Working in Mysterious Ways

How it all began:

I'm a simple peasant... from a small village in a remote region of the Indian subcontinent. When I turned 18, our village matchmaker revealed her choice for me--he is on track to graduate near the top of his class in civil engineering.

His engineering specialties: structural, transportation, hydrology, materials, and irrigation system design. Exactly what our remote village needs to flourish.

Matchmaker: "With one man, you will be bringing us the knowledge and know-how of half a dozen men."

Me: "But am I ready? The pressure is so great."

Matchmaker: "You are the most fetching maiden in all the land... believe in your heart and he will be yours."

Which is why, today, I find myself a foreign student in a strange land on the other side of the world. Sounds crazy, I know, but arranged marriages have always been our tradition.

There's only one potential problem, he's devoutly religious... more than that, he's a preacher man's son and has undertaken a purity pledge (no sex before marriage)... so he might well be impervious to my feminine wiles.

My life hangs in the balance as does the destiny of my people.

Even still, you should know, dear reader, that there are limits to what I will do. I'm not going to hit him with a blowdart and put him in a sack for one-way travel. No, but I am going to push the boundaries of the 'all is fair in love and war' maxim to the fullest.

Introductions:

Though he is a senior, we learned last year that he had chosen to pursue Philosophy 101 as an elective this semester. This meant that instead of me having to conjure up some way of making his acquaintance, all I needed to do was enroll in the same class.

It also meant that I was able to spend months preparing for the material ahead of time so I could dazzle him with my brilliance.

First day: I spot him and take a seat right next. "Oh no, foolish me! I've forgotten my backpack with all my stuff on the school shuttle!" He is alarmed but doesn't come immediately to my aid.

I sheepishly then ask him if he might have an extra notebook and pencil...

He is surprised by my accent. I tilt my head while gazing into his eyes. He suddenly exclaims that happened to him before so I shouldn't be embarrassed at all. Then he opens his suitcase to fetch the needed supplies.

I gush all over him then, right before the lecture begins, I flash him my infectious smile. I realize immediately that he's just been stung by cupid's arrow, I can read palms and faces.

The philosophy lecture is tedious and boring but I manage to enthusiastically scribble out several pages of extremely detailed notes. He takes notice so, after class when I suggest we become study partners, he is definitely onboard.

Class meets Tuesdays & Thursdays... so we agree on getting together Friday nights--everything will be fresh in our minds and neither of us has Saturday obligations.

The game is now afoot, though he doesn't know that yet.

Help! I need you:

The following day, I call up my new best friend to tell him I need his assistance. He rushes right over, exactly like I hoped he would.

I'm wearing bright yellow short-shorts with a tight t-shirt in burnt orange-- both colors complement my warm brown skin. They are both also slightly see-through... which means, among other things, he's about to discover that the women of my tribe do not wear bras... but we do believe in piercing our nipples.

Bless his heart for trying so hard to maintain eye contact; I find that endearing. But it's a lost cause, my breasts are the most prominent feature in the room and they magnetically draw his eyes to them repeatedly.

I allow him several minutes to fully drink me in before explaining my predicament:

Me: "The campus post office called to say that I received several packages, which need to be picked up. The only problem is they are from my parents and I know they are all very heavy."

Him: "No problem, I could run over and get them for you."

Me: "You're the best! I promise to make this up to you too..."

Him: "Not a problem at all..."

Me: "You can say that because you're all muscles... trust me, this is a big deal to me..."

It takes him several trips-- so many packages plus several flights of steps-- before he is finished. The last box is really heavy, I can see he is struggling but he is able to gingerly place it on the ground.

He slumps down on my sofa trying to catch his breath. I say it was foolish of me to put him to work on such a warm day and that he is surely suffering from heat exhaustion. He says he just needs to cool off... no need for concern. But... okay, maybe I have an aspirin?

I point out that Western medicine doesn't have all the answers and that my village has developed a cure for such things.

I fetch a tall glass, fill it with ice cubes, generously sprinkle salt, then add the water. I hop up on his lap. I stir the water with my finger. I suck my finger, needs more stirring.

He watches me with fascination. Finally, I announce it's the proper temp. I tell him to close his eyes and lean his head back to rest on the cushion.

He does, I rise up higher on my knees then pop a cube into my mouth and begin to noisily roll it around in my mouth. I wait until I can barely handle the cold then I spit out the ice and place my entire tongue on the center of his forehead.

