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The Dreams of Gods and Their Lovers

For JCFoxman

By Draconicon

Shareeda Ghanem knew the sound of the rippling portal as it opened at the back of her tent. Having heard it twice a month for over a year, she knew it well, and the lioness smiled as her latest client left her quarters, the camel making his way across the oasis back to his caravan, doubtless to brag of her to his comrades. She imagined that it would drum up more business for The Burning Sands, as her beauty always inspired such things in the travelers that came their way. Even those that were not given the chance to see her privately were keen to speak as if they had, and it always brought more to the oasis than it had before.

Not that they ever had what they claimed to have. The most that they had ever seen in the past year was her bare, and the most that they had felt were her hands upon their chests, running down to their waists, but no more. Not since she had entered into a relationship with the man on the other side of the portal.

Man. She smiled to herself as she gathered her clothing, a simple wrap around her shoulders that was clasped with a small scarab broach at the hollow of her throat and a jade belt from a traveler that had no coin to pay around her waist. Such things were simple, but of high quality, and even they were hardly worthy of the 'man' on the other side of the portal.

I am, however...and that is enough.

Shareeda took a deep breath, closing the flaps of her tent before turning to the ever-louder spinning lights behind her. What had been the back flaps of the dark purple chamber had turned to a whirling circle, a spiral that would have been better suited for the rippling waters of the far seas than the still air here. Yet, she could see through it, a silhouette of a river that ran in the distance, and past it, another tent.

"I come, my beloved," she said.

As the lioness stepped through the portal, the humid air of the oasis faded, replaced by the soft breeze of the air brought by the river before her. It swept away the heat of the day that had been so oppressive, leaving her relieved and refreshed as she approached her destination.

Shareeda smiled at the familiar tent. Though it was no less familiar than her own at this point, it was still as impressive as it had been on her first summons. Where hers was purple, his was a deep blue, with folds of cloth that ran down and tied themselves to the ground in perfect stillness, yet still seemed to flow and crash like the water that battered the rocks mid-stream behind her. It loomed over her, a miniature mountain of fabric on an otherwise empty plain of sand beside the water.

The lioness paused at the entrance, looking through the transparent cloth flaps at he who lay within. Her beloved looked back at her, golden eyes glimmering in the shaded interior. He lifted a cup of gold and gestured for her to step through, and Shareeda, obedient to a fault, smiled and did as she was told.

"My love," she said as she delicately brushed one of the flaps out of the way. "I almost wondered if you had forgotten me."

"Never, my beauty."

His voice rolled and rumbled like only a god's could, and why not, for that was what he was. The great alligator that lay sprawled on pillows and cushions alike was the Guardian of Rivers, the last of the Walking Gods and, much as she could scarcely believe it, her beloved, Kenemon. He smiled at her, shifting in his cushions, and Shareeda knew something had changed.

He was nearly naked today, something that was quite different from his usual modest appearance. Oh, he never wore the same garments as the traders and merchants that passed through The Burning Sands, but he had always worn proper trousers, long white things that covered him from waist to ankle. Today, however, he wore naught but a loincloth, and one that was nearly sheer, at that.

Shareeda smiled at the exposed scales of her beloved, shaking her head as she stepped closer to him. The soft rugs of her home tent could not compare to the cushions that lay about him, lifting her from the earth as if Kenemon could not bear to see her soiled to touch the earth. He held out his hand, and she took it, using it to support herself as she moved closer and closer to him.

"You honor me with the sight of you, beloved," the lioness said as she finally reached him, taking her place at his side. With one of his arms around her shoulders, she nuzzled against him, leaning her head against his chest. "You must have something on your mind."

"I do, but your company is a treasure unto itself. Let me savor your presence for a moment, first."

She imagined that they would be savoring far more than each other's company tonight. She had seen other men come to her in greater states of undress than this, but Kenemon had always been honorable, always modest. Not once had he been dressed in less than fine trousers and sandals, not once had he exposed himself to her to this degree, always offering her a modesty that had been lacking in her daily life.

To change like this, without warning, was a sign that she could see all too easily.

She ran her hand down his thigh as he pulled her closer, closing her eyes to focus on the feeling of the muscles beneath his scales, the soft, rasping scent that was so different to the furred males that visited her tent and their feminine concubines. Here, in this tent by the river, the rest of the world faded away, leaving her alone with her deific lover, the only lover that she had yet to consummate her relationship with.

