Date: Sun, 21 Nov 1999 05:47:55 -0800 (PST) From: Selena Anders Subject: Parvah My 11-year-old sister, Shira, just had her first bleeding time, so now she gets to come to Parvah too. We climb into the car with my mom, and as we drive to the holy place, Mom tells her the same story she told me three years ago. "In the ancient language of our religion, Parvah means 'well'. It also is the name of the Goddess of the well. Our men were so busy fighting among themselves, that they couldn't bother getting water from the well, so that chore became women's work. Women would gather around the well just to talk at first, and sometimes we would talk about our moon times. Men can't stand to hear such talk. They think it is disgusting and gross. So they built a wall around the well, and said that only women could go inside. They claimed that God's eyes should not be offended by the sight of a woman in her moon time, and threw their wives out of the house at such times. They said, 'Go to Parvah', and that is where we went. Eventually the men forgot all about the Goddess, since they never saw the well. Now they deny She exists. So now we go to Parvah to pray, and today you will start to learn the prayers." Mom pulls into the parking lot outside the plain grey stone building, then leads us inside. Shira gasps as she looks around. "It's so beautiful!" She is right. It is. Basically it is just a big garden, with winding paths among the flowers, and little benches along the way. The roof is glass, like a greenhouse, to let in the sun. Along the walls are little cubicles where you can leave your clothes and stuff if you want to go naked. Mom says that in old times women only took their clothes off for the offering rite, but now it is popular to be ready for the rite if a partner happens to be there. We find three empty cubicles next to each other, and Mom explains to Shira, "The rite must be done without clothing. The book of Parvah says that women must help each other in all things, and our priestesses have always said that that means we should undress each other for the rite. Could you take my jacket please?" Actually, I always think that the undressing is part of the rite, and a nice part too. My Mom is really beautiful, and I love to take her bra off and see her breasts with their big dark nipples. Soon Shira is kneeling before Mom, pulling her panties down so her Misha-bead falls free. Before, I always got to do that, and I love the smell of my Mom's sex as the odor is released from her panties. But I don't mind. Mom will let me take Shira's panties off. I am next to get naked, then Shira, and we hang up our clothes then head down the garden path with our arms around each other's waists. Sometimes we stop to smell the flowers. Shira blushes from embarrassment at her nakedness, the first time we meet a group of women who are quietly chatting on some of the benches. They look up and notice that she has no Misha-bead, and smile. They are probably remembering their first time at Parvah. One of the ladies wears a Parvah dress, which looks like a sheer cotton nightie. In olden times women sometimes wore them right up to the moment of the rite, to keep off the harsh desert sun. Now they are usually worn by older women who think nudity is best for the young. This lady is a special friend of my Mom's, and they greet each other with a warm kiss. The other two ladies sit naked on the same bench, one with her arm around the other's shoulder, while the second idly plays with the first's Misha bead. I should explain about Misha. In English it means 'clitoris', but it is also my name. I get teased a lot about it. Our women have thin gold chains around our waists, and an extra bit of chain hangs down with a little glass bead on the end. Usually it just sits inside our panties, but when we walk naked it swings a little bit and bounces against our clit. If you have a big enough bead, it can feel really nice. Playing with, or even touching someone else's bead means you are offering to be her partner in the rite. Anyway, we continue down the path and soon come to the well. Our well is a simple depression in the floor, lined with black tiles. Above hangs a chain, an ancient symbol of the chain that would lower a pail into the well. A woman is sitting beside it, staring into the water. Mom whispers to Shira to be silent. I already know not to disturb this woman's sacred meditation on the womb of the Goddess. On a nearby table are several plain silver cups. Mom and I each take one and dip it in the well, and Shira catches on and does the same. Carefully we carry our cups of water down another path toward the pool of the rite. Once we are out of earshot of the meditating woman, Mom explains to Shira, "Back before we had real plumbing, these cups would have been big heavy pails of water that we had to use to fill the pool, so carry it carefully because you don't want to have to make too many trips to the well." The path opens on the garden clearing where a waterfall splashes into a warm deep pool. The waterfall is definitely not traditional, since there were none in the desert our people come from, but it is pretty. The pool is about 4' deep, and steps lead down into it on either side of the waterfall. Across from the waterfall is a special part of the pool that is only 2" deep. Carefully we empty our cups into the pool, as we are greeted by the priestess. She is amazingly beautiful, tall with deeply bronzed skin and long black