He winces, I hold firm... until my tongue is warm and it's time for another ice cube. I work from the center out to his temples, 7 applications in all. He offers no resistance but while I ponder my next move, he asks about the technique.

I have to think on my feet; I tell him it's all about the fact that the tongue is the most effective way to deliver saline aimed at bringing down... body temperature.

He looks at me quizzically. I press my knees against his hips and suck another cube into my mouth to telegraph I'm not done yet. This time I keep the ice in my mouth as I begin to completely bathe his cheeks. Next, I alternate between thrusting my cold tongue... and blowing my hot breath... into his ears.

He begins to shift from side to side... I lower myself back onto his lap and immediately sense the stirring-- his manhood has been aroused.

I meet his gaze then allow my green eyes to work their magic. He is transfixed.

I suck a cube into my mouth, swish it around, poke it out and move in close so I can rub it over his lips. He moans softly; I gently spit the cube into his willing mouth.

He is now visibly hard. I repeat a second time, then a third... while imperceptibly rubbing myself against the full length of his spear. He groans; I ask if he's feeling better.

He thinks so... but now he's kinda getting dizzy... and his heart is racing. I tell him he needs a cold compress. I unbutton his shirt and have to admire the view.

I lean back now, his eyes still riveted on my every move. I grab the hem of my shirt to hold it tight; I slowly pour the remaining ice water over my chest.

I wrap my arms around his back and begin to press and rub my breasts all over his chest. Then I settle on a position and allow myself to completely melt into him.

I hold him tight... I doze off to nap.

When I awake a half hour later, I smile inwardly--he had made no attempt to rouse me... clearly, was in no particular hurry to end my healing treatments.

1st Study Session:

We meet at my place and, after spending an hour discussing Blaise Pascal's doctrine that God must be experienced through the heart (deep feelings) instead of the head (via reason), I make us dinner.

I know he's been raised as a strict meat & potatoes guy, which means I'm about to put on quite the show for him. It starts when I retrieve a bowl from the refrigerator... there's a damp cloth on top, which I pull off to reveal a live lobster.

He is utterly fascinated and now fully watching my every move. I mix up eggs and cream then put aside while I add butter to a frying pan. I move the lobster to a cutting board then plunge a knife directly into its head. (The most humane way)

I slice up the meat from the lobster tail then fry it up in a butter saffron sauce while my eggs are gently cooking. I add the lobster to the eggs then fold over and let simmer while I brew us up a small pot of strong tea.

I toast some black bread, then run back to grate some fresh truffle on top of the omelet. Voila, dinner is served...

He eats with gusto and quite noisily. He makes so many yummy noises, in fact, that I finally just burst out in pride.

Me: "Wow, that's some appetite you have there! I'm flattered..."

Him: "This is amazing! You know, I've never actually had lobster before."

(Tell me something I don't already know...)

Me: "Really? This is a very popular dish back in my village. I'm glad you like it."

Him: "And this bread... where did you find it?"

Me: "Oh, I baked that myself this morning."

Him: "You really are something."

We finish eating then I steer our discussion toward hobbies. He likes racquetball. This I already knew but now that it's out, I throw down the gauntlet and challenge him to a match tomorrow.

He thinks I'm joking; I dial up the gym's website then nail down Court 2 at 10am.

I say that we should have some kind of bet, "you know, to make it more interesting." He tells me he's pretty good and I should know that going into the match--duly noted.

Me: "Listen, I'm going to pop into the shower real quick and change into something... more comfortable."

The water is invigorating. I think about maybe wearing just a towel but that might cause cardiac arrest. I decide on an oversized t-shirt... I'll still be utterly irresistible.

When I finally emerge, I find that he has gone. The dishes have been washed, he's left a nice note thanking me for the wonderful dinner, along with a single purple flower. I recognize it. That's puzzling, I thought they were unique to my remote village. What??

Saturday:

I arrive carrying a pink racquet, goggles, and a blue ball. I'm wearing a sweatsuit. I get there early to watch the current game through the small window. Yeah, those guys are good alright. He appears at my side; I jump in surprise.

He didn't mean to scare me... no, that's fine... I was just trying to pick up some pointers. He looks through the window, instantly recognizing the combatants. Yeah, both of them are top-notch.

Five minutes left so I begin to stretch my arms & legs. Next, I tie my hair up into a ponytail and I begin to lightly jump up and down.

As the guys exit, they greet my man. It's clear they are friends and there is immediate talk of getting together for cutthroat soon.

