Author: Sterling
Title: God Is Horny
Summary: When God despairs of determining the meaning of his
life, he takes to exploring the world through the form of the
human male. He develops a taste for sex, a taste he satisfies by
a human man created for each sexual encounter -- millions at a
time. His taste grows to an obsession, and he grows ever more
assertive in getting the pussy he craves.
Keywords: MF Mf mf Mg mg bg gi boy cons non-cons pedo lolita reluc
rape coer het ScFi humor ESP group harem 1st oral pett preg

NOTICE:  This story contains explicit sex.
 
First posted 10/21/10
 
I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.
 
I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
/files/Authors/Sterling/
 
You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire text
unchanged,
including this notice.  If you tell me where you have re-posted
it, I can enjoy
knowing it is appreciated and perhaps enjoy the feedback the
story gets
where you re-post it.
 
Sterling
 
And now, our feature presentation.  Enjoy!
 
==============================
God Is Horny

I am God. Down on your knees and pray! Sin not lest I smite thee!
Taketh not My name in vain!
 
Yeah, right. Chill out. I am God, but it's not what you think.
Let me tell you a little about myself.
 
I'm not all powerful -- but I can do a great deal. I'm not all
knowing -- I know some things but not others. And am I all good?
That is an excellent question, and I would give anything to know
the answer.
 
I mostly exist in the Godspace dimension. It has a geography
identical to "real" space, it's just a place hidden from you guys
where I can move around and do cool God things.

My awareness began on Earth just as the place was cooling down.
Probably someone or something sent me, but I haven't the foggiest
idea who or why.
 
I'm a local kind of God. Can't do a thing with Mars or Venus, and
can't tell what's going on there any more than your astronomers
can. I can move a bit of dust around on the moon if I had to, but
it would be very tiring. But in this little sphere of the Earth's
crust, up into satellite orbits and down to the deepest mines and
ocean trenches -- there I can do things. I can move a mountain,
part the seas, even nudge a tectonic plate a little bit -- but
they are exhausting! As objects get smaller, it gets easier. I
can move around something the size of a boulder with no problem,
even a few thousand at a time. If you go down to the level of
things the size of people, I can mess with billions at once
without breaking a sweat. I could squash every human in an
instant. I can change trillions of things at a time.
 
But as the story begins, I had never used that power. So all the
religions who thought they'd seen the hand of God revealed on
Earth were wrong. God said nothing to Moses, and Jesus was just a
man.  Spirits do not reside in trees or rocks, and there is no
reincarnation.
 
Religions come from people's heads, and they are interesting, but
there was no God who influences things on Earth. Agnostics were
closest to understanding reality.
 
That's what I can do. What do I know? I can be everywhere at once
in Godspace, observing from billions of perspectives. So over the
millions of years I have been watching Earth, I have collected a
huge hunk of data to work with.
 
Understanding natural phenomena is pretty straightforward. What
goes on in the minds of creatures is less clear, and of course
the more complex the brain, the harder it is. I started paying
close attention when the apes showed, then I learned from all the
hominid forms.  Neanderthals were cool, but you guys killed them
off.
 
You humans are by far the most fascinating creatures. I've read
every word that's ever been written, and heard every word that
has been spoken.  With all that, I'm a pretty good student of
human nature. But I can't read anyone's thoughts and I don't know
for sure what anyone is going to do next. Nor could I control
anyone with any subtlety. I could restrain them or threaten them
with pain, but I can't change someone's thoughts just by messing
with some neurons. The patterns are just too small and too
incredibly complicated.
 
So I can do a great deal, but didn't used to, and I know a great
deal, but not everything.
 
What I don't know is what I *should* do or why.
 
I've considered looking at human purposes and seeing if I can
learn from them. You humans have come up with your own sense of
morality that you almost all agree on. There is far less
agreement on a purpose, and most people know that a satisfactory
answer is impossible. People latch on to some purpose: being
fruitful and multiplying, religion, the love of nature, the love
of fellow humans, great art, even just maximizing pleasure. Then
they stop thinking about it.
 
But even if humans had found a purpose, it would have been a
result of evolution by natural selection. That is arbitrary and
unsatisfying. It would not have any direct application to me.
 
So I have collected massive quantities of data and tried to make
sense out of it -- something kind of like meditation.
 
I said earlier that I never changed anything on Earth. Here's
why: Studying the evolving Earth was my biggest hope for grasping
my purpose. I'd always believed that as soon as I changed it in
any way, it would be contaminated with my ignorant impulses and
could no longer help me.
 
Religions who imagine a personal God are correct in one respect:
I watch everything people do, and I listen to prayers. But I
never answered any of them because it would have contaminated my
experiment.
 
Most thoughtful believers have asked themselves at one time or
another how I could allow so much suffering. The main reason was
my determination not to contaminate anything. But did I gnash my
teeth, itching to intervene? No. I understand yearnings to some
extent -- I want to know the purpose of my existence, and I
understand boredom. But I deliberately stayed aloof from the
human viewpoint. It is just something that evolved in largely
arbitrary fashion. I was looking for a real purpose beyond the
whims of chance in human evolution -- I am God, after all. 
Getting all wrapped up with preventing suffering would have been
identifying too much with human purposes.  It was also clear to
me that if I eliminated suffering and strife, Earth would become
a very dull place.
 
In any case, I had been meditating and cogitating for these
millions of years, never disturbing a hair on Earth. Was I as God
supposed to find a higher God? Find transcendent truth of the
sort you seek in your meditation? I thought that if I considered
the matter hard enough the truth would come to me. No luck.
 
------------------------
 
Human history and prehistory are full of cycles. An ice age came
and went. Civilizations were born, flourished, and then died.
First there was famine and pestilence and the population
plummeted. Then in better times the happy and optimistic people
filled the world once more. The cycle repeated itself.
 
I became disturbed when I saw another trend. Humans had triggered
a permanent decline that would last forever.  The Earth would
never recover from it, not in thousands of years or even
millions. Non-renewable resources were being consumed at a rate
sure to lead to scarcity. Natural habitat was being destroyed,
causing a massive and accelerating loss of biodiversity. This was
all happening during a cycle of peace and plenty.  It would
become much worse when prosperity turned to severe hardship.
 
Humans were over the hill! If the human condition had reached its
peak of complexity and was headed downhill, what hope did I have
that my experiment would teach me what I wanted to know? It was
enough to make a deity turn to drink.
 
-------------------------
 
Feeling that my hands-off approach was never going to get me
anywhere, I thought of alternatives. The most interesting choice
open to me was to experience reality as you humans experience it.
If I couldn't figure out the purpose of my existence, perhaps I
could at least feel less lonely by letting myself experience life
as you do. I would at least learn something new, and perhaps
something unexpected would happen.
 
My first intervention in the world, my first contamination since
the dawn of time, was to move a grain of sand over by a
millimeter. I paused for a day or so to celebrate -- and mourn.
But once that barrier was broken, I saw no further need to
proceed gradually.
 
So I incarnated myself in real space as a human -- I created a
human out of material from Godspace and hooked myself up to him.
For the first time, I felt pressures within my body, heard
sounds, saw colors, felt air move in and out of my lungs. I could
move the body around with its own muscles without any further
intervention from Godspace. I held my breath and felt the
compulsion to take another breath. I dug my fingernails into my
forearm to feel the pain. I drank water when I was thirsty and
felt the relief. It wasn't that hard to master a body.
 
I then turned to the uniquely human -- the achievements of the
human mind and imagination.
 
I didn't satisfy myself with a single body. To sample a large
chunk of classical music I made thousands of human bodies. I
plopped them down on living room sofas throughout the world when
the residents were away so I could listen to the records all at
once. I attended ballet and theater and concerts in hundreds of
cities at once. Other thousands of bodies traipsed through the
art galleries, twirled with the sufis, chanted, and received
communion. No one thought anything of my presence, as I
incarnated myself as an ordinary-looking person within whatever
culture I was visiting.
 
It wasn't very rewarding. Religion was useless as I knew it was
wrong and that I myself was the closest thing to the God that
these misguided people worshiped. Painting, sculpture, theater,
dance, classical music -- none moved me. I had been experiencing
them from the outside for millenia, and the pleasure I as a human
felt was mediated by inferior intellect.  It paled in comparison
to my own fuller understanding.  I had examined every sketch or
doodle a human had made, heard every warble that sprang from the
human voice, and seen every skip and hop.
 
What drew my attention was not the higher pleasures, but the
lower. I had known for ages just what the differences were
between making a Burgundy and a Bourdeaux. What I had not known
was how that was experienced by the people drinking them.
 
Starting with oatmeal, hamburgers, and potato chips, I worked my
way up to kalamata olives, lobster, tarragon, truffles, and prime
beef -- and the countless ways the flavors can be blended. I
sampled hundreds of varieties of dark chocolate, hundreds of
coffees, thousands of wines. The sensations were varied and
interesting. I enjoyed them a lot.
 
What moved me most, however, was sex.
 
For some reason, I was never all that comfortable in a female
body.  When I tried to investigate sexuality as a female,
something profound didn't resonate right. Perhaps whoever made me
had made me fundamentally male, and if so that was a tiny hint
about my nature that my millions of years of meditation never
revealed.
 
But male sexuality -- that was something else. I stroked my penis
and it got hard, something I had observed countless billions of
times. But this time I knew what it felt like inside. I felt the
pleasure of each stroke, and never had imagined just how
pleasurable an orgasm could be at the moment the semen spurted
forth.
 
Countless times I had seen how men watched women and girls and
the pornographic representations of them. I had seen how the men
ignored their welfare and made fools of themselves in search of
sex. Now I experienced firsthand the power of those urges. I
masturbated to a wide variety of sexual stimuli.  I climaxed
watching tens of thousands of porn videos. I jerked off to the
images of girls and women I had just seen in my travels. It was
even easy enough for me to find places to materialize where I
could see a naked girl without being observed. Watching them
masturbate was very exciting. I didn't restrict myself to single
individuals: I could gauge my own reaction to watching men having
sex with women, men with men, women with women.
 
But I wanted more than watching others and pleasuring myself.  I
wanted to touch.
 
---------------------
 
A gentle breeze billowed the gauzy white curtain now and then,
and the full moon shone through to illuminate Carol. She was the
epitome of beauty. Long golden hair, blue eyes, shapely body. As
she lay in bed I could see her breasts rise and fall lightly
under her nightgown. She was 23 and had recently dumped her
boyfriend. She thought it was a good move for her, and I agreed,
knowing her values and the probable future. The bad part was that
she was very horny. A good part of the relationship had been the
sex, usually twice a day. Here she was, a week on, and there was
no one to caress her. She fondled herself, but loneliness
inhibited her and made her unable to achieve the release of
orgasm. She had fallen asleep with her nightgown bunched up at
her waist and her panties down.  Her hand lay limp between her
legs.
 
I started with a small, simple tweak to her brain from Godspace
to keep her asleep. I sat on the bed, the weight of my body
depressing the mattress. I leaned over and touched my lips to
hers, and found my first kiss electrifying. My cock surged to
full hardness within seconds.  Her feminine nature as perceived
by the body I was using resonated right back to me in Godspace.
My hands were not troubled by her nightgown, because I simply
ripped it by a direct intervention from Godspace, and would as
simply mend the tear seamlessly when I was done. My fingers
lazily glided over her silky breasts, and her nipples soon stuck
out. Then I brought my hand down between her legs, gliding
between smooth thighs to her hairy but soft pussy. After letting
my hand luxuriate in the wetness of it all, I focused on her clit
while snuggling against her and whispering in her ear. She moaned
and strained in her sleep, then I felt her body convulse with the
release she had been craving. I think her unconscious knew she
was with a man and that it was time for the sexual release she
had been unable to achieve by herself.
 
I was surprised at how tempted I was to mount her and thrust my
cock inside her, but that would have been too much, too soon. I
made the body I had created disappear and let my sexual desire
slacken.
 
I thought all the issues through in the first second or so after
that experience and reached a conclusion, but made myself wait. I
had been meditating on humans for millenia -- why not take a
little longer? I gave it 24 hours.
 
On my return I didn't just part Carol's nightgown.  I simply
stripped her from Godspace and gave my body free rein. I mounted
her, thrust, and felt for the first time the ecstasy of a vagina
enveloping my penis and offering its firm caress. I came within
seconds -- filling her pussy with my sperm. The pleasure was
magnificent, as was the sense of rightness -- as if *this* was my
purpose. But what a ridiculous idea! How soon had my God nature
been contaminated by the animal lust of the human male! I lay on
soft Carol, taking in her feminine smell and the gentle rise of
her chest. When I had had my fill I disappeared, then from
Godspace I covered my tracks. I made my semen disappear, mopped
up her excess moisture, and made her nightgown appear around her
just as it had been before.
 
It felt so good and right that I made a hundred thousand bodies
appear all over the world where attractive women slept alone and
were hungry for sex. From skinny to fat, from large-breasted to
those with flat chests, from teenagers up through a few women in
their 50s, all races and stations of life: I found the pussy of
each one and urgently intruded my cock to my great satisfaction.
I arranged for thirty thousand of my bodies to come in one
simultaneous orgasm. It felt fantastic! The bodies I had created
disappeared on a varying timetable, lingering more in comfortable
surroundings with the truly gorgeous. The bodies disappeared, but
the longing and excitement and pleasure of consummation of each
of them returned to please my God mind.
 
For weeks I was awash in pleasure.  But I tired of making love to
sleeping girls. I knew one element of the true sex act was having
a girl know she was receiving a man and responding, even begging
for more.  I wanted to make myself known.
 
-------------------------
 
Becky sat at the bar with her Michelob, eager to see who might
come along. A couple of losers tried graceless opening lines, and
she deftly turned them away. One of the disadvantages of being
attractive was unwelcome attention, but it was outweighed by the
larger pool of men she had to choose from.
 
The man took her breath away as soon as he entered. She tried to
be open to men without paying so much attention to their physical
appearance, but it was hard to avoid. He had a large bald spot on
top, which is a turn off to a lot of women, but her daddy was
bald. Being bald was an extra little plus to her, not a minus.
 
The man sat on a bar stool and ordered a brew. He scanned the
crowd and his eyes rested on a few of the other attractive women
before fixing on her. She looked down. Although it was
involuntary, she knew it was a sign of attraction. When she
looked up again she saw him sitting calmly, glancing at the ball
game on the TV up over the bar. Then as she watched, he stood and
looked at her as he approached slowly, with confidence.
 
"Hi, I'm Cliff."

"I'm Becky."

"You're very attractive," he said as he sat.

She liked that. Nothing fancy, no pretense. That was all he knew
about her, and that was all he said.
 
She couldn't believe what came out of her mouth next: "You're
pretty handsome yourself."
 
Cliff smiled. He realized it was an unusual comment, but he
wasn't going to make her feel bad about it. "My girlfriend and I
parted ways about two months ago. It's taken me a while to get
over it, but here I am, my fourth day of seeing who else might be
out there."

She realized that with a lot of men, the recency of his
availability might be an exaggeration. But she believed Cliff.

"You want to know my basics?  I've never been married, and I'm
not a high-powered anything. I'm a middle manager, with three
people working for me."

"Me, I'm... Single, waitress at Orlay's." If Cliff was local, he
would know that the entrees at Orlay's ran around $30. "Looking
for Mr. Right." She thought she'd keep it simple too.
 
He looked into her eyes, and while she tried to hold his gaze,
she kept looking down and blushing.
 
"I don't know if I'm Mr. Right," he said, "but I'd like to get to
know you better. I'd like to get out of here now. Is your place
OK?"
 
"Yes," she said.
 
And that was all there was to it.
 
He was so hot and so straightforward in his talk. He was also
bald. She could barely wait to get him into her panties. She knew
he could sense that, and he didn't waste any time on
preliminaries either.
 
