“Ok, fine.” He thought for a second.“Why don’t you let me give you a massage?” It was a truly desperate move, but I let it slide.“Ok, but ...houlders only.” I said strictly. I sat on the floor with my legs folded like an Indian and he got behind me on his knees and started working my shoulders. As his hands slowly worked their magic, I felt my wanting grow. He wouldn’t have to wait much longer. My puss was starting to burn with anticipation and I was starting to loose control, but I wanted to see. According to the story I had read men were not allowed to participate in those ceremonies involving moon worship.While I ate my dinner I continued to study my findings, almost entranced with the glint and glimmer from the headdress of the small statue. Tracing with my eyes the carved lines and swirls of the headdress, I was deep in thought dreams are usually triggered by a prior memory possibly something I had seen or read somewhere. I suddenly became aware of wetness seeping though my pants.. More

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