ringlets. She has one of the biggest Misha beads I have ever seen, and when she walks her hips move so that it bounces happily into her pussy. I have never seen her with any clothing on, but her jewelry glitters in the sunlight. Ninya is there too. She is a pretty young girl who is Shira's best friend. Any woman at all can attend a Parvah ceremony, but Ninya was specially invited. She is younger than Shira, but had her first blood a few months earlier. We all sit, and the priestess formally speaks the opening words of the rite. "Shira, the well is the womb of life, for from it springs the water of life. But the pool is the fountain of pleasure. The water must be carried from the well to the pool, and this you have done. The well is a reflection of your womb, which someday may also bring forth life. The pool is not so deep. It is a reflection of your vagina, your cunt, your Misha, the place of your pleasure. Today you become a woman, ready to share a woman's pleasure with another woman, for the book of Parvah says that we must help each other in all things. Have you chosen someone with whom to share for your first time the rite of Parvah?" "Could it be with Misha?" she asks. I am thrilled as the priestess says, "So be it!" We all rise, and my mother and Ninya take Shira's hands and lead her toward the steps on one side of the waterfall. The priestess leads me toward the other steps, and begins to recite a prayer in our ancient language as I descend into the wonderful warm water. The water comes up over my excited nipples as I stand in the middle of the pool. I turn toward my sister and hold my arms out toward her. As Shira steps down into the water, the priestess begins to sing the song of celebration. I take my sister in my arms and kiss her, just as my mother kissed me when I had my first time. Her young lips part and I taste her tongue, soft and sweet. My hands slide down her tender back and hold the tiny cheeks of her ass. This is the supreme ritual of a woman making love to a woman, and even though I am only 14, I have been chosen to introduce my little sister into the delights of womanhood. Gently I lift Shira and guide her over to the special spot in the pool, the part that is only 2" deep, and lift her onto the shallow shelf. I find myself looking up into her eyes, but as she leans over me her tiny pink pubescent nipples greet my lips, and I begin to suck on them. "Oh, Misha..." my sister whispers as she wraps her arms around my neck. "That feels so nice!" She gasps as I gently nip one of her hard excited little nubs with my teeth. Her thin legs are clenched around my waist as I continue to play with her titties, getting her more and more excited. She starts to kick, her heels beating on my bum as her toes splash the water. That's OK, this is Shira's moment, and she can kick or splash if she wants. I kiss my way down Shira's tummy, and she giggles as my tongue penetrates her navel. I decide to give her the old tickle-torture, and keep swirling my tongue around inside her belly-button. My little sister thrashes and splashes even more. But while tickling is fun, especially when the victim reacts so vigorously, it is not the essence of the Parvah rite. I gently urge my pretty sister to lie back in the 2-inch deep water as I slip lower between her thighs. Here is the treasure I seek. The puffy inner lips of Shira's cunny, between the puffy outer lips betrayed her excitement. I lifted her knees up over my shoulders and slowly extended my tongue to delicately lick up the exposed inner lips, not trying to part them, but just to slide up their succulent length. "Ohhhhhhhh!" Shira shrieks, and her voice echoes around the whole building, announcing to every woman present that she is coming into the full realization of shared womanhood. I spread her outer lips with my fingers, and the inner lips part of their own accord. The surface of the pool laps gently at the opening of her vagina, mixing with the juices of her excitement. I dip my chin in the water, and my tongue slides along the surface toward the dark opening of my little sister's cunt. Slowly it slides inside, as Shira's fingers clutch at my head, getting a death-grip on my hair. I feel her tug my face into her crotch, and I willingly spear my tongue into my sweet sister's tight little vagina. I am in heaven! There in the Parvah pool I receive the gift of Shira's virginal lust. Eagerly I receive it, lapping up every drop, along with considerable pool water. My tongue slides out of her hot hole and up to the tiny nub of her Misha, and I gently suck it between my lips. I begin a pulsing suction on Shira's clit, as I slide two wet fingers into her tight little cunt. Shira thrashes and screams even louder than before as I keep on sucking and swirling my tongue around her tiny clitty. "Oooooh!" Shira wails as she starts to cum on my fingers, her woman-juices mixing with the sacred waters of the pool. Relentlessly I keep on sucking and licking at her lust button as her hips buck and squirm against my mouth. She just keeps on cumming, as she doesn't have the experience to know to utter the phrase, 'no more'. Many minutes later she has tired herself out, and she lies back in the shallow water, with tears streaming down her face. Other women have gathered, and they begin to enter the pool. The priestess herself takes me and begins to use her sacred arts for my pleasure. The pool becomes a mass of femininity, and I give myself up to the orgy.