Existing in Heaven and having the ability to walk in and out of Time, two lusty Goddesses take advantage of mortals over and over again.
“Ahhhhhh…” she purred in contentment. “Yes, my daaaaarling. Just like that. Oh! Oh! YES!” She screamed.
She reclined lazily on an old sofa that stank of cigarettes, mold, and expelled lust. One magnificent green eye fluttered open to look at the room. Disgusting, she thought. Repulsive could not even begin to describe the conditions of what had to be the shittiest of apartments. She sighed. Her lover slumped over her body in a drunken stupor. He smells, she thought. A mouse darted back and forth in the corner. Her second eye opened. Focusing in on the noise she noticed that the mouse seemed to be engaged with a cockroach of indecent size over a piece of rotting food. “Son of a bitch…” she breathed. With a groan of frustration she pushed the body of her lover to the decrepit floor. She stretched and moved her arms about her glorious nudity. Evidence of her passion leaked down her inner thighs. She smiled. She took one last look at the filth that surrounded her and then vanished into a shadow.
Another looked out upon the Earth. With eyes as deep and as dark as eternity, she mused at what she saw below her. A world of war and strife, yes, she saw that, but she focused more on what had to be the shittiest of apartments. A shadow appeared next to her, disrupting her attention. She turned toward that shadow and watched the metamorphic change before her eyes.
“Did you really watch me, Saphara?”
Saphara shrugged. “I was bored.”
“Bored? You? What’s the matter, have you really begun to tire of men? After all this time?”
A wicked gleam of white pulsated in those dark eyes, “Never, Makala, will I tire of mortal men. I played with one before returning to our palace. I hadn’t seen you in quite some time and thought I’d catch up on you. You, as I recall, tend to do the same. At least I didn’t try to stop you when you…”
Makala cut her off, “You know why I stopped you.”
“Yes, but I was not in danger of the Falling.”
“It didn’t look like that to me.”
“Well, I wasn’t.” Saphara announced a bit too firmly. Even Celestials had attitudes. “But,” she breathed airily, “I appreciate your concern.”
“And I yours.” Makala nodded towards her fellow Celestial. She waved a perfectly formed hand in the air and conjured two goblets of nectar. The second floated in the air towards Saphara. The two Celestials drank the rich golden liquid until nothing remained in the goblets. The pair remained quiet for a time, slowing observing the life they saw beneath them in their atmospheric palace. A hurricane was beginning to form deep in the middle of the Ocean. A man and his wife made love in their car near a placid lake. Three children were born and five had passed. It was interesting to see all of the things that happened in a single moment. Celestials were gifted much knowledge from Creation and one of those gifts allowed them to observe the God of Time in the truest form. They knew that hours lasted as long as days, that seconds lasted as long as decades, that minutes and eternity were the same. Those units were just easy ways for mortals to digest the infinite magnitude of Time. During that same moment as the hurricane, a pirate ship engaged a slave ship. A giant reptilian beast grazed upon tree branches not but three feet from where the man plundered into this wife. The three children that were born also lived and existed simultaneously during the moment that they were born. The five that had passed were then reborn and reborn again and again, for such is the want of the God of Regeneration. These are the thoughts of a Celestial.
Saphara briefly looked up from what she saw below. Pivoting her head she bore down on the image of Makala. Makala, in her true Celestial form, was a sight to behold. Tall and grand, her body pulsed a vibrant purple. The simple translucent gown of smoke she wore seemed to emanate the energy she exuded. Her hair, if it could be called hair, flowed down to the floor and curled by her dainty feet. Wreathed by fire, her molten tresses glowed orange and yellow and white; her hair literally was aflame. Makala’s eyes depicted a scene like the sea during a storm. Constantly shifting from green to blue she focused softly at all the life she saw.
Saphara, on the other hand, preferred to remain at a smaller stance than her fellow Celestial. Both could be as large as the universe or as small as it could be, but Saphara found it easier to remain the size she took on as a mortal woman. Her body was not visible when she was still; Saphara’s true form existed as an ethereal wisp of black and gray smoke. Whenever she shifted or spoke her body materialized from the smoke. Always naked, Saphara’s body midnight black body sparkled with a myriad of stars. Her hair misted about her form in a silver cloud of energy. Like Makala, Saphara’s eyes shifted from black to white. During concentration, her eye’s appeared to be the darkest that black could be. When she spoke, Saphara’s eyes rapidly changed from white to black, sometimes so quickly that they appeared silver.
Radiating form the mist, Saphara’s eyes shined as she spoke. “I’m going below.”
Makala looked up and smirked, “Still bored?”
Chuckling a rolling laugh Saphara answered, “Slightly.”
“Tis a pity the Gods did not grant you patience during Creation.”
Saphara stood up and motioned her smoking arms apart. In doing so, a rift appeared in the palace floor and fell backward into it. “At least I was granted control!” she thundered back.
“To where are you landing?” asked Makala, annoyed at being reminded of her dominate nature.
“In the midst of a Viking raid.”
“Oooooh, in a rough and violent mood are we?”
“Haha rough mortal sex with a smelly warrior is preferable to a smelly couch!” And with that Saphara had reached the land. Upon contact to the Earth she was transformed into her mortal self and began to run. The Vikings! They were behind her!