Her fingers trailed from his upper thigh down to his knee, so conscious of both the size of his limb and the differences between them. Not merely in scale and size, but in the feeling of his scales against her fur. So different, so sharp a contrast, and yet, so lovely at the same time. She imagined what lay beneath that loincloth, and a smile of fantasy and satisfaction began to take residence upon her face, pulling at her lips and drawing them up to the edges of her muzzle.

"My beauty," Kenemon whispered.

"Yes, my love?"

"It has been...a long time."

"Since we came together? Yes...yes, it has."

"And you have never regretted it?"

"Regretted what?" Shareeda asked, chuckling softly, her fingers tracing around the outside of his leg and past his waist, stroking a long, unbroken line along his hard abs and up to his chest. "Becoming your follower, your devotee?"

"It is a lonely life, devoted to a god, particularly one so far away."

"It is tribute to you, then, my love, that you keep me. For what other man could satisfy a woman, seeing her but twice a month?"

"..."

"I gaze upon you and see the beauty of man, Kenemon," she said, tilting her head back, her eyes meeting his, and he held them in a way that no customer ever had, even in her most submissive of dances. "I see you, and I see strength. I see stability. I see the rock that has stood in the center of the river and refused to break. I see the river that has run the length of the land, adapting where it must, but ever flowing, ever pushing.

"You are my love, my god, and I would take no other before you."

"Shareeda...you ease my spirit in ways that I should ease yours."

"I am your follower; is it not my duty to praise my god?"

"I would have it your pleasure, not your duty."

"Then let it be both." She smiled. "But of course, you could return the favor."

"I plan to. Tonight, I plan to pray to you for a change. Though, perhaps, not in the way that a god should ever pray to a mortal."

So, she was right. She turned on the cushions, making sure that she could face him properly, and her breasts brushed against his chest. There was barely a layer of silk between her and him, but it was still enough to offer a tease, a slight thing to be gotten rid of before they got to the pleasures that they had planned for one another. She reached up, cupping his chin to tilt his head to hers, to leave his lips in easy reach.

And then, she kissed him.

It had always required an accommodation between them for such things. He was taller, broader, and his lips were harder than the lips of the mammals that came to her tent. His mouth was long and his snout hard to play with, in comparison, and the idea of putting her tongue past those lips had never been feasible. Likewise, he could not pull her to him in the same way, for his face did not bend like that, and so, they were kept at a distance from each other.

But that didn't matter. It was still contact, and it still showed their love for one another as they led each other close, lips to lips, eyes closed to slits.

By the time that they split apart once more, they were both breathing heavily, their chests heaving and, at least in her case, warmer than she had been. She let her hand fall against his chest, and then his stomach, resting just over the loincloth that seemed ever so pointless now.

"Mmmph...you are as forward as ever, my beauty," Kenemon said, shaking his head. "I..."

"Yes, my lord?"

"I must have you. Tonight."

"Do you mean consummation, my beloved?" Shareeda asked with a teasing smile.

"I know we have waited -"

"I am as eager for it as you are, my love."

"..."

"And if I must show you, I shall. Give me your hand."

As soon as he offered his broad palm, she took it, gently pulling it down to the space between her legs. There was no need to slide much out of the way; she had come dressed for her hopes of this, and she would not be disappointed, she knew that. She guided his fingers between her thighs and under the simple wraps that fell from her shoulders, barely hiding anything, and nudged his fingers against her sex.

Of course, someone as experienced as her would not moan from mere contact, but she favored her god with a smile to let him know that she liked the feeling of his fingers there. The soft bumps of his scales, the odd feeling of such hard flesh against her, was a marked change from what she had felt before. But it was the fact that she was already damp with anticipation that she wanted him to feel, and it did not take him long to realize just how much she wanted this.

They had held off for so long, for various reasons that each respected. He had held off, at first, not wanting to sully his priestess with something so cheap, and not wanting her to be left alone if he lost interest. The alligator had thought that he would be like the other gods, playing with mortals rather than loving them, and had wished to hold back.

She, on the other hand, had known that her body was a treasure that anyone would want, and wished to ensure that it would be held back for the best moment to offer it. She had come to love Kenemon in their time together, love him in more ways than a mere priestess to a living god could, and she felt that the time had come to move past her inhibitions on the matter. Clearly, so had he.