He kissed her for maybe thirty seconds as they stood in the
bedroom. His hands wandered over her back and shoulders, down her
flanks and to her butt.
 
She broke the kiss and started working on his buttons, while he
worked on hers. She raised her arms so he could take her blouse
off, revealing the light blue lacy bra beneath. Although her
breasts weren't especially large, most men thought they were
appealing, and from his hungry smile she could tell he agreed.
She helped him out of his dress shirt and T-shirt and went
straight to his trousers. He unzipped her skirt and set to work
rolling her pantyhose down her legs. In record time they stood
facing each other with nothing on but briefs and panties. His
erection was plainly visible. With a questioning look, she pulled
down his briefs and knelt, looking to see if he objected. She
took his cock in her mouth and used her considerable experience
to get him moaning.
 
But within a minute he lifted her head gently and led her to the
bed. They kissed, but his lips were all over the rest of her too:
ears, neck, breasts, and stomach. She was a little disappointed
he didn't head farther down to her pussy, but he was excellent
with his fingers -- exquisite, in fact. She gave him That Look
that meant she was ready, and he smiled.
 
"Let me get a condom," he said.
 
"Are you clean?" she asked. "I'm on the pill." She wasn't, but
she thought he really might be Mr. Right and was eager to make
this special for him.
 
"Yes, very clean," he said with an excited smile. With that he
was on top of her, cock headed for the place she so desperately
wanted it.

She steeled herself for the common problem:  her pussy was kind
of short, and it hurt when a guy went too deep.  Would she tell
him not to go in too far? She wanted it to be special for him,
but there was no way around that!  But as his organ slid into her
deliciously she felt their pubic bones bump.  He hadn't hit the
back! Apparently he had a short cock to match her short pussy.
But he was good and thick, which she loved.
 
Ordinarily she would have suggested she have some time on top,
because that was how she came best, but she wasn't going to.
She'd fake an orgasm if necessary, but she would do absolutely
anything he wanted and make no demands of her own.
 
To her surprise, his rhythm and depth were perfect, and she was
moved by his own sweet but intense pleasure. She lay flat on her
back, barely moving, and this man was going to take her there!
Her immensely pleasurable release made her gasp and seize him
with strong contractions. He didn't come with her, and didn't
take her orgasm as a signal to hurry up and finish himself. He
slowed his rhythm and smiled at her pleasure before revving up
again in earnest. What a sweet man! She then followed his hard
passion, rooting for him to find it fantastic. She was waiting to
squeeze his cock at just the right moment as he was almost at
climax, something she had learned men love.  But her own pleasure
carried her urgently, and she found herself squeezing in response
to her own unpredictable pleasure. He finally let go with a
gigantic moan and a torrent of urgent strokes that sent her over
the edge again, squeezing frantically. She had never had two
orgasms during sex before, and they were mind-blowers. She
faintly felt his twitches as he shot his load deep inside her --
and with no condom on, she got to keep it all! That sent a shiver
of excitement through her.
 
They lay together in a pleasant afterglow, and after they caught
their breath they chatted. She dreaded the moment he would
announce he had to go; some men wouldn't spend the night.  But
she sensed he would, and she wasn't disappointed. After five
minutes she began idly stroking his flaccid cock, and it
responded. She was a little sore from their energetic first
rutting, but this needed to be special for him. She asked if he
wanted anything different, like maybe from the rear, and he did.
He fucked her that way with equal enthusiasm. She didn't come
again, but that was just fine.
 
She woke a number of times during the night to admire his body
and his handsome face as it lay slack and vulnerable in sleep.
She awoke before he did and put on the silky red nightgown she
kept for special occasions, then crept quietly to the kitchen.
After brewing fresh coffee she thought about what she could make
him that was memorable. A mushroom and cheese omelette, she
decided.  She could open that jar of home-made strawberry
preserves she had been saving for a year and serve it on toast.
She got everything assembled and crept back to the bedroom. He
opened a sleepy eye and smiled at her.
 
"I've got a surprise for you!" she said. "Just wait here two
minutes, OK?"
 
"I'll be right back from the john," he said.
 
Becky hurried back to the kitchen, determined to make the finest
omelette of her life. It was very close to it, and she eagerly
took the tray in to serve him.
 
"This is really delicious!" he said, savoring each bite.
 
She sat on the bed seductively as he ate -- nothing too obvious,
but some thigh and breast showed.
 
He handed her the tray and she saw his cock at attention. After
she put the tray aside, he lay her on her back and slid his hand
once up the inside of her thighs, then abruptly turned over on
her and slid in to her pussy, which was not exactly dry but not
too wet either. After a mere ten seconds of sharp thrusts he
came, spewing his cum into her innards once more.
 
He pulled out and without even looking at her he started
dressing. This wasn't the ending for their interlude that she had
in mind, but the first part had been fantastic.  Maybe his mind
was on his job or something.
 
He took down her cell number, said, "I'll call you," and gave her
an absent-minded kiss.
 
For days afterward, every time her cell rang her heart pounded.
Days turned into weeks, and he never called. It had been just
another one-night stand.

--------------------
 
I had known everything about Becky, of course, including her
father's baldness and her appreciation for straightforward,
unpretentious men. I had observed the sizes of the dozen erect
cocks that had disappeared up her pussy and had noticed her
problem with sensitivity when a cock bottomed out in her. I had
fashioned a short, thick cock just for her. I had even seen the
sorts of motion men used to make her come on those rare occasions
she had while on her back.
 
I had made myself her perfect lover. But only for one night.
 
I should mention that I couldn't create a full person out of
Godspace and keep him there indefinitely. I couldn't simply make
millions of Mr. Rights into real people to live happily ever
after. For the most part, what is created from Godspace has to
come back to Godspace before too long. A couple days is the limit
for something as complex as a human being.

I created tens of thousands of handsome young men to frequent
bars, tailoring each man to the mark I had in mind based on
knowing everything about her past. Ten percent of the time I
couldn't get the girl into bed -- remember that I can't predict
anyone's behavior with certainty. I showed each of the others a
fantastic time. I liked being a good lover to them, and I
luxuriated in my own lust so completely fulfilled.
 
Bars were a good source of women, but not the only one.  I also
made bodies to wander through small towns and rural areas. They
are full of teenage girls and single young women yearning for the
right man to come along.
 
Maria's knees grew weak following me to some bushes behind the
shed. She gasped and moaned at my kisses. The lightest touch to
the front of her dress at the right spot got her to ditch her
panties, lie on the carpet of leaves and expose her hungry
privates. I arranged through Godspace to enhance her lubrication,
and within seconds I was down on her, lustfully taking her
virginity. As a rule I used careful snips from Godspace to remove
the obstacle of any virgin's hymen; I wanted my girls to enjoy
their experience fully, even the first time.
 
Kate was walking in the woods and was astounded to meet the
handsome stranger. Her fantasy was being ravaged and I was happy
to oblige. I shoved her against the tree trunk, found her wet
pussy easily enough, and as the tree trunk scraped against her
back, I rammed my cock up inside her. In her case I ripped her
cherry on the way in, just as she wanted. She got about 30
seconds of urgent fucking and a dose of cum. For weeks and months
she wandered the woods hoping the handsome stranger would
return.  He never did.
 
Ivana let Fyodor fuck her regularly in hopes of conceiving a
child. She had married him because he was the best match she had
been able to find.  But the mysterious stranger came to the door
while Fyodor was out in the fields.  She found him handsome,
strong, and irresistible -- maybe she could have *his* baby? He
looked a bit like her husband, at least. She presented her rear
end while leaning over a living room chair, and was rewarded with
the straight, quick shot up the cunt that she wanted.
 
But she would not get the baby she wanted. For the first few
months, I made sure never to start any babies. I was seeking
pleasure, and had no desire to create offspring.
 
That was until Sasha asked me flat out if I would try to make her
pregnant.  I considered the issue.
 
I ordered up bodies for all my sexual encounters, but my
specification was at the level of observable characteristics:
height, weight, voice quality, body shape -- and penis shape. I
could create a face or for that matter a whole human off the
model of an existing person. But at the microscopic level, I
wasn't involved. My incarnations ejaculated, but I didn't know
the details of what was in the milky fluid. Could I even make a
woman pregnant? If so, what sort of DNA was it?
 
I decided there was no harm in trying, and Sasha conceived my
child. I quickly learned that that much was possible. Thousands
of other women asked for it, but I only tried with forty or so,
and I only fathered a dozen children, waiting to see how I would
feel as they grew up.
 
Months went by. I never sleep, of course, and as the sun circles
the globe there are always time zones with evenings and mornings
and the dead of night. A hundred thousand seductions a day ended
with a hundred thousand ejaculations, and a hundred thousand
orgasmic bliss states accrued back to me.
 
-------------------
 
A single experience with any particular girl was plenty for me --
or if I wanted a girl a second time, I appeared as a totally
different man. I didn't want to get emotionally involved. Once I
had what I wanted from a girl, I didn't care what happened to
her.
 
Missy was a girl I took home from the bar one night, a
particularly beautiful and vulnerable 20-year-old who was an
especially satisfying sexual partner. A week after our interlude
she was brutally raped. I had been observing rapes for thousands
of years, and in the modern age there were millions each day. I
watched her rapist spit on her and slap her, then I watched as
terrified Missy took it up the cunt. A normal occurrence, and
hundreds of thousands of times each day people treated each other
far worse. But a little something stirred. I felt a little
compassion, and a momentary surge of anger against the rapist.
This was ridiculous! I had observed countless tortures and
massacres, why would I care about one girl? It was just part of
life!
 
But I did.  And I noticed this same stirring of compassion when
misfortune befell a few of my other partners as well. I felt the
urge to intervene.
 
Missy's situation kept coming back to me. Something as simple as
a severe pain in the foot would have steered Missy's rapist away
from her and kept her safe, but I began to dream of more than
prevention. I dreamt of slowly crushing his balls as he died of
thirst, chained to his bed. Where was that coming from?
 
To make it totally ridiculous, I even began feeling sorry for all
the bar girls whose hearts I had broken.
 
I gave up sex completely and reflected on my situation for
several days.
 
I was thoroughly submerged in the human pleasure of sex. That in
itself was a dangerous slide from Godhood to groveling in the mud
of the human experience. But I had not been satisfied with my own
orgasm -- I wanted conscious partners who enjoyed my attentions.
Now I was showing the first signs of emotional involvement,
wanting to protect the women I had screwed. The evolutionary
basis of this in human men was clear enough -- it was worth a
little effort on the man's part to protect the baby she might be
carrying as a result of their union. But I was not a human!
 
Where could this lead? I could resolve not to intervene, and
become increasingly troubled as the tragedies of life befell my
girls. I could protect them from rape and auto accidents without
disturbing the world too much. But what about chronic diseases?
Miserable, cheating boyfriends? Poverty? Aging and death? That
way lay madness.
 
But the other option was to give up the sex, and that was
unthinkable.
 
-------------------
 
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
 
"And what are your sins?"
 
"I have committed 23,404,771 acts of sexual intercourse outside
the bond of holy matrimony."
 
Nah, as I played that scenario out in my mind it was obvious that
was never going to work.  I'll try going Protestant, I thought. 
That one I followed through with:
 
"Reverend, I am not known to you, but I wonder if you could offer
me some spiritual guidance."
 
"Come in to my study and let's talk... So what can I do for you?"
 
"I have been hardhearted through most of my life. And then I have
had numerous affairs with women. They have all been consensual,
mind you, but I know I have misled some of them and not acted as
honorably as I could have. However, I now find that my heart
melts for one of them." One -- keep it simple and believable. "I
feel true compassion for her and want to ease her way as she goes
on in life. I can do this, but if I remove all challenges from
her future, am I doing her a favor? And what if some of the
things I do end up having a negative effect on other people?"
 
"What sort of help are you considering giving her?"
 
I had many options, but figured I ought to pick something
remotely believable. "I could give her $2,000,000. Or help her
get that job she wants. But if I do, then someone else won't be
getting that job, and the money can't go to help someone else
instead."
 
"You say you may have not been honest with her. Would she like to
marry you? Would that be a more natural alternative?"
 
"No... that wouldn't be possible."
 
"Well, OK. Those other favors you suggest sound very generous. As
to the other people who could have benefited, I encourage you not
to worry about it. We have to live our lives on a human scale.
Figuring out the very best way to spend our money to do the most
good in the world is a task beyond most of us, and even if we do
it we will be tormented by uncertainty. If you have this one girl
who needs your help, it is honorable to give her the money and
not just spend it on some luxury for yourself."
 
"That's very helpful, Reverend. Thank you for your time."
 
"You're welcome."
 
Of course that didn't get at the real problem.
 
I wrote a letter with a fountain pen:
 
"Dear Father, Mother, or Whoever, You have made me God of Earth,
but you have not told me how to figure out what to do. First I
just observed, hoping that my purpose would come to me. Recently
I decided to experience life as humans do, and have become very
interested -- nearly obsessed -- with sex. Now I feel my
objectivity slipping, and my desire to reduce suffering and evil
among these humans. While each act would be good taken in
isolation, the overall effect will be to create an insipid,
uninteresting world. Please help me! Please? Sincerely, God"
 
I reconciled my sexual hunger with my profound doubts about
easing suffering with a muddled middle course.  I stopped girls
from dying in car crashes and kept them from being murdered and
raped.  To avoid future anxiety and tough choices, I didn't
approach those who were in difficult situations already, such as
suffering violence at the hands of their husbands.  Then I
reduced the pain of broken hearts by restricting my attention to
girls who truly wanted only one-night stands.

I was getting a great deal of sex, but another element of
dissatisfaction arose.
I was known to these girls and women, but I was in disguise.  I
wanted them to know me as I was, as God.  Even if I was unlike
their God in some important respects, I wanted them to know me.

--------------------------
 
"Kristin, Kristin," I said gently, shaking the girl's shoulder.
 
She turned and open her eyes groggily. Realizing that a strange
man was sitting on the edge of her bed in the middle of the
night, she bolted upright and shied away, eyes wide.
 
"Don't be frightened, Kristin," I said. "I know you have prayed
for me, and I'm here to answer your prayers."
 
"Jesus?" she whispered.
 
I smiled. I had chosen a body that looked quite a bit like some
famous artistic representations of the man. Long brown hair,
brown eyes, prominent nose, peaceful countenance.
 
"Yes, my child."
 
"Why... What... I can't..."
 
"Come here and kiss me," I said, pointing at my cheek.
 
"How do I know you're really Him?" Devout as she might be, having
the Son of God appear by her bedside was on the face of it far
more unlikely than some rapist invading her home at night.
 
I smiled. A very good question. I manufactured a halo around my
head.
 
She looked at it in wonder, then drew her knees up under her to
reach a kneeling position, staying at some distance. She steepled
her hands and bowed in prayer.
 
"That's very nice," I said. "But what I'd like you to do is give
me a kiss."
 
She hesitated.
 
"Do you love the Lord with all your heart?"
 
"Yes, yes," she said. "Please forgive me, I just didn't
expect..." Heart pounding, she leaned forward and gave me a peck
on the cheek.
 
"Now, on the lips," I said. I gently kissed the lips she
proffered. She then made to withdraw, but I put my right hand
behind her head to indicate my desire for her to stay and I
continued kissing her, slowly and gently. She responded.
 
Kristin had never done such a thing before. She had taken The
Pledge and was saving herself for marriage. Making out was a
temptation, she knew. As the seconds rolled by and the kisses
continued, I could tell she was starting to get aroused.
 
I pulled back and smiled at her. "You liked how that felt?"
 
She blushed a little. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir -- I mean -- your
holi..."
 
"'God' will do just fine," I said.
 
"Dear... God, forgive me for feelings of the flesh," she said
humbly.
 
