There’s a Greek God in my bedroom. It’s my best friend’s fault really. She brought a statue in telling me it’d be good luck. I can’t get him out of my head. If I’m not fantasizing about him, I’m doing naughty things to the statue. It all comes to a head when I wake up with him worshipping between my legs. He’s alive and fully functional. He can’t stop professing his desires for me. He says he has a surprise for me when he drags me back to my bedroom. Am I going to lose my heart and body to a former statue?