Preview: Priestess, Pt. I (MF polyamory)

Preview: Priestess, Pt. I (MF polyamory)
Priestess: The Visitor's Wedding cover

Priestess: The Visitor’s Wedding

So Priestess, the grand finale of the Visitor’s Wedding series is almost finished!

Here’s the opening section, which catches up with what some of our friends from the earlier stories are up to, and introduces the least familiar of the Harris siblings, the eldest sister Danielle. Who shows is that sometimes the most conventional-seeming folks can be wildly unconventional in their own way. 😁

Holy Harlot: Priestess Sneak Peek #1

Danielle loved her brother and sister, truly, she did.

But their marriages? Well… Those she truly could not understand.

Not that Jessie loved Mario — he was incredibly sweet and cute, and made Jessie smile in a way that Danielle hadn’t seen her middle sister smile in… well, in a long, long time.

Or that Andy loved Lea, who, Danielle was overjoyed to see, was completely gaga over the youngest Harris in a way that made Danielle’s middle go all gooey.

No. It was that being in love with one person somehow wasn’t enough. That Andy and Lea were both just as in love with Sean, who was actually the one Andy was married to, when it came to that. That Jessie and her about-to-be husband welcomed Captain Olson — Sean, Andy, and Mario’s boss — into their bed if not every night, then just about. “So,” Danielle asked, doing her best to smile brightly. “Pat coming with you on the honeymoon?”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Jessie purred. “‘Course he is. Wouldn’t’ve given Mario time off if we didn’t invite him along, not that we wouldn’t’ve.” She shot Danielle a sly grin. “Why do you ask if you don’t want to know?”

“I want to know, because I love you. Even if I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, well, I love you too. And I do get it. I mean, it’s not like I understand how Sean and Andy and Lea manage it. Or, hell, Prior and Cherry and Sean’s sister Kirsten. I mean, they actually manage all to love each other. Me and Mario, we love each other. Pat’s just fun to have in bed.” Jessie ran her fingers through the veil in her lap, then shot Danielle a grin that told Danielle just what Jessie expected out of that night’s festivities. “And they treat me like a goddess.”

Danielle winced, and winced again when she heard Jessie chuckle. “Well, Jessie, I am happy for you.” Danielle glanced at her sister and managed a smile to match Jessie’s. “I’ll tell you this — one reason I’m glad this wedding’s in Atlanta instead of home: those six spend too much more time together around town, it’s going to be a mess. Jane Phillips over at the post office was telling me how cute she thinks those three couples are, always hanging out together: Andy and Lea, Cherry and Prior — and Sean and Kirsten. ‘Why, they almost look like brother and sister, isn’t that sweet!’ I thought I was going to die!”

Jessie stared at Danielle — and then snorted.

And that was that. The two sisters began to howl, laughing the way only sisters can laugh, until Danielle had to pull over to the side of the highway. They sat there — Danielle in her leftover black bridesmaid’s dress from Andy’s wedding, Jessie in her simple white sheath, the veil in her lap — and they both cackled until they wept.

They were still there twenty minutes later when a state trooper pulled up behind them on the shoulder of I-575.

He tapped on the window and Danielle lowered it.

The trooper was tan and chiseled, and in his shades, Danielle could see her own astonished, tear-smeared face. He leaned in and looked across at Jessie, who was still wailing. “Is there a problem, ladies?”

“Uh, no,” said Danielle, “no. My sister, it’s her wedding today, down in Atlanta, she’s marrying a fireman, like our brother, and we… we were just… thinking of all of the folks who… who won’t be there. And we were just a little… overwrought.”

The trooper — whose name badge read Amoronico — nodded solemnly. “Well, it was good that you pulled over. Are you going to be all right to drive? Is there someone you’d like to call?”

“No,” said Danielle, flicking Jessie’s hand with her finger to try to snap her out of it. “No. I’ll be fine. Thank you so much.”

“Oh! Shit!” gasped Jessie. “We’re going to be late!”

Danielle was about to smack her outright — you don’t tell a police officer you’re about to break the speed limit! — but the trooper peered down at Danielle, long enough that she was almost feeling like she might have had something on her dress, which was silly; it was a black dress, and okay, it was a little low cut, but — “When does the wedding start?” he asked.

“Um. 3:00.” Jessie was blowing her nose into one of little RJ’s butt wipes — a clean one, thank Jesus.

The trooper smiled at Jessie and then at Danielle. “Well, it’s a good thing I stopped, then. There’s two lanes closed down the road here — you’d have never made it in time on 575.” He looked down at his watch. “Where in Atlanta is the wedding?”

