed up against the wall, all the while pushing my shoulders down and away with her soft feet, until my face was between her thighs.

Normally, you should know, I'm kind of selfish, especially in matters of sex. However, I felt myself going along with her demands, kissing her clitoris and slowly pushing my tongue into her slit. I became wholly involved in this process, my only other thoughts being what my hands felt as they explored the rest of her body.

She was completely smooth, from her firm, sleek calves to her delicate arms; her only hair was the blonde waterfall on top of her head. Her figure curved with a ceaseless flow, each part giving way to the next with perfect smoothness. It was as though she were sculpted; it was as though she were designed.

She began moaning, slowly and quietly at first, but with a gradually increasing intensity. Her body started moving with my mouth, until our bodies flowed together into a single passion. She let out a final rejoicing cry and then sat up against the wall, leaving my tongue sticking out like an panting dog's.

With her index finger, she pushed me down, laid on top of me, and began kissing me. I tried to enter her a few times, but each time I did she lifted her butt up. Normally, I would have gotten angry at this refusal, no matter how much I wanted the girl, but for some reason I could only think of my desire and eagerness to please her.

Once she was done teasing me, she allowed me inside of her. As she rode me, she placed my hands on her breasts, her hair bouncing over them. She moved faster and faster, and I with her, until I was about to climax. She then slowed down, as if to stop me.

She let me approach climax three more times, each time making me that much more desperate for release. She was in my head, manipulating me into submission. She wanted me to her satisfaction would always come before my own.

The fourth time I started to approach climax, I could tell that she was, too. She asked me, in a sweet yet condescending lull, "Are you going to finish?"

"Will you let me?" I begged.

Her motion took on a new vigor. We were both so close to a release of our sexual energies. She began moaning again, this time in a louder, higher voice. She let out a final scream of ecstasy, and slowed down. Within a few seconds, I felt the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. As I emptied my energies inside of her, she let out a small squeal, smiled, and stood up.

It was cold again, but I didn't have the energy to put my clothes back on, or even move myself from that bed.

"Don't just lie there, servantboy," she demanded. "We have work to do."