Then they spy me. "Hey there! Would you be interested in cutthroat... maybe next weekend? I flirtatiously respond, "I'm not sure you boys could handle me." They go into slow motion and like fling themselves back against the wall like I just hit them with some kind of forcefield.

I giggle--definitely something they've practiced--then I walk over to introduce myself. They are very talkative, so much so that my man finally has to interrupt.

They wish me well; say they really hope to see more of me here on the court. I'm all smiles.

They leave, my guy holds the door for me. I pull off my sweatsuit to reveal I'm wearing a hot pink athletic bikini. Truth is I had brought this along for beach volleyball but decided to repurpose for today's festivities. It's all about freedom of movement.

I trot inside, we hit the ball around a bit, then he insists I serve first. Now in our positions, I look back and throw him a kiss. While he is trying to decipher what that means, I slam the ball low against the front wall so it heads towards his backhand corner.

Taken off guard, he doesn't come close to returning. But now he knows... I'm a player. He steps up his game... and he really is incredible. We battle, my bikini bottom is soon really more of a thong. I look for patterns in his game until I see an opportunity.

I go with my lob serve so the ball almost touches the ceiling before falling into his forehand corner. His best defense is to basically drive it hard straight down the wall. It's not an easy shot, the racquet has to avoid both walls but he has already demonstrated his abilities in that regard.

Just as he swings, right before he connects with the ball, I clench my teeth then jump up and towards the wall. The ball hits me square in my bare, right ass cheek. I fall to the ground and wince in pain.

He rushes over and apologizes profusely. There's a nasty welt... I beg him to rub it to help take away the sting. He doesn't hesitate to come to my aid.

I allow his hands to massage my butt a good long while. He's been hit before, happens from time to time, and it is painful... he knows that.

When the game resumes, I hobble around the best I can. He takes it easier on me so I score a bunch of points. I call him out, he says I'm still getting his A-game. Next time I have a chance, I drill him right in the center of his back... a spot he can't reach.

I'm now apologizing and rubbing his bare skin. He says accidents happen. I turn his chin so he's looking at me... when I confess:

Me: "Don't be silly. That was no accident; I had to even the score... didn't I?"

He chuckles and I can see I've charmed him with my competitiveness. The rest of the match is fierce but I finally go down. I congratulate him and say I'll figure out his reward soon.

Damsel in Distress:

I apologize profusely for the intrusion on a Sunday morning, but I kinda have a problem and he's the only one I know I can turn to.

He agrees to skip church and races to my aid. I tell him the reason I called was because I seem to have like a splinter or a sliver of glass or something in my foot. (I don't really...)

I cross my legs and stick my foot out. He happily goes down on his knees and gingerly removes my deep-purple sock. I fake wince in pain, which draws an immediate apology.

I ask him to please check the ball of my foot for the foreign object. He spends several minutes looking but to no avail so I tell him to carefully explore. He gently presses his thumb here and there until I finally cry out.

That's the spot, what is it? He can't see anything so he's not exactly sure.

I ask him if he would mind running into the kitchen and filling a pot up with warm water. He agrees that I should probably soak my foot-- yep, that will do the trick.

Soon he is again dutifully kneeling before me carefully bathing my wounded foot. I allow several gasps to escape my lips to give him ongoing encouragement and when the water starts to turn cold, he gleefully refills the pot with another round of warm water.

I stick my other foot out to him once he's happily back on his knees. He looks up at me so I giggle before saying that my other foot is getting jealous. He grins then removes my other sock before dipping my foot into the pot. His hands feel awfully nice and I tell him so. He blushes but keeps to his task.

The sensations are divine and I spend a good deal of time softly moaning in pure, blissful pleasure. He's like a miracle worker...

I now hold both of my feet together and toward his face:

Me: "I think your work here is done. Just look at how wrinkled my toes are!"

Him: "I'm so sorry about that."

Me: "I was kidding, you are a gifted healer and I'm forever in your debt."

Him: (he is all smiles)

Everything is going according to plan so I move on. Could he please fetch me a clean pair of socks from that drawer right there? He readily agrees then as soon as the drawer is open, I see him holding his breath because he is now staring at my dainty socks and my sexy panties.

He finally manages to ask me what color socks do I want and I tell him to pick something pretty. He is clearly blushing when he walks back over carrying a pair of baby-blues.

I'm still holding out my feet; he gets the message and kneels down to put on my socks.