“Downtown,” said Jessie, fingers fussing at the veil, which she’d borrowed Danielle, “at my… my husband’s firehouse.” For a second, Danielle worried that Jessie was going to lose it again, but instead, she took a breath and shot out the address.

The cop smiled at Jessie, and then at Danielle. “How’d you like a police escort? I’m off the clock — just headed back in — and I’d be happy to get you there on time.”

Danielle gawked up at him until Jessie flicked Danielle’s hand and cooed, “Would you? Oh, thank you so much, officer. What would we have done without you?”

Blinking first at her sister and then up at the trooper, Danielle nodded. “Thank you, Officer… Uh.”

“Tony. Tony Amoronico.”

Jessie held out her hand. “I’m Jessie and this here is my sister Danielle.”

Tony — Officer Amoronico — flashed a brilliant smile, first at at Jessie and then at Danielle, then shook Jessie’s hand. No rings. “My pleasure. So follow me — I’ll take us off at 140 just a couple of miles down the road and then 19 straight in. Stay close. Okay?”

Again, Danielle nodded.

As he walked back to his cruiser, she found herself admiring the fit of his navy-blue uniform trousers.

Closing the window, Danielle found her sister staring wolfishly at her. “What, Jessie?”

Jessie raised her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. Then she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yeah, fine,” huffed Danielle. “Don’t matter, ‘cause I got one!”

“Hanging down between your big old cow tits. Maybe that was what he was staring at down there.”

“JESSIE!” Danielle grabbed at the chain that held her engagement and wedding rings; she’d taken them off while she was pregnant and hung them from the chain. She blushed as the blue police car pulled in front of her and then slowed. Shifting the car into drive and pulling out right behind Tony — Officer Amoronico — Danielle said, “Saw the Jenkins at the store yesterday. They said congratulations.” Booger’s parents had looked more like they were passing on funeral condolences, but she couldn’t blame them for that.

Jessie went back to fidgeting with the veil. “Liked them a hell of a lot more than their son.”

“Yeah,” sighed Danielle. Booger had never been Danielle’s idea of the ideal brother-in-law. “You know he’s seeing Joelle Danner, right?”

“Jo–?” Jessie gawked at Danielle and pushed her tits flat. “She’s, like, twelve!”

Sorry she’d mentioned it — she’d been avoiding saying anything for a week — Danielle shrugged. “She graduated from Blue Ridge High last June.”

“Okay, so she only looks twelve, Jesus, Christ. And she still can’t buy beer!” Jessie peered across the front seat. “Are you sure? I mean, you didn’t, like, hear about it from Joanie down at the car wash? She’s always making shit up.”

Danielle glanced over, then pulled off onto State 140 behind the cruiser. “Saw them at the drive-in last Friday. Was watching the flick –”

“What, the kiddie show?”

“No.” Danielle was not going to discuss–

Fifty Shades Darker?” cackled Jessie.

“Anyway,” said Danielle, trying to keep things on track, “they pulled in next to us about ten minutes into the flick. Couple of minutes later, the car’s rocking and her feet are pressed up against the window.”

“Bet he was finished before the windows even had a chance to get steamed up.”

“Why, yes, he was.” The sisters shared a nod of grim satisfaction.

They drove in silence, watching the skeletal maples whip by.

“So,” said Jessie, the smirk back in her voice, as they sailed past Hickory Flat’s lone traffic light, “did Robby enjoy watching Booger and Joelle bounce the old Buick?”

No one, not even Ma or Robby or Andy even, could make Danielle blush like her sister could. “JESSIE!”

DANIELLE!” Jessie laughed. “I seen your bedroom, Danielle; all those mirrors, don’t even try to tell me he don’t like to watch.”

“He likes to watch me,” Danielle said, squirming in the driver’s seat, clutching the steering wheel. “Jesus, Jessie.”

“Heh.” They rode on for a minute before Jessie continued, no laugh at all in her voice, “Mario likes to watch me, too.”

“Oh?” Danielle was still blushing, still feeling like she might throw up.

“Yeah.” Now Jessie’s tone had the same evil edge she’d used telling dirty jokes when she was twelve. “Likes to watch me… with Pat. Loves to watch me with Pat.”

“Oh.” Danielle was close enough to the police car that she could see the trooper’s dark eyes in the rear-view mirror.

Again, Jessie was silent, for a full two minutes. “Think Robby might like watching you… with Tony?”

“Jessie.” This wasn’t the schoolgirl squeal. This was the Serious Voice. The Ma Voice. The Don’t Mess With Me Voice.

Jessie held up her hands and was quiet.

Danielle had never talked with her siblings much about sex, besides demonstrating for both of them how to roll a condom on a cucumber, because that was just being a good big sister. She never talked to anyone about sex. She and Robby sure didn’t ever talk about sex, unless they were having it. He knew what she liked. She knew what he liked. And they both gave each other plenty of that.

