My, my, my you were a beautiful nymph. You were a male, but what Greek god didn’t take male lovers? You were a water nymph, but he rarely saw you go towards the ocean, his domain. Always bathing and hanging around the fresh water, ponds, lakes, streams. You especially liked a hot springs.

Maybe he could introduce you to his domain, the sea. He was sure you would love it. He would love to those beautiful eyes if yours widen at the view of vast, endless water.

He would ask you if you wanted to come and see, he wasn’t like his brother, Zeus, no. He wouldn’t force you to come, force you to love him. Even if you were gorgeous.

You were in a stream today, sitting on a rock in your white tunic as you picked at a flower. Always with nature, like most Nymphs.

The God of the water made his approach; rising out of the water, his long hair dripping and falling down his back; which he ran his normal hair through, moving it out his face.

He didn’t bother using his trident right now. He wanted the Nymph to seek comfort and Interest in him. He placed both hands, including his one forged out of water on the rock you were sitting on.