I say, in my village females are expected to repay such kindnesses. I explain this tradition harkens back to medieval times. If I were younger than I could kiss his forehead, dance for him, or give him a lock of my hair. But I am 18 years old now, so, have more... exotic options at my disposal.

Him: "What?"

Me: "In my culture, girls remain absolutely pristine until 18. Then they get a full year to explore certain flirtations and some sensual aspects of womanhood."

Him: (doesn't even know what to say)

Me: "At 19, we have various coming-out celebrations... and then suitors may seek our hand in marriage."

Him: "Oh... okay, that makes sense... I guess."

He is still on his knees so I don't hesitate. I lean back in my chair, hike up my skirt, then open my legs to reveal my peach-colored satin panties. I watch his eyes as I reach down and begin to rub myself.

He's paralyzed... has no idea what to do. I tell him how handsome I think he is. That I have already done this once before while fantasizing about him... actually right after we had met.

Me: "You've no idea the things I want you to do to me..."

I close my eyes; say I'm now imagining his mouth licking and sucking on my tits... I gasp a couple times... my hand slips down inside my waistband.

I tell him he is now playing with my pussy and how great it feels. I take a peek... he is still watching intently.

I grip myself, inserting middle & ring fingers deep inside myself... then really up my intensity. I am soon panting and moaning, none of which is an act.

I tell him how much I want to cum for him. Does he want that too? He nods his head...

My thrusts slow... and then I move pointer & middle fingers up my hood until I find my button. I circle her until I can't hold back--I tell him to look at my face... he does... I rub fast and furious... my eyes flash, I scream out "I love you!" and then I orgasm for him.

It's so intense... I have to squeeze my legs together. I gasp then topple off my chair. He crawls to me, cradles my head, asks if I'm okay.

I smile... then say, I've never felt better.

He lifts me back to my feet... he really must be going.

I grab him by his tie and pull him in close... then I beg, "we must exchange scents." He has no idea where this going. I cling to his tie with one hand, while the other pulls his handkerchief from his breast pocket.

I rub it all over his neck while saying how much I adore his cologne. He is still. I tell him tonight when I go to bed, I will unfurl this flag onto my pillow in hopes that I will have beautiful dreams about him.

He doesn't reply... I step back so he can watch me wiggle out of my panties.

Me: "They are still moist and fragrant... please promise me you'll fall asleep tonight with them pressed to your face."

He knows I'm being entirely sincere. He cautiously nods a yes. I stuff my panties into his breast pocket then walk him to the door.

2nd Study Session:

He insists on hosting so I am somewhat at a disadvantage. Still, I come armed...

An hour of philosophy followed by a nice dinner. Though, bless his heart, he burns the frozen lasagna and the garlic toast so has to finally surrender.

(Okay, I had covertly changed his oven from Fahrenheit to Celsius, so the 350 degrees he dialed up had actually been almost twice that as far as the food had been concerned.)

He is clearly flustered because he can't seem to even follow basic cooking directions from a box. I feel a little guilty... but I need to work every angle.

He asks me what I think and I immediately recommend a certain Italian place. Not so much because of the pizza but because I know the delivery guy is in our philosophy class.

Dinner has arrived; as my man reaches into his wallet the delivery guy has a chance to ogle me in the background. I'm bent over the couch trying to retrieve something: my skirt is hiked up revealing my shapely, toned butt.

I hear the guy say, "Dude! Isn't that the foreign chic from our philosophy class? How the hell did you land her? She's smoking hot!"

My man is oblivious so he just shrugs his shoulders and pays the tab before wishing the guy a good night.

When he turns, I'm just sitting on the arm of the couch smiling up at him...

The pizza is nice, we eat in silence. I help him clean up (throw away the paper plates) and then we are soon sitting together awkwardly trying to make small talk. I see my opening...

Me: "Do you know that guy? He's in our philosophy class."

Him: "Not really. Why do you ask?"

Me: "He invited me to a fraternity party but I didn't go because I didn't think I'd fit in. For starters, they were going to be playing 'Truth or Dare' -- some game I'm not familiar with."

Him: "Oh, gotcha."

Me: "Do you know how to play?"

Him: "Sure but it's like a silly game. I'm not sure you'd enjoy it."

Me: "Try me! Please..."

He reluctantly explains the rules to me, though I'm already primed to play. I tell him it sounds like fun-- I'll go first."

Him: (uncomfortably) "Truth or Dare?"

Me: "Dare!"

