Misc. Erotica The Goddess (COMPLETED) - By Novelist Casanova

[novelistcasanova]

That night my husband was not at home. He had gone to the town to attend a wedding and was staying at his friend’s house until the next day. The house was quiet. Our two older sons had already gone to sleep in their room. I had changed into my white nighty with only my white panties underneath and had fallen asleep on the mat in our bedroom, the day’s heat and the residual tension from Arjun still lingering low in my body.


I began to dream.
In the dream I was deeply, restlessly horny. My body felt warm and open, my clean-shaved pussy already soft and sensitive. I felt the soft cloth of my white nighty being slowly lifted. The nighty rose past my thighs, past my hips, and continued upward until it was gathered completely above my waist, leaving my lower body fully exposed. In the dream I sighed and let it happen. Then I felt fingers at the waistband of my white panties. The panties were pulled downward with careful, steady hands — sliding over my hips, over my thighs, down my calves, and off my feet entirely. Cool air touched the bare, clean-shaved lips of my pussy. Still believing it was only a dream, I shifted my hips slightly and allowed the feeling to continue.
A mouth settled between my legs.

Warm, soft lips pressed directly against the clean-shaved lips of my pussy and began to kiss them. The kisses were slow at first, open-mouthed, tasting me. A tongue moved between my pussy lips and licked upward in a long, wet stroke, then again, and again. The pleasure was immediate and deep. In the dream I let out a soft, helpless sound and opened my thighs wider, giving the mouth more room. The tongue continued licking, circling the sensitive upper part of my pussy, then pushing lower, tasting every part of me. I pushed my hips up to meet it, already lost in the sensation.
Then a single middle finger pressed against my entrance and pushed inside.
It slid into my wet pussy easily. The finger began to move — slow, deliberate strokes, in and out — while the mouth stayed on me, kissing and sucking gently at the swollen upper part of my pussy. The combination of the wet mouth and the steady finger-fucking sent thick waves of pleasure through my lower body. I moaned more openly in the dream, my thighs trembling. The finger curled and rubbed against a sensitive place inside me while the tongue kept licking. My hips began to move on their own, rising to take the finger deeper, rolling slightly to increase the friction.
I was enjoying it completely.

The pleasure built fast and heavy. My clean-shaved pussy grew wetter around the moving finger. Soft, broken sounds left my throat with every stroke. My hands gripped the mat. My heavy breasts rose and fell under the bunched nighty with my quickening breath. The mouth and the finger worked together without stopping — licking, sucking, fingering — until the heat between my legs concentrated into one sharp, rising peak.
The orgasm broke over me in strong, pulsing waves.
My pussy clenched hard around the middle finger, squeezing it in repeated, rhythmic spasms as I came. Wetness spilled out of me onto the hand between my legs. My thighs shook. My back arched slightly off the mat. The pleasure was so intense and so complete that for several long seconds I could only lie there with my mouth open, gasping, still half-lost in the dream, my pussy pulsing around the finger that continued to move gently through the climax.
Only as the final waves began to fade did the truth start to reach me.
The mouth was still there. The middle finger was still buried inside my pussy. The white nighty was still pushed up above my waist. My white panties were gone. This was not a dream.

My eyes opened.
In the dim light of the room I saw the shape of my youngest son, Rahul, kneeling between my open thighs. His face was close to my pussy. His middle finger was still inside me, wet and shiny with the orgasm he had just given me. The shock was so total that my body reacted before my mind could fully catch up. My thighs snapped shut hard around his forearm, trapping his hand and locking his middle finger deep inside my still-pulsing pussy.

Rahul’s eyes widened. For a frozen second neither of us moved. His arm was caught tightly between my thighs, his middle finger still surrounded by the wet heat of the pussy that had just finished cumming around it. The reality of what had happened — that my own youngest son had lifted my nighty, removed my white panties, kissed and licked my clean-shaved pussy, fingered me, and made me cum hard — crashed through the last of the dream-haze.
I opened my thighs as quickly as I had closed them and pushed his hand away. His middle finger slid out of my pussy with a soft, wet sound, glistening with my cum. I scrambled backward on the mat, pulling the white nighty down to cover myself, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Rahul remained kneeling where he was, his face flushed, his hand still wet from me, staring in a mixture of fear, shame, and the residual heat of what he had just done.
I could not speak at first. The shock of waking up in the middle of a strong orgasm to find my youngest son’s finger inside me left me completely still. The wetness of my own climax was still cooling on my thighs and on his hand. The white panties lay discarded somewhere near the mat. The house remained silent except for the sound of our uneven breathing.


The moment Rahul pulled his wet middle finger out of my pussy and I scrambled backward on the mat, the shock turned into raw anger. I pulled the white nighty down, my heart still pounding, and ordered him to stay where he was. Then I went to the other room, woke Manish and Rakesh, and brought all three of my sons into the bedroom. I closed the door and faced them while the house was still dark and silent, the taste of the night’s violation still fresh.