"Sometimes those feelings are healthy. Let me see you as you
really are, without clothes."
 
She hesitated just a moment, looking uncomfortable, then stripped
completely. Her God had commanded it!
 
"Kneel here on the bed in front of me, the rest of you upright,"
I said.
 
She dutifully walked on her knees into position.
 
"You are beautiful," I said, reaching out my right hand slowly to
cup her left breast, small but perfect in every respect.
 
She showed the barest impulse of pulling back, but controlled it.
 
Soon both of my hands were freely gliding all over her front,
from shoulders to hips, breasts, and then brushing over her tuft
of pubic hair.
 
"Kristin," I said, "It is my will to lie with you tonight. But it
is a request, not a command."
 
"I took the Pledge," she said, partly to herself. "And I have
been taught that it is sin, but... if you are God, of course I
want to do Thy will! Please forgive my hesitation and initial
doubt, O God."
 
"Forgiven," I said. "Your Lord knows how unusual this must seem."
 
Kristin lay back on her bed, legs spread, hands up at her sides,
face as beatific as she could manage. She undoubtedly expected I
would glide into her with as much dignity as the human mating act
allowed and unburden myself of my seed, all the while retaining
the divine demeanor befitting the halo around my head.

I tossed off my robe, exposing my hard, ready organ. She gave it
a glimpse and swallowed. Instead of mounting her for a gentle,
missionary position union, I lay beside her and began covering
her with kisses: cheek, ear, neck, and lips. My hands glided all
over breasts and stomach, homing in quickly on her pussy. It was
moist, and my fingers quickly found her slit, then her clit, and
the moist quickly turned to wet.
 
"You're tempting me into lust," she said, embarrassed. "I'm
trying to resist but I don't think I am strong enough, God."
 
I chuckled. "I would like you to give in to your sexual arousal,
to let your womanly self come to the fore and enjoy yourself."
 
She looked at me for one moment, then let her breathing quicken
and relaxed. I dove with my head to her right nipple and sucked
on it ravenously. I reveled in her virgin femininity for a long
time. I had taken enough time that she was long since fully
aroused and dripping. I rolled over on top of her.
 
I locked eyes with her as I started pressing my cock against her
pussy opening. This was the moment I had been looking forward to
most. This was a healthy girl whose sexuality was fully awakened,
ready for first penetration and intercourse. She was also a
devout girl who had been taught that sex was at heart sinful, at
best a necessity for procreation within marriage. And now she
believed that the Lord her God had Himself appeared and commanded
her to sexuality, and lustful sexuality at that. Her expression
was priceless.
 
With hymen gone she felt no pain as I glided into her. She
responded as quite the hot little bunny as I reached my depth and
my strokes became regular. Unsure just what noises she might
make, I reached through Godspace to put her parents and four
siblings who shared this house into an especially deep sleep. I
then began pounding with abandon into her sopping cunt. Within
minutes she rose to her first climax, moaning, "Oh God, oh God!"
on her way to a genuine shriek. Her invocation of my name was
more in the spirit of an expletive than direct address -- not
that I could have cared less.
 
It was the first orgasm of her life, but that didn't stop her
from rising again. I adjusted my pressure, speed, and angle to
what I knew from long experience would trigger another
mind-wrenching orgasm in a girl like her. After half an hour I
decided to end this heavenly interlude with my own orgasm, and
increased my depth and speed to match that of any irreverent man
who relished the animal passion of sex. My hot, hard, and wide
penis finally reflected my climax by shooting jets of divine cum
up into her cunt. "Oh, Kristin!" I managed. I slowed but held her
to me, this young virgin who had just made love to God.
 
After enjoying her body, trembling with emotion, I donned my robe
once more and sat on the side of the bed.
 
"You are truly blessed," I said.
 
"Should I tell people about You?" she asked from her passionate
confusion.
 
"I wouldn't advise it. I will make myself known in my own good
time."
 
I relished that experience with Kristin and repeated it with her.
I also replicated it worldwide, though there were only a few
hundred attractive young Christian virgins who were devout enough
-- and, frankly, gullible enough -- to believe that God Himself
had decided to screw them with animal lust.
 
------------------------
 
"Kelly, you're acting a little different lately.  What's up?"
asked Sarah Pulsifer. She was 23 and God had been fucking her
every week or so for months, and it was very hard to keep quiet
about it. Lately she noticed that 19-year-old Kelly had changed.
She was quieter and more devout than ever.
 
Kelly hesitated a moment as they walked. "Umm, no, nothing," she
said, though she was obviously uncomfortable.
 
"I just wondered about whether you had any... unusual dreams, or
anything."
 
Kelly gulped. Sarah had the sense that she was onto something.
 
"Well, some are unusual, but I hadn't thought much about it."
 
"See, I've had these dreams that God Himself came into my room
and visited me at night."
 
Kelly stopped dead in her tracks and stared. "Yes, I've had
dreams like that!"
 
"And ... some of my dreams get sort of embarrassing."
 
"Mine too!"
 
"Like how?"
 
"Like ... He asks me to take my clothes off!" Suddenly worried
she had revealed too much, she continued, "Silly dream!"
 
But Sarah was not fooled. "And then he asks you to get physical
with him?"
 
"Yes! And he's very ... earthy about it. I guess it's my inner
lusty self expressing itself in dreams."
 
But Sarah and Kelly had locked eyes, and they both knew.
 
"In my dream," Sarah said, "He told me not to tell anyone and
that he would reveal himself in good time."
 
"Mine too!"
 
"And another very curious thing.  There is no extra ... mess
where I would expect one."
 
"It truly is the Lord," whispered Kelly.
 
They discovered that three other young women in their church had
had similar "dreams."
 
Robin couldn't keep the secret. She spoke openly of what was
happening to her and said the other four had had similar
experiences. This put Kelly, Sarah and the other two in an
uncomfortable position. Their God had told them not to disclose
their liaisons. But God hadn't told them to lie under direct
questioning. When they prayed, He gave no guidance.

But whatever they did, they knew that nothing would be the same
again.
 
-----------------------
 
"So tell us again, Robin," asked the psychiatrist, "When did
these hallucinations begin?" Robin sat in one chair, the good
doctor in another one facing her. Standing behind him hovered the
social worker, the charge nurse and the student. All four were
examining her like a bug.
 
"They are not hallucinations," Robin explained tiredly.
 
"OK, when did these nighttime visits begin?"
 
"Five weeks ago, on Tuesday."
 
"And would you tell us what happens?"
 
"No, I will not! Not with all these people here. Besides, I've
already told you. Once was enough!"
 
"We can't help you, Robin, until you can face up to these
hallucinations and delusions. You say you have multiple orgasms
when the good Lord visits you?" His professional demeanor just
couldn't mask the titillation he felt.
 
Robin turned a bit pink but didn't answer. The doctor's retinue
behind him shifted uneasily.
 
"You understand that dreams are a way that we work through sexual
feelings? Especially for a girl whose religion teaches that she
shouldn't have any such feelings."

Robin sighed, but didn't speak.
 
Despite her hallucinations and delusions, no one could claim
Robin was a threat to herself or anyone else, and the insurance
only covered a week of hospitalization, so they had to let her
go.
 
-----------------------
 
"Sarah, you have been a good daughter, a fine young woman who has
never strayed from the Way," began the Reverend Pulsifer.
 
"I have tried, father."
 
"And you have never lied to me before."
 
"I have ... occasionally. For which I have asked God for
forgiveness. But I am not lying now."
 
"And you are telling me that God comes to you in the night and
has carnal relations with you?"
 
"Yes."
 
"Over and over, week after week?"
 
"Yes."
 
"You and the other four girls, week after week." The Reverend
Pulsifer was seething. "Sarah, I have prayed long and hard about
this, and I regret what I am about to do, but I feel I must."
 
Sarah looked at him, suddenly frightened.
 
"Lift your dress and bend over my knee!"
 
"Father!"
 
"Do as I command!"
 
"No!"
 
"Are you disobeying the command of your own father?" the Reverend
growled in a low, threatening tone.
 
Stunned, trembling, and frightened, Sarah lifted her dress and
lay over her father's knee.
 
The man's hand slapped against the girl's butt through her
panties, increasing in force, over and over.
 
"You will not lie to your father... Do you understand?" The
Reverend paused after a dozen brutal whacks. "Do you understand?"
he yelled.
 
Sarah was defeated and felt helpless -- almost. "Dear God, please
don't desert me now," she whispered.
 
"What did you say?" bellowed the Reverend.
 
"I asked God not to desert me," she repeated in a monotone,
resigned.
 
"How dare you! How dare you!"
 
The Reverend dragged Sarah roughly to her feet and with a
murderous rage  slammed his fist into her face so hard it drew
blood.
 
"Daddy!" she whimpered, "Please!"
 
The Reverend wound up for another blow, but it never landed. A
man who looked remarkably like Jesus Christ suddenly materialized
out of nowhere and caught his wrist and crushed it. Sarah heard
the bone snap. Jesus threw the Reverend face down on the floor,
then landed with his knees on his back.
 
"You are no minister," Jesus growled. "You are the scum of the
Earth! These girls are telling the truth, and if you or anyone
raises a hand against them again, you will be very, very sorry,
do you understand?"
 
The terrified Reverend gave a brief nod. They heard his wife's
hurried steps, and she peeked her head around the corner.
 
Jesus then turned to Sarah, smiled, and held out his arms. Sarah
raced to him, bursting into tears, and he enfolded her. The
Reverend and his wife looked on, beyond astonished. After a
minute, he said to her gently, "I have to go now, Sarah." As she
drew away he pointed his hand at her cheek and the gash knit
together without seam or scar, then he gave her a gentle kiss.
Tiredly he turned to the Reverend and pointed his finger. The
Reverend winced once and held his wrist, which he would soon
discover was no longer broken.
 
Jesus then disappeared.

---------------------
 
OK, OK, I really lost my cool. It was hard enough to watch my
girls humiliated and scorned and called wannabe sluts and whores.
But when her father drew blood on Sarah's cheek, I had had
enough.

Within the church, there was doubt and turmoil, then belief. Why
would five girls make up such an embarrassing story? Why would
the Reverend admit to such humiliation? Why would the Reverend,
his wife, and his daughter all agree completely in their
recounting of such a strange drama?
 
Aside from the daytime appearance of Jesus, the same sequence of
events was repeated in other Christian communities throughout the
world.  I hadn't gotten involved in other denominations -- only
the Christians among major faiths were open to the idea of God
reappearing among them on Earth in such a literal fashion, so it
was only among them that I had the delicious experience of
seducing their girls in secret.
 
--------------------------------
 
Editorial by Ernest Fallon, prominent Evangelical theologian:
 
"Our movement and indeed the entire world faces a crisis. The
world may not believe it yet, but a being with supernatural
powers walks among us here on Earth once again. He performs feats
with no possible scientific explanation. He claims to be God.
 
"However, his main activity seems to be materializing in the
bedrooms of our young women at night and convincing them to have
sexual relations. All reports from our young women are that he
encourages sexual wantonness in them and experiences it himself.
 
"Our God would do no such thing. This is Satan! We didn't think
Satan was so fixed on sexual relations, but perhaps his purposes
are as inscrutable as Our Lord's. But from where I sit, I say
that the Devil himself walks among us once more.
 
"Whether Old Scratch allows this to be published I do not know.
Whether he will torture me here on Earth or claim my immortal
soul for the fires of hell, I do not know. But I speak the truth
as I see it.
 
"It is Satan, not Our Lord Jesus Christ, who walks among us. It
is our duty to resist."
 
 
Rebuttal Editorial by Sarah Pulsifer
 
"I agree with Reverend Fallon that a Being with supernatural
powers walks among us on Earth. I agree that we must not assume
that this Being is God just because He says so. I understand that
men of good will can question whether He might be Satan. I know
that Satan can seduce us with fine things here on Earth in
exchange for our immortal souls.
 
"But this Being comes to me in the night. He is kind. He brings
me to pleasures I never dreamed of. Everything in His behavior
speaks of life and love. Hundreds of girls report identical
experiences. It is of great interest that dozens of girls report
being visited by Him and declining His attentions. He has always
left them with friendly courtesy, and has never imposed His will
on them.
 
"I am one of very few who has seen Him in the daylight, in the
witness of others: my father and mother. He saved me from
disfiguring blows from my angry father; maybe he saved my life.
Now my father and mother also believe He is Our Lord.
 
"Throughout history good Christians have disagreed on the
purposes of our Lord. We should have the humility to recognize
that perhaps we were all wrong.
 
"I think we should welcome Him and as much as possible seek to
carry out His will. So far, He has made requests of only a small
group of young women. I encourage any who are asked to accept. If
He makes other requests of other people and they are as
life-affirming as what He asked of me, I hope you will accept as
well."
 
Editorial in the New York Times.
 
"The history books are full of the reports of supernatural
phenomena. None of the UFO sightings or ESP reports have held up
under scrutiny. Reports of religious miracles have been frequent,
but conveniently none has been open to validation by independent
observers.
 
"It is relatively rare for anyone to claim that God himself moves
among us here on Earth, performing miracles. This Don Juan Deity
phenomenon is truly extraordinary in a number of respects. First,
the young women who report his attentions are from all parts of
the world, and their stories match closely. Second, the steamy
sexual encounters are very embarrassing to these young women, who
have generally been among the most devout in any group. The
encounters are against the moral code that these women so
fervently believed in. Third, and most interesting, is the report
from would-be assassins.  Among those who believe that Don Juan
is the devil, dozens of individuals have tried to kill the girls,
believing them to be in the power of the Devil. And just as the
girls report the same pattern, the would-be assassins report
their own identical pattern. On their first attempt, they are
simply physically prevented from shooting the gun or wielding the
knife or deploying the poison. On their second, they are given a
very painful experience in addition to being prevented from
carrying out their murderous deeds. Those few who try a third
time have been maimed.
 
"We cannot say that God walks among us. But we do feel certain
that an extraordinary supernatural phenomenon is upon us. It is a
time for all of us to reexamine our most deeply held beliefs."
 
--------------------------
 
Did I know things would get out of hand like this? I had all the
information on how you humans would react. I knew the girls
couldn't keep quiet forever, and I knew that they would be
persecuted.

What I didn't know was myself. While I have studied billions of
humans, there is only one of me, and my recent behavior is
unprecedented. I did not know how strong my sexual hunger could
be. I did not know how much dissatisfaction I would feel seducing
women under false pretenses as Mr. Right. I did not know how much
I would crave approaching women with honesty, as God. True, I
wasn't the same God they believed in, but it was close enough.
And then I didn't know how much I would feel protective of them,
and how I would feel the need to deflect the very numerous
attempts on their lives.
 
One fine day at midnight, GMT, inscriptions appeared in thousands
of places around the world, in hundreds of languages. The English
version was:
 
"Yes, I am God and I am among you here on Earth. I see and hear
everything, and my power is such that none can stand against me.
Your religions are all wrong in detail but all have good points.
All I ask of you is to be kind to one another.

"I now seek sexual relations with many women. Be especially kind
to those women who I have consorted with, for they are especially
blessed.

"My ultimate purposes shall remain my own."
 
So there it was, out in the open, in black and white. I was free
to intervene in the world without needing to cover my tracks.
 
Some human suffering was easy enough to eliminate.
Straightforward wars and brutal crimes ceased. Wife beaters and
child abusers quickly discovered that those crimes would be
tolerated no longer. Slaves were set free.
 
Other areas presented slippery slopes. Employers with workers
living under miserable conditions held their breaths, but I did
not intervene. How far could I take economic justice without
removing dynamic tension from society? Owners of dirty coal-fired
power plants slept fitfully for a while. But how could I take on
an issue like global warming without completely upending
civilization?
 
 
---------------------

When God announced his presence on Earth, highly religious girls
sought ways to serve him. They suggested a number of
possibilities. One successful one was communion.