He touched her, stroked her, and she let him hear the sounds of satisfaction, the soft whispers of her breath past her lips, the quiet moans of the evening that complimented the bubbling of the river just outside. She did not ride his hand, but rolled her hips to caress his fingers as they caressed her, giving him the taste of what was to come.

Finally, he pulled his hand back, looking down at the place where his scales had changed color from just how wet she was, and shook his head as if in disbelief. She took his hand once more, tilting it to kiss his palm, and looked up at him.

"This night will be a dream for me," she said.

"It will be real. Very real."

"And then I will be returned to The Burning Sands. I will be among them again, and this place will be as a dream, too sweet to exist alongside that world."

"You...could stay."

"I could, but then the world would lose you," she said, slowly patting his palm. "For a god to survive, he must be remembered. Did you not tell me that, all that time ago?"

"...I did."

"I will see you remembered. And when we can, I will be here. But for now..."

She shifted further, spreading her legs over one of his thighs, and sat there. She knew he could feel the heat of her sex, just as she could feel the tightness of his muscles, his power, against her. Shareeda rested her hands against his chest, leaning in and kissing under his chin once more.

"For now, then, let us consummate this, and give me a dream that may carry me through the days of harsh sun and desert heat. Let me have this to remember, so I may survive and come to you again."

"Shareeda...you may be a mortal, but you are a dream to me."

"You flatter me, my lord." She smiled. "Now...how may your priestess worship her god?"

"Let us undress, first...let me see your perfection unveiled."

"And I, my love, yours."

"Ah," Kenemon said, tapping her nose as he shook his head. "You first. You have praised me ceaselessly since you stepped into my tent. It is my turn to offer a reward to my priestess."

"As you ask, my love, my lord."

Shareeda stood up, holding her hands behind her head as she swayed to her feet. She could feel the weight of her curves shifting, her rump swaying beneath the thin layers of silk that covered her, the belt barely keeping them from flying up from her movement. Her breasts swayed from side to side, again, something barely covered, something that was not thick enough to hide her stiffening nipples from the alligator before her. She knew what she looked like, how beautiful she was, and she did not need the soft hiss of sucked-in breath or the barely-there scent of a man's scent to tell her that she had already captured her lover's eyes and heart once more.

It had happened months ago, merely upon seeing her from behind, and she had held his heart since. This? This was just the reconnection, the reminder of what they both knew was true.

She allowed her hands to slowly run down her sides, running from just beside her breasts to her waist, and from there to her thighs. In they curved, pressing the fabric between her legs to her groin, rubbing it against her before bringing them back out and up, up, up, tracing to the space beneath her breasts. Her fingers fanned out, almost groping herself were it not for the slowness of her movements and the more teasing way that she lifted them up, allowing the weight of her breasts to fall against her hands and leave grooves and depressions against the flesh.

"Mmm..."

It was a soft moan, a barely-there sound, but it was sufficient to stir her lover's hands. He reached for her, taking her in hand, and her belt slowly came free. She heard it hit the ground with a soft clatter, cast aside as nothing more than an unneeded garment, and her silks flowed freely around her hips. He ran his fingers under them, caressing her thighs, drawing her closer, and she let herself be pulled along the cushions. His face was nearly between her legs, but his hands reached higher, and she pulled her arms over her head to give him access.

His fingers were surprisingly deft and gentle for being so large and thick. They should have been clumsy, rough, the sort of claws of a beast to rake a woman and leave her scarred for the rest of her life, but he was not so urgent as that. She shivered as he worked his fingers against the knot of the sash and wrap around her neck and chest, teasing at it, all while staring at her with the utter adoration of one so smitten that they had lost their voice. She had seen it a number of times with the sons of merchants and traders that had yet to see the world, who had been given their first taste of its richness by coming to one of her performances, but to see it on the face of a god stirred her in an entirely different way.

As the lioness smiled at him, not quite indulgently, he slowly grinned in return. It was the same as always; the weeks apart always left him cautious, curious, wondering if he had been enough, if she would come again when he called, but once they were together, that anxiousness faded to eagerness. For but a moment, he looked almost impish, teasing her with his delays, or perhaps -

She felt it. The soft pressure of his power always caught her by surprise, as if the air around them was pulled tight in an invisible fist for a moment, only to be released again. At first, she didn't know what he had done, but as she looked down, he shifted his legs apart, and she saw.