Him: (clearly thrown... then he runs to the kitchen to fill up a small glass with sriracha sauce) "I dare you to drink this!"

Me: "I'll give it a try." (I easily gulp down the spicy elixir-- my village is all about heat.)

Me: "Truth or Dare?"

Him: "I guess... Truth?"

Me: "Is it true you've memorized the Bible?"

Him: "How did you know? I mean... yes."

Me: "I find that hard to believe... so maybe a quiz is in order?"

Him: "Okay."

Me: "Song of Songs, Chapter 7, verses 1-2."

He closes his eyes... tilts his head from side to side. I notice the beginnings of a smile...

Him: "How beautiful are your sandaled feet, O prince's daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of an artist's hands. Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine."

Me: "Song of Songs, Chapter 7, verses 6-8."

Him: "How beautiful you are and how pleasing, my love, with your delights. Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit. I said, 'I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.' May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine."

Me: "Wow! Your words were so poetic and... holy. I sincerely appreciate your compliments."

He knows I've just tricked him and he blushes. I go truth. He asks if I'm up to something? I nod my head 'yes' then beg him to go dare. He whispers the word...

Me: "Take off... all of your clothes!"

Him: "What? You just escalated this!"

Me: "So that's not like a standard dare?"

Him: "Well, sure I guess it is... Still!"

Me: "I'm waiting."

Him: (doesn't even really know how to respond)

Me: "Hello in there..."

Him: "I defer back to you!"

Me: "Defer back to me? How does that work?" (I know he just invented a new rule)

Him: "So... I'm forcing you back on the defense! You can't dare me to do something you wouldn't do yourself."

I stand to fully strip naked; he is barely breathing. I hold my arms down my body, clench my hands, then pinch my upper arms together so they press my breasts against each other. I wiggle and I bounce a bit before turning. I look over my shoulder at him, place my hands under my cheeks then begin to jiggle them.

Me: "Truth or Dare?"

Him (long pause): "Truth..."

Me: "Do you... do you find my nakedness pleasing? Would you like to explore it further with your hands?"

Him: "What? No, that's the problem... you are too enticing! I mean... even if I wanted to, I can't. I'm saving myself for marriage."

Me: "But surely that doesn't mean we have to ignore the fact that we've become attracted to each other. You're allowed to have a girlfriend-- it's in the Bible... you just recited several passages to that effect."

Him: "No, like that was ancient times when a King could have many wives and also concubines."

Me: "Neither of us has much experience in these physical matters. Let's agree to practice on each other. Our future spouses will certainly appreciate the fact that we have some bedroom skills."

Him: "Ahhh..."

Me: "I promise that I will make a most loyal and loving concubine."

He doesn't have a reply. I don't wait. I slowly approach, he doesn't retreat so I walk right into his arms.

I'm now visibly trembling--there can be no doubt that my body is craving his touch. Yet, he makes no move.

I reach up underneath his shirt and begin to rub both of my hands up and down his muscular back. He places his hands on my back tentatively then, gloriously, begins to explore my skin.

I don't want this to end. I quickly turn, lean back against him and slowly raise myself up his chest. I grasp his wrists then pull his hands up my legs to my jeweled stomach, then further north until his hands are covering my breasts.

I throw my arms up and back around his neck. I interlace my fingers so he now understands he is my helpless captive.

His head is also now locked in place at my shoulder and he is peering down my body from a different angle. His hands caress my breasts then cup them. I moan with pleasure; he responds by massaging my nipples with his thumbs--pure electricity!

I release my hold so I can move my palms down in search of his hardness. It's an easy find and soon I am tugging on it... through the thin material of his trousers. I can feel his chest heaving against my back, I can hear his labored breaths coming out in spurts.

It's not easy, while your hands are around your back, to take a man's belt off, then unbutton and unzip his pants so they can fall to the floor. But I manage (hours of practice).

And then I dip, rise up, slide my thumbs down his waistband at the sides, slowly dip again and now his briefs are down around his knees.

He literally gasps out loud at my sleight of hand trick. I press my ass back against him, trapping him between my cheeks. I lean forward then begin to vigorously twerk against him.

He grabs me by my hips to steady himself, I thank him for this opportunity to be of service. He responds with an unintelligible string of words, none of which suggest he wants me to stop.

He suddenly holds his breath, then he pulls me back hard against him. He tries to resist... to hold the dam, I amp up the speed of my gyrations, he howls out!

His first sticky blast lands in my hair, the second hits me in the back of my neck, the next just a little further down, and so on until my entire back has been glazed and there's a puddle in the dimple at my lower back.

