This is my second story for Literotica. I would greatly welcome comments, suggestions, or just encouragement from any of you out there. Hope you enjoy this one.


I still hate my alarm clock. I still hate being woken up suddenly. I much prefer waking up slowly, enjoying that time between waking and sleeping; where dreams and reality mix.

That morning, as I awoke my hands were rubbing my ample breasts, gently kneading them and causing my erect nipples to rub against my bedsheet. As my arousal increased I allowed one hand to touch and start to squeeze a nipple, while the other moved down to my fleshy mound. A finger rubbed gently up and down the soft velvety skin at the meeting place, until it felt a hint of slippery moisture. It pressed on the moist spot, the lips parted and my finger slid in to the warmth, in towards the source of the moisture. It pressed into the softness of the opening to be rewarded by a small gush of the juice it was seeking. My moist finger now moved up between the lips and onto my little pleasure bud. Had my finger been dry that touch would have been painful, but the lubrication it had sought made the almost-pain into the greatest pleasure. The greatest, that is, until it started a regular slow circle of massage. Each time my finger passed over the most sensitive place I felt my whole body being tensed and pressurised. The pleasure and pressure increased and increased until I exploded in to the final ecstasy.

All of which was very strange. I was a 19 year old male virgin. In those days kids had a lot less sexual experience. There were stories of terrible diseases, the risk of pregnancy and shotgun marriages, and for girls the shame of being thought ‘loose’. For many their first sexual contact would be clumsy ignorant fumbling on their wedding night. I had never seen, and certainly never touched a naked female breast. My experience of the more private female parts was zero. So it was very strange that in my dream I had been so accurate as to the anatomy and feelings of the female body. I, at the time, had no way of knowing that my imagination was correct.

I had good reason to know about the shame of unwanted pregnancy and ‘loose’ women. My mother was just such a loose woman, and I was the result of just such a pregnancy. My father, however, had got away with it. He was just one of my Mum’s many encounters. She now ran a small shop selling cigarettes, newspapers, and odds and ends, but there were still evenings or afternoons when she would give me enough money to go to the cinema, and tell me not to come home again before such and such a time, and there were still women in the town who would “Not be seen dead in that shop with that woman.” It was perhaps because of her experience that she had always made sure that I should not risk my, or any girl’s future for momentary pleasure or excitement.

The town was small, but as was typical in those days it had all the shops that most people needed for their simple inexpensive lives. There were a couple of other shops like my mother’s, several butchers, a drapers, a small furniture shop, and so on.

There were also a couple of greengrocer’s shops, one of which was next door and part of the same building as our own. This was another shop that some people would not be seen dead in, because in those days the prejudice against those with non-white skins was a lot more common, and there were a lot fewer people with black or brown skins in England, especially in small market towns like ours. She was the only person of Indian origin that most people had ever seen, and although she had by far the best quality and value vegetables in the town, many could not bring themselves to buy them from her. She was, and still is, a lovely woman, both physically and in character, and she and my mother were great friends. I can remember the sound of their voices in the evening coming up from the little kitchen behind our shop as I drifted off to sleep. The soft murmur, and the occasional chimes of laughter as they chatted and played cards or dominoes together was my lullaby. We all called her Sunny, although her name was something more complicated that we could never pronounce properly, although our attempts to do so would cause more laughter from her.

Sunny grew many of the vegetables she sold, which accounted for their quality. We were never short of vegetables. There were long gardens behind both our shops and as my mother had no skills or inclination to be a gardener Sunny used both back gardens. I enjoyed helping Sunny there, and on leaving school had started working for the local council, hoping to work in the Parks department, but as my school results were quite good, I had been promoted into a boring clerical job in the offices. While my colleagues would leave work and go to the pub, I would go home, looking forward to some fresh air and working with Sunny in the garden. I must admit that there were other ideas in my shy teenage mind as well. Sunny used to wear western clothes aksaray escort when serving in the shop, but she was uncomfortable in them, and for her gardening she wore indian clothes. These revealed a lot more about the shapes underneath them, and I would often position myself so as to get the best view of her as she worked. Although at the time I thought that I did this secretly, I now know that in fact she really enjoyed being watched and admired, and would even fulfil my fantasies and let the fabric slip a little revealingly from time to time.

