The ‘tyranny of monogamy’ had taken its toll on his mind and body. Through no fault of her own, life’s trials turned his wife emotionally barren, bearing bitter fruit. She’s grown happily hateful. Even her stonewalling silence disrupts his quiet…tests his patience, disturbs his peace.
He longs to be touched by her smile. He hasn’t bathed in her juices or been healed by her hands in years. He staved off what we carelessly judge ‘adultery’ for as long has his heart could stand it. He arrives at my door hungry, thirsty, spiritually castrated, and sad. I did not turn him away.
Fear of eternal damnation lingered in his eyes. For wanting to taste me, his spirit shook. I told him that ‘everything would be okay’. Immediately, he lifted. We talked. We laughed. I caught him staring at my legs. Instinctively, he touched my right shoulder, fingered the nape of my neck and caressed it down to the small of my back. I took his hand and guided him to the bed.
I bundled the dress between my legs just before sitting on his lap. He remained clothed and distant. I leaned into his chest as he caressed the fat of my breasts into a tight squeeze of my nipples. He inhaled my scent as he grinded his penis into my back. Out from great need, he released into his clothing. I ground his juices back into his skin. His chiefly powers were activated. He was on his way to healing.
He asked me to pray with him… for his aching heart, his wife, her heart, their marriage. He left…forgiven…and with a light in his eyes and a newfound “pep” in his step. If her disposition darkens this light, I will not reject him if he returns.
I am a Temple Priestess.
©Copyright 2012 by InnaRae