Chosen of the Fertility God

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

At age 21, Eric and I got married. Eric had the rest of our life planned out from there. We were aiming to have our first child around the time of our first anniversary, which would be the summer after graduation. So a month after the wedding, we had an extravagant three month honeymoon booked, to make sure that happened on schedule, if the wedding night hadn't accomplished the goal already.

We were at an island resort, with nothing to do but lie on the beach, when we even left the cabana that is. Everywhere around us there were other newlyweds like us, parents with their kids, and some empty nesters. A couple days after we got there, I found out that I hadn't gotten pregnant the night of the wedding, so we had some trying to do.

At first it was a lot of fun, trying to make a baby together. Eric got especially excited when I told him it was my most fertile time of the month, and I got especially worked up that night too. He left three loads in me that night and another in the morning. I couldn't imagine how it wouldn't happen. But our first month at the resort came and went with no results.

That second month, we were a little disappointed, a little bored of lying on the same beach, swimming in the same stretch of sea. The sex was still great, even if the excitement of trying to get pregnant was starting to wane. We tried all sorts of positions. The night I was ovulating was still special, and we stayed up late, staying conjoined as long as we could.

By the third month, Eric was really starting to really worry. I knew it wasn't unusual at all for it to take more than three months, even though the other women in my family had all gotten pregnant very easily. If we didn't conceive during the honeymoon, that would throw off all of Eric's carefully made plans for the years to come. So he decided to take desperate measures.

I don't know how he heard about this place, but one night he told me that in the interior of the island, there was a temple to some sort of local fertility god. Apparently Eric had talked to couples who had gone there and conceived, and he suggested that he and I might give it a try, just for the fun of it, not that he really believed in it or anything. I wanted him to be happy, and I was bored of the resort, so I agreed to it.

We rented a scooter from the resort and drove up to this temple. The place was splendid. I wasn't sure why I hadn't heard of it, or read about it in any of the guidebooks, or seen any pictures online. The architecture was unlike anything I'd seen before, on the island or anywhere else. It looked old, ancient actually, and yet it was in great condition, painted vibrantly and touched with gold leaf.

Temple attendants showed us into a room with sliding wooden doors and a flat bed on the floor in the center of the room. They told us to take off our clothes and await a visitation of the god. At that I was getting a little nervous. I wasn't sure what we had really gotten ourselves into.

When we were both naked, the door opened, and a naked man entered. He had flawless bronze skin, and he was almost completely hairless. He was a little on the short side, unintimidating in physique. His head was shaved nearly bald.

In a soft but wise voice, he explained that he would watch over us as we copulated and ensure that we conceived. "But first you must light the candle. As long as the candle burns, you are sure to conceive."

"The candle?" Eric asked, looking around. There wasn't much else in the room. The only light was sunlight outside, filtering in through wood paneling.

The stranger gestured to his flaccid member. "First you must light the candle."

Eric was starting to get irritated. "Hey, no one told me about this," he complained to the fertility god. "I swear, no one told me about this part," he explained to me as well.

I just wanted to diffuse the situation. But I also felt a charge in the air ever since the stranger entered the room. Something that made me want to do things I normally wouldn't do.

"It's okay, honey," I said. "I'll handle it. It's fine."

"You expect my wife to get you erect?" Eric asked him.

"It is not always the woman who lights the candle," our god said. Eric did a double take, but to his credit, he considered it.

"Fine," Eric said. "Whatever you have to do, Cheryl. But I don't want to watch. I'm going to wait outside." He stepped out of the little room and slid the door closed behind him.

I stepped towards the mysterious stranger claiming to be a god, and I got on my knees. I probably could have just given him a hand job, but at that naive age I thought men always expected oral. As soon as my hand brushed his foreskin, I could feel the heat of him, and that heat seemed infectious. I gasped as it started to swell in my hand, literally springing to life through the hesitant, nervous use of my lips and tongue. I couldn't believe what I was doing, it was like watching what someone else would do from afar. Every gasp of his resonated in me, forcing the air from my lungs. When his penis stood tall and firm, it felt like a triumph, but also like just the beginning of something more. I could feel a powerful presence in the room, making me feel weak and powerless by comparison. But it wasn't an unwelcome feeling. I felt my own need building in my chest, and a desire to surrender myself to whatever would happen to me.

