A Visit from Inanna

ebooks erotica by Elle Beau

What happens when mild-mannered Molly has an unexpected brush with Inanna, the ancient Mesopotamian goddess of sex and love?

Molly put the book down in her lap and took a sip of her tea. Her cat, Toliver jumped up and rubbed against her arm, nearly making her spill the hot, sugary liquid all over the book. Toliver was a gorgeous creature, a full-blooded Abysinnian with an expensive pedigree, but basically he was a jerk. Like most felines, what he primarily cared about was his own pleasure, and right now he wanted Molly to rub his head and scratch his ears.  He nuzzled his head and whiskers against a corner of the book and purred.

Molly could have learned a thing or two from Toliver about indulging in pleasure. She had been brought up to be a serious and straight-laced young woman, and she didn’t spend too much of her valuable time on frivolous things that struck her as self-indulgent. Because of that, she hadn’t had much dating experience, and even on the rare occasion when she masturbated, she always felt a little bit guilty about it afterward, as if she could have been using that time for something more productive. Molly never really sought out pleasure, it seemed. Certainly not that sort of the carnal and delicious kind. Her body had to be practically screaming for sexual release before she would bother to give it the kind of attention that it was craving. Perhaps a few minutes of targeted water flow with the hand-held shower nozzle, or some other perfunctory stimulation of her swollen clitoris, until the necessary wave of orgasm was achieved. Then she could get back to doing whatever more important and more meaningful thing she’d been in the middle of before her body had demanded sexual attention.

Despite the fact that it did feel good, she never really enjoyed her body. Even naked in the shower with a stream of water aimed at her clit, Molly never ran a hand across her breasts or played with her nipples. It didn’t occur to her to stroke her thighs or to tease a finger into her wetness while she worked away at her love button. Molly was focused on the endgame and not on the sensual journey to get there, and unfortunately, her few lovers each had that “wham bam” tunnel vision that left her feeling empty. She had no concept of her physical self as a smorgasbord of sensation and delight and had yet to meet anyone who could sexually awaken her.

The book on the mythology of ancient Mesopotamia was an old one by the looks of it, and it was from the library. Molly really didn’t want to pay a fine for bringing it back with tea spilled all over it, so she set it well to the side, still opened to the page she had been reading, and scratched Toliver behind the ears. As a cat, he considered that this was basically what Molly was there for — that and to feed him, although as servants go, he was rather fond of her. As she absent-mindedly scratched Toliver’s head, he contentedly purred again, and her thoughts returned to the book and the story of Inanna, one of the central goddesses of ancient Mesopotamia — how during a rather boozy visit with her father Enki, Inanna had been given many strange gifts.

“Enki and Inanna drank beer together
They drank more beer together.
They drank more and more beer together.”

“As the evening wore on, Enki became more and more generous, offering the Methe sacred culture of Sumerto Inanna.

“In the name of my power! In the name of my holy shrine!
To my daughter Inanna I shall give
The high priesthood! Godship!
The noble, enduring crown! The throne of kingship!”

“Inanna replied: I take them!”

“And with the second toast”

“In the name of my power! In the name of my holy shrine!
To my daughter Inanna I shall give
Truth!
Descent into the underworld! Ascent from the underworld!
The art of lovemaking! The kissing of the phallus!”

“Fourteen times Enki toasted Inanna and offered her the Me. Fourteen times she accepted.”

From an ancient Sumerian myth

What a curious amalgamation of gifts, mused Molly to herself. Especially the kissing of the phallus. That one was rather, well…. specific and from a modern perspective, an unusual gift for a father to give. As Toliver began to purr even more loudly, Molly glanced at the clock and realized with a start that it was later than she thought.

“Oh, my gosh, I’ve got to hurry up and get ready,” she said to Toliver, who continued to nuzzle her hand and demand her attention. “I’m meeting that guy Stephan that Emmy set me up with. I hope he’s not a complete waste of my time.”

Since Molly never seemed to date much, her friend had decided to introduce Molly to a guy she knew. He was very solid and intelligent like Molly but Stephan had a bit more of a playful side that Emmy thought might be good for her. Toliver simply half-closed his eyes, in response. His motor continued to rumble in satisfaction.

A light breeze ruffled the pages of the old book that Molly had set aside, despite the fact that all of the windows to the house were shut and the fan wasn’t on but Molly didn’t even notice. She was too busy rushing to get ready, however, Toliver scampered away and hid under the bed. Something strange was going on, and although he didn’t quite know what it was, he wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

As she went to stand up, Molly felt just a little bit light-headed. She wondered what was in that new tea she’d bought, but she didn’t really have time to think past that. Molly really was running late and wouldn’t even have time for a shower. She’d have to dress quickly if she was going to meet her date on time. In the bathroom, she moistened a washcloth and put a small amount of soap on it before swabbing out her armpits. Washing under her arms had always been a purely functional thing in the past, but today the heat and the dampness of the wet cloth had a sensual feel that made her nipples involuntarily stiffen. Next, she ran the warm, wet, washcloth between her legs and realized that it felt pleasing in a way that she’d never really noticed before. It seemed to caress her vulva as if she were being touched by the tongue of a lover, rather than just a slapdash cleaning with a somewhat ratty washcloth. As all of her folds were explored and cleansed, she felt warm and tingly. Rather than the usual sense she had that suc…

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