I still left on the bobble hat that she had put on my head, continuing to play her game. With my cock upright and my balls ready to burst, I awaited t...e magnificent. And waited. And waited. Cautiously I took off the hat. The room had darkened considerably since I had come in. She was nowhere to be seen. I got up from the chair, and stepped into a puddle of which I can only guess. But she had gone. She had soundlessly disappeared. By this stage my dick had already become limp. I started to grab. At the home of the Fertility Priests and their acolytes an hour away from the village, the young men had spent months expelling their seed into a thick stone jar that was kept in a cool place under ground and covered with damp banana leaves. Each would squat over the open jar and use a pumping motion on his lingam when the evening came to cause the seed to spurt down into the jar. This ritual seed spilling would happen each evening before vespers when the acolytes who were soon to be fathers. More

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