Primal Ceremony [FM, Hedonistic)

“We just think you’d be happier there,” said my mother, my father standing next to her, looking anywhere but at me. It was an awkward subject.

“They have a ceremony there, they’re really interesting people…” She trailed off.

There’s no good way to say “you’ve fucked most of the village so we’re sending you away” but I understood what she meant. And after all, I was being sent to a tribe known for their hedonistic ways. I was bound to enjoy it, right? Elders would often blush when describing their behavior at clan meet ups. I was a bit nervous, but I felt that familiar pull at my core—the primal urge that led me to this situation.

It was a six day journey. I spent my time observing my new people. It was a small group. Two were lean and supple, their muscles rippling beneath chestnut colored skin. Another was stout, more barrel chested, and obviously strong. The women were thick, with muscular thighs and soft, full breasts. We exchanged glances, curious. They were much more blatant with their gaze. I would blush and look away, but they would hold steady.

Modesty was a non issue, They dressed and undressed at will, they were often pleased to shake their cocks at each other.

Before entering the camp, the chief insisted I ride in first, explaining it was customary for women to ride through the camp for all to see. I could see a hint of arousal as he said:

“I understand, things different from home. You can be naked, if you like. For everyone. For the ceremony. Men, women. They will see, then they will come. For pleasure, to see what you like.”

I’d heard the ceremony mentioned a few times during the ride. I understood it was to honor newcomers, especially women. It was all about pleasure, and the tribe shaman would act as witness.

I wasn’t sure about being watched—I wasn’t entirely sure about the ceremony. They said it was my choice, the stout man chuckled when I said I was nervous the previous night at the campfire. “Nervous to cum?” his eyes danced.

The chief gestured once more for me to remove my clothes, and I obliged. He helped me onto my horse, his hands lingering as I took my place.

The riding blanket was rough against my lips, but my attention was on the group around me. My nipples puckered against the stiff breeze, and I could feel all eyes on me. My skin was pale—nudity was an uncommon practice at home.

The chief led me into the camp, weaving through tents and around fires. The tribe must have numbered around 80 members, many housed in a large cave at the edge of the meadow. Most of them were looking up at me, many men becoming visibly erect beneath their loin clothes. I was surprised to find the riding blanket getting wet.

I noticed a few people lifting one hand in the air, fingers splayed, waving back and forth. Then more hands. The stout man who joined me on my journey was one of them. He was close enough that I could reach out and touch him. I noticed he was erect, too.

“They welcome you, and many are eager to join the ceremony. Rest, eat, and we will meet at the tent across the meadow. No need to get dressed.”

The tent was sheer, the material reflected the light softly. The tent encircled a small fresh water spring and a large plush bedroll. Outside the tent a handful of men and a few woman milled around, murmuring. Many were coated in extravagant body paint, others wearing soft furs.

The shaman led me into the tent, offering me water from the spring. He told me to lie down on the bed roll. He knelt next to me.

“This is about you—you say when, you say no, you say more or none, they want to please you.”

He brushed a light blue powder over my body, and said something in another language before leaving the tent.

I saw his shadow quite clearly outside, and with enough effort I could make out part of what he said. He pointed to a tall, lean man. The man walked towards the tent, and for just a second I wasn’t sure if this was what I wanted.

Then he came in, completely naked, fully erect.

“Are you ready?
“Yes-“

He was immediately on top of me, kissing me everywhere. He wasted no time. I swallowed the lump in my throat, my anxiety turned to ecstasy as his fingers found my clit. The blue powder clung to his skin, and his long hair tangled and hung down as he licked my chest. My breath quickened, and I struggled to hold back a moan.

He stopped in an instant, “Is this good? Ready?””

“Yes, I’m trying to be quiet”

“No, don’t. They are here for this,” he gestured towards the tent wall, where the shadows of the group outside shook in the wind. More than a few were obviously male, more than a few were obviously males stroking themselves, their bodies turned towards my silhouette.

He brought his tongue to my clit, and I did not hold back this time. I yelled, arching my back as his fingers entered me.

My resolve broke, my pussy convulsing around his fingers. He sucked my clit as I shook.

As I came down, I felt guilty for finishing so fast.

“No-“ he cut me off with a hard kiss.

“Not over” he said as he flipped me over onto my stomach. I shuddered as he shoved his cock into me, slick and fast. My breath caught as he bucked into me wildly. I came on his cock as he bit my shoulder; I felt our cum pool under me.

We lay there for a few long moments before the man left. The shaman came to hand me water. He was erect, but made no comment. He handed me a cloth to clean myself, and asked when I might feel ready for the next.

My lips were pulsing, still coming down from the recent attention. “Send another in.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cyk9ga/primal_ceremony_fm_hedonistic