The people gathered around the courtyard looked up with rapt attention at the temple, hoping to hear the eagerly awaited news of who would be chosen for the Spring Festival. And they were not just observers, either. Like everyone else in the city, they had places their names into the lottery, to perhaps be chosen represent the god of spring and his consort in the Spring Festival.
The first name was called, and a mixture of excited chatter and religious awe went through the crowd as a young man heard his name called, and walked up the steps. He turned around and looked out at the crowd with no discernible expression. Like most of the people chosen by the lottery, he was young, just past adulthood. The Priestesses used a sorting method that meant that the young would have a greater chance to take place in the spring ritual.
Which was why, when the next name was called, a great buzz went through the crowd, because the next name called was not the name of a young woman, lithe and nubile, but rather the name of an older woman, who was also married to a rich merchant. But without hesitation, she climbed up the stairs, bowed down low to the young man who was now her ceremonial husband, and then joined hands with him. Every person in the city of age took place in the lottery, and she was no exception.
That night, with her husband, she kissed and cuddled as she usually did. She was 46 years old, and had been married to her husband at a young age. He was older, and rich even then, and she had started out as a simple concubine. But she was beautiful and pleasing, and she worked her way into being his chief wife.
Tonight his cuddling went further. He started pawing and squeezing her full breasts, and then gently whispered in her ear, telling her to part her legs so he could slide in from behind. He was more insistent and rough than he usually was, and she enjoyed it.
