The Deception of a Goddess

**Angro's POV**

Amari’s help had been crucial.

Having lost the helmet he planned to use to assert his claim over Shaira, Omawit had no choice but to retreat home to lick his wounds. But I knew that once he recovered, he would try again to claim the eteri girl, not just out of pride, but also because if he succeeded, he would ensure my elimination, his fiercest enemy.

“Now that the matter with the girl has been resolved, I want all your focus on me, Angro,” Amari said when we returned to her house. “I know the eteri isn’t completely indifferent to you, love, and I recognize that she is quite attractive, but I am your fiancée, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep your eyes on me.”

I felt ashamed at Amari’s discovery.

Had my attraction to Shaira been that obvious?

Maybe it had, but it was because of this strange bond I felt with her. In the years I’d known Amari, especially since our bodies matured to feel attraction for each other, I had never even considered another woman. The thought of being unfaithful had never crossed my mind, despite the many opportunities I had, with other women and young girls from Zuwua, and even other villages, offering themselves to me, sometimes in bold ways. Even with the temptation of their exposed and willing bodies, I had always been faithful to Amari because my heart belonged to her. But when I saw Shaira for the first time, from the moment I found her in the jungle, I knew there was a powerful bond between us—something that, much to my regret, began to surpass all the love and loyalty I had poured into Amari.

What was it?

What was this supernatural force, stronger even than love, that pulled me toward Shaira, despite her being an eteri, an enemy of our people?

“I… I’m so sorry, Amari. My mind got confused…”

Amari came closer and placed her finger on my lips.

“You don’t need to explain anything, Angro. I know who you are; I know you. I’ve heard and even witnessed—without you noticing—all the times your love for me has been tested when others tried to throw themselves at you.”

I was surprised.

Amari had somehow known about those moments when I could have been unfaithful. Thanks to overcoming those tests, she now trusted me, even when she saw how much Shaira attracted me.

“Now, what I want is for you to stay, Angro, to forget about that girl, and for us to start planning our wedding.” As she said that, the dress that covered Amari slid down her skin, revealing her naked body.

In our culture, the virginity of both the man and the woman is highly valued when they marry. But once Amari and I made our commitment irreversible, we had given ourselves to carnal pleasure.

Seeing her perfect body pulsing with desire, my excitement matched hers. She could feel it, pressing against her belly, and she lowered my pants to increase my desire with the touch of her hands. I let out a soft sigh when I felt her warm hands on my already erect member, and an even deeper, more pleasurable feeling came when I saw her kneel to take my penis into her mouth.

I gave in to the pleasure and closed my eyes, but as soon as I did, the first thing I saw was Shaira. I tried to shake off the thought, feeling it was disrespectful to Amari, who loved me sincerely and whom I also loved equally, but when I opened my eyes, I still saw her—the eteri girl. And it was her, not Amari, who was sucking my penis with her mouth.

I wanted to banish that image, conjured by some mischievous spirit, but even after rubbing my eyes, I continued seeing Shaira, kneeling, offering me the best oral sex of my life. And as much as my conscious mind tried to push her away, the idea that it was Shaira—that it was her with my penis in her mouth—only made it more arousing.

“I’m already so wet,” said the woman I knew was Amari, but who now appeared as Shaira, even with her voice. “Come, love, I want you to be only mine.”

Taking my penis in her hand, Amari-Shaira guided me to the bed, where she offered herself to me.

I swear I kept trying to dispel the vision with which my eyes were deceiving me, but I couldn’t, and I plunged my penis, with great satisfaction, into Shaira’s sweet vagina, which received it with overflowing excitement.

The pleasure was infinite, much more intense than what I usually felt when making love to Amari.

What was happening?

Was I making love to a goddess who, after reading my mind and discovering my most intimate desires, had decided to transform into Shaira to ensure my passion wouldn’t disappoint?

Stories like this were not uncommon among the opranchi. Many of our heroes and heroines were conceived this way—by gods who took on the form of other beings or people to lie with those they desired.

If that was the case, I hoped it was a goddess deceiving me and not some malevolent spirit because I was truly delighted by the idea that it was Shaira with whom I was making love.

“Oh, darling, I love you so much,” exclaimed Amari-Shaira as I sensed she was on the brink of ecstasy. “Don’t stop. It feels so good.”

Without stopping my thrusts, I arched my back to reach for the nectar of her breasts, which I took into my mouth like a thirsty man at a fresh spring. They were so tender and soft, so firm and sweet, that I almost lost control of my ejaculation and came inside her—something I still wanted to avoid, as it would have been a disgrace for Amari to arrive at our wedding pregnant.

“Wait, no. Don’t pull out,” pleaded Amari-Shaira when she realized I was about to withdraw. “Pour it inside me. I want your seed. I want a child from you, Angro.”

That request could only have come from a goddess or a malevolent spirit. Amari wouldn’t have asked me that, so I disobeyed and spilled my seed across her abdomen, convinced I had been tricked and that’s why I had seen Shaira the whole time instead of my fiancée.

When I exhaled my final breath of ecstasy, I saw Amari again, smiling, satisfied from what had been one of the most memorable lovemaking sessions of our lives.

“You had a lot of desire, love. You did it like a god.”

I lay down beside her without telling her what had truly fueled my passion.