He whimpers then falls to the ground. I crawl over to lie on my stomach close to him. When he finally opens my eyes, I flash him a smile... he is clearly embarrassed.

I tell him that was amazing and that I had no idea men had that much capacity.

His eyes roam over my back... he apologizes and says he didn't mean for that to happen.

Him: "Let me run and get you a washcloth and towel."

Before he has a chance to move:

Me: "No, no. You're the first man I've ever brought to orgasm... your seed is my reward. I must have it."

Him: "What?"

Me: "It's a rite of passage... please, use your hands to scoop as much of it up as you can."

Turns out not to be an easy task... and I laugh aloud a couple times when I feel it dripping down my sides.

Him: "Okay... so... what now?"

I rise up on my hands and knees. He's holding his hands cupped together in front of me. I lean in... then begin to lap his sauce up with my tongue.

When the pool has been drained, I attack his hands one by one... licking his palms and sucking on his fingers--I've become like a serious addict and I crave every, last drop of him.

When I've finished, he genuinely appears to be stunned. Must be culture shock? I ask if he's okay... "just really tired" is his reply.

I dress quickly, tell him how much I enjoyed the evening and that I hope we can get together again soon.

Later that evening, back in my bed, I relive our encounter. I wonder what he must be thinking right now. I pray he isn't having second thoughts about me.

Cold Shoulder:

I get my answer the next day.

He doesn't sit next to me in philosophy class; instead, he's near the door. I try to catch his eye but he's definitely decided to avoid me. This point is hammered home when he quickly darts out as soon as the professor makes his last point.

I call him and leave several voice messages. I must sound pretty pathetic... but I can't help myself. He doesn't return a single one.

I text him:

Me: "Please don't hate me. I really do like you and everything just felt so right. It was innocent fun, that's all."

Several hours pass...

Him: "There's nothing innocent about you! Please just leave me alone."

The next day I call my parents. "I can't do this, tell the matchmaker to send me the second-best candidate at this university."

My parents: "Just hang in there... he will come around."

Me: "No, he's too fragile. I don't want to break him. Please, don't make me do that."

My parents: "He's stronger than you can even imagine. The matchmaker is never wrong, he will surmount this obstacle to be yours forever and ever!"

Me: "You weren't there. He thinks I'm some demon sent to torment him before dragging him down to hell... maybe I am."

My parents: "You're talking nonsense. Pick yourself up off the field and get back in this game!"

I'm crying and I just want to go back home. I didn't sign up for this, it was thrust upon me. But I do recognize at least this much... the stars in their courses will decide.

The following week:

While my man stays in the background, I sit next to pizza delivery dude both classes. I lean in whenever he wants to whisper in my ear and I giggle and I playfully punch him.

Later, when my man & his friend leave the court, I'm there waiting to play cutthroat with the guys I met last time. I've already stripped down to my beach volleyball outfit... so he doesn't have to wonder.

Friday: he goes for a jog at the track. Seems to be a group clogging up the works... as he tries to pass he sees that the group of guys... are patiently jogging behind... me.

I'm like a gazelle... my caramel legs have been handcrafted by God, himself; my ass wiggles to match my gait. More than that, my exhales are accompanied with a sexy sound... close your eyes and you could easily imagine you are making love to me.

Sunday: He's at the church door handing out bulletins. I am dressed modestly and carrying a fan. He welcomes me with a hearty 'good morning' then I whisk the fan away so he can see it's me.

I ask if we can sit together, since I don't know anybody else. He reluctantly agrees.

We pray, we sing, we listen to the sermon together. His dad preaches about human frailties and redemption.

At the end, we file out together to walk down the aisle for a meet & greet with the minister. He introduces me to his father, who says it's about time we've met because I'm all his son has talked about recently.

I beam at the compliment. His dad takes it even farther--he turns to his son to say, "don't let her get away."

3rd Study Session:

Despite any apprehensions he might still be having about me, we manage to debate the myriad philosophical doctrines involving justice. If life is mostly a genetic and situational lottery then what does that mean? Where's the justice?

For dinner I've made my village's traditional lamp stew... and a special soda bread.

He scarfs it down and asks for seconds. I warn him that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

He jokes that as long as I'm not speaking literally, then he is willing to take that risk.

Dessert is another homerun--pistachio cake with plum filling (a family secret recipe!).