With Eric out of sight and out of mind for the moment, I rose to my feet, and pressed myself against the short, bronzed man. We were roughly even in height, my breasts nearly lining up with his nipples. His erection pressing into my mound of pubic hair. So close to going so much further, as I pressed my lips to his. He returned the kiss, eagerly, before he pulled back.

"We must bring your husband in now," he said. For a moment I pondered disagreeing with that, disagreeing with this man who had such power over my arousal. But I realized he was right.

I opened the door and brought Eric back into the room. The god sat crosslegged off to the side, on a woven mat, gently stroking himself. Just looking at what he was doing made my breath catch. I was worried that my husband would balk at the idea of making love to me in the presence of another man, but Eric hardly gave our voyeur a passing glance, and didn't say anything about it. That was what we were here to do after all, to mate in the presence of a god. I guess whoever Eric had talked to had told him that much.

I laid down on the bed, and let my husband climb on top of me, his legs between mine, it didn't take long to "light his candle" as well, and when I felt him press into me, I was plenty ready for it.

We started to move together slowly, tenderly, his lips on mine, not knowing I had just kissed a stranger with them, uncaring that I had just taken a stranger's penis between them. Between feeling Eric moving inside me, and the erotic charge in the room, and the hope that maybe this would be the time we would conceive, it didn't take long for my intensity to build. I pulled Eric's hips to mine with every thrust.

With my husband's head by my ear, I glanced over to the other side. The deity in the room was clearly approaching the edge as well, but if he was straining towards orgasm or trying to delay it, I couldn't tell. All I could see was his half-lidded eyes, his slack-jawed distraction as precum poured down his shaft, his fist moving in time with my husband and I.

Eric pushed himself hard into me and his frame went rigid, a grunt escaping as he reached his peak, and then I felt the first of his seed pour into me. I didn't always orgasm when he ejaculated into me, but that day I sure did, when I felt the warmth jet deep into me. At the same time, the stranger groaned, and I made eye contact with his half closed eyes as the semen fountained in his lap, while my husband was still spurting into me.

When we got home from the honeymoon, it was a relief to miss my next period, and the one after that. We started making preparations for the baby to arrive right on schedule. But then, three months in, before I was really starting to show, I lost the baby. I had a miscarriage. Eric took it even harder than I did. I knew these things happen frequently, that it didn't really mean anything. But for him, it threw everything off. Because now we were back to square one.

We tried again, of course. We both got checked out by our doctors and got a clean bill of health. It seemed like all the right moving parts were there to start a family, it just wasn't happening on its own. Those next few months were stressful between us, which didn't help. After six months, Eric was really frustrated with the situation, and it was wearing on me too. We considered IVF, but it seemed like there was no good reason that IVF would be more successful than what we were already doing. Sex became a sort of chore.

For Christmas, Eric surprised me, with two more tickets to the island. But it'd be a much shorter trip this time. "And maybe while we're there, we could give that temple another shot. That was fun last time," he suggested casually, as if that wasn't his entire purpose in booking the trip. Regardless, I was glad to go back to the island. Especially if it would help us finally start a family, and let Eric start recalculating his plans for our years to come.

When we arrived at the temple again, I was feeling good about it. Our previous time there had been intense, and fruitful, at least temporarily. And part of me was looking forward to it for other reasons, even if I wasn't about to entirely admit it to myself.

We were shown into the same little room. When the fertility god came in, Eric ducked out without a word, leaving it to me to get this unassuming deity of a man aroused.

From the moment he entered the room, I felt my body responding, even if his hadn't yet. He smiled shyly, and I stepped towards him, leaning in to kiss him on the lips again, picking up where we left off. I had him lie back on the bed, and I kissed a line down to the tops of his thighs. Already he was stirring, before I even ran a hand across his genitals, cupping his testes gently.

