Member-only story
My God Is A Woman
She isn’t a figment of my imagination, but my manifest destination. A journey that ends when I lay between her legs. Between them lies the beginning of life — a portal to unimagined pleasures of the flesh.
I look into the eyes of My God; she stares as if she’s reading my mind. My thoughts always center on her touch and taste. The touch of her flower makes my manhood rise like the early morning sun.
When My God is away, I yearn for the smell of her skin. The taste of her lips is better than the first sip after days in a dry pit. She isn’t a dream that requires faith. My God needs me to be faithful for a lifetime of love.
I bow on bended knee to my one and only God. She feeds me her breast, the milk that nourishes a nation — so tender but yet the power it possesses.
One look ignites the fire within. A flame hotter than the depths of hell. Her body heat as she climaxes, sweat falling, dripping off her brow. Each drop is orgasmic as it touches my beating chest.
My God is grinding while her hands press atop my tight abs. She is working my manhood so hard, almost ready to explode. I stare into the eyes of a Goddess while her lip quivers and her eyes roll.
The screams of My God like Christmas hymns from The Tabernacle Choir. I soon join in our harmony, so beautiful tears flow uncontrollably…
