The Christian Lord may move in mysterious ways, but the Goddess doesn’t fuck around. I’d beseeched the divine for guidance, pleading for any sign to reveal my path toward self-redemption. I hadn’t been myself for some time, merely a pathetic, hollow pantomime; I’d reduced myself to a robotic, soulless parody of me.

Though the doctors cut the vile, cancerous blackness from my body, the devastating emotional carnage remained. A piece of me was still missing; that mote of emptiness became a black hole, sucking the fragments of my shattered soul into the void. Determined to prove to the cosmos that I was whole, I plunged myself, with wild abandon, into my daily routines, externally showing that I was not only healed but better than ever. Ultimately, after facing mortality, I was terrified of living and became a shadowy counterfeit of myself, robotic and miserable. My joie de vivre had fled.

Spiraling downward, I straddled a razor-thin line between insanity and depression, was devoid of joy, and plummeted into soul-crushing despair. Alienating my friends, becoming increasingly petty and caustic, I presented myself as whole, despite the dark hollowness where my heart once was. Then, as demonic bleakness consumed my essence, two words flashed across my laptop screen; the fractured remnants of my soul incinerated like an ancient photograph set to flame.

“Free Spirit” may seem innocuous to most, but, for me, they were a death knell, the final nails in my sorrow-filled coffin. A stark reminder of everything that was taken from me, those two words stripped away the last shards of my fractured soul and ambushed my psyche, instantly causing a severe mental and emotional breakdown.

As my artificial facade of self evaporated, leaving angst and anguish in its place, I announced a temporary leave from my online activities. The things I loved had become onerous chores. Trapped in a web of anguish, I called my husband for moral and spiritual support. I’d lost my sense of self and could not live up to the image of Krystal, let alone actually be me. I was dead inside.

Despite my violent protests, although I didn’t feel alive, my husband abducted me and whisked me away to a four-star resort on the coast. With forced removal from my kamikaze behavior, relaxation came, a spiritual and emotional salve for my wounded soul.

All that remained was to atone to the Goddess for forsaking my faith and to rediscover my inner spark. I meditated over my state, begging the divine for a sign, to show me the way. The final day of my forced vacation was spent on the road, meandering across the countryside with no destination in mind. At a tiny, family-run campground, the type that dots the mountain countryside, my Goddess revealed her inspiration. We had stopped there for the evening to rest before we returned home. Rather than beat around the burning bush, my Goddess manifested her advice by placing Eve directly in my path. Eve was the young adult granddaughter of the campground’s owners, and she was the ghost of Krystal-past.

With the youthful vitality of one’s early twenties, she was an erotic vision. Lithe in figure, with perfectly-formed, small breasts, shapely legs, and a plump, perfect butt, her long, straight, brunette hair fell to her waist, and her doe eyes sparkled with sexual mischief. Clad in hemp sandals, a thin, almost-transparent white linen dress, and purple thong panties–easily seen through the thin material—she was effortlessly sexy, causing a volcanic inferno between my legs. Her sincere, open smile beckoned intimacy, and her husky voice made me fantasize about how it sounded when she orgasmed. She was all sexiness and had a natural, hippie vibe that was neither forced nor contrived.

When she asked us to follow her to our assigned campsite, we shared a moment of mutual connection. The faint smell of pungent marijuana mingled with her patchouli as we conversed. I was raised on an old, converted campground; had she been a redhead, the sense of déjà vu would have been overpowering. Eve was sexier than I was at her age, but the parallels were mind-boggling.

“Yeah,” she sighed into her phone as we walked, “I’ll be up there in a few. You know where.”

Forested and hilly, the campground was rustic and scenic. However, her arousing sexuality had my eyes riveted on her body, and she knew it. The swells of her pert breasts and the outlines of her nipples made me drool, and the way she shook her ass with every step had my cunt gushing.

“There’s your lot,” she pointed, and I saw her pentacle pendant hanging from her neck on a leather thong. “Do you need anything before I go?”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “Is there anyplace up there,” I gestured to the thick forest, “where I can light some candles?”

Eve smiled with horny mirth. “Like you two getting freaky in the woods? I know just the place.”

“No,” I laughed. “Like a ritual.”

“Oh. I have an altar near my sanctuary. Follow me.”

We hiked deeper into the foliage, gaining elevation. Eve was bubbly, outgoing, and unfettered by society’s restraints. As we walked, she unbuttoned the front of her sheer dress, exposing her perfect tits to the sun and my lusty gaze. Our conversation was light but extremely suggestive, and her aura of desirable positivism was infectious.

Her “sanctuary” was a low, raised tree-house-type platform, ringed with rustic railing, and decorated in true flower-child, hippie fashion. Tie-dyed and pagan tapestries hung from the boughs of the trees like a flower child's pavilion, splashes of vibrant color amidst the green flora. A heavily stained water pipe and some sex toys in sealed plastic bags littered the motley assortment of cushions arrayed about her space. A battered portable stereo was strapped to the railing, still playing ethereal music.