Twenty naked young women knelt, sitting back on their feet, heads
bowed and hands clasped in prayer.  I too was naked with a fine,
large cock that was, for the moment, flaccid.

The ceremony began when I approached the woman on the end of the
line.  "Rise, my child," I said.  As she did, I placed my hand on
her head, and she asked quietly, "Oh Heavenly Father, am I worthy
to receive communion?"

I hefted one breast, then the other, and pinched her nipples
between my fingers. Then as she spread her legs, I spread her
nether lips from Godspace and then slid my middle finger up her
pussy and wiggled it around. I like sticking my finger up a
pussy.  Then I almost always said, "Yes, you are worthy."

She then got down on her knees. By then I was hard, and she took
me in her mouth. She looked up at me in adoration as she bobbed
up and down and licked with her tongue while caressing my balls
and shaft with her hands. I moaned my pleasure and let it build
rapidly, then unburdened my balls of a bit of sperm, which the
young woman swallowed. "Bless you," I panted.

It was on to the next girl. "Oh Heavenly Father, am I worthy to
receive communion?" More breasts, another middle finger up
another pussy, and another blow job.

--------------------------
 
Jolie was lounging in her living room as the 11pm news was
finishing.
 
She jumped when she heard, "Hello, Jolie," from the hallway. Her
doors were locked and she lived alone.
 
"Who's there?" she asked, heart pounding.
 
"Just God," said the strange voice, slowly appearing around the
corner.
 
"You're... Oh, my God! ... I mean," she said, pulling back into
the sofa.
 
"Yes, Jolie, it's just little old me. I think you are so
beautiful... and I'd like to make love with you."
 
Jolie felt a gentle vibration against her clitoris inside her
panties.
 
"No pregnancy, no disease, and a guaranteed good time," he said,
the vibration surging noticeably for a moment. Do you think I'm
sexy?" he asked.
 
He certainly was that, with his short dark hair, intense brown
eyes and square jaw. He was perhaps 6'3" and muscular.
 
"Can I say no, or are you just going to take me anyway?"
 
"You can say no and I will respect your wishes." The instant he
said that, the vibration between her legs stopped, though it
started again slowly.
 
She knew from the news reports that God hadn't taken anyone
against her will, but wanted to hear it for herself.
 
The man sidled over slowly and sat close beside her on the sofa.
 
"What do you say, Jolie," he said softly. "Just a kiss?"
 
He leaned in towards her, and his masculine presence made her
tingle. His hand was on her cheek, gently turning it towards him.
She could easily have turned away, but she didn't. As his lips
met hers she felt her feminine hunger burst into flames. She
eagerly kissed him back.
 
Sensing her enthusiasm, he parted her robe to reveal the
nightshirt within, then lifted the shirt until her breasts
showed. With one hand he massaged a breast and squeezed her
nipple. He lowered his head to suck enthusiastically while the
displaced hand slid down to her knees, then up between her
thighs, rapidly reaching her wet panties. She couldn't believe
how quickly she had gotten aroused. She was eager for his cock up
her cunt! The unprecedented edge to her desire made that crude
word come to her mind.
 
"You want to go to the bedroom?" she asked breathlessly.
 
"If you'd like," he said, rising from her and pulling her hips
and legs up onto the couch.  He seemed eager to consummate their
union right there on the couch, and her hunger was such that she
wasn't going to argue with him.

She lay on her back, with legs spread, one knee up in the air
resting against the sofa back, the other hanging over the edge.
Her clothing just disappeared, something the news reports covered
as well.  He was naked too.
 
She saw that his erect organ was large and another thrill took
her. Of her boyfriends, Carl had had a big one, and she had
gotten used to being filled up with it. None of her men since had
measured up.  The size of God's cock was very appealing!

He nudged it against her opening and pressed gently. Her wet
flesh parted for him, engulfing him. Her pussy thrilled to that
familiar sensation. He was even a little thicker than Carl! The
vibrations against her clit increased and she felt God's cock
pressing her tissues back and forth.  Seeing his handsome face
and body moved her.  Somehow he was using a lens to focus all her
pleasure on one spot in her brain, and when the focus was
established she burst into orgasmic convulsions the like of which
she had never felt before. She loved feeling God pumping away as
an accompaniment to her fading climax. She did not stay quiescent
for long, though, as that magical clitoral vibration picked up
again and the man's cock pounded her with abandon.
 
She saw him looking her up and down greedily, attending
especially to that spot where his prong was piercing her, shaft
pumping in and out urgently.
 
"Oh, Jolie ... mmmm, oh, yes, unnnhhh!" he called out as he
approached and then reached orgasm. She followed him with perfect
timing to her second climax, sensing his ecstasy and feeling his
member twitching inside her. He slowly pulled out and lay on top
of her. After a few minutes he sat up.
 
"So, did you enjoy that?" he asked.
 
Jolie nodded dreamily.
 
"Great! But now I must be going."
 
"Can I see you again?"
 
The man grinned. "Say your prayers, and we'll see."

------------------
 
Jolie daydreamed of God revealed as her perfect man and the
magnificent sex they had shared. She took a bath the next
evening, and after drying herself lay naked on her bed, legs
spread wide. She massaged herself, feeling aroused and horny,
missing him.
 
She remembered what he'd said about prayers, so with a chuckle
she intoned, "Oh God, I wish you were here to make love to me
again!"
 
The man instantly materialized above her on the bed, naked with
cock twitching.
 
"Oh, shit!" she said with astonishment.
 
The man smiled. "Were you serious?"
 
"Yes, oh yes!" Jolie cried.
 
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than his warm, hard
meat stuffed her in a very satisfying manner and he pounded away.
 
"You're so sexy," he growled, his pumping getting more and more
urgent. She rose to her climax and had her urgent release of high
pleasure just as he grunted and held his huge meat deep in her,
twitching.
 
Within half a minute he was gone.
 
She came to consciousness in the morning feeling warm and cozy.
Memories of the night before came to her with a thrill, and she
decided she'd see how much her luck held. Lying on her side, she
pulled her panties down and flipped the covers off.
 
"Oh, dear God," she said, smiling. "Would you do me a quickie
from the rear?"
 
She felt a weight on the bed behind her and the hard cock surged
inside. "Come any time," she murmured.
 
She hadn't been expecting anything for herself, but something wet
and warm massaged her clit urgently, and ten strokes later, God
punched into her very deep, his tip hitting the end of her pussy.
It caused a flash of pain, and at the same instant she had a
sharp orgasm.
 
He disappeared and she fell asleep for a few more minutes.
 
When she got up later, she saw the little wet spot from the
morning's fuck and a stain from the one the night before.
 
"I pray that these stains get removed," she said. They instantly
vanished!
 
She looked down at herself and saw a little semen drying on the
inside of her left thigh, a little moisture around her pussy
lips. "I pray for you to clean me up so I am ready for work!" She
felt a little tickle and pressure, and she was clean! She rubbed
her finger through her slit and raised it to her nose -- as 
innocuous as ever!
 
Excited, she went to the living room sofa, seeing there was a
little stain from their first night of sex. "I pray for you to
clean that up." It vanished.
 
In the kitchen she shut her eyes and said, "I pray for a cup of
coffee." Nothing happened.
 
"I pray for a western omelette! I pray for fresh strawberries!"
Nothing happened.
 
She opened her wallet. "I pray for a thousand dollars! All right,
what about a five!" Still nothing happened. "OK, can I have a
penny?" A shiny penny appeared in her hand.
 
Aside from the occasional joke like the penny, she found that he
wouldn't answer most prayers. But he would help her clean up from
sex, and would meet her every sexual whim. She tried swallowing
some of his cum, which really tasted wonderful -- like sweetened
milk with delicate spices, she thought.
 
She had another thought as she lay naked one morning. "I pray for
a lacy blue bra, and a pair of silky fishnet stockings." That
request too was granted, and she was so happy she invited him to
come fuck her right then, which he did.
 
"Can't you stay the night?" she asked one time as he lay heaving
next to her, recovering from delivering a big load of cum -- she
had prayed for an especially big load.
 
He turned to her and stroked her cheek. "No," he said softly,
"that's not something I can do." He had stayed overnight with
Becky many months before but didn't do that any more.
 
"Why not?"
 
He gave an enigmatic smile. "God works in mysterious ways."
 
She had been thinking of doing some speed dating, maybe checking
out some of those newer online sites, but somehow she didn't get
to it. She had found Jesus. She had let Him into her heart -- and
her pussy.
 
---------------------
 
Erica came up behind her mother Carla as she perused the
internet. "Mom, can I ask you something?"
 
"Just a minute... there! Sure, honey, what's up?"
 
"You know about this God stuff?"
 
"Yeah," her mother said, a small twinge of fear going through
her.
 
"You know how like girls will pray and he'll show up in their
bedrooms?"
 
Her mother looked at Erica. How could she possibly have grown up
so fast? She was 14, and had looked like a woman since she was
11. She had gotten her period at -- what was it, age 9? Yes. She
was pretty heavy, though -- they tried getting her to watch what
she ate and to exercise, but it didn't do much good. She wasn't
blessed with a very pretty face either. She had a largish nose,
prominent eyebrows and a certain lack of symmetry.
 
"I don't understand why they do that. It's not right," her mother
said.
 
"They say it feels really good."
 
"I'm sure it does.  But they're still going to fall in love with
him and feel crushed when he can't be their one and only man. 
It's no different just because he's God.

"They say you can keep praying and he'll keep coming back."

"Yeah, I heard that, but only for more sex. He's just interested
in their bodies!" Her mother paused. "You wouldn't do that when
you get that age, would you?"
 
Erica shifted and didn't speak right away, and her mother had a
little flutter of panic.
 
"No, I guess not," she said. "But I don't know what you think
'that age' is. Two girls in my class have already done it, and
that's just the two I know about!"
 
"I don't think it's a good idea, and I am not giving you
permission, if that's what you're asking."

Erica shifted. "Would you hate me if I did it?" she asked,
tearing up a little.
 
Carla sighed and the wind shifted in her sails. You can't shut
kids out or you'll make them keep secrets from you. "No, of
course not," she said. "You can tell me anything. I may think
it's a bad idea, but I'll still love you and respect you."
 
Erica looked at her mom. "I've prayed, mom. Over and over. And he
never comes to me. I'm too ugly!"
 
That put a different slant on things. "No, I'm sure that's not
it." Carla wasn't sure at all. There had been a line buried in
one of those new stories that he went for the pretty girls.
 
"Are you saying I'm not ugly?"
 
"No, you're not ugly! Not at all! Maybe the fashion magazines
wouldn't take you, and maybe the superficial guys won't go for
you, if they're too worried about peer pressure. But there are
plenty of boys who think you're very attractive." She paused a
moment, then said heatedly, "I can't help it if God is shallow.
You deserve better! And I'm very annoyed that this God person
does it with underage girls. He's a damned pedophile! Pardon my
language."
 
"Mom, God's listening all the time!"
 
Carla started. Parents used to try to convince kids of that when
it wasn't true, and now that it was so obviously true, the roles
were reversed. She said, "God, if you're listening, I know your
purposes are hidden from us and all, and I trust you know what
you're doing." Actually, she didn't trust that this God was up to
any good at all. "That's just the way it seems to me, OK?" Now as
for her daughter... how could she put this?
 
"Like I said, God's purposes are mysterious. Maybe he's saving
you for something better. Or maybe you're just lucky that you
aren't getting your head messed up by this sex stuff so very,
very early. It will serve you well later."
 
"Thanks, mom," said Erica. She supposed maybe her mom was right
about that part.
 
-------------------
 
Erica's sister Tina was just ten years old. She had excellent
hearing, which let her detect that Erica and her mother had
started an interesting conversation. She crept into the hall and
decided that she really did want to take a good look at the
portrait of her great-grandfather that hung there. He really was
a handsome man! Incidentally, this also let her hear the rest of
the conversation with perfect clarity.
 
She thought about it as she got undressed that night. She had
just had her third period, which was no fun at all. Now she
looked at her naked body in the full-length mirror. Her breasts
were coming along, and her pubic hair was starting to thicken.
She had a little bit in the way of hips. Her face wasn't the sort
they'd put on a beauty magazine, but it looked nice enough. She
felt sorry for her big sister.
 
What would it be like if God appeared in her bedroom? It was
exciting and also frightening. It would be so terribly naughty!
Could she get Him to come and just look and not touch? Lately she
found herself thinking that boys looked awfully interesting. They
said that with God it always felt really good. She didn't want to
do it, though! But then suppose he didn't stop, though, and went
all the way with her? But then they said he never took a girl
against her will.
 
She got into her pajamas, heart pounding, then turned out the
light but left the nightlight on. Probably nothing would happen.
"God," she whispered, "can you come and just look at me?"

God looked at her all the time, but it never occurred to her, and
in any case it was different when she could see him looking.
 
There was a quick knock on her bedroom door, then it opened and a
man let himself in.
 
"Hi, Tina," he whispered. "Of course I can just look. I won't
touch you."
 
It really had worked! Tina felt faint, and God sensed it.
 
"It's OK, Tina. People are often blown away when I first show up.
Want to shake my hand?" He held it out, and Tina shook it. His
flesh felt just like any ordinary person. He then seated himself
at her desk.
 
"Do you feel daring enough to show me a little of your body? It's
really beautiful. You don't have to.  If you do I won't tell
anyone, of course." He paused, and Tina just stood there. "I can
see those pretty breasts of yours poking your nightshirt out.
It's so nice to see them in a shirt like that when there's no bra
to hide their true shape. I love them small like that..."
 
Still Tina paused.
 
"If you just lift your shirt up little by little I'll get to see
your bellybutton -- I like to see bellybuttons too! -- and then
little by little I'll see the lower part of the bulges. And you
can stop any time."
 
Tina took the front of her nightshirt in both hands and lifted it
up past her bellybutton, then paused. He was right -- she could
stop any time. But she just lifted it up to show him her little
boobs.
 
"So beautiful, Tina! If you took the shirt off all the way then I
could see how it all fits together with your arms and shoulders."
 
Tina did. Feeling more comfortable, she took the waist of her
pajama bottoms in both hands. "Do you want to see down here too?"
 
"Oh, I do, so much!"
 
Tina pulled down her pants and panties, treasuring the moment
when her little tuft of hair and her crotch came fully into view,
then took them all the way off so she stood naked in front of
him.
 
"Turn around, dear," the man asked. She did, showing off the
entirety of her adolescent girliness.
 
"You are so totally gorgeous!" he said. "I know I said I wouldn't
touch, but if you come here I'd love to just touch the flesh of
your breast. Not the center if you don't want."
 
"OK," she said, coming closer. She felt another little thrill as
he traced his finger along the underside of her right breast. He
reached down to readjust his pants, which suddenly worried her
and she stepped back.
 
"Oh, don't mind that," he said. "It's just you're so sexy that
when I get back home I'm going to have to jerk off thinking about
how gorgeous you are and how much I'd like to do more with you."
 
That too, made Tina tingle. She got dressed again.
 
"Before I go," he said, "you've got options if you decide you
want me to come again. You could get me to come as a boy your
age. I can be what you like." And with that he just disappeared.
 
She didn't fall asleep right away as she thought about the
possibilities. She had dreamt sometimes of Jacob Waldron kissing
her, of chaste hugs. Could she get Jacob to appear without really
being him? If he was like Jacob he might be awkward or weird --
or would God fix that part?  She knew he would never tell anyone.
How far would she dare go?
 
Three nights later she got her courage up. Once again she got
into her pajamas and turned off everything but the nightlight,
then sat on her bed. "I pray for a boy who looks like Jacob
Waldron."
 
There he was, sitting in her chair. It was weird to see him just
materialize out of thin air.
 
"Hi, Tina," said that voice that was honey to her ears. "It's
great to see you."
 
