Education Of The Native Spirit

I am a Graduate student who has just finished my Master's degree and will be starting a Doctorates program under (hopefully literally) the most amazing professor ever. Three years ago I moved to a West Coast University. The city is huge, the school intimidating, and I entered the department office under confusion. I have been assigned to study under one of the leading Native American historians in the world. Students face intense competition to just get into his classes, I am his research assistant. Problem is, I knew nothing about Native American history and had planned on studying scientific history.

The department head was less than understanding of my position. She called me ungrateful. She also suggested that I look to a different school as they have students waiting in line for the position that I fell into. She questioned how I could possibly be qualified, having no experience in Indian history or their religious practices, which he specializes in. "I do not know why he chose you. We do not argue with Dr. Black-Horse."

Finding my new office, I was relieved to meet the girl I shared it. She was extremely nice, and appeared to be "in the know". In short order I learned the department head held a long standing crush on "my" professor. Dr. Black-Horse treated his assistance very kindly. I would have opportunity to travel with him and would spend long hours together. I looked forward to meeting him, all the girls flushed just at the mention of his name.

At first I did not understand; he was not all that good looking, he was married, and he spent extreme hours in research. In fact, I found him rather nerdy. This all slowly changed as I became enthralled in his lectures. When the stress of school felt unbearable, he was so caring and compassionate. It was his kind words that kept me going when I wanted to quit. That and his research. His research became my academic fulfillment giving me a reason to continue on.

I also became close friends with his wife, Glenda. She was rather young, having been his last research assistant. We got along so well, I felt as though she was my sister, I loved her. We had all the same interests and even looked alike. Glenda helped me with encouragement and words of enlightenment as I sunk into a depression. As I hit a low point in my education, it was her that asked me to spend the following week with them up at their cabin.

On the drive up to their cabin, Professor Black-Horse shared Spiritual thoughts from a variety of tribes. He was masterful in weaving them together. They fit together just right in that each touched an area where I was weak, helping me, strengthening me, supporting me. He taught me a Navajo chant that was so beautiful as it circled around in my mind.

I could smell a sweet smoke. Glenda, calmly whispered in my ear about the smoke being "uplifting, freeing, and mind opening." Her lips touched mine as her kiss filled my mouth with the smoke. "Breath it, feel it." The second smoke filled kissed I allowed to fill my lungs. I meditated the rest of the drive.

I felt as though I was walking on clouds as we entered into their beautiful cabin. Dr. Black-Horse left us alone stating he would be in preparatory meditation. I was not sure for what, but welcomed the time with Glenda. She left me kneeling on a buffalo robe in the middle of the floor while she pulled a peace-pipe from the wall. Once again, she puffed on the pipe, exhaling the smoke into my lungs via loving kisses. The smoke took me to a different level of consciousness, away from the physical.

I felt like I was floating above my body almost as an observer. I watched as Glenda removed her clothes, I found her very beautiful. Her body was more than familiar. She had my body, pale, supple, and very curvy. Her hips were wide, as were mine, with an ass large but firm. I had heard jealous whispers at the University that Dr. Black-Horse selected his protégés based on his preference for blondes with full figures.

Now beautiful and in a natural state, Glenda's hands began undressing me. They felt so loving, not just undressing me, but caressing me. The thought of her getting me high to undress me entered my mind but for a second. I would have welcomed her touch anytime. I loved and trusted her beyond condition. I would succumb to and welcome her attentions. I stood before her, nude, nipples hard as she draped a sheer white robe over me.

"Close your eyes and kneel before the medicine man" she commanded. My bare knees felt the soft buffalo robe. Eyes closed my spirit watched as Glenda encircled me, body still nude and beautiful, cleansing me with sage mixed with peyote. Through the smoke my spirit perceived a man.

Dr. Black-Horse, no it would now be Shaman Black-Horse, sat in front of me crossed legs and in meditation. He wore a buffalo head dress, significant in many of the plains tribes for Spirituality and wisdom. His skin was bare but painted with symbols I felt rather than understood. His cock was large, hard, and standing prominently out in front of him. For the first time, I opened my eyes, not trusting the spirit which was telling me that his cock was so beautiful and full. I was now able to close them again satisfied.

Glenda continued to sing and dance around me. Her contrast to her husband was remarkable. He was solid like a rock, she flowed gracefully like a stream. I was part of her graceful dance in spirit and in body. The sheer robe covering me floated away in her hands carried off as if by the wind. Her dance returned to me, touching, caressing, and positioning me. She was Spirit, she was erotic, she was nature. I longed for her touch flowing over my breasts. Her hands commanding me to lay down, spreading my legs.

I was laying on my back, knees bent, legs parted. My pussy was directly in front of my medicine man. Not just on display for his meditating gaze, but for his cock. His cock, stiff like an arrow, lined up with my pussy. His stiff arrow ready to be released. My doe soft pussy ready to be penetrated. As if testing this fact, Glenda ran her fingers over my warm pussy, my hips rising to meet and prolong her touch. Lifting her hand from my swollen pussy lips elicited a moan from my lips and left wetness stuck to Glenda's fingers, my wetness.

Her fingers touched his lips, which he parted, sucking in my juices. My juices, still a Spiritual part of me, in his mouth brought shivers running over my body. With a sense of purpose he opened his eyes, his gaze soaking in my body. Stopping at my pussy, I felt his warm knowing eyes penetrating my pink lips. He knew, he felt at that moment that I was still had not "known" a cock. Our eyes met, his questioning, mine answering. "Yes, I want, I need you, ... to fill me, to heal me, to make me whole."

He arose, just to cover me, cover me with his body. I felt our minds intertwine. I felt our hearts beat as one. I felt his cock press against my pussy lips, its head just entering. Shudders coursed through my body. A glow of light wrapped my body like a cocoon protecting and warming. I lifted my hips forcing his cock ever deeper, feeling the penetration, feeling my virginity release and flow. Our bodies became one.

His passion and my passion coursed freely through our bodies. I felt my spirit transform, my totem was there, my totem was I, I am a deer. A deer running free through the woods. The wind in my face over my body feeling so erotic. What is that I hear? A wolf? I am being chased by a wolf which catches me with ease. It needs me. I sacrifice self, to feel the wolf so strong and powerful mount me. It's cock filling me, stretching me, taking me. I feel myself melt as the passion of the wolf envelopes me. It fucks me long. It fucks me hard. It fucks me with passion. I feel it's seed flowing so hot and warm into me.

As Dr. Black-Horse collapses beside me, I lay there feeling my virginity and his cum wet and warm upon my thighs. Glenda lays beside me holding me in her arms. She whispers truths and secrets in my ear. I have been adopted into their family, their tribe. I am Glenda's sister, I am the Medicine Man's wife.