“Grandpa made this for me when I was just a kid. I hang out here.” She pointed to a barely discernible footpath, and my eyes riveted on her hard nipples. “Follow that path for maybe eighty yards, and you’ll find my altar.”

I thanked Eve with words and a hug. Her hands roamed over my back, dangerously close to my ass, as I mentally willed her to grab my buttocks.

“I’m meeting a friend, here,” she told me, “but I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

I followed the nearly-invisible trail and discovered an altar of stacked stones, the Triple Moon Goddess symbol hanging above it in natural sticks tied with twine. When my preparations were completed, I realized that it was quite rude of me not to invite Eve to partake in my ritual, so I headed back to ask her to join me.

“Fuck you,” I heard Eve yelling as I approached. “Get that pathetic, little thing out of my face.” She sounded distraught, so I hastened my approach, fearing the worst.

Stealthily approaching, my eyes sought a rock or branch to wield as a weapon, lest she be the victim of unwanted sexual advances. But when I saw what was happening, I could only stop and stare in lusty disbelief. She was not in peril.

A young man wearing jeans and a baseball cap stood in front of her as she yelled at him. Her expression was jovial, but her words spat venom.

“I said an ounce of weed, not some tiny, little baggie.” Her pert, perfect boobs bounced as she gesticulated.

“It’s all I have, right now.”

“I guess. How much?” He told her the price. “For that?! For that kind of money, I expect a bonus.”

“What?” he countered, his tone suspicious. “No freebies, not even for you.”

“I want your cock,” she purred, her face a mask of lusty arousal. “I’m fucking horny.”

Not waiting for his reply, she snatched the baggie out of his hand and replaced it with money, then deftly undid his fly and fished out his cock. From my mostly-hidden vantage point, I had a straight line to her; his back was turned from me. Pulling her dress open further to expose her finely-lined torso as well as her tits, Eve squatted down, spreading her legs, and assaulted his cock like a sex-starved whore. He moaned loudly as she grabbed his butt and pulled his lengthy shaft deep into her mouth. One of Eve’s hands dropped between her thighs and began fingering her pussy through her purple panties, a dark, wet spot quickly growing.

Watching in stunned amazement, I felt my essence swell back into my core, bringing lust and arousal along with it. Emulating her actions, my fingers found their way to my now-aching pussy, and I began fingering myself with wild abandon, all the lusty zeal for sex and for life returning to my soul. As she hungrily feasted on his cock, our eyes met. Taken aback, I was about to retreat when she popped her mouth off his quivering cock, trails of saliva falling off it, and smiled seductively at me. Maintaining eye contact, she plunged her mouth back over his fleshy shaft, moaning and fingering herself with renewed vigor.

I opened my top, showing off my larger but less-perfect boobs. My nipples stuck out, prominently, and I pulled my fingers out of my overheated cunt, showing off my trails of sexual nectar. Holding our mutual stares, she pulled the crotch of her thong aside, showing a neatly-trimmed pubic patch, and thrust her fingers inside her pussy as she orally pleased her drug-dealing friend.

“I’m cumming, Eve. So good,” he announced.

I watched, masturbating furiously, as she stopped pleasuring herself and fondled his testicles, sucking on his cock vigorously. With his legs shaking and his moans echoing through the forest, he erupted in a massive orgasm. Eve pulled her mouth off his cock when the first spurt shot into her mouth and aimed his sputtering manhood at her face, taking the rest of his load all over her chin and cheeks.

“Thank you for your cum; now go away, and don’t call me again until you have my weed.” With that, she slapped him on the ass and sent him packing. I stifled a mirth-filled laugh, still fingering my cunt.

“Did you need something, Mrs. Blackfeather, you voyeuristic pervert?” Eve chided. It took me a moment to form words because she scooped up some of the cum with her fingers and began sucking on them.

“I thought I’d ask you if you wanted to join me in my ritual, but, then, I got off on watching you.”

“Mmm,” she cooed, her hands caressing her body, finally disappearing under the waistband of her panties. “His cum tastes so good. Try some. Want a taste?”

Emboldened and overflowing with desire, I stripped nude as I approached. Ignoring her outstretched fingers, my tongue shot out, and I slowly licked the jizz off her face. As soon as my lips made contact with her flesh, Eve turned to me, her hands grasping at my exposed tits, and we ended up sharing her friend’s cum in a passionate, moaning kiss that grew in horny lust and intensity until we ended up lying on the floor of her hippie-festive sanctuary.

Our loosened clothes were evicted from our overheated bodies, and we rolled in nude passion, fingers, lips, tongues, and hands exploring each other. We ended up in a sixty-nine, her fingers plunging into both my dripping cunt and asshole. I grabbed one of her dildos, removed it from the bag, and fucked her cunt with it while I sucked and nibbled on her engorged clit.

Soon, we both erupted in powerful orgasms, both of us quaking, screaming, cursing, and shouting.

“That was fantastic,” she said. “The ritual, now?"

“The Goddess sent her message loud and clear. How about we go to our campsite and recruit my husband for an all-night threesome, instead?”

“Fuck, yeah! He’s hot. Let’s go.”

Just like that, I was reminded of who I truly am. Blessed be.