The loincloth had been all but pointless before, but now, it was utterly ridiculous. The alligator's shaft grew, not just in firmness, but in length, spilling out from beneath the cloth and tossing it aside like one rising from their bed. Her jaw dropped at its length, its girth, greater than she had imagined, and greater than any signs that she had seen in the many times she had teased it up before.

For the first time, she realized what it would mean to bed a god, but rather than fear it, she eagerly looked forward to it.

The knot behind her shoulders finally came undone, and Shareeda let out a soft moan, her tail flicking and swaying behind her and her ears tilting upwards as her breasts were finally let free of their bindings. They fell forward into waiting, scaly hands, and Kenemon sighed in satisfaction as he took them into his grip.

"You are blessed, my love. So bountiful that only the hands of a god could hold you rightly."

"I am blessed indeed. My breasts fit your hands perfectly."

"They do...and I am blessed to touch them."

"Then touch them more, so our blessings may be equalized."

"Mmm, I shall...I shall."

And as he rolled his thumbs across her breasts, as her clothing fell to the floor in a slow, gentle way, she watched his shaft as it rose, and it grew. She knew that it would be a struggle for any woman to take it, and as it continued to grow, built by his power as much as his own inherent manhood, she measured it, comparing it to all that she had seen before. It surpassed them all, she already knew, but by how much?

So much. So very much.

She moaned for her god, letting him press her breasts together, squish them, tease them, and the pleasure from that stirred her down below. Each touch left her a little more eager, a little more wanting, and it took little for her thighs to start pressing together, grinding on each other in anticipation for his touch.

But it would not come yet. There were other things that must be done first.

As her breasts wobbled between his hands, jiggled up and down to the point where her nipples grew as hard as they had ever been before, Shareeda had to fight to keep her moans from getting too loud and disturbing the peace within the tent. She could huff, puff, yes, but she would keep herself quiet, at least until the moment came to truly unleash her passions. Yet, the feeling of his hands was something that she had fantasized over for weeks, waiting for the time when she would be summoned again to feel him against her, and the fact that they were finally doing this threatened her control.

Finally, he stopped growing, and his hands fell from her breasts. They fell to her chest once more, large and full, and just slightly sensitive from the manhandling that they'd just received. She panted softly as her lover looked up at her from his reclined position, smiling ever so slightly smugly.

"What...what is it?"

"I have never seen you quite like this...and it's refreshing."

"Ah...you shall see me like this...much more from now on."

"I would hope so...I would dearly hope so."

"How may -"

"I want you...on your back, this time."

"As you command, my lord."

She lowered herself once more, finding a collection of cushions that were not so spread out, and got as comfortable as she could. Ignoring the feeling of her juices rolling from her sex to her other hole, she laid her hands at her side as the alligator stood over her, this time. His feet slid against the cushions, sliding through gaps to settle properly on the floor, and he slowly lowered himself over her chest.

She stared up at her god as he stood over her, his sac finally having the chance to shine. As he looked down on her hands on his hips, it was impossible not to stare at his sac, wet and oiled with his excitement. Heavy, full, and drawn taut with time, they promised her a bounty impossible to conceive of. She licked her lips as he slowly lowered himself, her eyes passing back, briefly, to stare at the muscles of his thighs and his cheeks, before being drawn forward again. That mighty shaft stood up, a true spire of flesh, and the head dripped like the opening of a geyser on the verge of its greatest eruption. Bit by bit, he came closer, until she felt the heat of those swollen orbs against her chest, until the head of his shaft slid between her breasts. The head, so thick that her jaws trembled with an imagined ache to see it, rested against her lips, the scent of him clean and yet strong, like the rivers he presided over.

If he had put his full weight down, she would have been crushed, but he was gentle, if firm. His muscular rump rested just behind her breasts, and his shaft fell between them. The sheer size of it almost made her massive pair look small, and she giggled slightly under her breath at the comparison between the two.

"What?" Kenemon asked.

"Nothing. I am just...awestruck by this."

"It is...satisfactory, then?"

"More than."

"Then allow me to feed my lioness her meat."

He pressed down on the head of his cock, all while she gathered her arms together and squished her breasts around his shaft. He groaned almost immediately, a sound of surpassing loveliness to her ears, and she opened her mouth as he fed the head of his shaft to her.

It was damp, of course, damp with his juices and the saltiness there. She licked over the tip as he took his time to push forward, gradually filling her mouth, then her throat with the thick spire. It was thicker than she expected, but not quite unmanageable. Just enough to make her feel the strain in her jaw, and to make her work that little bit harder for him as the head slipped past her mouth and into her throat.