But for my part, I was sopping wet and feverish with desire, drunk on that powerful force pervading the room. While he was still half-hardened, I straddled his waist, pressing my sopping slit against his member. I felt him hardening, his rod sliding between my slippery lips, and I wanted more. I leaned down to kiss him again, and angled my hips so that as I moved them back and forth, I felt the tip of his penis nudge my hole. As wet as I was, there wasn't much resistance as he slid into me.

My mind kept going back to that moment before, when we had orgasmed together, but apart-his semen fountaining all over his lap, my pussy filled with my husband's sperm. I wondered, wickedly, what it would feel like to orgasm together. But he stopped me short.

"The candle is lit. You must bring your husband in now," he said, though it seemed like every fiber of his being said otherwise. I gave him a sly smile. The candle was more than lit; we'd gone further than that already.

Reluctantly, I got up and brought Eric in, while the anonymous god got up from the bed and took his place on the woven mat. Eric didn't notice or didn't want to notice that the deity's cock was smeared with my pussy juices. I had Eric lay where the other man had been a moment before, and I picked up where I left off. With my husband's cock deep inside me, I sat up and rode him, fondling my breasts and letting my eyelids fall to hide the fact that I was really watching our observer stroke himself. I could tell the bronze-skinned man was getting close to cumming, and when he did, Eric and I would lose our window of opportunity. So I urged Eric on, "Are you ready? Cum in me, baby. Knock me up!"

"On honey, I'm...about to...I'm cumming!" Eric shouted, though I could already tell. His load spurted up into me, and then a second later the man off to the side grunted and poured forth his own load onto the mat. His eyes met mine, and his look deep into my soul touched off my own climax. Eric was in the throes of passion as this fertility god and I exchanged a surreptitious smirk.

I conceived again that day, but as before, it didn't last more than a couple months. And the strain proved too much for our marriage. Eric was a bit of a micromanager, in case that's not abundantly clear, and for his plans to keep getting upended by my biology was apparently more than he could handle. By the time we had the divorce finalized, Eric and I were both glad to have it done with, so we could each move on.

Five years and seven boyfriends later, I thought I had finally found The One. Or at least "a one." My standards were pretty low by that point. Brian was a nice guy, and we worked well together in bed, and I was ready to start a family with him, or with anyone really.

But it was obvious by then that I wasn't going to conceive the normal way-I hadn't bothered with birth control in years, other than using condoms with anyone new. So I booked a trip for Brian and me down to the island. He knew what the trip was for. I had told him stories about the temple of the fertility god.

The week before the trip, Brian broke up with me. He said he wouldn't go to this island or this pagan temple, because he didn't really want children, he just said he did, in order to be with me. I felt so betrayed. I thought we were ready to start a life together, and it turns out he was leading me on because the sex was good.

I only had a week to decide what to do. Cancelling the entire trip would have been a hassle, and I'd still be out a bunch of money. So I decided to go anyway, even if it meant going alone. I'd spend a week by the beach drinking daiquiris and maybe find some surfer dude to rebound with.

I felt pretty done with dating at that point. All I ever found were men who had already started one family and left it, or men like Brian who didn't share my life goals, but strung me along anyway. Part of me just wanted to have a child already, and not have to find the father first. That made it all the more frustrating that my body just wasn't getting pregnant, not for lack of opportunity. So a fling with a might not cut it, not on its own.

When I got to the resort, I did indeed get drunk on cocktails. I thought about bringing some random guy with me to the fertility temple. Somehow that didn't seem right, and I kept thinking about those intense moments I'd had with the god himself. Those moments had left me wanting more, and I realized that some handsome stranger would only get in the way.

That was the train of thought running through my mind when I arrived at the temple the third time, this time with no husband in tow this time, no man at all. I wasn't sure if they'd even let me in on my own. I explained to the attendants that I was here to see the fertility god. They showed me into the room just like before, and I took off my clothes.