Her religion meant that she was vegetarian. She would cook dishes that were totally strange to our tastes, at least they were strange at first. She often gave us samples of her dishes, and we grew to like and look forward to them.

Neither of our shops were too busy, and so in time the adjoining wall was removed, and Mum or I would mind both sides, while Sunny would work in the kitchen or garden. She was able to grow more, and even devoted space to growing her own herbs and some spices. I was able to leave my office job to help.

I now realise that it was on the day before my waking dream that I had been into another ladies bedroom for the first time. By another lady, I of course mean one that was not my mother. Sunny had asked me to go upstairs to her room to help her to move furniture around. We had moved a wardrobe to another room, and moved her bed onto a different wall. Her bedroom was the mirror of my own, and I now realise that following the move, her bed and my own were parallel, separated by the thin brick wall.

That evening Sunny had again cooked for us, and among the other dishes there were a few small spicy lentil balls. When you bit into them, inside the crusty exterior was a soft spicy green filling, made from spinach or similar leaves and herbs. Sunny and I ate them between us, Mum did not have any. When I went up to my bedroom I felt that there was something odd in the way that both Sunny and Mum told me to sleep well.

So I had this strange and wonderful dream.

After the dream, when I was fully awake I got dressed and went down to breakfast. Again, there was something odd about the way in which my Mum asked if I had slept well. I ate some toast, then took my tea, and an extra cup through into the shop, where I gave it to Sunny. She tried hard to keep a straight face when she asked me if I had had sweet dreams, but my embarrassed response made her face break into a huge grin as the laughter broke through. Have I mentioned just how incredibly attractive she was, and still is, when she smiled or laughed.

“Your Mum said that it was time you knew, although I think that I might have gone a bit further than she expected.”

I stood there not understanding what she had said.

“So now you know!”

She laughed again.

“Now you know what a ladies body is like. You are lucky, now you know a lot more that many grown men.”

I was still dumbfounded and not understanding. The shop door opened, and Sunny sold a newspaper and some cigarettes. When the shop was empty again, she continued.

“That dream. I gave it to you. It was a good one, wasn’t it.”

An inkling of understanding crept between my ears.

“Uuuur, How?”

You know those lentil balls last night that we enjoyed last night. Well we enjoyed them even more this morning. Now my bed is closer to yours the herbs help us to communicate.

I stood silent as the inkling took further shape.

“You mean, mind reading?”

“No, more than that, more like mind joining. You know that everyone has an aura?”

I looked puzzled.

“Its a sort of glow that everybody has around them. Nowadays only a few people can see it. You know the pictures of your Christian saints have a halo, well the aura is a bit like that. I was taught how to make my aura merge with someone else’s. When that happens we can share thoughts, feelings and things.

“I think I understand. Ummmm, Thank you.” I whispered. This made Sunny give me the most ravishing grin I had ever seen.

“So it is all right then? Would you like me to teach you some more?”

Her laughter at the sight of my face then was so loud that my mother came through from the back. She was laughing as well, and somehow the two women just started to hug me, and we were all in tears of laughter and joy for ages. We were lucky that no customers came in, or our shop’s reputation amongst the prudish rumour-mongers would have fallen even further.

I then started to learn Sunny’s story.

She was born in southern India, and had been given, as was not unusual, to the local temple. No stigma was attached to the girls, they were to be married to the gods, and thus to be respected. These girls in the temple were trained in all the female skills, and were usually politely called temple dancers, although their skills were much broader than just dance. There was gardening, cooking, and the preparations anal yapan escort of sweetmeats. Many of the Gods are said to have a particularly sweet tooth. These skills were not, however those in the greatest demand. Men would give money or goods to the temple, and could, in return, praise the gods by pleasuring themselves with the temple’s dancers.