He helps me wash the dishes then we are cuddling as cartoons dance on the screen. This time he is my little spoon!

He apologizes for everything. He's had time to reflect and it had felt so right... more than that, it was "transformational and mind blowing."

I giggle... then tell him to suck on my thumb already. He turns to look back at me; I shove my thumb into his mouth... he begins to eagerly suck.

I wait several minutes then retrieve my digit. He immediately rolls over and moves in for a kiss.

I press my hand to his face and explain that kissing is off-limits. It is so intimate that it must be reserved for marriage. He is taken aback then apologizes. He didn't know and he meant no harm. No, no... I should have explained that earlier.

He is dejected.

Me: "How about a nice, sensual massage instead?"

He is soon naked and lying on my bed. I blindfold him then tell him to cross his hands behind his head, where they must stay until I say otherwise.

He obeys.

I strip then pour massage oil all over my breasts. I climb on top of him then begin to glide over his chest before working my way down.

His soldier is already standing at attention; I nestle him in my cleavage then begin to slowly move against him. It's just a matter of minutes before I can tell he's fast approaching climax.

I pause to squirt oil over my hand. I reach down and without warning push my middle finger into his rectum. He bucks, I hold him down, then my finger finds his walnut and I begin to rub and press on it.

He tries to protest... I tell him not to worry, just give in to the pleasure.

He thrashes about... his head rocks back... I don't increase my tempo, just continue to gently milk him. Slow and steady will win this race.

I watch with amazement as his cock begins to gently bounce up and down... and then there is a clear fluid leaking out... and soon there's like a strand of a spider's web firmly attached to his belly.

I also marvel at his balls... they are large and appear to be pulsating. I want to feel him in my hand... I want to take him into my mouth but I'm hypnotized--it's now so hard it is shiny... and it is twitching in rhythm with my internal massage.

The fluid turns white and is leaking everywhere. My middle finger shifts into harder & faster mode...

He screams out obscenities then his hose begins to pump out white ropes. My eyes grow wide-- there's so much cum... even more than last time.

Him: "You might need to call an ambulance."

Me: "What?"

Him: "I think I just ruptured a testicle."

Me: "No, you'll be just fine in like half an hour or so."

Him: "No, I'm quite serious..."

Me: "We just need to take your mind off of that."

Call it divine inspiration... I crawl up, mount his face, then lower my flower bud to his mouth.

His powerful arms instinctively wrap around my thighs until I can barely move and then his magical tongue goes to work.

This is a first for me and I'm truly amazed by the sensations. He loses all semblance of restraint... this will not be a slow & steady thing... he begins to enthusiastically fuck me with his tongue.

The hungry noises he makes multiply my pleasure... I'm soon arching my back and squeezing my nipples. Who is this holy man?

There's a judo move, I'm suddenly on my back, my legs wrapped around his neck and he is devouring my virgin pussy. My legs begin to shake... every node in my body is being stimulated. What is happening?

My fingers slide into his hair and I grip and I pull him even further into me. His tongue finds my pea then his fingers join in and I'm being played like a musical instrument.

I scream, I hold my breath, I scream again. If my neighbor is home, she might very well call the police to report that I'm being violently attacked.

Can't help myself... I scream out again. Then he pushes one of his fingers, slick with my juices, into my asshole... while his other remains in place... and now they are both pressing against each other and sliding deeper.

Not sure how or why but I'm now biting into my forearm... the taste is metallic... and now he begins to eagerly suck... my toes curl, who knew that was a real thing? Then my entire body goes rigid... I hold my breath; I bite even harder... then I hang in the air... briefly... before I explode and begin to convulse.

I feel loved... there's a warmth spreading throughout my body... my tension being replaced by pure relaxation. I glance down, his face still between my legs but he is smiling and looking up at me.

I motion... he slides up my body and though my legs are wobbly, they still know where they belong. I lock them together behind his back.

Me: "What... what came over you?"

Him: "I'm not really sure... but it felt right so I just kept going."

Me: "Listen... seriously... you might need to call me an ambulance. It's my heart..."

He presses his ear to my chest, says there is a notable pounding... but it'll gradually calm down. I tell him pretty sure he is wrong about that.

An hour later... we've recovered... but it's clear we are now lovers. We spend the rest of the semester debating philosophical topics over dinner. Aside from that, we can't keep our hands off of each other... like our next racquetball game, I push him into the corner early so I can drop to my knees and pleasure him with my mouth.

