I squeezed my eyes shut, tried not to inhale. Turning my head to spare my nose, I peeked with one eye. Purple. Deep glistening purple – a color I favored. There were two purple columns directly in front me. They were carved to resemble humanoid male legs – appearing to be the powerful legs of a warrior god. Since they didn’t move, I raised up higher, resting on one of my elbows. The chant droned, louder. I opened both eyes cautiously. My breath caught as I gradually looked upwards over the purple god’s magnificently muscled thighs. Then my breath stuck in my throat. Instantly I went back on both elbows. Balls, huge purple glistening male balls. They were so prominent I simply stared, gawked actually – not even taking my gaze up the obviously aroused phallus. Not looking up to the warrior god’s hips – maybe he was a fertility god, a statue honoring the mating between man and woman. Noticing my mouth hung open, I clamped it shut, and dared my eyes to continue.
Proudly standing was hardly adequate for the god’s phallus. Purple majesty throbbing, enormous – chiseled so realistically, I craned my neck to take a closer look. I leaned forward, up from my elbows to my hands. The floor surface felt familiar. I should have known, but I didn’t, I was looking up, upwards, up the god’s impressive – no, superior amazing, ridiculously impressive phallus. Then up to his chest, rippling with primitive muscle. The god was bold battling beautiful muscle, trapped by the talented hand of an artisan. The god was trapped in purple-glowing stone. Except for his eyes. His eyes stared down at me, embers. Volcanic embers. In a carved barbaric visage.