For an especially generous gift, a donor could obtain sole access to one of the dancers, or even the privilege of first consummating a girls marriage to the gods. This had happened to Sunny. A young aristocratic British army officer had visited the temple and been entranced by the young girl. Unusually, this officer had learned much of the local language and customs – much to the disgust of more senior staff who accused him of ‘going native’. He had given what was a large sum even in British terms, an absolute fortune to an Indian, to the temple, and effectively bought Sunny. He intended the purchase as an adoption, to protect her from what he thought was prostitution, and had no carnal intentions towards her.

As was the custom she remained at the temple, which was for the best as he could not have her living with him in the army encampment. He managed to keep the transaction secret from other British ears. At the temple she grew, and diligently learned her skills. He would visit her, and teach her English, while she taught more of her language to him. When she was fully grown, and old enough, about my age when I had the dream, she started to practice these skills on her master, and he was very soon being pleasured by her in more ways than just visually. She also educated him as to her religious understanding of sexual matters, and eventually he agreed that he should be loved by her in the best possible way. There was a certain degree of ritual involved in the giving of a temple dancer’s virginity. After all, he was to be representing the god in the lovemaking. He was washed, perfumed, dressed in heavy silks given food and drink, and finally led to the inner chamber where the god’s wife was waiting.

In the chamber the wife had been similarly prepared. According to the ritual, she would dance for him, and then they would share sweet cordials and milk, and would eat small lentil balls. They would then sleep chastely together, both still fully dressed. This was to said to let the gods take possession of his body and mind. In the morning they would wake, and once again she would dance, but this time gradually shedding her clothing while also removing his. The dance would became more intimate and closer Then she would guide the naked god to a raised padded platform, and have him lie down again. Then she danced herself into the position for the first full joining of the god with his wife.

By now the ingredients of the previous evenings lentil balls would have taken effect, and the god would be able to feel all the pleasure of normal sex, but also, somehow, feel the girls sensations at the same time. Thus their movements could be perfectly synchronised. He could not only feel the tightness of her entrance, he could also feel the start of the pain as he pushed against her hymen She felt the pain, but also the pleasure of her passage’s friction on his penis’ head. He lay on his back while she danced over him. Time and again she had him penetrate up to her barrier, only to release him and to reposition herself so that they both felt the glory of a penis rubbing a clitoris. They each felt the other’s excitement, so that when she eventually positioned herself over him one final time, and while they both felt the pain and resistance to ultimate entry, they were both also at the heights of feeling. For the first time she let all her weight fall on their joining place, her hymen tore, they both gasped with the pain, and then they both came in the peak of their utmost shared pleasure. The throb of her bleeding hymen and the pulsing of her vaginal muscles was mixed with the pumping and surging of the semen.

Sunny describes all this, and how she then fell forward and straightened her legs. How he raised his arms and hugged her. Both felt the sparks of pleasure as his chest hair caressed her engorged nipples.

They had slept again for a time, to allow the god to return his body, and then awakened each other, to discover more about each other and themselves. Even though the effects of the lentil balls wore off over a few hours, they could still recall just how the other felt things and so the wonderful erotic communication was shared.

The officer and the temple dancer shared many evenings and nights in this way, but they always remembered that first throbbing surging full loving penetration.

