The Travels Of A Nymphomaniac - 3 The Hands Of A Goddess Are So Good.
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3 The Hands Of A Goddess Are So Good.

He who spent all his young life enclosed within the walls of an abbey that was certainly warm but modest and uncomfortable, being able to feel the gentle natural breeze that caresses his cheeks and makes his long hair fly, it's no different from discovering an Eden that until then had been inaccessible to him.

The young monk is, however, slightly frustrated. How free he would feel if he could enjoy this well-being without being bothered by this discomfort that refuses to leave him in peace.

With his hands covering the part of his robe from which his holy limb wants to escape, the young monk observes the magnificent tonic thighs of the young G.o.ddess who turns around in front of him and gives him a most sublime smile.

When suddenly the celestial beauty stops her steps and comes towards him, Dimitry tenses up. Has she noticed his shameful holy limb, whose anger makes it rise against heaven?

"Come with me, I will teach you how to free yourself from this evil who took possession to your body."

Unable to resist the beautiful blue eyes whose sweetness can only belong to angels, when the G.o.ddess withdraws the hand of the young man covering his robe and gently takes it easy in hers. Like hypnotized by this beauty, Dimitry, is led to the entrance of the little forest.

The smell of the sap flowing over the trunks of the pines and the chirping of the birds playing as they fly from branch to branch, enchants the young monk, but much more than this view offered by nature's great generosity, it is the softness of the little hand that guides him behind a gigantic tree that occupies the majority of his thoughts.

"Now, let yourself go and you'll see, when I finish my holy sacrament, your body will feel much better."

What a holy woman. So she brought him here, in the middle of this forest, away from everyone's eyes, for the sole and gentle purpose of offering him the holy sacrament of the G.o.ds.

"Thank you G.o.ddess, I am unworthy of your good intentions and..."

Suddenly his mouth tightens. In his back he can feel the two enormous b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the beautiful, freed from her warrior's outfit, pressing against the back of her dress. His face gets tense when the G.o.ddess' mouth puts a kiss on his neck, then she moves closer to his ear and whispers a few words that make him tremble.

As she has just told him, her thin arms go around his hips and slowly loosen the linen cord that acts as a belt on his dress.

He would like to tell her that it is wrong, that if she continues, his holy member corrupted by the devil will spring like a spear ready for a most bitter fight, but it is too late. Already his linen rope falls to the ground, and immediately his holy limb almost tears the cloth as he rises to heaven and defies the divine.

Rhea gently caresses the muscular bust of the naive young man who has just unconsciously offered himself to her hungry fangs. His skin, as soft as a baby's, excites her so much that her mouth moves towards his neck again. As her tongue comes up from his neck to bite his earlobe, her hand goes down on the well-drawn abdominal muscles.

Her hand wanders quietly over his lower body, sometimes accidentally b.u.mping into the monk's big erect s.e.x, which jumps at each of their contacts.

"Beware G.o.ddess, this object is cursed."

Rhea holds back so as not to laugh. Naivety? No, at this point, it's more like stupidity. However, to rea.s.sure the trembling idiot in her arms, she kisses him lovingly on the cheek.

"I know and that is why I must use my holy body to drive out this devil who has taken possession of this beautiful c.o.c.k. Now I'm gonna start w.a.n.k you. Excuse me, I must now begin my holy sacrament, so be a good boy, spread your thighs a bit to allow this beautiful c.o.c.k to spit out the evil that's been in it and let me do my G.o.ddess duty."

Her hand stops running down the belly-belt of the handsome monk, whose rapid breathing is already interspersed with cute little moans, and not being able to wait any longer, she grabs the young man's big c.o.c.k.

Although she has already held this magnificent s.e.x between her fingers, she is still surprised that such a tool could belong to a man of G.o.d. Pus.h.i.+ng away this thought that will lead her nowhere, she tightens her grip around the c.o.c.k that jumps and tries to escape, then slowly she starts to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e the young man.

Without missing the expressions of the monk's deformed face of pleasure, her hand goes up and down along the long furious rod, which swells with pleasure.

"Do you like it when I w.a.n.k you slowly, or do you want me to speed it up?"

Dimitry doesn't understand what's happening to him. Since the G.o.ddess began her holy sacrament, his head has completely emptied. His whole body is subjected to an indescribable feeling of well-being and he feels his blood rus.h.i.+ng into his holy limb which has never been so big.

The words of the G.o.ddess are a little complex for an uninitiated person such as a monk in braided straw sandals. Moreover, in his state, Dimitry can only utter a few words that are totally incomprehensible.

Rhea, who can understand this state of affairs, accelerates her movement. Her hand tightens a little more around the young d.i.c.k and it goes faster and faster. The monk's thick glans disappears and shows itself again more and more often.

When the young monk's glans lets some pre-ejaculatory liquid escape, Rhea lets go of the vigorous c.o.c.k, which, freed from her little hand, jumps and comes to hit the young man's abdominals out of breath.

Spoiling such a precious liquid can't be considered for the beautiful blonde who has just bypa.s.sed the young man and knelt down in front of his thighs.

Without catching the half-colossus, she puts her tongue close to the monk's b.a.l.l.s and slowly lets it slide down his stem until it reaches his boiling glans.

With a small stroke of her tongue, she cleans the pre-ejaculatory liquid that has run down the tip of this beautiful d.i.c.k and gently she wraps her lips around the young man's glans.

When the G.o.ddess wraps her warm lips around his cursed object, the young monk with the scarlet-faced face who feels something bursting in his extremity, pushes a long moan and immediately, a powerful jet made of a whitish liquid coming from the bottom of his entrails is expelled in the throat of the holy woman who lets out a few drops that drip down along her so beautiful lips.