The air was humid, and Cameron was grateful that his clothes had disappeared. A moment before, the witch Morrigan had been chanting over him beneath a twilit sky, invoking the Demi-Goddess. The next, he was here, where the walls ran with crystal sheets of water. The faintest music hummed in the back of his head, and soft light came from nowhere and everywhere. He was ready to meet her and was glad of his bare state. One should not go before a deity clad in vanity. The music rose, a sultry laugh sounded, and she was there in her resplendence.
She was dressed just as he—in her bare skin and nothing more. A creature such as she had no need of silks and baubles. He naked shape was unmatched on earth in its beauty, and adornment would insult her. Cameron asked himself if it was proper that heat was rising beneath his belly, that his heart beat in his throat, and that the humid air seemed suddenly all the hotter. He fought at first against the arousal, told himself that it was this way for all who went before her— that what he felt was spiritual and nothing more.
The ceiling was too high to see, well beyond the sourceless light. And a good thing too, for the Demi-Goddess towered above him. Her skin, though it gave off no rays, glistered, radiating inner warmth. Her face, framed by red locks that moved about her as though weightless, was utterly at rest, her eyes alert and sagacious. They dominated him, and he knew that, try as he might to mask his attraction with feigned reverence, she had already seen through him—seen his past and future—and her countenance wore the ease of one who could not be surprised.
He could not move, though he desperately wished to. As his eyes went from her wondrous face down along her length, he felt the heat between his hips rise, and the shaft between his legs rise with it. For all her otherworldliness, the Demi-Goddess took Human form, and was perfection thereof—flawless femininity. Below the sweep of her hair, square shoulders were strong above delicate collarbones, and below these were the breasts of one apt for creation—full and proud, and ample to match the ample size of the Demi-Goddess. Strong and shapely arms were held wide in welcome.
Her trunk was long and lithe. Beneath her soft flesh, the smooth lines of concealed muscle swept down to meet in the wedge between her hips. Those legs were as imagined things, so smooth in their sweeping contours that they were more like mist than flesh—but flesh they were, as he could tell by the way the moisture beaded on them, tracing rivulets down long curves. Her feet were lost below the edge of the fountain, submerged there in sacred waters. Below her belly, flowering between her legs, was the sparing wisp of red hair that framed her vulva.
His eyes locked there, and he could not avert them. The shock of red, just as the red that spilled over her shoulders, drew the eye irresistibly, and the perfect fullness of her lips held them in place. He felt, rather than heard, her laugh, and knew how absurd he must look. A young man come before a high spirit, chosen of his people, and he was showing himself as nothing more than a leering, lustful creature. He held his gaze, knowing he must look away, but unable to. Cameron thought he felt her laugh again, and her body shook.
He forced his gaze down to the floor, ashamed. She must be disgusted by him, that perfect creature. But when his eyes came away, he was reminded of his own nakedness, and was all at once ashamed by the sight of his cock, half engorged and protruding from amongst gingery blond hairs. He tensed in humiliation, and watched it move and grow even more, foreskin coming back slightly as it became erect. His cheeks were hot now, and the heat below his navel nearly unbearable—and it radiated into a racing heart, and out to the tip of his erection.
He must leave, he thought, forgetting the Demi-Goddess altogether, and his reason for coming. How could he disrespect her so? How could he disgrace himself and his people, who had chosen him alone to be a messenger for them? In their time of need it was he who was to ask for the aid of the Demi-Goddess, and now he showed himself no better than a base animal in mating season. He planted his heels, afraid that his arousal would overcome his shame, that he would embarrass himself even more. He was burning, her nakedness emblazoned in his memory, and—
A finger on his chin now, and all at once his head was drawn up. She stood before him now, her face but a hand's breadth from his. She was human sized, somehow diminished so they could meet as equals—and yet, in her majesty she was utterly undiminished. He felt her radiance, smelled the ambrosial ecstasy of her, and the feeling that had been rising in his belly, heart, and groin seemed now to simmer in his every extremity. She had seen what he was, what his body wanted, and was not displeased. Quite the opposite, by her look.