When he came in, he looked just like before, his skin flawless, his physique just the same, even though I sure looked five years older. We kissed right away without hesitation, as if our last encounter had been just yesterday. His hands felt hot on my shoulders, my arms, my breasts, and everywhere he touched felt hot too, until my whole body was feverishly warm. I slid a hand down his flat stomach, fondling his penis as it swelled. I felt that power taking hold in the room. He did likewise, and found my slit soaking wet, my vulva parted and ready. His touch grazed my clit and I nearly collapsed. He caught me in his arms and lay me down on the bed. His hand rested possessively on my belly as his mouth went down between my legs. I squeezed those legs around him as I came with a scream.

Then he moved up and lined up his engorged rod with my parted, eager flesh. I gave him a nod to go on.

"If you let the candle burn you within, you will conceive one of my kind," he explained first.

"Please," I gasped. "I want that. Let the candle burn me."

And so he did. With every thrust I felt his breath on my cheek in time with my own, his cock pressing deep into me, so close to its target. In the tightening of his muscles I felt his arousal building with mine, or maybe mine building with his. Whoever was feeding off of whom, all I know is that we both approached our climax. The powerful erotic charge in the room was building and intensifying, like an approaching thunderstorm. I knew this time I wouldn't be watching his seed fountain all over his lap, I would be feeling it all within me, and I was looking forward to it.

"Are you certain you want to carry my child?" he asked, on the edge of control.

"Yes," I answered. "Burn me."

And then I felt him swell within me, even as I contracted around him, and I knew he was about to impregnate me. As soon as I felt the first of it, I too orgasmed. I think that was the first time I knew for sure that his orgasm had caused mine. With every spurt of divine life into my womb I wrapped him tight in my limbs and in my flesh, holding on tight as his pleasure reverberated through me, and seemed to feed back into him, until I wasn't sure a mortal human being could take much more.

I flew home the next day with a souvenir in my uterus, quickly growing. What I told my friends and family was that I'd had a one night stand while I was on vacation, and never saw the man again. I let them think I was irresponsible, not crazy. No one would have believed that I gave my body to a fertility god.

When I was six months pregnant, I knew I had to go back to the island one more time before the baby came, and before flying became too much of a risk. I was at least past the point where I'd lost my previous pregnancies, and pretty sure I was going to carry this one to term. I had to go back because I wanted to see him again, and feel him again.

I rented a car at the airport and drove straight to the temple. Or to where the temple should have been. Instead I found an empty plot of land, looking like nothing had ever been built there. I was in such disbelief that I had to actually get out of the car and walk all over the little grassy clearing to convince myself it was really gone. That he was really gone, as mysteriously as he'd shown up.

I flew back home, disappointed. My baby boy was born three months later. I loved him at first sight. I decided to name him Chris. I never had learned his father's name.

What can I say about the next several years? They went by in a frenzy and a blur. They were both too short and too exhausting. From time to time I had men in my life, but they didn't stay. My son looked just like his father, more and more so, as he grew up. I didn't see anything of me in him at all, which would lead to awkward conversations. People would sometimes assume I had adopted him. Nope, he really did come out of me, I'd say. I was there, it hurt like hell, I'd joke. But other than looking different than me, he seemed like a normal boy, who was gradually growing up to be a normal man.

Years later, when Chris was in high school, I started getting feelings, stirrings that I hadn't felt in years. I wondered if this was what they meant by "hot flashes" when a woman starts menopause? If so, they were a few years early, and nothing to complain about! I would suddenly find myself aroused, short of breath, weak in the knees. It would come over me at random times, regardless of what I was doing at the time, whether it was dishes or vacuuming. It would only last for a couple minutes, and then I'd feel normal again. Like I said, I wrote it off as some physiological change of getting older.

Once I came home in the afternoon. I found the front door unlocked, but I didn't see Chris anywhere. When I called for him, he didn't respond. I started to feel one of these "hot flashes" coming on, but I did my best to ignore it, because I wanted to make sure I knew where my son was.