Date: Sun, 21 Nov 1999 05:47:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Selena Anders <selena33_ca@yahoo.com>
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.