Goddess, not her real name but adopted for the role, listened with satisfaction to the thumps and groans issuing from the sleeping compartments in the big motor home. This was the favorite part of the evening for their three daughter-priestesses. The stuff their dad preached was boring after hearing it so many times.

Angelica was twenty, Beauty was eighteen, and Comely had just turned sixteen so it was her first tour. The older ones were veterans, touring each summer since they became of age to build a bank account for college or other life goal.

Their role was to “pray” with the night’s worshippers, inspired by the Preacher’s words and the gradually revealed bounteous blessings of the lovely woman who was his wife and the mother of the young women currently paired up with male congregants. More were waiting or were given appointments for later. Who they would spend time with, how long, and the type of prayer depended a lot on the value of the love offering. If it reached a special level, the Goddess herself would join in to reach the highest peaks of worship.

This was one of their best stops. It was a prosperous community and the interest in their belief system had increased with each visit. Better locations might get monthly programs. The addition of Comely was needed to keep up with the increasing prayer needs of eager worshippers, some of whom returned the second night as well, usually choosing a different prayer partner. She had been practicing prayer techniques under her mother’s guidance for a couple of years with near-age and legal prayer partners. Since her birthday two months before the tour started, she had gathered a lot of experience with older and much more skilled deacons. An avid student like her older sisters, she was delighted to learn new techniques of prayer and practiced eagerly.

Reverend and Goddess were scrupulous in knowing and following the law. Fully registered with ordination certificates for each family member, their lawyer gave due diligence to reviewing their theology and activities, no doubt highly motivated by Goddess’ abundant spiritual attributes whose conveyance was part of his fee. His wife, like many, paled in comparison to Goddess, not just in the beauty of the blessings but the devotion with which they were shared.

All three girls bore a strong resemblance to their voluptuous mother. When Comely appeared nude, as she preferred to pray, escorting a smiling and now “uplifted” prayer partner, she was easily recognizable by her red hair. Goddess texted the next man on Comely’s list who was lounging and enjoying some blessed-by-fermentation beverage or other provided in the tent next the vehicle. He eagerly came up the steps and was greeted by a kiss, then led back to the last room. Doors were left ajar so the Goddess could monitor activities and because it inspired the other congregants to reach their spiritual “peaks” more quickly, thus keeping on schedule.

Angelica was blond-haired like her mother but cut shorter than Goddess’ long tresses. Beauty had medium length dark hair. All of them had pubic hair because it was natural but kept it neatly trimmed and easier to cleanse of the pearly love-lotion which often exuded from their temples.

All monetary love offerings and donations were processed by Goddess. Having a credit card reader on her tablet made big difference in the size of donations when the worshippers realized the value of supplemental prayers. All donations were kept confidential and she would not reveal them to me, the author of this article.

What was being revealed to me was the spiritual experience this ministry provided to men who did not attend more conventional churches but had needs just like almost everybody else. The theology, not presented with that formal and intimidating title of course, was based on deep roots in many cultures, celebrating life and abundance. Preacher could, and did, discuss the many ways that women were honored in such civilizations, raising consciousness of their value in the whole web of life. As he explained just how much the attraction to the female form was built into our bones, Goddess and the daughters would illustrate his points by revealing the relevant parts they possessed, passing down the aisles so the congregants didn’t have to strain their vision.

After discussing how the male-female union, if done with proper spiritual perspective, is a path to personal growth, he offered the assistance of the young women who were with him, and even the possibility of help from the Goddess herself. A love offering basket would be passed for those who could not stay, but those who wished for personal fulfillment tonight needed to speak to the Reverend or the Goddess at the conclusion of this portion of worship. Their iPads were synched so prayer partner availability was instantly updated.

The Goddess had promised me a prayer experience when the donors had been prayed with. I could have my choice too. Goddess made it clear that praying was confidential so my wife would only know if I revealed it to her. Having never been unencumbered by clothing with a redhead, I chose their newest assistant. As I had observed, she had already prayed with a half-dozen donors but was still full of spiritual energy.

It was an amazing experience, a blur of thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations, surpassing what I thought was good sex with my wife of five years, and any of the several women I had been fully intimate with before her. And only sixteen years old! Maybe there really was something to the spiritual “shit” I had considered this to be. I had some mild trepidation about the Goddess’ offer to pray with me at the end of the time here.

When the tent was packed in the trailer behind the large RV and they were almost ready to depart, Goddess said she’d like to have a final prayer with me. There had only been one donation at her level, which I surmised was four digits, and she felt unfulfilled. Reverend was older than she and his prayer sessions were less frequent and enthusiastic than when the daughters were conceived. Her soul was strong and seeking the glory though.

Her maternal mounds were still quite firm and did not move around unduly in spite of their truly classic size and shape. I observed this as I explored them in a variety of positions. There was no clock running ... this was for her too. We thoroughly acquainted our various body parts to form a more perfect union of spirit before I entered the temple of love that had created my prayer partner of the previous night. Again, words cannot describe the experience.

