Fungal Halo

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For The Love Of Goddess

It’s her again. Not just another worshipper, by now all the temple priestesses know her face.

Her schedule is her own, her arrivals dictated by impulses only she knows. She offers social pleasantries to those of us she sees but wastes no time traversing the temple grounds.

“I miss you, my love,” she murmurs in a voice too low to be heard by any except the priestess attending the statue.

Having climbed the plinth to stand with her arms wrapped around the statue’s waist, she looks with adoration into the eyes of our goddess and kisses her.

Hard, sculpted lips do not part for her mouth. Nor does any other part of the statue react when she shrugs off her robe to press naked flesh into unyielding stone.

You would never know the goddess was unreactive from this woman’s behavior, however.

She gasps and moans with pleasure as though she were in the embrace of a particularly enthusiastic lover. Her hands roam with lustful intent over the meticulously carved body of the goddess we venerate.

It is difficult for any priestess to avert her eyes from the scene.

Once per generation someone like this may appear: a worshipper of the goddess, enamored of her in a way that goes far beyond the devotion of priestesses like us.

Other worshippers sometimes complain, perceiving such a show of affection as obscene or a distraction from prayer.

But it is a gift from our goddess to feel such powerful carnal desire for her—a sign of her divine touch—and we dare not keep such attention away for the sake of those who cannot appreciate the beauty in such a scene.

Even the gods have needs and feel attraction to mortals.

A shuddering climax overwhelms the worshipper, who clings to the goddess for support while straddling one of her legs.

When she composes herself, I offer my hand to help her down. She accepts with gratitude and descends from the plinth.

With a handkerchief, I dry her tears.

“She’ll come for you one day,” I offer gently.

“I know. She promised. But until then I have her stone body to keep me company, don’t I?”

I nod. “As often as you need her, she’ll be here for you. And so will we.”

“Thank you, friend.”