Then he was seriously injured. He was unconscious. The army medics could do nothing. Sunny knew nothing of this for several days, and when she did hear of it she rushed to the camp hospital and, using her temple status, persuaded the Indian hospital guards to allow her atakent escort into his room. An Indian nurse was caring for him. Sunny spoke to her and learned all she could about the injuries. The nurse, having great respect for the traditional skills did not stop Sunny as she withdrew a tiny bottle from her sari, took a sip, and then dripped some into his slightly open lips. Sunny seated herself on the floor beside his low bed, and seemed to go into a trance. She made no sound, but she went pale, and started sweating. She grimaced. She was feeling the terrible pain which his unconsciousness was protecting him from. She searched his mind for awareness, and finally managed to make contact with the person within. When he described it later he spoke in terms of waking to waves of pain, but with a loving hand guiding him upwards. With his consciousness at a higher level she was able to sense his injuries, and realised that there were more than the medics had found and treated. She emerged from her trance, and standing, ran her hands over his skull. She found an area of sensitivity. When she touched it she shared his searing pain and almost fainted. She showed the spot to the nurse, who called one of the medics. They pushed Sunny out of the room, but minutes later he was in the operating theatre having the broken sliver of bone and the blood clot underneath removed.

Over the next few weeks he made a fair recovery. Sunny managed to be engaged as an unpaid nurse looking after him. It was clear that he would never be fully fit again, and soon Sunny found herself nursing him on a troop ship on the way to England. Then, she was living in an English stately home, speaking only English, nursing an invalid. As long as he lived she was fairly happy, but his health was always poor, and after a couple of years she found herself waiting, with the other women of the house, for the return of the menfolk from his funeral.

In his will he left her enough money to set herself up in a small business, which is how she came to now be a greengrocer.

My mum had befriended her while I was still an infant. Slowly, trust had been gained, stories had been told, and my Mum had learned a few of the temple dancers skills, enough for her to be able to have only the most select, high spending nocturnal visitors, and why she could still earn good money despite being rather older than most in her trade. It also explained why, even though the shop was not busy, we were not particularly short of money.

Mum told me that she had encountered so many uncaring, clumsy, or ignorant men in her life that she did not want her son to be like that. In Sunny she had a superb tutor for me.

My lessons from Sunny over the next few weeks were difficult but enormously pleasurable both for myself and for her. Sometimes we both ate the lentil balls, or sipped the herbal essence, on other occasions, only one of us would do so. With practice I found that, even without the herb, I could feel her feelings and needs while suppressing my own. She had not had a partner since she was effectively widowed. It took her quite a time and much effort to regain her full skills. I started the lessons with hair trigger reactions, but she taught me to control them. We learned to explore ourselves and each other, getting the greatest pleasure from giving it.

It was only after several evenings and nights together that we actually made love for the first time. As I gently pushed myself into her that first time I saw tears forming in her lovely eyes, and stopped, thinking that I was hurting her. She moved under me, and took me further in. Encouraged, I pressed inwards again, and as her silky warmth surrounded me I saw that beautiful smile glowing in her face. The tear was for the past. Now was the future. I kissed her, and our tongues entwined and delved as enthusiastically as my penis was now doing. We stopped kissing, stopped moving altogether, looked into each other’s eyes, and knew that all was right. Then we both started a slow steady rhythm of fucking. I have no idea how long it lasted. It could have been seconds or hours. The world went away, we were nothing but a prick and a cunt pleasuring each other. I could feel her cunt, my cunt tightening round my prick, her prick. The head of our prick rubbed against that wonderful G spot area just inside us that was becoming more and more engorged. As her climax shuddered through us, and my semen gushed between us we were as totally united as it was possible to be. Oh, yes, it was so, so right.

We exhausted ourselves, and regained strength from each other. She told me of times in the temple when she really felt as if it was truly the god who was pleasuring himself in her, and more and more she saw me as a new god to worship and enjoy. In just the same way, she was my goddess, and my role was to give her everything she could possibly desire. We worshipped together.

God and Goddess became husband and wife. Our marriage caused such mutterings around the town as :-

“He must be twenty years younger than she is”,

“I don’t like to think of a nice white English lad like him going with a, you know, a darkie like her”.

Mum, Sunny and I decided to sell the shops, and to buy a small market garden with a small comfortable secluded house.



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