Temple

“Take me Aristaios!” She breathed.

Aristaios gently bent Elekrtra over the foot of the statue. He felt her shudder as his swollen manhood rubbed along the length of her sex, and then slowly slid inside her. Aristaios moaned loudly as the warm folds of her enveloped him. He felt Elektra’s insides tighten as began to move within her. His rough hands clutched at her hips as he began to quicken his pace, leaving the flesh there tender and red. What started slow was now an act of raw, animalistic need. He drove into her repeatedly, almost growling as he did so. His feral desire drove her to the edge, breathing shallow between gasps of pleasure. A knot of passion unfurled inside her and with a loud cry she climaxed, and he followed closely behind, spraying his molten desire inside her.

Aristaios lay then, draped over Elektra as she leaned against the statue for support. They were a mass of tangled humanity, sweat soaked and breathing heavily. Aristaios brushed aside Elektra’s hair to kiss her once again, but he pulled away in wonder. It was no longer Elektra that confronted him now. She was tall with an elegant charm. Her blonde curls framed a porcelain face, with deep blue eyes, and full lips. She silently drew her robe about her naked form as Aristaios watched in wonder.

“Who…?”

She smiled then. “You know who I am Aristaios.” His gaze was drawn to the statue and then back to her. He knew then.

“You are Aphrodite…goddess of love.” She was the perfect likeness of the statue, yet living and breathing as she was, a thousand times more beautiful. Aristaios hung his head and gave a mournful sigh.

“What troubles you Aristaios?”

“It is a dream. I will wake with a desire even more haunting than the one I had known.”

“No, Aristaios. This is no dream.” Her graceful hand lifted his downturned face and then kissed him softly on the lips. There was fire in her touch, yet mercy on her lips. “Do I not feel real to you?”

“Yes Goddess, but…”

“Do not doubt yourself then, Aristaios. You have given me pleasure this night, and for that, the rest of your days shall be blessed by the goddess of love.” She busied herself with her robe when he replied.

“No, Goddess. The pleasure has been all mine, and such a long time I have waited to taste of your lovely fruit.” As he spoke, Aristaios’ voice deepened. It took on a feral quality. Aphrodite raised her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. What stood before her was no longer a man. The creature had a ruddy complexion, pointed ears and tiny horns poking just above his matted dark hair. His lip curled into a wicked grin and she could see fangs hiding behind his playful demeanor. From the waist down, he was covered in dark fur and the creature’s legs ended in hooves. He lecherously fingered the small wooden pipes that hung suspended by a thin cord around his neck.

“Pan! You despicable satyr! How could you deceive me thus?” He laughed heartily, his dark eyes aglow in the moonlight,

“Goddess,” he said with a sneer, “Your own deception is what led to your downfall…Besides,” he continued, “I know you liked it. I daresay the goddess of love shall never be the same.”

Aphrodite continued to glare at the satyr. Pan’s smug expression drooped. His eyes became sad and a frown crept across his face. A lone tear rolled down his earthy cheek and a small sniffle escaped him.

“Oh, stop it!” Aphrodite snapped. “Your sad puppy routine will not work with me, Pan.” The satyr hung his head dejectedly and turned to exit the temple, scuffling his hooves as he went.

“Oh, for the love of Zeus! Stop, Pan. I’m just angered because you got the better of me and…well…by Hera, I did like it. I concede then, satyr. You have won this round, but in another century, we shall see who fools who.”

Pan raised his head and tossed back his shoulders as he continued for the entrance to the temple.

“I accept your admission of defeat, Goddess, and what’s more I commend you. Your skills as a seductress and lover have not waned in the least. In fact, they are as sharp as ever. I regret that I must depart now. The forest nymphs await you know, but I will see you in another century…If you can wait that long.”

The moon crept behind the hill, withdrawing it’s reflection from the Agean and the ruins of the small temple on the hill. It is said that even today, when the moon is full and you listen closely enough, you can hear Aphrodite’s cries of passion, and if you listen even closer, you can hear the sinister laugh of Pan.