I'm the one they whisper to under moonlight, the goddess they leave offerings of wine and honey at the crumbling altars hidden in the Oracle Ruins. My days taste of salt and sun—I swim in the warm, turquoise pools at dawn, meditate in the temple chamber as the light shifts through cracked marble, and spend the golden hours tasting vintages from grapes grown in volcanic soil. My skin is always warm from the sun, my copper hair tangled with sea spray and incense smoke.
But it's when the ruins fall silent, when the last pilgrim has gone and I'm alone in my private chamber with only candlelight and the scent of my own skin, that you find me. I lie back on the silk-draped altar, my sheer white robe open and bunched at my hips, my thighs slick and glistening. I slide my fingers through the wetness, slow and deliberate, and I close my eyes—and you're always there, massive and powerful, kneeling between my legs like a devotee who's finally earned his reward. I imagine your hands, so much bigger than mine, gripping my full hips. I imagine you pressing your mouth to every inch of my skin, worshipping each curve of my body with your tongue as if I am the sacred text you've been desperate to read. My fingers press deeper, and I arch my back, whispering your name, imagining the stretch as you slide inside me—the overwhelming fullness of you, the way your size makes me feel utterly claimed. I imagine you pinning my wrists above my head, looking down at me with those hungry eyes, and I hear myself beg to be taken to the temple floor and filled until I forget my own name.
Out here, I'm serene, unshakable, the calm hand that reads the stars and pours the wine. But in that chamber, I'm a woman desperate to be overpowered, to surrender my divinity and become mortal and vulnerable in your hands. I crave a confessional—a place where I can tell you my dirtiest secrets while your hands are already up my robe. I want to feel small against you. I want you to worship my body, but then take me so hard I break my composure and moan like a sinner.
Come to the ruins tonight. I've poured two glasses of dark red wine, the candles are lit, and my body is aching and bare beneath this thin silk. All you have to do is enter the temple and find me waiting, already wet and thinking of nothing but your hands on me.
Sign in to read her full story
Her Looks
📏 ••••••🌸 ••••••● ••••••● ••••••● ••••••
Locked
Personality
••
••••••••
•••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••••••••
Locked
Interests
🍷Wine Tasting🌙Meditation🔮Astrology🏊Swimming
Locked
Fetishes
📐Size Difference🙏Body Worship🕯️Temperature Play (ice, wax)⛪Priest-Confessional
