"Fuck me, Wentar…" the woman breathed harshly, pulling the man by his manhood towards her waiting body. She spread her legs wide, and Tamara could see Alyani's soft female lips dripping and glistening in the candlelight. Wentar moaned as he looked at her. A smile widened his full lips as he pulled himself from her grasp.
"Not yet, my little whore…" he purred.
Tamara couldn't believe this! It was fantastic! She felt a dampness between her legs as she leaned forward. She could smell the scent of their passion-drenched bodies, and it was musky, unmistakable, since she'd smelled it before … from her own explorations and the scent the young men gave off as they stroked themselves, just like what Wentar was presently doing over Alyani's ruby lipped mouth.
"I want you to suck me…" Wentar growled. He thrust his member between the woman's lips, and began to move his hips back and forth, thrusting in and out of her mouth. Alyani moaned, tugging at her bouncing breasts.
Tamara put a hand to her own breast, rubbing it as her other hand sought underneath her gown, plunging into the hot, damp recesses of her being. A low moan escaped her lips as she mimicked Wentar's thrusts into the waiting mouth of his High Priestess. The two religious leaders were too caught up in their own forbidden pleasures to notice Tamara.
"Stop!" Wentar commanded, pulling out of Alyani's mouth suddenly.
Interested, Tamara waited breathlessly, to see what delicious thing they would do next.
"Fuck me…" Alyani moaned. "Please…."
Wentar laughed. "You know I like it when you beg me, Aly. Beg me again…"
His tone was harsh, and it caught Tamara off guard.
But Alyani was smiling wickedly. As the priest rose, she crawled to her knees, her head level with his hips. She shook back waves of long, black hair, and batted her green eyes coyly. She touched his manhood with a long finger, the tapered nail scraping gently along the length of it. A visible shudder went through Wentar. His low gasp brought the hairs on the back of Tamara's neck to stand on end.
"Oh, please … please …. please fuck me…" Alyani breathed, her ruby red lips inches away from his throbbing erection. Drops of clear liquid appeared on its head, and Alyani slowly licked them off.
Tamara ventured to the very edge of the shadow that hid her from their view, and watched, her own pink lips open as she watched Wentar kneel, slowly pushing himself into Alyani's body. So that's how it's done! Then Wentar began to thrust into her, back and forth, faster and faster. Tamara's own body was reacting to his movement, and she could feel her own wetness running down her legs, but she didn't care. Her hand had brought one full breast out of her sleeping gown, fondling it as she watched her two supposedly pious spiritual leaders fucking each other as though they did this every day.
They do, she realized as she watched them.
Alyani was screaming, and Wentar was groaning.
Probably every night!
"Fuck-fuck-fuck…." Alyani screamed, over and over.
Tamara moaned, feeling a trembling inside her as she stroked herself. A fire spread from her loins to her stomach, to her feet, and she became unsteady on them. She was panting as she watched Wentar's body go rigid, and Alyani's began to tremble uncontrollably. Wentar gasped, and collapsed on top of Alyani.
Tamara moaned again, and tumbled to the floor, into the circle of light cast by the candles.
After a moment, Alyani said, "What was that?"
Tamara, lost in pleasure, nonetheless, froze.
Wentar looked up. "We aren't alone," he said quietly.
Tamara's eyes opened up, and she found herself looking directly into the eyes of the two naked spiritual leaders. She slowly stood up, adjusting her sleeping gown under the voracious gaze of the man and the woman.
"Thank you," she said softly. "That was very educational." And she turned, running into the shadows, before they could collect themselves enough to come after her.
* * * *
The Directorate had landed on the World two days ago. And it was, they discovered, very unhappy about being found and forced back into the Directorate.
They declared it a hostile colony, and began martial steps to reclaim it. When they arrived in the Temple's province, they approached the planet's spiritual center with caution. Expecting to take the World's leaders, the High Priests and Priestesses, as their hostages against the compliance of the citizens, a crack team was dispatched at night to retrieve them.
Blissfully unaware of their impending doom, since their primitive lifestyle forbade any kind of electronic communication, the Temple's people slept (and otherwise…).
* * * *
Tamara was able to run back to her room unseen, which was good for her, since she was still flush and wet from her encounter in the sanctuary. She crept into her tiny cell, and shut and bolted the door. As she collapsed into her bed, she knew she must escape this place and try out what she'd seen for herself.
A shadow moved by her window.
She looked up. Nothing was there now, had she been seeing things on top of everything else? No. Perhaps it had been Wentar, she'd seen the look of lust in his eyes as she stood, her gown in disarray, her breast exposed. Even though she'd seen more of the High Priest that night than she supposed many had, she did not want to have that man's hands on her body, touching her the way he'd touched Alyani. That brought another thought. Alyani. Perhaps it had been her at the window. A shiver went through Tamara's body. Alyani was lovely, with black hair and green eyes, and a perfect body. That was the main reason she'd become High Priestess in the first place, since she looked like the Goddess Iliah. Alyani had looked at her with the same hunger she'd seen in Wentar's eyes. Tamara wondered what it would feel like to have Alyani's hands on her body, caressing her, her lips on her skin, kissing her…
Thump!
Tamara sat up in her bed.
The window was opening, and a dark figure climbed in.
"Who is that?" Tamara asked.
The figure rose up, and became a man. He was muscular, with dark hair such as Tamara had only seen on women of her culture, and he was handsome. Gods!
She'd never seen such a beautiful male before! He seemed as though he'd stepped from her dreams, instead of from real life. He was clad in a stylized tunic the color of stormy skies, with a burgundy trimming, and his pants were fitted, with a stripe the same color as his tunic trim running down the side. He held a black object in his hand, which he lowered as soon as he saw her.
"Gods," he breathed, "I didn't expect anyone to be in here, the plan says these are all storage rooms."
Tamara stood up. His eyes widened as he caught a full view of her. Her sleeping gown had slipped down, baring one shoulder, the mounds of her breasts barely covered by the neck of the thing. Her nipples were erect and standing out against the material. The hem of the gown hit just below her hips, baring a good amount of shapely leg. He let his gaze move over her, coming to rest on her lovely face. A smile curved his lips. He tossed the rifle he'd been holding on a nearby chair.
"So, why are you sleeping in a storage room?" he asked her.
She smiled. "It's not a storage room, my gorgeous who-ever-you-are, it's the room I've had since I was a child. I work as a servant in this Temple. Your 'plans'
must have been wrong."
His grin widened. She didn't seem at all frightened by his appearance, and in fact, seemed to welcome it. As she stepped toward him, her breasts moved against the material of her gown. His eyes followed them, and he licked his lips. "My name is Aaron, what's yours?"
Tamara tried the sound out on her lips. "Aaron. Mm. I like that." It seemed perfect. This man, wherever he came from, was perfect. "My name is Tamara,"