When we had reached the destination of our journey to fulfillment, we were joined by the Reverend who quickly joined in blessed union with his wife, enjoying my male gift left inside her and soon adding his own.

She awoke me in the night, since we all stayed in their bed, for more communion.

I bid them a very fond adieu and would send them a draft of my writings to check for accuracy.

My dear wife Peggy was very interested in my experience, having a bit of orientation from the research that led to this interview trip. Our welcome-home screw was good for her, but my perspective had really changed. The love between us made it good though.

As I wrote about this “spiritual” experience, my erection kept popping up. Darling wife noticed my increased amorousness and wondered what had happened. How to tell her I’d had the best sex of my life and it wasn’t with her?

Finally, my article was finished and I had her proofread it as usual. As you have already read, I’d been pretty open about my experiences. Into my second bourbon on ice when she finished editing, I waited on our back porch, the gate in the yard giving me an escape path.

I was stunned, happily, when she joined me naked and gave me a deep and hot kiss, the like of which had been happening less and less since our honeymoon. Her first words were, “Get naked with me, my dear husband!” Those weren’t fighting words and I jumped up to comply.

As she sat on my quickly erect cock, she grinned as she said, “I guess I should be honored that a Goddess has prayed with you. Now that you know what that is like, you must see to it that I become a spiritual prayer-giver like the women you wrote about and prayed with. I’ve spent all my life with an incomplete and incorrect idea about men and women joining. Now I see what I have missed and that needs to be fixed.”

We coupled repeatedly that night and through the next day, eager for each other and talking a lot. She was ready for an expansion of her experiences, and I could look forward to a sudden growth in her sexuality that I would assuredly benefit from.

The biggest undecidedness was how this could come about. I had no ideas. Would she want to screw friends and neighbors? That would be just sluttiness and not in the theme we were working on. She suggested we meet with Reverend and Goddess.

They were less than a day’s drive away, overnighting on the way to their next location, and were pleased to hear from me. Of course they would offer counseling.

When we got there, enjoying the single-barrel bourbon I’d brought, these spiritual leaders said they’d heard our story many times. They had started out in a similar situation twenty-five years ago. When the Reverend, who was a used car salesman at the time, was found giving special discounts to female customers, Goddess knew they had to make a change. She was smart enough to realize how men worked and how they could be reached. It was her brains and determination that created this ministry which touched hundreds of lives and netted seven figures in support. We’d been sworn to confidentiality before she revealed this to us, being very pleased how my article put them in a positive light.

She then grilled us, expertly exposing things we had never even talked about as a couple. My sexual experience was not extensive, and my wife’s, even less so. She made the point, “You can’t be any good at anything, without plenty of practice. My youngest daughter has probably already had more experience having sex than you have after five years of marriage. The solution is simple.”

My wife protested, “But I’m married!”

Goddess looked at her, and with Preacher nodding, said, “You need to be joined with more and different men. Then you’ll learn how to do it even better with your husband. It won’t hurt your sacred parts a bit, only make the experience better for him. I’m living proof of that as your husband can attest!” Preacher said, “Amen!”

Since they were going into a busy fall time and Comely had to go back to high school, my wife was offered the chance to take her place. I was also offered a job doing the scheduling so Goddess could work on developing contributions.

The next venue was small so my wife’s first training was slow-paced. My thoughts, emotions, and testicles were in an uproar as I assigned Angelica her first prayer partner. My wife would accompany them for orientation. She smiled at me as they returned for their next. I wouldn’t know anything more until later. Then the third and they were finished.

She came to me in a robe and we went back to the room she had been assigned to. Knowing I was bursting with curiosity, she closed the door and took off her robe as I undressed. She spoke softly, “Angelica showed me how she prayed with the first two and then I did the last one. It was awkward but he seemed happy. She said I did OK. I need you in me now. I have a million feelings but mostly need to know you still love me.”

As I thrust in the love-seed of her recent partner, a brand-new experience for both of us, I told her over and over how proud and blessed I was. She relaxed and orgasmed, something he had not gotten her to do. She was worried I would think she was “soiled”, a concept from her older church days. I reassured her, by staying and continuing to pleasure her, that she was now more truly female than I had ever experienced her to be.

“Nature and God formed you to be a wonderful receptacle of male seed. Exercising that ability in any way not harmful to others is a blessing, as the Reverend says. You feel exciting to me, more so than when we have coupled at home in our safe and ordinary bed. Is that bad?”

She sobbed in my arms, “I feel wicked and thrilled at the same time. It was something I cannot describe to feel the first other man touch my body inside and out since we wed. As you know, no one else had ever put their maleness inside me. I hope you do not think badly of me when I say I am eager for more.”