Thread: The Tribe of Lithia and Its People (Blood Red Roan x GoldenGateSon)

Nivea indulged herself, taking in his lingering scent. Even now she could smell his musk and some small part of her was almost - disappointed he hadn't taken up the second option. To let him take her there for all to see, to take him in as he spent himself, and came into manhood. But this ceremony was for him and he had made his decision. The priestesses would honor it without question and do anything within their power to aid him. The hand at his shoulder trailed downwards after she'd shown him the presented women. She hadn't even needed to look down any longer after having already seen his full length when she'd first approached. Fingers gently stretched out as her hand slid down the toned muscles of the young man's stomach before just so lightly ghosting over the flesh of his length. Only just grazing his flesh for a moment before she became notably more committed and moved to wrap her hand around his length as best she could manage with its girth. Her eyes were closed lightly and her breathing growing slightly heavier as she listened to him talk, lazily stroking his length, and occasionally reaching out to toy with the head of his length. Had she still been as young and as relatively inexperienced as her daughter was now, then perhaps desires at the back of her mind would have taken over more of her actions, and she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself as well. The scent of Valeer's body and the oils his mothers and aunts and sisters had prepared him with. The feel of his growing and developing muscles against her or how it felt when her nipples pressed and dug against his skin - to envision him atop her, her legs spread like her goddess to welcome him as he pushed himself inside her. To feel the warmth of his first seed as he filled her. Or to watch her daughter atop him, taking him in as he filled her to the very brim and left her starry-eyed and spent once he'd finished with her. Oh yes, a lesser experienced Priestess would have quaked at the thought of his pale skin and lean form controlling and taking she and her daughter as the desire took him. But instead all that betrayed Nivea was the pleased, deep-throated hum she gave out at his words before finally releasing his length for the time being. She reached out with one hand over his shoulder again and motioned to her daughter with curling fingers, Reva, come dear. Let us take him to the altar. As Reva rose to stand, she ran her hands through her air, and the lift of her arms combined with the way she arched her back for the first few steps meant she was not-so-subtlely doing her best to present her own full breasts to him. Though not as large as her mother's, it was obvious by how supple they appeared that there was no shortage of milk should he choose to feed from her. When her hands finally dropped to her sides, she stepped with a wide sway to her hips, and she closed the distance to a far greater degree than her mother had. Her eyes downcast, partly to seek his hands as she reached out to take one of his hands in both of her's before barely glancing up at him with cheeks stained by the rose color of a light blush. She brought the hand close to her chest for a moment, If you would follow me, young hunter? She turned her back to him, still holding him by the hand, and with Nivea placing hands on his shoulders the two began walking. Guiding him through the central chamber and, save for needing to go around the central fountain, almost directly to the other side of the chamber. They had to pass through two doorways, with only a short hall in between that on any other day would have held those waiting to worship on the altar with a particular temple whore. But now they were empty in preparation for this event. The doorways themselves were masked by hanging lines that held beautifully hand-carved polished bone from animals, jewels, and were kept from swinging idly by heavy pearl spheres at the bottom of each. The waiting area was filled with candles that cast a dim glow as the late evening meant little to no sunlight came in through the openings higher up. Under the second chords of the second doorway was the light smoke that hung low to the floor of especially chosen incense that scented the air with the same sort of scents that Reva and Nivea had been bathed in. Scents of summer and spring, of the open air. And once through that final entryway, they were in a room similar in shape to the main chamber though much smaller by measure. Candles encircling it, decorations of jewels and precious metals hung from the ceilings. Pelts that full-fledged hunters of Valeer's own family and others of the tribe had spent the last week gathering. And in the center of it all up a pair of steps leading to a raised platform was the altar of worship. The furs of might beasts of the woodlands would be soft under-foot, resting under a large and pillowy cushion - feathers and cotton tucked in carefully sewn cloth. Pillows covered at least a quarter of the alter, dark purples and reds and greens. With perfectly white sheets of satin laid out across the rest of it. The whole of it was inviting to the eye and beckoned for the young man to crawl atop it all with its own charms and appeal. Reva released his hand and was the first onto the altar, moving to crawl across it on her hands and knees as she stretched herself out. Nivea released her hold on Valeer's shoulders and slipped past him - almost seeming to make sure to press her chest tightly against his back until she could no longer do so. And she followed behind her daughter in short order. And in moments the two had already become a slightly tangled collection of limbs with the younger woman pressing her head to her mother's chest and hands possessively on the small of her back. Though with how they had positioned themselves, there was just enough space that Valeer could easily fit between them. Though somebody sensitive about personal space would have balked at the accomodations, leaving no room for him if he did so, to move without an errant hand comign to rest on a full and supple breast, wide child-bearing hips, or in the small of a back. Nivea extended a hand, finger sliding across the sheets of satin, with the dark skin of she and her daughter against such white sheets seeming to almost demand that all attention be focused on their bodies rather than the bed, Would you join us?