Tamanna Bhatia

Jess hit the water with a splash, gasping as she surfaced and shaking the hair out of her face. She stood up in the shallow water, and water droplets glittered all over her in the pale glow; they trailed down her body and over her bare breasts. I slid into the pool in front of her, taking a hold of her hips immediately and pulling her towards me. The water was refreshingly cool, but Jess had my skin on fire. We kissed passionately, and her painted nails gripped my chest as her hips were pulled into mine. I spun us around, pressing Jess against the pool wall. Her foot stroked my leg under the water, her hands caressing my chest, while mine gripped her arse and our hips were meeting with small gyrations. Jess pushed me away, swimming across the pool breast-stroke. The irony was not lost on me. She rolled over, her chest breaking the water and shining in the light. It was glorious. She motioned for me to follow and I gave chase. She continued on her back, smiling to see me ogling her. Then she would place the sheepskin in front of the mirror, and line up the fifteen needles in their packages next to it on the left, and the box of alcohol wipes on the right. She would turn the lights down low, light a dozen large candles, and place them in a circle around her. Next she'd light a large cone of incense to perfume the air and sanctify the instruments of her torture. Then a glass of wine and a few tokes off a joint.When the effects of the wine and the pot seeped over her, she would dangle her breasts over the burning incense to perfume them, letting them swing in the smoke. Then she would put the incense burner on the floor in front of the mirror and squat over it, parting the lips so that her pussy would be similarly perfumed. In this way, she would consecrate the female parts of her body to the ritual she performed.She was not a believer in any gods but the gods of her private pain, but her strict Catholic upbringing, with its memories of priests swinging the censers.
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