The legends had it that the universe was the product of the Leviathan and the Timeless Lady’s lovemaking. The stars and galaxies the void god’s cum splashed and smeared across the goddess’s gorgeous ass and thighs, existing only in the time it took the Leviathan to lovingly wipe her clean.

High priests busied themselves with trying to catch glimpses of this initial, primordial lovemaking. After all, the Timeless Lady was spacetime itself, and the continuous cycle of creation and destruction was a product of her whim and the Leviathan’s inattention when it came to cleaning his lady of his seed. Their own existence was simply a stain he had yet to wipe from her flawless skin. 

The priests spend countless hours in meditative prayer, burying their faces between the thighs of the Lady’s high priestesses and making a fine art of pleasure, all in the hopes that their god will grace them with a glimpse of himself in the midst of coitus.

They hold quarterly conclaves to discuss any visions given by the vast, unknowable god.

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