But all good things must eventually come to an end. My stuff is now packed into boxes. He's here for my send-off. There's a knock on the door--my parents... the matchmaker.

I'm told to wait in my room while he's being interviewed. I give him a brief hug then say he needs to be completely honest.

Matchmaker: "On the scale from 1 to 10... from your point of view... how pleasing is her body in the visual sense?"

Him: "What?"

Matchmaker: "Like... she's not touching you... but she's naked... how turned-on did you become?"

Him: "Ahhh... like the most turned-on I've ever been in my life!"

Matchmaker: "So... a 10 then?"

Him: "No, more like a 100!"

Matchmaker (smiling to herself): "During the sensual massage... on the scale from 1 to 10, how hard did she make your manhood?"

Him: "What?"

Matchmaker: "Please... think back... this is important. How hard?"

Him: "Like, 500!"

Matchmaker: "Did she then satisfy your longings and hunger to your fullest desire or... could she have done better?"

Him: "She practically sent me to the hospital!"

Matchmaker: "In what way? Like did she injure you?"

Him: "No, no. Please don't misunderstand... it was an amazing thing... more like a miracle!"

Matchmaker: "And she used what technique, exactly?"

Him: "Like... she oiled up her... chest... and then put me... like in between her... ahh, breasts... I guess?"

Matchmaker: "Was that all?"

Him: "No... she also used... her finger."

Matchmaker: "Please expound..."

Him: "Couldn't you like just ask her?"

Matchmaker: "We already have her version of events. Please... tell us what happened."

Him: "Well, there was lots of oil and somehow she slid into my... back door."

Matchmaker: "Back door?"

Him: "You know..."

Matchmaker: "No, I don't know. Please explain further!"

Him: "My butt... then she did some mystical things."

Matchmaker: "What happened next?"

Him: "Well... eventually I... you know... had like this intense... orgasm."

Matchmaker: "Duly noted. And did you orgasm on other occasions... with her?"

Him: "Look... I'm not going to lie... maybe two... dozen... times."

Matchmaker: "Did the two of you ever engage in sexual relations?"

Him: "No! We are both still very much virgins, I swear."

Matchmaker: "Thank you for answering truthfully... allow me to introduce her parents... they may have additional questions for you."

He is now about ready to faint for real...

My father: "Did you ever kiss my daughter?"

Him: "What? Sorry, I didn't realize you were her father. Please trust me... I never defiled her in any way. She's still pure as snow."

My father: "I appreciate that. But... did you ever kiss each other on the lips?"

Him: "Let me think carefully... because I want to give you a truthful answer... no, no we never actually kissed."

My father: "That is well with my soul. Kissing is too intimate... aside from intercourse, it is the very thing that must remain between a husband and a wife."

My mom: "In our culture... after a girl has turned 19, we hang a primitive necklace made of shells like this at the door. Any suitor may seize it and demand our daughter's presence. But it's still her choice... only she decides... with her lips."

She tosses it on the table...

The committee stands, my father calls my name. I rejoin the group. The matchmaker confirms that I have honored my vows and am now eligible to choose my mate.

My dad walks to the door and whistles; guys are soon carrying my boxes out to the truck.

Nobody is saying a word... it's a bittersweet moment. As my last box is being hauled out, I walk over and thank him for everything. "You'll always have a special place in my heart."

He's crying... I turn to walk away.

Him: "Hold! I mean... I'm holding the necklace... you must allow me to make my case!"

We all look at him... half-crazed as he is.

Him to me: "You are my everything. I will shrivel up and die without you. Please choose me... we will have babies and raise them until they get married and then we will grow old together and enjoy time with our grandbabies."

Me: "I know that you love me... and, please know that I love you as well with all my heart. But I need to return to my village... I cannot remain in your world."

Him to me: "Leave and I have no world. Marry me and like in the book of Ruth... verse 1:16... 'your people will be my people.'" (he drops to his knees)

I tackle him to the ground, kiss him all over his face then find his lips and as our tongues intwine, I break away just long enough to make it clear "I choose you!" then I suck his tongue back in my mouth.

7 Years Later

We are still happily married and now have three children. I help manage the church that my father-in-law founded immediately after his son decided we should raise our family here in my village.

My husband is now an esteemed village elder; he heads up so many projects.

We are both pillars in our community... and a living example that miracles continue to happen even in this day and age.

(I continue to believe that, even though during our wedding reception, it came to light that the Preacher and my Village Matchmaker had worked together some 30 years ago and had remained loyal friends ever since...)