The first clench around the tip forced her to pay more attention to it, the sheer width of the thing forcing her to take a second to breathe around it, swallow, breathe, swallow. He waited for her, letting her get used to it, until she patted his hip. Then, he continued, giving her the chance to feel it, feel all of it in her mouth, her throat, slowly going further and further down.

It was never unbearable, for he himself could never be unbearable, but like navigating the rivers themselves, it was a challenge, and Shareeda rose to it. Every time that he thrust forward, every time that he slowly buried his cock down her throat, she got used to the feeling and took it a little deeper. Every time that he came closer to pushing her breasts back against her face to get more of his shaft buried inside of her, she swallowed for more, and encouraged him to keep going.

That was always the key. Men, mortal or god, always wanted to know that they were craved, that someone else wanted them as much as they desired the object of their affection. Without that return, without that nudge that they were welcome, they would never unlock their true sense of self in bed.

Swallow, thrust.

Swallow, thrust.

As he pushed between her breasts, as he held her there to enjoy the taste of his shaft and realize what would be inside of her in a short time, she could feel her need rising. Her nethers were so wet, her thighs damp and slick from the constant stimulation and imaginings running through her head. Her eyes closed to slits as she teased the underside of his cock with her tongue, as she clenched her throat around the impossible length that had filled her.

And yet, her attention continued to go down to her breasts, to the feeling of his great shaft between them, and how each thrust reminded her of their weight, heft, and size. The jiggle, the bounce, the everything that she felt kept her more aroused and needy than she expected, and she shivered when he reached for them again and displaced her hands.

A lesser man might have pinched her nipples, pulled on them to show his domination. Kenemon did not; instead, he squeezed, rubbed, teased them with the rougher palms of his hands, rubbing his scales against them, keeping her on edge. She shivered, swallowing, gulping whatever he had to offer, never quite tasting it from how far back it was, but knowing that she was taking his pleasure into her stomach.

And as he teased, she swore that they were growing, somehow. They felt heavier against her, that she covered more of his shaft with her breasts, and that the soft tit-flesh was getting more and more filling against his fingers. Was it true? She didn't know; she was so far into the moment that she could barely bear to look down anymore, but she felt it, and the feeling was more than sufficient.

"Shareeda..."

The way that he whispered her name sent a shiver down her spine. It was a tone of such devotion and wonder, want and need, that it was all but impossible for her to not feel wonderful upon hearing it. She rolled her head back against the cushions, sucking back as he pulled away from her.

The soft pop of his shaft leaving her mouth made her feel empty, her throat not quite sore, but feeling lovingly emptied. She wheezed as she caught her breath, rubbing her neck as he pulled back. She had a brief moment to see that full, taut sac beneath his shaft, so wet with her spit, and she chuckled as he gently spread her legs.

"Finally," the lioness said.

"Have I kept you waiting too long?"

"Nearly, but you have come through in the end, my lord."

"Then let me give you what you have waited for..."

"And allow me, my love, to do the same."

He pushed her legs up and back, not quite bending her in half, but keeping her well-spread as his shaft slid against the cushions. The head tapped her rump briefly, only to slide further up, sliding between the sopping-wet lips just between her thighs before pushing between them. It was a lovely sensation, and one that she had denied herself for far too long in their relationship. The promise that she'd made to herself to save her sex for him once they'd considered themselves 'together' had been difficult to keep at times, and her body craved the intimacy that they were about to have.

He looked down at her, she looked up at him, and she nodded. He needed no more than that.

It could have been slow, but she refused to let it take too long. Even as her god started to slide in, she lifted her legs, pressing her heels to his back and pushing him forward. He was not prepared, but he did not stop her; she knew he trusted her to know her own limits.

His shaft was so large that it almost hurt, but it brought so much pleasure with it that she could ignore the utter stretch that it demanded to take it within her. Even as she forced him to steal her breath away with that first thrust, she was eager for more, and she rolled her hips up against him, her legs all but wrapped around his hips.

"Keep going," she whispered.

"You are a true woman of desire, Shareeda."

"Indeed...and I require a god to satisfy it. So please...satisfy me."

He did not have to lean down to kiss her; with an alligator's body and that long snout, he merely needed to turn his head. Their lips met, and they shared a breath as he worked his way back out of her, his arms on either side keeping him from falling over her in the process.

