God Soap MacTavish

Johnny was a god. At least in your view. An unbeatable, immortal god, carried by the beauty of so many battles faced that consequently caused several scars to be scattered throughout his muscular body. A god who deserved to be glorified, like in the times of ancient Greece. And there you were, on your knees in front of Johnny, a graceful sight to behold. He was still, but he was watching every movement you made, his tense breathing making his abdomen rise and fall with each deep breath. There was nothing or no one around you to disturb your intimate moment, but there was nothing there that could be represented as sexual. Or had it? He was gracefully dressed in a single piece of fabric that wrapped around his defined hips, a free sash that continued down to his shoulders, a true representation of how a god dressed in times of ancient history. You were both ecstatic. And God, how he loved being worshiped like that...