She and Robby had a very satisfying sex life, thank you very much. They loved each other, and they were happy together, and they had a little baby together, and that was wonderful.

But Danielle knew that Jessie was right; Robby liked to imagine that the man he saw in the mirrors, the man whose dick his wife was sucking or was taking into her pussy was not his, but another man’s. For most of their marriage, that man had been faceless, anonymous — to Danielle, at least. They’d referred to him as her “hero.” But the previous summer, when Andy had brought Lea and Sean home for Prior and Cherry’s wedding, the Harris sisters had gotten all giggly about Sean, who they thought at the time was their brother’s single best friend. Really, it had been Jessie who’d gotten all hot and bothered about the hunky fireman. But Danielle had giggled along, because, goodness, the man was handsome, and polite, and funny, and had a bulge in his jeans…

And was, as it turned out, their brother’s lover and husband, as much as Lea was Andy’s wife.

But the first night, when they’d gotten back home and put little RJ to bed, they’d been making love — Danielle on her hands and knees, which she liked as much as Robby did. And Robby had given a name to Danielle’s “hero” — the nameless man he liked to pretend was fucking his wife: “You want Sean to fuck you harder, Dany?”

“Yes!” she’d moaned.

“Then ask. Say, ‘Sean, fuck me harder with that big old cock.’”

And she had.

Because Danielle, she liked that her husband took charge in the bedroom. She liked it a lot.

She had taken him to see Fifty Shades because the books made her nerves sing and her crotch flow, even if it embarrassed the hell out of her, and the reason Robby hadn’t noticed Booger and Joelle boffing for ninety seconds or so in the car next to them was that Danielle had been playing with herself in the passenger seat, her feat up on the dash, moaning Sean’s name.

She didn’t like the idea of being tied up or spanked. But she sure as hell liked the idea of being taken charge of. And Robby sure as hell did a wonderful job of that.

Their freshman English teacher, Ms. Bonner (the boys, of course, Robby included, all called her ‘Miss Boner’), had had them read Gilgamesh, just like every freshman English class at Blue Ridge High since time immemorial. Only where every other teacher left out the bit about the love priestess taming the wild man Enkidu by fucking him for six days and seven nights, she’d had them read the whole thing. And she’d explained how the Sumerians’ chief goddess, Ishtar, was the goddess of both war and love, and so her priestesses were holy harlots, bringing the goddess’s blessing to all who needed it. Love priestesses, giving of themselves. Owning their power — the power of the goddess.

And of course, the school board had promptly fired Ms. Bonner, which Danielle had always thought was a shame.

Because as thoughts of love and sex began to drift up into her mind and down into her crotch, that was how she saw herself: a love priestess, serving the goddess and spreading her blessing.

When she’d started dating Robby junior year, everyone had giggled about how she was going to crush him because she was so much bigger — but they didn’t know. Sure, she was five inches taller and maybe twenty pounds heavier at the time, but he was her wild man, her Enkidu, and she had given herself to him with joy and pleasure, bestowing the goddess’s blessing on them both.

Not that she really thought there was a goddess of love or anything. It was just an old story. But it was a story that made sense of how she felt.

When he’d joined up after graduation, the last night before he shipped out to Afghanistan, he’d made her promise two things: that she would see other men, and that, if she did anything with any of them, she would write and tell him everything that happened.

At first, she’d had no interest in doing as her absent boyfriend said. She loved him, and she knew she could manage two years without worshipping at the altar of his dick.

Then, about six months in, Doc Matson, the vet at the animal rescue hospital where she was working, started to court her. Very respectfully — he asked if she was seeing anyone, and when she said her boyfriend had left for the Army, and they’d agreed to put things on hold till he came back, he’d asked her on a regular date: dinner at a nice restaurant down in Chattanooga, then a movie (a James Bond, which had been fun), then (after she’d agreed) a downtown hotel room. By the time they’d arrived back at the room, she’d known she was going to sleep with a man other than Robby for the first time, and while it had scared her, it had excited her too.

Doc was sweet — a good kisser and Lord, the man’s hands… and lips…

He also went off like a roman candle the minute she opened his fly, spurting all over her hair.

At first, she hadn’t known what to do — Robby had always been able to hold back until he was ready, even when they first went out. But Doc had started to cry, to apologize, to say he hadn’t been with a woman since his Carolee had left with a man she’d met at a veterinary convention, that he was so sorry.

Then Danielle had known what she would need to do. She would be the love priestess, giving this sweet man the Goddess’s blessing. She had told him to lie back, to relax, and she had gently lavished on him all of the loving that he so clearly needed. Not just his dick, but his whole body. His whole being.