In, out, in, out he went, taking his time while giving her most of what she needed. The sheer girth of his rod was enough to leave her knowing that she would never be satisfied by anyone else again as long as she lived, no matter their mortal size. He had given her a gift, a mark, that she had become the beloved of a god. And she would give him everything that he asked for, as she could not imagine her life without this bliss, without his touch, without his presence.

In, out, in, out, the soft squelch of his shaft parting her, the warmth of his tip going deeper than it should, the power of his godhood taking what pain she might have felt from their difference in size and turning it to nothing but pleasure. It all added into something that was so different and wonderful that she could scarcely conceive of how mortals made love without feeling completely dissatisfied. The touch of a god was something else entirely, something that could never, ever be matched by those that were so much less.

And yet, she had been chosen. Wanted. Craved by him.

She moaned as he filled her, sliding back against him as much as the cushions allowed, feeling her breasts rising and falling. More than once, they threatened to bounce up and smother her face, forcing her to keep one hand on them to hold them down and avoid a fate more embarrassing than any other. In, out, in, out, the feeling of him, the sensation of that stiff thing going so deep, surely she should see it, but she had grown so large -

Oh, she had grown. She could feel it now. Her breasts had swelled to match his passion as he filled her, and he grunted, huffed in passion against her cheek.

"Nnngh...you're so...tight...and..."

"For you...it has been saved - ah - for you!"

"Shareeda...my flower...my beauty..."

"My love..."

They could barely speak through the passion and pleasure of their coupling, and they were both close. Shareeda could feel him spasming inside of her, the tell-tale twitches of a man that was on the verge no different in a god than a mortal. Yet, for all her experience, it could not match up to someone like this. Not someone like him.

She rolled her hips to meet his thrusts, feeling that heavy sac against her rump every time that he bottomed out inside. She could hardly believe that she was taking the whole thing, her thoughts scattered by the pleasure of such fullness, her eyes rolled back in their sockets as she felt her own climax sneaking up on her, begging to be released as soon as she reached the peak. She gasped for breath, wishing that there was a way to hold him, but their difference in size made it too hard from this angle.

And yet, suddenly, he seized her. She yelped as he pulled her off the pillows, into his lap, and he fell over her. His head was outstretched against the pillows and she was all but crushed against his chest, and he...he was buried inside of her, so far that she swore that she could feel the tip inside of her all the way under her ribs as he emptied himself.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

It was so deep and so warm and so intense that she barely felt her own orgasm in contrast to it, as if liquid pleasure from him had replaced the familiar spasms of her own orgasm. It was so intense that she lost any sense of time, of reality, of anything but the warmth and smoothness of his body against hers, and the spilling fluid inside of her.

For once, the queen of the oasis was content to be pinned and held. For once, she allowed herself to be conquered.

#

"Kenemon..."

Her god looked up at her as she picked herself up from the pillows some time later. She looked out of the tent at the river, at the water that would have been a priceless bounty to her people, to the oasis, to all those that lived around it. The lioness hesitated, but pushed forward, looking to her right at her lord.

"Will you grant me a boon?"

"I will try, as ever."

"Grant my people water once again. Give them what they need to live."

"...Shareeda, do you remember what I told you, so long ago?"

"A god must be worshiped to survive. And I worship you, with all my heart and soul."

"And that keeps me alive. But you are but one. To give life to such land, I would need far more."

Shareeda shook her head. She had thought that it would not be so easy as just asking, but at the same time, it left a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach to know that such a thing was so far off. It had been months since becoming his priest, months to reach this point, and that goal was still so far off that it was almost impossible to imagine.

And yet...

She had a goal. And that would carry her, as it always had. For was she not Shareeda Ghanem, she who would rule the sands?

The lioness chuckled to herself, allowing her god to pull her into his embrace once more. It would take time to find a way forward, but sooner or later, someone would come to do more than see her body. When they did, they would leave with the words, and the water, with any luck, would one day flow once more.

The End

Summary: A dancer and a priestess is summoned to her god, and spends a night in wonderous company.

Tags: M/F, Gods, Alligator, Reptile, Lioness, Feline, Desert, Priestess, Dancer, Big Breasts, Bigger Breasts, Breast Growth, Oral, Blowjob, Titjob, Vaginal, Size Difference, Undressing, Romance, Orgasm, Cum,