He slowly walked over towards her while she rose. She was a
little taller than he was, but he grasped her shoulders lightly,
facing her. She felt embarrassed and looked down."What a pretty
face!" he said softly.
 
He was so confident and cool! So she looked at him, and with that
he stroked her cheek with the back of his right hand, then left
it under her chin as he brought his face up to hers. She closed
her eyes and was mesmerized by the first touch of his lips. He
was so gentle, the sensations so exquisite. Shivers went down her
spine. He circled her with his arms and drew them together, then
slowly massaged up and down her back. She was aware of her
breasts pressing against his chest.
 
He brought his hands down and cupped her butt cheeks. That was
very forward of him! And very exciting!
 
Tina started feeling a sort of warm vibration between her legs.
What was that? It awoke in her a yearning. Jacob moved right in
to answer it as he cupped one breast and moved his other hand
between her legs. He stepped back and tugged up on her shirt,
questioning. She had already shown her whole body to God, and
this really was God, even if he looked like Jacob. So she let him
take the top off. He traced over her two breasts with his
fingers, then went down to her pajama bottoms and started gently
tugging them down.
 
"You first," she said.
 
Jacob quickly got rid of his pajamas, tops and bottoms, and then
removed his briefs. His penis was sticking straight out! She
could actually touch it, and no one would know, right? She
reached out and was fascinated by its smooth hardness. She then
took off her own pajama bottoms and panties and straightened up
so they stood naked, facing each other.
 
He led her to the bed, and immediately went to sucking on her
left nipple. The amazing sensations built within her, and Jacob
reached between her legs to massage her little slit covered with
its silky hair.
 
That whole area between her legs was glowing with pleasure and
desire. She could feel the wetness. Was that normal? She was only
ten. What was she doing letting a boy touch her down there?  And
he wasn't really a boy...
 
"I think that's enough," she said.
 
Jacob slid on top of her so his body was covering hers. His
little hard penis was approaching her down there.
 
"I'm scared, Jacob. I'm not ready!"
 
"Oh, Tina, you'll love it, just you wait."
 
"But..."
 
She felt it then, her tissues pushed aside and the hot penis
sliding in as Jacob looked at her with intense desire.
 
"That's too much!"
 
But he would not be deterred, and within seconds she felt her
entire vagina filled up and felt his pubic bone press against
her. Immediately he began sliding his thing in and out.
 
She was scared at the strange sensations. There was no pain,
though. None at all. Could she get pregnant? It felt wonderful.
The pleasure was intense and it felt so exciting to have him
*inside* her, a spot that she knew instinctively was supposed to
be filled.
 
"Oh, Jacob..." she murmured. "But what if I get pregnant?"
 
"No -- remember I'm really God, right? Now, you want me to take
it out?"
 
At that Tina shook her head. Her legs were spread wide, welcoming
in the boy she had dreamed about -- but it wasn't him really. He
knew just what he was doing, and it felt great. She was doing
that thing that made babies! Letting him do it to her, and making
her feel like she wanted a baby. He went on and on for minutes.
 
He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Do you want me to
pretend I'm making you pregnant?"
 
"Yes!" she hissed.
 
He picked up his pace. "You're so hot, it will be just a few
seconds now."
 
Something about his motion became deeper and more serious
somehow, and she thrilled to think of her body being sexy enough
to make him do his pregnancy thing. Her loins were on fire, and
her pleasure amazed her as it built.
 
"Oh, Tina, mmm, Tina, here I come, almost..."
 
Tina seized up with pleasure just then, waves breaking over her
while she felt him urgently banging her deep, felt him very hard,
filling her so full, so very full.  His gasps shifted in tone
from longing to satisfaction and she knew he must be ejaculating
up inside her pussy hole, over and over.
 
He slowed and then pulled out. The act was done and she felt
complete.
 
He lay beside her. "That was great, Tina, welcome to being a
woman." She was surprised that she felt such tenderness for him.
 
After a couple minutes, he said, "I've got to be going now, but
any time you want me again, just pray for it." And with that he
retrieved his clothes and disappeared.
 
The pleasure threw Tina for a loop. She sensed she wasn't
supposed to feel that good at her age. She didn't want to feel
that good. She wanted to be a kid for a little longer. So she
didn't pray for him, and God didn't come.
 
But she grew, and the hormones coursed through her veins. She
thought about boys a lot, and that amazing experience with God
kept coming back to her.

Four months later, her attitude had shifted. She lay on her bed
naked, legs spread wide, rubbing herself. Why couldn't she be a
child and be sexy too? Impulsively she said, "I pray for God to
come do it to me."
 
God was there in a second, an older version of Jacob this time. A
real man. That sense of being filled up was so right, the
pleasure coursed through her just as before. And in under a
minute she exploded in her ecstasy and felt him reach orgasm too.
 
He didn't wait around so long that time, but she didn't mind. She
was happy to put her fingers between her legs and feel the goop
slipping out of her, his precious baby-making seed.
 
Now she felt ready, though, and a couple times a week she prayed
for his attentions, and her prayers were always answered as he
filled her cunt with cock and sperm. With her hunger filled she
felt better able to attend to the other challenges and
opportunity of adolescence. She felt a confidence too -- her body
was good enough for God!
 
---------------
 
Carla noticed a change in her daughter Tina. She seemed happier,
more grown-up. She thought she could smell a trace of a certain
familiar odor.  She had just read that girls as young as nine who
were sexually developed had prayed for God and he had come to
them.  Nine!  Was God doing her baby daughter?  She felt a little
outrage, but felt a little better realizing that if he was, it
was because she was asking him to.
 
"Tina, is there something you want to tell me?"
 
"Like what?"
 
"Anything about... being more grown-up?"
 
Tina reddened, but said, "No, mom!" and stormed from the room.
 
But Carla knew.
 
Erica couldn't get God to fuck her, but 11-year-old Tina could.
She was so little! The thought of it made her own pussy tingle.
 
Things with her husband Fred were not ideal. She remembered those
early days when they made love for hours. He would come three,
even four times. She didn't come easily, and even then and with
all his best efforts, those big orgasms that shook her soul
happened only every month or two.
 
Sex had taken a back seat when baby Erica arrived. First it was
Fred still wanting it a lot and her being tired. When they did
have sex it wasn't so free and easy, either. There was stress
between them brought on by parenthood. She sensed that he
pleasured her with his fingers so she would put out, not because
he really wanted her to be happy. She hadn't come in years,
though she faked an orgasm now and then.
 
What about this God? The girls on the news raved about him.
 
She didn't want to do anything to threaten her marriage, which
had its good points. Could she get God to help her feel
satisfied? Could he be discreet? Maybe it wouldn't really be
cheating, technically. It would be God, not another man. Who
could deny her a closer relationship with God? She smiled as she
said that, knowing it was a flimsy rationalization, but still...
 
"Dear God," she whispered one day after Fred had gone to work and
the kids were at school. "If we can do it so my husband never
finds out -- only that way, right? If I know he'll never find
out, would you come to me?"
 
She heard a rustling in the master bathroom, and then God walked
in. He looked a lot like David, that high school boy she had
dreamed about so much. "Hi, Carla," he said. "You sure are a very
sexy woman. We can be very discreet. I can clean up any stains,
and I could tell if anyone was going to disturb us. The only
problem is if you get happy and he notices. But from what I've
seen of him, he isn't really all that observant."
 
He was right about that. She remembered the time she got the
hairdresser to take off a full six inches and Fred had never
noticed.
 
Then God was upon her, touching her everywhere, making her tingle
with excitement. Her clit glowed. He slid his body onto hers, and
she loved the feel of it against her breasts, loved the weight of
him.  When he slid in, she knew at once that his cock was a lot
larger than Fred's.  He wielded it perfectly, and she had the
biggest orgasm of her life.
 
She felt guilty and swore she'd never do that again, but in two
months, after a fight with Fred, she prayed to God again.  Soon
she was praying a couple times a week, and her prayers were
answered.
 
---------------------------

"God, could you come make love to me like you do my big sister?"
prayed Kerry, age six.

"Hello, Kerry," I said.

"Hi," said the little one, not especially surprised to see me
appear in her bedroom.

"What is it you want? Do you even know what making love is?"

"I know Helen is all excited and thinks it's the greatest."

"Big girls make love, but not little girls like you."

"Can we try?"

I shrugged and considered the little body in front of me. I ran
my hands through her hair and along her skin. I kissed her
cheeks.

"You let me know if you don't like something, OK?"

"Sure, God."

I turned her onto her stomach and began giving her a back rub.

"That's nice, Mr. God."

I was enthusiastic about human food and drink. I was obsessed
with human sexuality. I also had acquired some of the human
attitudes towards children. Babies were charming. Children were
adorable, and I felt the human instinct to protect them all.

Now I considered Kerry for who she was. She smelled nice in that
way that children often do. Her body was vibrant, resilient, and
brimming with potential. I loved touching her, and she responded
to the sheer sensuality of it. At her age she might not have
ordinarily resonated with that part of her nature, but she was
trying to be a big girl like her sister. And of course being
touched did feel good.

She was happy to get out of all her clothes, and I enjoyed
massaging her little chest and her small butt. I stroked her soft
hairless labia a little, but felt no special sexual attraction.

Kissing her was also fun for both of us, though more as a sweet
novelty than a trigger to sexual feelings.

"So there, Kerry, how was that?"

"Fun," she said.  "Was that sex?"

"No, not really," I said. "At least not full-blown sex."

"Can we try sex now?"

"No, sweetie.  If you were ready for it you would have acted
differently. Wait a few years."

She shrugged. "OK, God. Thanks for coming."

"Did you like what we did so you'd want to do it again?"

"Maybe," she said.  But she didn't pray for me for several years.

----------------------------
 
Julia was 15, pretty, and horny. All the girls had been talking
about it, but she had just taken the plunge two weeks before --
and wondered why she had waited so long! First she had invited
God every other day, then daily, but now he had given her a
great, convulsive orgasm the night before, garnished with a big
dollop of cum, and she asked for him in the morning.
 
"I only have two minutes before I have to get ready for
school..."
 
God satisfied her and himself in just under a minute.
 
That afternoon when she got home from school, she prayed for God
to come fuck her before she started on her homework.
 
"Julia, are you up for trying something new?"
 
"Well, what?"
 
"How'd you like to get up on your hands and knees so we can do it
doggy style?"
 
She wasn't sure how much fun that would be, but figured she'd
give it a try. She was very pleasantly surprised. She couldn't
see God back there, but she could feel his cock filling her up,
feel his hands grappling with her butt and hear his guttural
grunts.
 
She wanted sex again just before bed that night. "Julia, what
would you think of taking me in your mouth for a little while
before we do it?"
 
"Sure!" So far she had always wanted his cock where it made her
feel good too, but maybe she had been too selfish.  She liked
keeping God happy. "Why don't you come in my mouth, too?" she
said mischievously.
 
God lay back and relaxed while Julia licked and sucked. "Mmmmm,
that's so nice... Last chance if you don't want it in your mouth,
baby..." She kept going and he moaned as he pumped his cum into
her mouth.
 
"That was good!" she said. "I mean the taste, though the rest was
great too. You really liked that, didn't you!"
 
"Mmmm, yes. Here, Julia, I brought something for you." He handed
her a pair of earrings. "They're real diamonds."
 
"Why?"
 
"You've made me very happy, and I'd like you to have them."
 
She wore them to school, the other girls asked, and she tried not
to gloat as she described why God said he had given them to her.

The other girls wanted jewelry too, and were willing to try new
things to get them.
 
----------------------------

Melinda lay with her legs spread and a huge puddle under her
pussy. "Oh, Melinda!!" growled George Clooney as he rammed it
deep, giving her another in what seemed an endless stream of
orgasms. Brad Pitt was right behind, and before a minute had
passed he was pulsing away in her pussy. She had started with all
the stars of her high school sports teams. God was saving an
incarnation of young Paul McCartney for last.
 
----------------------------

Suzette lay on her bed. One guy was down below, head between her
legs, licking her to a series of orgasms. But the main attraction
was higher up. As she lay on her back, a wall of men surrounded
her on all sides, hip to hip, cocks hard and twitching, ball sacs
hugged up tight against their bodies as they were right on the
edge. Suzette grabbed a cock and gave it ten strokes before the
guy came, great gobs of whitish cum spurting down onto her
breasts and neck. The dribbles renewed the lubrication on her
hand. She took one cock on each side of her and hadn't slid up
and down three times before they fired. She aimed them so they
spewed their cum onto her face and hair. The first man had fallen
away and a new one taken her place.

Within minutes her whole torso was covered with a thick spread of
cum. She paused to collect a handful and swallow the wonderful
stuff. But the next cock was ready to go, and she made a fake
pussy opening from her thumb and first finger. She only had to
engulf an inch of the straining cock head before he rocketed his
cum out too.

Then she saw six big, fat ones. "Can you do all six of us at
once, just touch us?" panted one of the men.  Each cock was so
close to coming: veins standing out, head wide and purple, entire
organ quivering. She touched one and it started twitching as its
owner moaned. She quick touched another, then the others in quick
succession until she had six men ejaculating on her at once, six
cocks twitching and straining as their gobs of sticky stuff
splatted out onto her, six men gasping and moaning.

She would have done it just for the fun of it, she realized.  The
fun and the opportunity to swallow so much sweet cum.  But she
was going to get a huge sapphire pendant set in pure gold.
 
----------------------------

All eight of them knew they were going to get a pair of some
designer jeans that weren't available for sale anywhere. The
eight lay in the same room, giggling. They all had on lacy bras
of pastel colors with special openings for the nipples to peek
through. They had stockings in similar colors, and gauzy
see-through silk skirts.

When the very hunky, athletic fellow appeared, they cooed and
fondled him anywhere they could reach.

After enjoying the attention for a while, he roughly grabbed the
one dressed in light green, turned her around onto her hands and
knees, lifted her skirt, and took her from the rear, filling her
cunt and coming almost at once, while she herself wailed with
orgasm. His great shots of cum started oozing back out of her
almost immediately, but he didn't linger before manhandling his
orange beauty into position and fucking her soundly from the rear
as well. His organ stayed rock hard. The girls' orgasms were so
intense they had trouble getting up to caress him more. Once he
had made the rounds of all eight, he went back to the first where
she lay and fucked her in missionary position, spewing more cum
up into her grateful pussy and making her twitch with orgasm. All
eight cunts were leaking heavily, but he kept going around and
around, fucking them and coming in them over and over; God had
infinite stamina when he wanted it.
 
Hundreds of millions of teenage girls the world over accepted God
as their lover. He possessed and pleasured them all, over and
over, at any time of day or night.  Young women in their 20s had
the same opportunities, and plenty of older women had spectacular
sex lives too. Many kept their relationship secret from husbands
and boyfriends.
 
----------------------------------
 
So as you see, I was getting plenty of sex. Tens of millions of
me were out about the world, fucking around the clock as the
Earth turned.
 
But I had a prodigious appetite. Lots of very attractive and
alluring women weren't interested in my attentions! They never
made that, "Dear God, please fuck me," prayer. If I appeared in
their bedrooms, they told me to go away.

To get part of what I wanted, I continued with my oldest form of
sexual satisfaction. I visited tens of millions at night as they
slept. I put them into a deep sleep and set about molesting them
eagerly, usually ending with a good solid fuck while the nubile
beauties had orgasms in their sleep. I cleaned up all traces of
our activity. I had no problem doing college roommates, or girls
in open dormitories. I could even do married women as they slept
next to their husbands. I could simply knock into a deep sleep
anyone within earshot.
 
