Aphrodite

The goddess Aphrodite, Venus de Milo in the Louvre

The chapel tour: As I wrote in my entry for July 12th “At lunch on the day Himself fell ill, John asked if I would like to have a tour of the Abbey and while the Duke had shown me around briefly I was anxious to be in the company of the handsome budding archeologist who offered to “slake my fascination with the chapel and other subjects of mutual interest”.

That was several weeks ago when I was CD2 and newly menstrual and his comment caused such a rush of desire – my secondary libidinal peak is when I’m menstrual - that I became lightheaded and felt the intense pelvic engorgement of sudden arousal as my thong absorbed a gush of vaginal discharge. I thought for a moment that my diaphragm had displaced and I was leaking menstrual flow, but a quick glance down at my white shorts showed only a light pink stain from the tiny amount of flow coating the walls mixed with my natural arousal lube. I excused myself long enough to empty my diaphragm of the collected menstrual flow then clean and reinsert it. I washed my face in cold water to try to calm down, changed into darker clothes for our Abbey tour and reapplied my makeup. I suppose it was foolish of me to try and get away with wearing white shorts while menstrual, but I can usually pull it off successfully. It now seems apparent that I can’t when I’m around John.

The Venus temple encounter: It was after our extensive tour of the choir containing the side chapels – small temple alcoves actually, one for each of the goddesses; Venus, Diana, Minerva, Juno - that John took me in his arms and while nuzzling my neck whispered that he would like to “probe the depths of my desire” and I murmured my consent. Taking my hand he guided me back to the temple alcove that held the altar and once a statue of Venus, perhaps similar to the one in the Louvre in the photo at the top of this entry, in front of which is her superb mosaic. I had anticipated an intimate encounter and so had dressed for the occasion in black Wolford 50 denier Marino wool and Elastane tights, a black compression front-closure sports bra for quick access for nursing, black Gaynor hard shanked suede platform pointes and a beautiful oversized Barbour long sleeve turtleneck sweater of sage Marino wool with a waterproof lining that I wore as a tunic. John had cautioned me that the footing in the choir and temple alcoves area was treacherous on stones worn smooth over the centuries which is why I had intentionally worn suede tipped Gaynors for better traction and because wearing pointes show off my legs beautifully and give me more options during a sexual encounter.

The temperature in the temple of Venus must have been in the 50s, but I was panting with desire as I unzipped the fly of John’s heavy cords and gently helped him get his erection out. He asked if I wanted him in a condom, but I said no, that I was safe and wanted to feel him skin-on-skin and he smiled. He was already dripping the clear slippery pre-cum of full arousal. Men can get ready so quickly! Though, I’m sure we had both been thinking about how we would consummate our passion. I lifted my tunic and he rolled my tights down to mid thigh, fingered me and found me slippery wet with my labia engorged and parted. All he said was “Oh, my!” He had me turn around and bend over the stone altar on which offerings had been made to Venus more that eighteen- hundred years ago. I stepped on to pointe and spread my feet a la seconde so he could step between my legs and on my toes my hip height was more convenient for him to penetrate me. While bent over the altar I reached back and spread my labia and positioned his tip at the introitus of my vagina and murmured “push.” My command seemed to reverberate off the temple walls. He gripped my hips firmly and was gentle, as he slowly entered me. He filled me with a single glorious, gradual, relentless thrust during which I gasped and moaned. I took all 8 inches and a bit of him reveling in his thickness and the feeling of him pressing on my cervix through the latex membrane of my protection as he thrust into my anterior fornix. It was the most marvelous feeling! Of being complete, of two bodies joined into a single entity and then he began to slow stroke me and I sort of melted.

I think he gave me at least three extremely intense vaginal orgasms and one cervical orgasm during which I had some sort of out-of-body experience during which I could smell roses (a symbol of Aphrodite) and the Goddess blessed me and asked if I wanted children. I don’t remember my answer, or even if I gave her one. I know he finished inside me because I was draining his seed afterward. He said I seemed to be in a trance for a few minutes after I stopped moaning and gasping and as he kissed me I awoke. John gave me a cup of ice cold water from the spring and when my head was clear I wondered if at 40 I was getting too old for a libido as strong as mine or if I was out of shape. Now, having had more time to think about it I’ve been keeping up my training and eating a balanced diet and I wasn’t dehydrated and I had gotten over any jet-lag so it must have been the combination of a new and highly skilled lover and being made love to in a 1st century temple to Venus that had such psychological and physical impact on me. Even though the temple is 1st C Roman I have been left with the feeling that my mystical encounter was with the Greek Goddess Aphrodite which is why this entry bears her name.

Pre-betrothal ritual: As I was Kegeling out most of his seed, pulling up my tights and lowering my Barbour tunic he told me he had brought other women to the temple of Venus and all of them were freaked out by the place, except me. John said the temple visit was a ritual that the eldest male child of the Duke is required to perform with his women and that was begun when the Laird’s daughter first took his great, great, great grandfather to the temple to consummate their union. Ever since they became owners of the land the eldest sons have only married women with whom they had sex on the altar in the temple of Venus. I made some non committal comment like “Ohhh!”

I’m sure the Duke doesn’t think of me as a suitable breeding mate for his heir, possibly because of my background, but more likely, because of my age. Even if I wanted and could have children the chances of their having birth defects because of my age is much higher than if I was in my early 30s. So I’m almost certainly out of the running as a future Duchess as delightful as John, Marquis of M… is as a sex partner. I think it must be that I’m coveting the thing I can’t have as John is one of the few men I could see myself settling down with and to whom I could be faithful. But as I said I don’t think I’m seen as a suitable future Duchess so I’m sure I’ll never be asked.