It had taken her an hour to get him hard again, but once she did, he’d slipped on a condom and made love to her — long, slow, satisfying… Not Robby, but very, very nice, and when he’d finally come again, they’d both cried. Happy tears this time.

Then he’d asked her to marry him, and she’d told him no, and that was that.

Forty-year-old Doc had married the other nineteen-year-old at the pet hospital, Georgie McCormick, the next spring. Danielle’d been a bridesmaid. They were very happily married with three kids.

She had written a letter telling Robby what had happened — without any of the details, because even though they’d agreed that this was going to be how it worked, she was still embarrassed that she’d slept around on him.

He’d written back, telling her not to be silly, to tell her all of the nuts and bolts. What had they done, how had it felt, what had it smelled and sounded like, what had she liked and what hadn’t she? She’d felt like she was back in Ms. Bonner’s class writing a “What I did over Christmas break” essay.

But he’d loved it.

And so when she’d started sleeping with Byron Jenson, who lived up on Cherokee Ridge near Ma and Pa, she’d written long, detailed, smutty letters about everything that they’d done, and everything that she wanted to do, and everything that she wanted Byron to do to her. And Robby had written back saying how much her letters turned him on, how they were the only thing keeping him alive.

She’d told Byron about her agreement with Robby, and at first he’d been excited that she’d been telling her ex about their exploits. But when it was almost time for Robby’s demobilization, Byron suddenly balked. He told her she had to stay with him. And as much as it was Danielle’s inclination to give her lover what he asked for, in the end she’d broken it off with him. He’d been angry, then sad, but had finally, tearfully thanked her, saying the year and a half they’d been together had been the best of his life.

He had married Kali Danner — Joelle’s aunt — with Danielle once more acting as bridesmaid, and they now had a joyous home with enough kids that Danielle had lost count. The love priestess had done her job again.

And when she arrived at Fort Benning to meet Robby as he got off the plane, she knew she had done the right thing — and that she would be happily doing it for the rest of her life with him.

Robby wasn’t as messed up by the war as some of the men she heard about. He attributed that to her, saying her letters and the knowledge of her love had kept him sane and relatively whole. Still, there was a shadow in his smile, but Danielle knew that she could help him with that.

She’d dragged him off to a motel just off base. The sound of recently re-united couples fucking filled the air as they entered their room.

They didn’t leave again for days. Six days and seven nights, in fact.

By the time they left, neither one of them was walking straight, and she had a urinary tract infection that took her weeks to get rid of, but she wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Because Robby was home, and he was alive, and he was whole. And the shadow in him had (mostly) lifted. Like Enkidu in the story, his love priestess had fucked the wild man out of him.

He’d proposed to her on the last night, and she’d accepted. They’d gotten married a month later, and she hadn’t thought about sleeping with anyone else since, except in Robby’s fantasies.

Jessie had been her bridesmaid.

They were whizzing through downtown Atlanta, traffic miraculously clearing for the state patrol car that was leading their way.

Danielle reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Nervous?”

Jessie blinked and looked at Danielle. Clearly she had been just as lost in thought. She smiled and shook her head, giving a return squeeze. “Nope. Not even a bit.”

“Good,” said Danielle as they pulled off the highway.

So, what do you think? Will Danielle get to live out her and Robby’s fantasy? And will it turn out the way she expects?


By the way, this story sparked an idea for a Visitor-related holiday story that will be out before the end of the year. Keep an eye out here and on Stillpoint/Eros!

It’s always the quiet ones

Danielle and Robby’s love-life is anything but conventional — and they’re looking for someone to join them

Priestess: The Visitor's Wedding cover

Priestess: The VIsitor’s Wedding

Danielle may not be in a threeway marriage like her brother Andy or their sister Jessie.

But Danielle and her husband Robby’s marriage has never been as conventional as it may have looked.

And now, on the night of Jessie’s wedding, Danielle and Robby have a chance to live out their oldest fantasy. For as long as they’ve been together, Robby has wanted to watch his wife with another man. And she has longed to give him that.

The wild conclusion to The Visitor’s Wedding, a series of sequels to The Visitor Has Company, this short story can be read on its own or as part of The Visitor Saga.

(MFM ménage. polyamory, voyeurism, hotwife. Adult readers only.)

The Visitor’s Wedding:

  1. Goddess (MFM interracial ménage)
  2. Handmaiden (FFM, FFF interracial bisexual ménage)
  3. Priestess (MFM ménage, voyeurism, polyamory, hotwife)

One thought on “Preview: Priestess, Pt. I (MF polyamory)

  1. Pingback: Preview #2: Priestess — The Hotel (MFM, voyeurism) | K.D West

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