From my earliest days taking girls in the night I had to deal
with surveillance cameras. I of course knew where every such
camera on Earth was located, because I'd seen them installed. So
when I wanted a luscious morsel whose night-times were being
recorded, I could cause a major malfunction or just freeze the
camera on a frame for a while. To avoid the suspicion aroused by
so many malfunctions, I just faked a recording of the girl
peacefully sleeping.
 
I was embarrassed that I missed it. Maybe all that orgasmic
pleasure flowing into me constantly addled my thinking.

A clever man had set up some shiny objects that functioned as
mirrors, his intent unclear to me (since I can't read thoughts,
there are plenty of actions whose intent I can never determine).
An ordinary laptop camera just happened to be pointing at one of
the mirrors. As I humped away on hot young Zoe, a blurry image
was recorded. Though I didn't know it at the time, I was in a
video raping a girl as she slept!
 
When considering possible embarrassing revelations of my
activities, I had a second line of defense. I am present to know
of every keystroke and every image that shows on a computer
monitor. If I ever saw a message I really didn't like, like one
saying, "I have proof God fucks girls while they sleep," I could
have easy have intervened.

However, this clever man didn't type the message. He typed five
files of what seemed like gibberish but were actually every fifth
character of the message starting at a different point, and he
had software to interleave them. The message went out, and by the
time it had been assembled in plain text with an attached movie,
it was being seen by thousands of pairs of eyes.
 
My first thought was to try to cover my tracks with thousands of
computer crashes. I brought down large portions of the Web
briefly before I came up with my best plan, which was to plant a
great many similar stories that could be shown to be hoaxes,
hoping this one would get lost in a haystack. Yet just while it's
hard for ordinary people to keep up a separate reality of
consistent lies when trying to cover something up, it's hard for
me too, especially when there are millions of people involved.

Despite my vast resources, there was just too much information
out there. If lots of clever hackers believed that I had
limitations and suspected these night-time liaisons, I wouldn't
be able to keep my secret forever.

Considering a more radical course, I realized I didn't have the
stomach for causing brain damage to thousands of hackers.

If I were being analyzed by some divine psychiatrist, he might
suggest that I wanted to be discovered.

-------------

Even before my cover for fucking women as they slept was blown, I
had discovered a nagging hunger. I wanted these women who refused
my attentions to know I was taking them as well. Taking girls as
they slept had never been very satisfactory.

Perhaps I could persuade some of these women who didn't want me.
Even if I failed at that, I wanted them anyway! My appetites were
great indeed.

---------------

Professor Nathan Dorsch was a respected scholar of religious
philosophy. He didn't recognize the name of his 2pm appointment
in his handheld, but it wasn't that unusual to get an occasional
layman who wanted to pose an ethical or religious problem. Their
understanding of their situation was always deeply muddled in
some way, and he couldn't really help them. He could recommend
introductory textbook material online, but they were never
satisfied. Yet he found it useful to keep in touch with the
earnest strivings of lay people who really wanted to know the
right thing to do.
 
The man was in his early 20s and began his questioning after a
few pleasantries.
 
"Professor Dorsch, my question is about this new God. He's
certainly not what any of the religions expected. But he is very
powerful, and he knows a lot. His purposes are mysterious. Of
course there's this raging debate over whether this God is good
or not. Do we owe him love and loyalty? Or should we oppose him
in whatever way we can? Our options there are limited, but at
least we can keep our own hearts pure and wait for the true God
to come smite Satan. While no one expected God would have
prodigious sexual appetites, some argue that we just need to be
more open-minded. A cornerstone of their position is that all the
girls and women who have consorted with him have done so
voluntarily. Some are below the age of consent, of course, but
they argue that perhaps he knows more about consent than we do."
 
Nathan nodded. He was impressed. This man could summarize the
situation with remarkable clarity.
 
He continued. "Suppose it turns out that God really does come to
girls in the middle of the night while they sleep, something that
seems more and more likely. These "open-minders" can argue that
once again we have had too limited a view of consent. Perhaps
when you do no harm, consorting with them without their knowledge
is permissible -- especially if you are God."
 
"I suspect they will make that argument, but there are many
considerations..."
 
"That's not my question," the young man interrupted, though
pleasantly. "Suppose that God actually turns out to be a rapist.
He comes on to women who clearly and unequivocally say 'No' and
he nonetheless possesses them sexually. Now, although a rapist,
suppose he shows no evidence of sadism -- he only does what is
necessary to have the sex he desires."
 
"OK," said the Professor.
 
"Could you think of any justification the open-minders could come
up with then? Can you think of any justification that God Himself
might put forward explaining why that's not an immoral thing to
do?"
 
"Well, that is an interesting question," the Professor began. "He
could get out of anything by introducing totally new
considerations, which it seems God might be quite capable of."
 
"But if he didn't?"
 
The Professor thought a few seconds. "I'd have to think about it
some more."
 
"Suppose you needed to come up with an answer right now."
 
His way was to deliberate about questions long and hard,
analyzing them from every point of view, and he wouldn't be
trapped into a hasty judgment. "It's been a pleasure talking with
you," the Professor said, rising, but his guest did not rise.
 
"How about a gut reaction? Just take another minute. Consider
that it might change my life."
 
The Professor suddenly remembered that day long ago when his
mentor had spent that extra minute and it had indeed changed his
life. He sat. He thought. Taking women against their will. They
are screaming, "No!" but he does it anyway.
 
Emerging from his reverie, he said, "No, I can't think of a
justification."
 
"Thank you," said the young man.
 
"Why is this so important to you?"
 
"Well, you see, I *am* God."
 
The Professor's first reaction was to laugh, but then he saw the
halo that had just started glowing above the man's head. Hardly
anyone had seen God except all the horny girls and women in the
privacy of their own homes.

"Oh, ummm," he said, gulping.
 
Then as he watched, the halo turned to devils' horns, then back
to a halo, wavering back and forth at irregular intervals.
 
"Don't sweat it, good fellow," said God. "Just don't be surprised
if you can't share this conversation with anyone for a while."
And with that, the man just disappeared.

He tried to start typing an email to his colleague, but just as
the young man had predicted, the keyboard froze up whenever he
started introducing the subject.

The young man visited a hundred noted scholars, thinkers, and
gurus.  The answer was always the same.


---------------------------

Georgina nearly spit her words.  "Show yourself, you Devil, you,
and face me.  Are you scared of a little woman?"  She took a
glance at the loaded shotgun on the wall, then picked up her meat
cleaver and whacked it down once more on the clay effigy of God
she had fashioned on her cutting board. "You shitty, goddamned
asshole of a devil, just show yourself!  I'll cram my turds down
your throat!"

I was used to taking a lot of abuse.  It didn't bother me. 
Georgina, however, was drop-dead gorgeous.  For all her bile, she
had the cutest ass, the smoothest skin, and the breasts of a
goddess.  Her face, screwed up with anger, was still amazingly
beautiful.

"Hey, Georgina, how's it going?" I said, materializing in the
kitchen door.  I was dressed in red silk, and had fashioned a
rather stylish little tail and some beautiful red horns.

"So there, you are!" she said, reaching for the shotgun.  But she
was trapped in an invisible cylinder about three feet in diameter
without cleaver or gun.  It wasn't that I as God was in any
danger of physical harm; she could have chopped me into tiny
pieces with her cleaver and it would have done her no good -- I
would simply have discarded that body a little earlier than
planned and created another one. But I didn't want any such
distraction.

"Magic tricks, eh!" she shrieked, pounding on the invisible
cylinder.  "You hunk of booger slime!"

From Godspace I simply sealed her lips and locked her vocal cords
in the "off" position where they could not vibrate.

"Georgina, I don't understand all this hatred.  I assure you that
your nieces both adore my attention.  They may be only 11 and 13,
but they are very horny girls and love me.  Quite healthy and
happy, too.

"I suppose I could do some of those bad things to you that you
threaten me with, but I don't feel the need.  I'm here with a
different purpose. Somehow your venomous soul got put in an
absolutely heavenly body, and I want it.  I plan to take it."

With that, Georgina within her cylinder felt her wrists being
tugged upwards and outward until she was hanging from them. Her
ankles were similarly bound and pulled to the sides.  Then the
cylinder ceased to exist.

I approached as she wriggled helplessly.  As I moved my head near
hers she shied back.  I simply immobilized it.

"So beautiful," I said, and began licking her cheek and her ear,
then ran both hands through her lustrous brown hair. I fondled
her neck.

"Let's see what we've got here," I said.  I pointed my finger at
the open neck of the shirt and lazily ran it down her chest in a
sinuous pattern.  Where my finger passed the cloth neatly parted,
while the skin remained untouched. Her bra showed through.  I
then ran my finger from the neck of her flannel shirt across the
shoulder past her armpit and down her side.  The cloth fell away
to reveal one cup of her white bra. I ran the finger from the top
of the cup down to the bottom, and the fabric spread to reveal
the breast itself. "Mmm, very nice," I said. With a few more deft
strokes her shirt and bra fell away in tatters, leaving her whole
naked top exposed.

The hatred in her eyes now had some fear blended with it. I
rubbed my hands all over her silky flesh, front and back, hefting
and squeezing each breast gently, then sucking on each nipple in
turn.  I was getting very hard in my red silky pants, and with a
flick of my mind I made the entire costume disappear.

Then there were her jeans. My finger traces reduced them to
tatters too. Instead of cutting away her panties I lifted the
waistband and looked down inside, then slid the other hand down
to cup her lovely soft mound and then slide below. "Soon, sweet
cunt, very soon," I whispered. Then I cut the panties away with a
couple deft strokes.

"I am very hot for you, dear Georgina." I sat on a chair with
twitching cock straight up.  "Come here, my dear." And with that,
her completely immobilized body lifted into the air. I beckoned
with my finger and it slowly approached. Through Godspace I
spread her legs wide apart and brought her pussy to the space six
inches above my cock. With one hand I spread her nether lips,
with the other I explored inside.

"Still not so wet, I see," I said. "We'll fix that." I then
started an intense vibration of her clit from Godspace and
watched her face closely.  "Here comes the wetness," I said,
feeling her pussy lips engorge and her thick secretions
accumulate. "I'm afraid you just have to feel some sexual
pleasure," I said, watching her face flush, much to her
consternation.

I then leaned back. "Here, kitty, kitty!" I said, beckoning.
"Come to daddy!" Her immobilized torso started sinking, and as I
held my cock straight up, her pussy lips met it. As she sank my
cock compressed her tissues momentarily before they gave way and
engulfed me with her hot slickness. Our pubic bones met before
she rose again, her hot pussy walls sliding along my cock to give
me great pleasure. "Good girl, now fuck me nice and slow," I
said, and her immobilized body rose and fell sinuously. I lay
back, closed my eyes and smiled as I felt her body fuck me.

After a couple minutes I wanted more. From Godspace I lifted her
off of me, then eased her body into a new position. I put her
face down on the table, my chopped effigy pressing into her
chest. But her magnificent butt was up in the air and her legs
spread wide. She was at just the right height for my purpose and
I burrowed myself up to the hilt in her cunt from behind. I had
had enough slow play and was up for some serious fucking,
grabbing her butt and digging my fingernails in a little when the
spirit moved me. I had fashioned my devil body to have quite a
thick and long cock, a little beyond the limits of what her cunt
had accommodated in the past. I liked the idea of bottoming out
in her pussy and feeling my tip press hard against her upper cunt
wall. So I began a vigorous fuck with exactly that motion.  Was
it also uncomfortable for her? Perhaps. It was no concern of
mine. I rutted away with animal lust and abandon, and then I felt
her pussy squeeze me rhythmically as her eyes got a dreamy,
faraway look.

"Oh, did you just come, Georgina? Wonderful!" I grunted and
started on my final approach of truly deep strokes that battered
her innards. With a flurry I finally unloaded myself up inside my
reluctant mate, shooting plenty of cum in a dozen shots. Before I
was half done the backwash had made a number of audible splats on
the floor.

I pulled out and sat down. "That was great, Georgina!  Very nice
piece of ass!" I twisted her around until we were face to face.
"You can expect me morning and night for some days, until I tire
of you. Did you find this a bit constraining and humiliating? I
could give you a little more freedom if you're nice to me."'

After a week of gradually easing her restraints she remained
silent and moaned her pleasure and orgasm as I took her in good
old missionary position. She never actually thanked me, and she
still cursed me under her breath when I wasn't with her, but I
had gotten what I wanted.

-----------------

There were several thousand women throughout the world who
received Georgina's treatment, gorgeous women who were especially
hostile to me. Most got their first fuck from me on that same
evening.

But 24 hours after my initial encounter with Georgina, I put out
another message for the world:

"I require that all females submit to my advances. Your bodies
belong to me, and you serve me by accepting my caresses
cheerfully."

I stopped cleaning up my cum after I inseminated sleeping girls
in the night. I wanted it to stay behind. The world was shocked
to learn how many tens of millions of young females were taking
it up the pussy while they slept.

The girls themselves had varied reactions. A large percentage
prayed for me to start doing it to them when they were awake.
They might still feel violated and degraded, but they wanted it
out in the open instead of hidden in the dark. A fair percentage
of them came to look forward to it. Others just tried not to
think about it, morning pussy cleanup just a routine job.

--------------------

I have spoken little of the men.

There were several reasons why men were more disturbed than women
by the appearance of God on Earth. They had in a sense ruled the
world before, and now they no longer did. Even though I used a
light touch, they knew they were in my power. The inability of
thousands to kill the girls they thought of as devil-possessed
was a clear sign.

I singled out girls and women as special and blessed, and made no
sign that I had any special place in my heart for men.

And I was a direct competitor to them sexually. Girls who would
otherwise have sought out the attentions of boys were quite
pleased with me. Instead of a nervous bumbling boy who came too
soon and then boasted of his conquest, they had a man tailored to
their fantasies, an expert lover who appeared the instant he was
called for and always brought them to exquisite sexual ecstasy.
The married men had far more reason than usual to fear that their
wives were having affairs -- they could conjure me up as a
perfect and perfectly discreet lover.

When I started taking girls and women against their will, that
was another serious blow.  The men could do nothing to protect
their womenfolk. Helplessness combined with rage made the rates
of attempted suicide soar among both genders. I always stopped
the women. Sometimes I let the men dispatch themselves, if they
seemed totally unsuited to their new world and had no hope of
reaching an accommodation.


-------------------------

Women had different reactions to the reality that I might appear
at any time and demand sexual access against their will.

Some found they liked my sexual attentions once they let
themselves relax. They had refused to accept my attentions before
because in their eyes it was immoral. With no choice in the
matter their conscience was at peace and they accepted the
pleasure their bodies received.

Others resigned themselves to their lot, reasonably content to
perform their conjugal duties with their new master.

Others hated being raped and never came to see it differently.
Some of those went so far as to try disfiguring themselves,
knowing that I didn't claim my right to sex with women I didn't
find attractive, but I never let a woman do that.

The young are more adaptable, and the teenagers were more likely
to accept my advances with enthusiasm.

-------------------

I kissed Gita's bindi while my hands slid under her sari. She was
a woman of 35 but still plenty sexy. She pretended to despise my
visits, because her husband certainly did. But alone in her
living room in the middle of the night, Sanjay out like a light
in the bedroom, she was quite different.  Her passion rose when
reassured that Sanjay would never know. He had never once tried
to give her pleasure, so any tender attention was a pleasant
surprise. Exquisite orgasmic pleasure was beyond her dreams. She
clutched me passionately as her orgasms shook her.

The girl Msizi slept in a pile of rags on a dirt floor. She was
on the thin side because her diet was not so good, but under
those rags was her sweet, gently curving nubile butt. On her
chest were her modest but attractive breasts. And when she lay on
her back and spread her legs, she had a cunt, I surged into it
and came as she did. It was a sweet interlude in her day, having
the handsome stranger fuck her so soundly, sending her to
orgasmic heights.

