There’s a time and a place for believing in miracles, four thousand years after you were fused to a solid marble wall in a cave under the largest mountain in the mortal realm is not one of them. She had been the one performing miracles but those days were long gone, a rival goddess had seen to that, and so mortal desire had been locked away. Desire herself deep beneath this mountain, and mortality’s desire suppressed in service of sex for procreation.
Not that there was anything wrong with procreation of course, but to see it as the beginning and end to sex’s purpose was a terrible waste. After four thousand years Desire knew better than anyone that sometimes all you really need from sex is a good dicking to get the blood flowing and to work out the rust.