You know it's a hot bytch that would be married with the quickness of the death of a thousand stars when you feel that slight rumble in your perineum. An outright erection would be an insult to this goddess. You have to earn the right to get an erection. Arm pits will be licked, teeth will be flossed with the lone long strand of anal hair and kittens will be sacrificed. How magical it would be to have those lips wrapped around my penis as I thrust my man mucus down her tonsils where they will continue their journey, against all known science, to impregnate that goddess. Alas there would be no child as perfection does not procreate, perfection lives and dies with that which was perfected. Praise be.