Sally was pretty seriously retarded, but she was pretty enough
and had sweet labia that unfolded to reveal the alluring wet tube
my cock loves to invade. Her clit engorged, pleasure built, and
her orgasms were the high point of her life.

Ms. Geraldine Foudreau sat in her corner office, concentrating as
always on the  complex reports that made her life so stressful --
and rewarding. As I appeared, she sighed. "Don't you have other
women you could fuck?" I told her that indeed I did but I wanted
her, and the matter was not up for discussion. Her career was all
well and good, but she had an alluring vagina tucked up under the
skirts of her power suits, and I needed to feel my cock slide
smoothly into it, with increasing roughness and depth until I
sprayed her CEO innards with sperm. Then she could get back to
her reports while cum seeped out onto her panties.

---------------------

Once a girl had her first period, her pussy was definitely of
interest to me. But before long some of the younger girls became
intriguing too. Those breasts that were just starting to press
outward were worth some serious fondling and sucking, even if the
lower parts of the girl could be left to mature.

But as time went on I found I had full-blown sexual feelings for
girls who hadn't begun to mature at all.  My interest in the
six-year-old Kerry had been sensual but not sexual in nature, but
that was no longer true. Now when I looked at a girl getting out
of the tub and drying herself off, the little smooth labia
themselves without a single pubic hair were exceedingly
attractive. The little bodies without a feminine curve in sight
aroused lust in me.

-----------------------

Angie's big sister Thelma was ten and boasted of how great it was
to have God visit her for lovey-dovey time when she went to bed.
Thelma made it clear in a less than polite manner that Angie was
too young for such things. Angie in turn had tried to sneak in to
take a peek at what went on at bedtime. Thousands of little
sisters had that same bright idea every day. They never
succeeded. Usually they found they were just terribly sleepy at
that point in the evening.

But the second time Angie decided to peek, I let her. In perfect
silence she watched me fondle her naked sister, heard our
passionate moans and saw our bodies tense and slap together more
and more urgently before relaxing.

Many little girls would have been grossed out to see their big
sister having sex, but not Angie. She was mystified but also
thrilled. She decided that whatever other people said, she was
not too little for that. She was one for me.

"God," said five-year-old Angie. "Would you come see me?"

I appeared immediately, and she giggled.

"Can we do what you do with Thelma?" she whispered with
excitement.

"I'd love that," I said. And with that she took her pajamas off.
I started with some child-style kisses to her lips, then licked
all down her front and up her arms, which she thought was fun. I
pressed my body against her, sniffed her hair and kissed her
neck, and ran my hands all over her. I also started a low-level
vibration on her clit from Godspace, knowing that you could
awaken sexuality in some girls that young with a very weak
vibration for a long time. I kissed her passionately in the
grown-up fashion and she responded. I licked down her body and
soon had her legs spread and my tongue at work on her immature
pussy. I spent a full 45 minutes fondling this delightful
creature in every way before I was ready to take the next step.
By then her little hips were wiggling.

Only then did I take off my briefs to reveal my remarkably small
but very hard penis. It was about the size of a piece of chalk.
Angie certainly wasn't burning with desire, but she was feeling
warm down there and entirely happy to find this man positioning
himself above her and aiming his little cock between her legs. I
snipped her little hymen from Godspace, ordered up some extra
lubrication and slid gently in, carefully watching her face. She
looked at me wide-eyed as I first slid in. I loved that reaction.

My penis was tiny, but the nerve endings were as sensitive as on
any man, and I thrust in earnest, relishing the caress of her
immature pussy tube as I pumped away with fast, small strokes.
She stopped giggling and felt a little pleasure herself. I let my
body run wild, poking up between the legs of this young girl, and
with one last inward thrust I gasped as I spurted gobs of semen
up inside her. I didn't hold back on the quantity just because my
dick was small. Her pussy was full after the second shot, and as
the other five shots surged out of my tip the semen surged right
back out of her onto her bed.

I lay beside her panting. She was amazed to feel so much goop
dripping out of her pussy. I cleaned it up from Godspace, though
I left a little bit deep inside her.

Then she began yawning. I helped her put her pajamas back on in
the normal way and tucked her in to sleep.

Angie had been wonderful, and I realized for the first time just
how much I craved the little ones in every way. Within seconds I
had a man's body approaching every willing little girl in bed
across the world -- but there weren't all that many of them, only
a few tens of thousands. Most I woke from a sound sleep, but they
were happy or at least content with the sweat of a man's body and
his urgent attentions right up inside her private place.

I wanted millions of others. That night and for days after I
appeared in the bedrooms of little girls as they slept. I kept
those girls asleep as I pawed and fondled and kissed them,
basking in their sweet young sexuality before painlessly snipping
their cherries and pumping their little pussies with my sperm.

--------------------

Stacy was five. She sat naked on her bed cross-legged so I could
appreciate the sight of her glorious girl slit. But I knelt in
front of her, straining to thrust my modest-sized cock out away
from my body -- it wanted to get *into* something. She held it
eagerly with her two hands and took the tip in her mouth, licking
away with enthusiasm. I lasted three minutes before ecstasy
struck and I shot a quarter cup of cum right into her mouth. She
wriggled in pleasure as she swallowed what tasted like sweet
syrup -- I had chosen banana that day. But despite its taste, it
was true semen, wriggling with millions of sperm.

--------------------

"What are you doing here?" asked seven-year-old Nona.

A boy of about four appeared before her. He put his hands on his
hips and gave her a stern and grown-up expression. "I want to
look up your dress!"

Nona giggled. "Why would I let you do that?"

"Because it's naughty and you'd like me to!"

She realized he was correct. "OK," she said, suddenly a little
shy.  She stood.

The little boy immediately knelt and bent forward to look up
under the patterned green dress at her white panties. But he
didn't just look.  He slid his hands up above her knee.

"I didn't say you could do that!" Nona said, but she didn't move.

The boy said nothing, but kept sliding up until his hands touched
her panties, then began stroking.  Nona shifted a little.

The boy kept one hand firmly cupped on her pussy and stood up,
her dress pushing up as he did.

"Now lie down on your bed!" the little guy commanded.

Nona did, not quite sure what was going on.

"Pull your panties down!" he commanded.

"No!" she said, hotly.

Suddenly the little guy broke out in a huge grin.  "Ah, c'mon,
it's very naughty, right! Think how very, very naughty!"

She was indeed feeling like being naughty, so with a thrill she
did. He made clear it was in fun, and it was like playing doctor,
at least a little.

He launched himself on her, giggling, "Naughty, naughty, Nona!"
But he was also fiddling with his hands, opening his fly, pulling
it out, pushing her dress out of the way, then nudging her legs
apart, all quite quickly.

Then she felt it poke her right on her privates, then amazingly
slide inside her body!

"You stop right now!" she said, but his hands gripped her hips.
She struggled but was unable to get a purchase to pull him off.
She felt his little thing surging in and out and in and out at a
furious clip, then heard the little boy moan, then he relaxed and
nothing was poking into her any more. And that was all there was
to it.

It had been scary there for a moment, but it had been very, very
naughty, she thought with excitement.

"Want me to come back tomorrow and we can be naughty again?" the
cheeky little guy asked.

"No, I do not!" Nona said, but she couldn't help smiling a
little.

The boy smiled too.


Hey -- I'll do anything to get some girl tail! I had arrived as a
nonthreatening small boy with a thin, pre-lubricated cock. I only
spurted a couple small pulses up her pussy, just enough to stay
and not leak out.

-------------------------

"Noooo!!!" wailed four-year-old Iris.   "I don't like it! ...
Leave me alone!"

Despite her protests, she knew not to fight me as I removed her
nightshirt. I started lustily fondling her body up and down. She
knew to spread her legs. I bent my face to her girly parts and
inhaled deeply of her pussy smell, then set to licking while the
girl cried softly. When I had had my fill of her sweetness and
was totally hard, I rose on my hands and knees above her, my cock
positioned right over her mouth.

"Just a little kiss, Iris," I said.

She pouted, then opened to take my tip inside. With her mouth
distended around a cock, she was absolutely gorgeous. I felt
exquisite pleasure and could have very happily filled her mouth
with cum, but as always I wanted to save my cum for her pussy. So
I lowered myself and pressed in. With my steely shaft enveloped
in her hot cunt, I began little strokes, then bigger ones.

She fixed me with her accusing, soulful eyes as I humped away in
the pussy tucked up in her cute little body. A couple minutes was
enough for me, then I surged deep, making her yelp, while my
loins convulsed and sprayed her little cunt with silvery seed. I
grinned and pulled out.

"Thanks, Iris, that was great," I panted.

"I hate you," she said, but she didn't complain as I helped her
back into her panties and nightshirt.

For some reason I wanted to leave enough cum in her so it stained
her panties as it oozed out.

If only she didn't look so amazingly gorgeous when she gave me
that accusing stare, moist round eyes and pretty little mouth.
Surely no one could be miserable and look that beautiful at the
same time?  It wasn't possible, was it? In any case, I wanted
her, so I took her.

---------------------

Three years earlier, I had fathered a dozen babies as a sort of
experiment. I knew who they were and watched them at all times,
just like I watched everyone else. I was curious about them but
didn't have an emotional reaction at first.  But when they turned
two, I felt a little twinge of pride. Why, these were flesh of my
flesh, even if it was flesh I had conjured up out of Godspace.

Now that I was having sex with girls and women against their
will, fewer girls were begging me to give them a baby. Still,
there were thousands, and now I decided to go ahead and give them
all what they wanted.

Another feeling crept in, however. I possessed gorgeous women all
the time, but then I let them consort with their husbands to
conceive the babies they wanted. That didn't seem right. I was
fucking them regularly, and the very purpose of fucking was to
make babies. Why shouldn't I be the father sometimes? After all,
I was God! I began impregnating the most beautiful women myself
when they wanted a baby, but before long I thought I ought to be
the one knocking up those who were just very attractive. That was
enough, I figured. But it was a slippery slope, and that desire
to impregnate became stronger and stronger.

As always in human history, some girls got pregnant without
meaning to, when they had unprotected sex during the middle of
their cycles. Instead of letting some lowly man or boy father the
unplanned baby, I decided I might as well be the one to start
those children as well.

Before long I was causing 80% of the pregnancies on Earth. But
who could think it anything but the highest honor to bear one of
God's children?

I wasn't sure just what influence my paternity would have on the
appearance of my children. Mostly they looked like they were
descended from the man whose body I had conjured up out of
Godspace -- I usually did make a man who was culturally
appropriate in pigmentation and features.

However, there was also a certain other quality in my sons and
daughters, a certain look around the eyes, a shape of the head, a
set of the shoulders. It gave a hint as to the existence of a
human self that would be truly me, if I knew how to create it --
an intriguing concept.

My desire to impregnate was joined by another sign of possession
and ownership. I got jealous. It made me angry to think of other
men and boys sullying the pussies of my girls with their sexual
organs and their semen. The girls were mine! So I made sex
between them impossible. The guys simply couldn't get their cocks
in. But then I found I was displeased with their kissing or
fondling my girls, so I prevented that too.

This was naturally disappointing to the men. Some ugly girls were
available, but most women were beyond their reach. They were like
nuns -- brides of God, but now in a very literal sense.

I started rubbing all the men's pricks from Godspace every night
to give them a wet dream. It was distasteful to me, but I found a
way to perform that routine manipulation without being aware of
it.  The men's unhappiness was dulled considerably by the nightly
satisfaction of their rawest physical desire.

-------------------------

I tried to wait until the girls and women had gone to bed for the
night. If I felt I needed to take a girl three times, I would do
it once at bedtime, once in the morning, and once in the middle
of the night. But always when they were in bed. That was the
plan.

But the problem was that since I am everywhere at once, seeing
everything, there was temptation all around me. It was hard to
resist.

---------------------

Kayla rolled her eyes and got up quietly from her seat, heading
for the door.

"Again?" asked Mrs. Templeton, the tenth-grade math teacher,
sighing.

Kayla shrugged. "It's not my idea," she muttered.

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Templeton murmured in reply.

Kayla had felt the vibrating at her clitoris, and she knew that
meant I wanted her. I had been looking at her in her light blue
dress, legs crossed, gorgeous face dreamy and smiling. Her
sizable breasts rose and fell just a little as she breathed. And
I needed to have her.

Ordinarily I would have guided her to one of the storage closets
or empty teacher offices, but at that particular time all of
those were occupied with other incarnations of myself making love
to other girls I had found irresistible.

Kayla felt herself nudged invisibly towards the girls' room.

"The girls' room?" she asked, irritably. But she sighed and went
in. I guided her from Godspace to a stall, and as she locked the
door behind her, I appeared as a man in it with her, enjoying the
close quarters.

Kayla was annoyed, but I had been stimulating her clitoris
strongly for the past two minutes and she was also very aroused
sexually.

"What should I do?" she asked with a mixture of lust and
exasperation.

"Kneel on the toilet seat."

"Really?"

"It's OK, there's more there than you think."

Sure enough, she could feel but not see a padded shelf at the
height of the toilet seat extending back to the wall. She knelt,
partly on the toilet seat and partly on the shelf, and reached
forward with her hands to assume the doggy position.

"Very good, sweet Kayla."

"You're a very dirty old man," she said. "Couldn't we at least
wait until I got home to do it again?"

"No, sweetie, I just had to have you. But maybe we could stop and
I could just let you go back to class," I teased.

"Not any more!" she said. Her juices had soaked through her
panties and a rivulet had just appeared below the hem of that
blue dress.

I pulled down my trousers to expose my hard cock, then lifted her
dress. It was always exciting to see those sexy thighs and butt
suddenly exposed as the innocent cloth rose out of the way. I
pulled down her panties and sidled up behind her.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, butt undulating slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, you prick! Fuck me!"

That was an invitation I couldn't ignore.  I slid up inside her,
my long, fat penis tailored to her deep, well-stretched cunt.

"Ohhh," she moaned and shuddered.

She was coming already. One reason Kayla was so irresistible was
that she came when a cock went into her and pretty much kept
coming for as long as it went back and forth. At night she could
just sleep off the exhaustion she felt after fifteen minutes of
continuous orgasm. But I figured she did need to be able to
concentrate a bit in class. So I took pity on the girl and didn't
wait long before sending my own male self into high gear,
thrusting my big cock deep and fast, over and over, into the hot
cunt that gripped it tightly. Her orgasm intensified, and in a
minute I gripped her butt strongly. As I rammed back and forth
high up her cunt, my cock tip lost its toilet training, so to
speak, and cum shot out over and over again, making a big mess in
her upper pussy, and within seconds it was too big a mess for the
pussy to hold so it came oozing back out. From Godspace I removed
the section of the invisible shelf that was underneath her twat,
and some of the blobs fell into the toilet, some onto the front
of the seat and some onto the floor.

When I pulled out, panting Kayla collapsed forward, upper torso
and head leaning on the invisible shelf I had created. After
appreciating the mess I had made for a few seconds I cleaned it
all up from Godspace, leaving a little cum deep inside her,
however. I pulled up her panties and smoothed her dress back down
and nudged her up from the invisible shelf.

"Time for class," I said gently. "You don't want to miss too
much."

She stood and leaned back against me while she regained her
equilibrium. My arms wrapped around her front gently. After a few
seconds she turned, gave a tired smile, and reached up with her
lips to give me a tender kiss.

"Now can you wait until I get home from school?" she asked.

The day's tally was pretty high already: Once when she woke up,
once in first period French, and now in fourth period Math, and I
thought I could wait until she got home from school.

"I'll try," I said a little sheepishly.

"Good," she said, shivering slightly as she shook off the last of
her orgasm in preparation for trying to learn some math.  I
disappeared as she opened the stall door.

==============================

I entered another phase. Some people might say I went crazy.  I
would just say I raised my appreciation of sexuality to a higher
level.

