Celestino glared at Aerric, the storm god. Aerric pretended to adjust his black leather harness, dismissing the questions that Celestino had thrown out at him.
"I asked you a question," shouted Celestino, his fist slamming into the marble armrests of his throne. "You will answer your king!"
Aerric rolled his eyes. He walked to the large window, looking out toward the horizon. He leaned against the wall, one arm against the molding above his head and the other resting on his hip.
"I have no idea what's going on down there. I seriously do not know. I was never in the South then, I was far away from there," he said, not even turning to face Celestino.
"Where were you?" asked the king.
Aerric then turned and smirked. He took his hand off his hip and made a pumping gesture at his crotch.
"I had some...business up north. It was a usually big blizzard...odd for this time of the year, I know, but he was a hottie. I have a lot of leeway up there, and I didn't want to just make it rain. I wanted to completely feel his heat." Aerric grinned, thinking he was clever. "I got...snowed in, as they say...and just couldn't leave." He ran a hand over his chest and the soft leather covering it. A fingertip teased around his nipple, as he remembered the hot northerner caressing his body and worshiping his muscled chest with his tongue.
Celestino ground his teeth as he listened to the impertinent storm god bragging about his sexual adventures. Of course, Celestino thought that Aerric was one of the most beautiful of the gods with his long black hair flowing around his handsome face, and a perfect musculature encased in leather that fitted him like a second skin, accentuating every curve of his hard body. He had to stay mad at him though, to avoid wanting to ravish him totally and completely.
"But that possessed mortal was running around and telling everyone in the Southern flatlands that you came to him and promised to keep the storms away. The farmers everywhere in the flatlands planted their crops early because of this news. He was a trusted man there. Then the worst storms in hundreds of years basically turned the entire region into a mud pit. There will be no harvest this year, unless Uri can devise a plan. And he's fighting with Ruada who believes the land should return to the marshes and swamps they came from. Ari is complaining that marshes are in his domain. Cernunnos is arguing that swamps are 'wet forests' and under his domain. Gods fighting gods. And to top it off, people are calling us evil. They are saying we use them as playthings for our own amusement. They are losing faith in us fast. What's a god without followers?"
"There's always fighting among the Catenarin. And there's always those faithless few who dismiss us. Obviously, that farmer is a liar. Those storms are mandated by a group of us. Some things can't be undone. They are part of a process which I, by myself, can't stop. I can't make promises like that to a mortal...regardless of how ravishing he is," responded Aerric, moving to prop himself against the window sill.
Aerric ran his fingers through his hair, and then grabbed the windowsill edge. His legs stretched out and he crossed his ankles. His muscled thick thighs strained against the tight pants. Celestino had full view of his rippling abdomen and his hard meaty chest pushing against the studded leather harness.
"Not like this. This is different. They're being egged on, pushed at each other," said Celestino. "Look at this. I received this from one of my familiars," he put his hand to his head and projected into Aerric's mind.
Aerric saw Cernunnos walking through a forest. He was walking quickly as if rushing to or from something. Suddenly, as the forest god continued his form began to melt away and he was replaced by Malachi, god of the wind and of whispers. Malachi stopped and looked around, then shot up into the sky as if he was taken by a gust of wind. Then the images went black. Aerric looked at Celestino.
"So Malachi can fly? That is not new."
"No, the transformation."
"Yeah, I figured you'd mention that. So, Cernunnos is the culprit? He can change form now?" asked Aerric, moving toward Celestino.
"No, he was here in the Temple when that happened. Someone is impersonating us gods. This Shaitan is using us to destroy our world and ourselves," Celestino muttered angrily. He yanked at the clasp holding the cape which draped from his shoulders. The cape fell to the floor, leaving the king bare-chested and cooler.
Aerric marveled at the shining rounded muscles of the large dark god. The burnished brown skin was stretched tight over every bulge and ripple. Aerric reached out with both hands and placed them upon the mounds of pectoral muscle. He looked up into the eyes of the god-king and saw in them a coppery red fire and dark smoldering metal, a precious metal statue full of life energy. Aerric's hands traveled down Celestino's body as the storm god fell to his knees. In his worship pose, Aerric grabbed at the wide metal belt around the king's waist, pulling it apart and letting it drop to the floor. The length of material around Celestino's body fell away, leaving him naked in front of the kneeling storm god.
"May I worship you?" Aerric begged, looking up at his god-king.
"Yes," uttered Celestino in a deep almost-growl, lifting his hands to his head and running his fingers through his coal-black hair.
Aerric reached his hand out and grabbed the bronze cock, his fingers unable to encircle it it all. He stuck out his tongue and lapped at the dark satin skin of the cockhead, tasting the leaking tangy saltiness. He pulled his tongue into his mouth and twirled it around, filling his whole mouth with the taste, savoring it before he leaned in and took in the head. His tongue slid around the cock as he pushed himself further down the length, urged on by the deep vibrating growls from the god-king.