Worshipping Mary Ch. 01

CAUTION: If you are a religious Christian, please refrain from reading this story. Potentially offensive content ahead.

I.

I was on my way across a field on a sunny summer's day, on my way to visit a friend a few miles outside the city. Suddenly, as I was about to enter a small forest, I was surprised to see something at the corner of my eye, standing at the edge of the path, under a tree.

At first, my eyes didn't quite understand what it was, because it was a mixture of bright light and a mirror reflecting the sun.

A lady, I saw then, was all it was. A beautiful lady, probably in her late thirties or early forties. She was dressed in a long white gown and had some sort of blue blanket or cape around her shoulders.

On her head was a veil, also white, that curled up at her shoulders and revealed a corner of dark hair on the front of her scalp, and some curls at the sides of her head, where it had no coverage.

I didn't know whether I should approach her, but she was right there, blocking my path, and going around her would not be easy, because the vegetation around was thick and tall.

As I got closer to her I noticed she was incredibly beautiful, and her friendly expression revealed that she clearly meant me no harm.

The way she was dressed reminded me of something I had seen before, but I didn't know what. Then, to my surprise, she addressed me:

-I know where you are going, Marcela.

-How do you know my name, ma'am? –I asked in disbelief.

-I have always known you, and it was meant to be that we meet today.

-Who are you? –I asked.

- You can call me Mary. There is much more to me that you haven't been taught, though, but it's no use explaining now.

She smiled and I stared into her beautiful eyes. I didn't know if they were hazel or green, but they were gorgeous eyes.

Her eyes, combined with her un-kept very black eyebrows, long eyelashes, and golden-white skin, made her seem like someone come from far away, some Arabian country, or somewhere in the Mediterranean. Her accent also sounded sexy and foreign to me.

-Why are we meant to be here today? –I asked, a little freaked out.

-I know where you are headed. –She responded- You're on your way to your friend Telma's house for wrong-doing. Don't do it, I warn you.

I didn't know how she knew, but she was right. Telma and I had kissed that day for the fifth time and I was one very confused girl. After kissing me, she had told me to come over after the lecture to do "fun, lezzy stuff" with her at her flat.

I was a bit nervous about it, but I was quite into the idea. I had always wanted to be with a woman sexually, and this strange lady seemed to know everything about it. How could that be?

-How do you know all this about me, Mary? –I asked in amazement.

-Because I love you and I want you to do the right thing. You're headed down a very wrong path. -she replied.

I must have smiled mischievously as I gazed at her while she spoke. She was much more beautiful than Telma, and her beauty was becoming more and more irresistible to me.

I stood there and said nothing as she waited for a reply on my part. Soon I couldn't help myself anymore; she was so beautiful, that I slowly walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. I kissed her on the cheek because she turned her head in time to avoid me kissing her on the mouth.

-Please don't do that. –she said. –I am not authorised to have any physical contact, let alone kissing someone!

I took one step backwards, respecting her wish, and then it hit me. I realised who she was, and all made perfect sense. Everything about her was combined in perfect harmony to define her: her physical beauty, her kindness, her aversion to physical contact.

Not all paintings I had ever seen of her were accurate, but I recognised her to be indeed Mary, the Virgin, the saintly and holy, the blessed and revered. Human, and still the most heavenly of the heavenly among women.

My lesbian desires knew no faith and understood no sin, and I started to want her very badly. Sinful as it may be, I was stunned by her beauty, and that got the better of me.

Disobedient to her wish, I took her hand and stared into her eyes, then I kissed her on the cheek again. She gave me a slightly displeased look and pulled delicately away, but I held her hand firmly and pulled her back towards me.

Her look was powerful, beautiful, and firm. She was displeased. Somehow, I soon couldn't take the power of her eyes anymore, so I fell to my knees, looking downwards at her feet, not daring to look up at her face again.

The bottom of her gown touched the top of her feet and covered her ankles. Her sandals were rustic and simple, her feet were not delicate, but still beautiful. I kissed them without her permission as I mumbled an apology to her.

I kept kissing her feet and her sandals, but she said nothing, nor did she try to leave or pull back, which surprised me. So I kissed more, then I slowly moved towards her ankles and I kissed them too.

Her gown in my hands, I bravely and boldly made my way slowly upwards, kissing the front of her legs, which were very hairless and surprisingly soft.

-Oh Mary! –I cried in a passionate whisper. –I've never known you, I've never prayed to you, and I never met you until now, but I praise and love you so much already!

-That pleases me. –She responded in a voice a bit more timid than before. –But please, Marcela, stop kissing me like that, I'm not supposed to be doing this... I was only supposed to warn you against the temptations of what you were about to do. Now you're doing that with me...

I heard every word, I even nodded in approval at her words, but my hands kept sliding upwards along her legs, and raising her robes, and my mouth kept kissing the skin of her naked legs, up, up up.

I couldn't stop myself from worshipping such a beautiful creature, such an immaculate Beauty, I couldn't. She was too perfect. The stories about her Beauty were true.

At any moment, I knew, she would correct me. At any moment she could slap me, smack me, push me away, or something.

But nothing happened, and as I kept raising her robes to kiss more of her I realised soon there would be no more leg left to kiss, not much more gown left to lift before I could finally see the unspeakable glory; before I could finally encounter that part of her that so many have longed to see, but could merely dream about in sinful fantasies...