Watching the four beauties lounging on the beach side by side, I
tried to think when next I could coax them into a private
setting.  It would be hours!

Four of me appeared right by them, one for each.

Anne noticed someone was shading her body, so she opened her eyes
to look. She saw the man she usually saw in her bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've got to have you, Annie dear."

"Where?" She looked back and forth, seeing there was no private
spot anywhere within sight.

"Right here," I said.

"In public? Do you have a screw loose?'

"I'm not sure about that part, but... you won't be alone."

With that a hundred extra men appeared on the beach, all naked,
all with erections or cocks that rose rapidly. And amid a rising
hubbub, each man approached a different woman or girl, fondling,
pressing, working up to a mating. A hundred clitori were being
vibrated vigorously, a hundred pussies quickly engorging,
deepening, getting very wet.

"Everyone can see!" yelled out a distraught twelve-year-old.

"It's OK, said her teen version of me, "Everyone else is doing it
too."

And indeed, all the girls and women could see the orgy taking
shape on the beach.

The men on the beach were more shocked than the women, since they
had never before seen strange men appearing from nowhere to fuck
their wives and daughters. At night, they were always put into
that deep sleep when I visited their womenfolk. Now, many became
very angry, and I put those to sleep. A few lashed out at my
ardent men, but they landed no blows and were quickly restrained
from Godspace.

"Please, put him to sleep!" many a woman whispered urgently. Her
husband might not be acting hostile, but he was watching. She
didn't want to expose him to the humiliation of seeing his wife
fucked by another man in the plain view of hundreds. Most of the
women knew that under the influence of my perfectly tailored
caress they were probably going to come, which would add insult
to injury. So I shrugged my virtual shoulders and just knocked
most of the men out while I took my ardent pleasure.

I recognized no age limit. There were some young girls on the
beach, too, and I made men or boys for them as well to repeat the
intimate activity that they had previously experienced only at
night.

The sound track on the beach was an interesting mix. There were
many low-pitched grunts, sighs, and moans as my many incarnations
got more and more excited. Similar sounds of a higher pitch
marked the women's pleasure. There was relatively little of that,
however, as the women were feeling less pleasure than usual,
anxious about having sex in this new, very public environment.
They were also less inclined than usual to give voice to whatever
pleasure they were feeling. Some women cussed and swore, and a
few cried.  Several of the girls whined, cried, or sniffled. But
a bit like popcorn popping, each of my bodies came, one after
another, and each made a point of making a loud, proud noise to
mark that ecstasy.

If not one beach, why not a thousand?  If a beach, why not a
school or an airport? Why any limits at all?

---------------------

Thousands were watching the big game. It was fourth and goal to
go. But suddenly a wave of sound rose up from the stands.

I saw every woman's butt in her shorts, every breast in its bra,
every sweet face. And up and down the stands, I decided I wanted
them, and I didn't want to wait. So thousands of me appeared,
each intent on getting into the pants of one particular woman or
girl. I simply immobilized all the men as a precaution, but no
longer felt any need to knock them out. Space was tight so it
took some doing for the females to get their shorts and panties
down or dresses hitched up. When it took too long I just solved
the problem with a rip of cloth from Godspace. Many were less
cooperative than usual, for some reason, and I needed to restrain
them as well as the men. There was also the matter of getting
enough space for a good fuck. Often the best I could do was to
lean the woman over her immobilized husband's lap and take her
from the rear.  I could also just sit her in her husband's lap,
though her butt had to be right up on his knees so her pussy was
accessible enough to fuck.

Feeling so many of me in such close proximity lent a certain
urgency and excitement to the occasion. I didn't get it all
synchronized, but I worked up to simultaneous orgasms for dozens
of me at once -- two hundred in my best effort. A sudden burst of
roar, moan, or shouted expletive indicated another couple dozen
pussies shot deep with a load of sperm -- another score, you
might say, to make a lame human joke. It wasn't the most
comfortable place to linger, so the men disappeared back into
Godspace shortly after coming.

-------------------

For some reason, the number of people who thought I was God
dropped precipitously, and those viewing me as the devil grew in
numbers and strength of conviction.

What turned these misguided people against me even more than the
football stadium was the scene at the elementary schools,
replayed over and over around the world.

The second grade teacher was immobilized, but she nonetheless saw
what happened. Most of the girls were suddenly attended by a
pedophile who set about molesting her.  The teacher saw the
skirts go up and the jeans go down, then the panties move too,
but they went in one direction only: down. She saw many girls
take a man's cock in her mouth. One man wanked himself and shot
an amazing amount of cum all over the girl's face and hair and
chest and little pussy. But most of the men ended up with their
hips aligned with the girl's hips, centered, then each cock
approached that central spot between the girl's legs, and then it
surged up out of sight inside her. The teacher saw men's butts
contorting rhythmically, faster and faster, as they drove the
associated penis in and out of each little girl's pussy. Some of
the girls smiled, giggled, and joked, excited to be doing this
sexy stuff in public. Others just looked resigned and bored. A
few fought back tears or cried out. But the teacher noted that
none of them looked truly shocked, because all of them had been
molested and fucked many, many times before.

--------------------

I tried, honestly I did. I tried to let a family finish a meal
together before taking the mother and her twelve- and
seven-year-old daughters. I tried to let the whole class finish
taking the test. I tried to stay away from women while they were
driving. I tried and almost always succeeded in leaving the
females alone during funerals.

The problem with being everywhere at once, seeing everything, is
that a lot of what I saw was luscious femininity. And being a God
in close touch with his sexuality, it was hard to resist. There
was no one to stop me! And, come to think of it, that is
certainly right and just, because I am God.

No attractive female headed into the shower or tub was likely to
make it without at least a brief delay to get fucked. One load of
cum at bedtime and another before rising for the day was almost a
rule.

--------------------------

There were only about two million of them in the entire world,
not all that many in proportion to the population. They were the
girls who were just too stunningly attractive to resist.

Marlene lay in bed, and it was already well past her bedtime. As
soon as I finished ejaculating inside her and pulled out, her
sexy body renewed my interest. While the one man recovered from
his orgasm, another appeared out of Godspace to fondle and kiss
gorgeous Marlene, and lust soon led him to drive into her pussy,
not many minutes after the first had finished. After a while the
exhausted Marlene fell asleep, but my hunger knew no rest.
Whenever a man withdrew to rest his loins and savor his conquest,
I in Godspace saw her body lying there, unbelievably sexy, with
an empty pussy. I needed to fill it! So another man materialized
to satisfy that urge.

I tried to leave her alone long enough to finish a meal, but it
was hard. Sometimes I just had to get her in doggy position and
hump her once more while she chewed her food.

It was easy enough to give her time to pee, but both constipation
and diarrhea tried my patience. Fortunately I could control those
from Godspace to some extent and I also made sure she ate a diet
with plenty of fiber.

Ordinarily on the old Earth a girl getting that much sexual
attention would get a very sore vagina, but I had my ways of
keeping her healthy. Some I could do straight from Godspace, and
it helped to make sure that the lubrication was always just
right.

There wasn't much point in Marlene going to school, but she could
listen to music or watch TV. She could have friends, though her
lifestyle put a crimp on ordinary friendships. She could become
fast friends with another girl in the same position, playing and
sharing confidences as they both got fucked endlessly.

It was certainly a peculiar life. But she was in no pain, and I
wasn't trying to make her feel bad. And my attraction to Marlene
first went over that line to a constant need for fulfillment when
she turned six; it is always easier to adjust to something
unusual when it starts early in life.

But while there were only a couple million who I couldn't leave
alone for long with an empty pussy, there were a hundred times as
many girls who were so sexy that I couldn't let them just sleep.
When the face grows slack, the breath makes the breast -- or flat
chest -- rise and fall gently, beneath the soft fabric, I am
moved. Below, something is always on top: a pelvis with a mound
in front, a hip rising sexily above a leg that is always bent a
little, or two sexy buttocks, big or small. Whatever it is, I am
moved. And when I am sufficiently moved, I materialize and free
the girl's body from her clothing. I kiss and lick and rub
unfettered by any instinct for moderation, then work my cock up
her cunt and fuck with abandon. During the day, I can control
myself with those girls, but at night -- well, I make sure those
girls and their families get a very sound night's sleep.

-------------------------

The little girl finished brushing her wavy brown hair, clipped on
a pink barrette, and smiled at herself in the mirror. I
materialized behind her and enveloped her in my arms from the
rear. Did I detect a trace of disappointment in her face?
Perhaps, but she knew what to do. She held her shirt out from her
body so I could slide my hands up underneath to feel the little
nipples in her flat chest. When she knew I had had enough of
that, she gamely lay back on the bed after pulling down pants and
panties. She tolerantly smiled while I washed her face with my
tongue, and then she smiled pleasantly as I fucked her for five
minutes. She gave a big smile when she felt me surge and heard my
orgasmic moan. With that interlude over, she could be off to her
next activity. It was no more than fifteen minutes out of her
day.

-------------------------

Her legs were long and thin, and with that black dress that went
to just above her knee she was already quite attractive. As she
strolled through the park, a breeze stirred her hair and ruffled
her dress. That was the extra spark that made me have to have
her. She lay down on a soft mattress that I made appear just for
the purpose and spread those thin legs just for me. I just
snipped her panties from Godspace while cupping her breast
through dress and bra. A brief exploration with my hand between
her legs to touch soft, moist hair was very exciting. I surged up
inside her and came within seconds. Sometimes I just needed to do
it that way.

As with all these girls, I reassembled her clothing for her when
I was done!

---------------------------

Kate was quite the little minx. She was seven, blonde and sported
just a little extra flesh. She had been happily accepting my
attentions since she was four. She didn't have much of a sexual
response, but she didn't care. She just loved the touch, the
attention, the intimate encounter with a warm fleshy prong up her
pussy. As a result, she was always doing little flirtatious
things throughout the day, hoping she would catch my fancy.  And
she did! As one example, she wore a lovely purple dress with no
panties and sat on a swing in what was close to a lotus position.
She got herself swinging with arms and body alone. The wind
generated from the swinging flipped her dress up and down,
exposing her pussy now and then. I appeared in front of her
naked, little cock eager and twitching. "I thought you'd never
come!" she smiled, as I brought the swing to a slow stop. I put
my hands under her arms to lift her off the swing and brought her
front to mine, up high. Then I set her straight down on me. My
cock surged up her pussy as we stood. She wrapped her legs around
behind me and we kissed passionately.

---------------------------

Lisa and Laura were best friends, and both cute little darlings.
At age seven one of their favorite after-school games was to
strip naked and lie side by side on the bed, legs spread wide.
"Dear God, will you please come see me?" they prayed. I never
kept them waiting long -- I am never too busy. I materialized as
different people each time, to keep things exciting for them. The
people were always male, and they always had hard cocks that
somehow ended up inside the little girls' pussies.


======================

Despite all the sex I was engaging in, life continued much as it
had before. Half the species are men and boys, and their lives
were not really affected. True, the men were demoralized by
rarely fathering any children and having to compete with other
men for the attentions of a few ugly women if they wanted sex. 
There was plenty of porn available.

But there is more to life than fatherhood. True, fewer people got
married , as sexual relations were impossible.

Life was also largely unchanged for women over age forty. I would
visit some of them occasionally, but not often. Women over 50
were untroubled by me. I left the unattractive women alone.
Although my tastes got more catholic as the years passed, there
were always about 20% I just had no interest in.

Land was farmed, goods were made and shipped, and financial
markets rose and fell. People danced and attended rodeos and the
Indy 500. Pop stars went up the charts and back down, and Reality
TV gripped its viewers. The internet continued to expand and
diversify and evolve, occupying an ever-greater share of people's
time and attention. In an ever-shrinking high culture arena, art,
music, and theater continued as ever.

In many ways, life was better. Wars ceased. Dictators fell and
corruption gradually waned. With peace and stability, starvation
disappeared as well.  Many were desperately poor, but fewer than
before.

You see, I worried less and less about making the world a boring
place. Peace and stability meant more happy and attractive girls
for me to fuck. And  satisfying that need overshadowed concerns
about boredom.

================================

I had a vision. In this vision I stopped blocking the cervixes of
all my young women and let my sperm wriggle in, impregnating them
in huge numbers. I disabled all the sperm with Y chromosomes, so
all the babies were girls. As they reached that magic age of
four, they constituted a whole new crop of girls to molest, which
was exciting because there are just never enough little girls on
Earth, and they don't stay little for long. In my vision, I kept
the little girls pouring out of wombs in a veritable flood, and
as they grew by the millions my lust was satisfied more
spectacularly than ever. It deepened and I needed more.

In my vision, my crop of girls strained the food supply, which
led me to find savings on the demand side.

I "accidentally" made a small slip-up from Godspace in the
brainstems of the males, severing some key nerves and soon
ridding the world of them. Women whose bellies no longer produced
young girls were superfluous and a similar slip-up could save the
food they were eating. Ugly girls weren't needed either, nor were
the wombs of ugly women. Lust out of control, I couldn't stop
making little girls to molest and fuck constantly as they grew.

And then when the population was 40 billion and my
ever-more-strenuous efforts from Godspace to feed them all failed
-- then in my vision they mostly all starved to death. In my
desperation I tried in vain to find a way to kill myself to stop
my anguish.

So it remained a vision, and will for all time -- I hope.

------------------------

A billion plus beautiful females to fuck any time of day or night
-- that is a great deal to be thankful for.  There are a great
many fucks that happen in bed: the usual bedtime and morning
inseminations and all those between while girls sleep. There are
the ones during the day, where the slightest alluring detail will
awaken yet another instance of my sexual urgency, making me
create a man carrying that urgency on a human scale and
satisfying it with a copious dose of sperm up her pussy.

A young girl emerging from the bath humming a cheerful tune is
suddenly no longer alone in the bath and will have to wait a few
minutes before she can towel dry.

Breasts that jiggle beneath a white blouse as a brunette shows a
little spring in her step -- a brief detour to the bushes is
called for, where those breasts can be eagerly sucked and the
pussy below exposed, aroused to desire, and filled to the
satisfaction of both parties.

From one side of the inside of the toilet bowl, I see a twat
descend and lips spread enough to allow a flood of urine. The
flood slows to a trickle, then some drips, and a hand with toilet
paper quickly dabs. But as she rises, a man stops her before her
panties are quite all the way up. Pushing her gently back down on
the seat, he splits those same pussy lips with a huge shaft.
Within seconds, the shaft pumps shot after shot of semen up high
-- as he continues to thrust wildly, semen surges back between
those lips and into the toilet, ultimately more than the amount
of urine she just let loose.

A little one practicing "W" sitting as she plays, pressing her
panties flat against the floor -- the "W" sitting must be
replaced by a prone "Y" configuration for a few minutes while my
desire is satisfied.

A soccer team of 12-year-olds stands, sweaty from exertion,
breasts moist and heaving within training bras under matching
purple athletic shirts. To my ever-present eye, thighs disappear
up beneath athletic shorts, just begging for an answer to the
question:  What lies above? The whole team -- both teams! -- must
take a divinely mandated time-out while I investigate personally
what is up higher between those thighs -- then explore higher
still within each girl's body, where I mark my deepest
penetration with a mass of white, sticky daddy-stuff.

Girls suddenly stop as they walk and whisper, "Please, God, fuck
me!" Wherever they are, in public or private, I appear to caress
and fondle, but always end by finding or creating a place to
support their buttocks. Whether horizontal or vertical, I push
those buttocks back firmly as I pound my custom-fashioned cock up
their pussies. There are millions of these girls, all the time,
as they remember fondly the last time they were satisfied in
every respect with intimate male presence, wet vagina stretched
deliciously by cock, wet vagina suddenly getting much wetter with
semen spurts as throbbing mutual orgasm signifies complete
feminine fulfillment.

God is highly pleased as well.

 
==============================
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