Flustered, Rogers took a step back. He had never really been attracted to Hannah before, but the way she was throwing herself at him was a huge turn-on, and in this light she looked really appealing. He was finding it really hard to say no.
"You need to…ah…start photographing these frescoes. I'll, um, make a record of the mosaics."
Hannah looked disappointed but did as she was told. Rogers crouched down, more to hide his raging erection than to do any serious study of the floor. God, he was hard! And through his shirt, he could feel his chest tingle. A quick investigation revealed that his nipples were swollen and hard and were rubbing against the fabric. As Rogers checked them out, his hand felt the figurine in his oversized breast pocket. On impulse, he reached inside and felt the smooth skin of the demoness under his fingertips.
Almost immediately, he felt a pressure in his spine, as if something were inside of him trying to get out. He knew he should be worried. He had never believed in folktales or curses but part of him worried about an ancient virus. Yet he was not frightened. And when a writhing, prehensile tail poked over the belt by the seat of his trousers, it came with a feeling of pleasure and relief. He knew that this place and the goddess figure were changing him, but he could not bring himself to assess the situation like a professional. Instead, he wanted more.