7 comments/  45647 views/  10 favorites

Ambrosia

By: MayhemLass



The aching in her breasts alerted her that it was almost time for Him to arrive home. Her face, had anyone been there to see that sweet, lovely countenance, lit up, the blue eyes brilliant and soft as she contemplated His imminent arrival. 

She had been busy all day, scrubbing and cleaning and cooking up a storm, a delectable feast for His palate. Hurrying now, she gave a quick glance around, nodding unconsciously at the spotless house. The odour of beeswax from polished furniture wafted across the still, cool air of the house, twining with a hint of sweet vanilla in the background from the pure wax candles she loved. 

Hurrying to their room, Linny shed her workaday clothes as she headed for the luxuriously appointed bathroom. Every time she looked around, she was reminded of His generous heart, His thoughtfulness, and love. Pulling her tee shirt over the silken blond tresses, she shook her head out, a shower of golden sunlight settling around her shoulders and spilling down her back. The fine boned narrow shoulders almost seemed too delicate for the heavy, pale breasts, which stood so proudly on her narrow torso. Translucent skin, networked by a delicate blue tracery of veins, the large areoles, and the swollen engorged rosy nipples were breathtaking. The heavy underhang of her large breasts begged to be cupped and licked, something He did frequently and with great pleasure to both. Linny's waist was narrow and slender, sweeping out to rich hips, a beautiful belly and long, gorgeous legs. Her buttocks, full and heart shaped bore the marks of His love, fading stripes, delicately pink yet obvious on the pale Nordic skin.

Bending, her heavy breasts swinging, Linny started the shower. A twinge in her breasts concerned her for a moment, and cupping one large orb, she squeezed its heavy flesh tentatively. God, she was so ready! Looking down, Linny could see the tiny raised bumps encircling the jutting nipple, each swollen duct full of sweet rich milk. As she squeezed carefully, a droplet of translucent milk squeezed out of one tiny little duct, hanging enticingly at the edge of the crimson bud.

Stepping in, Linny was careful to keep the shower fairly cool and to keep those warm, full breasts away from the direct spray. He would be expecting His little girl to feed her Daddy when He arrived home, tired and stressed from a long day's work and the last thing she needed was hot water teasing her swollen breasts into letting down their bounty to useless porcelain.

Efficient, a fluttering in her stomach presaging His arrival, Linny washed with the rich emollient soap He bought her, carefully cupping and rubbing a cloth softly over her heavy breasts and between the long legs. Spreading her thighs, she ran a quick razor over the long, pink slit with its pale pretty lips and deep red gash, ensuring that her entire cunt was smooth and slippery, just as He liked it.

In the adjoining bedroom, the clock radio clicked on, classical music wafting through the steam of the bathroom. 

As she stepped out of the glass-enclosed shower staff, Linny paused. Picking up the heavy Egyptian cloth towels He insisted on ("my baby only gets the best next to her pretty skin"), Linny's heart felt as if it would overflow. Life had not been easy, a soft heart and a naive soul had led her to trust where trust should never have been offered. In her 40+ years, pain, disillusionment and unhappiness had been her lot, alleviated only by the love and joy in her daughters.

Then He came.

A big, handsome man, with blue eyes that could soften and make her heart melt, whose big soul knew how to soothe and whose love and sweet concern soothed cracks in her soul she hadn't know existed. Like herself, His earlier years had been hard ones, a bleak existence whose only bright spot was his beloved child.

And as her dearest Danny, her very own Daddy-Dom, enveloped her in his big arms, despite being a grown woman, Linny had felt for the first time, enveloped, protected and adored. Her heart and soul expanded as together they soothed each other's scars and learned to love again. Sometimes, lying wrapped in His arms at night, His quiet breathing in her ear, Linny wondered how two adults who had already lived a lifetime, could have been so lucky as to find their other half. It was as if they had had to suffer the indignities and the agony of their earlier years in order to embrace and appreciate the magnitude of what they now had.

Shaking herself, she stepped into the bedroom, padding to the closet, breasts jouncing, and the smooth apple cheeked buttocks flexing. He had emailed her earlier, telling her that tonight He wished her naked, shoes and stockings only but her breasts and cunt, His property, free and accessible to His gaze and touch.

As she thought of His mouth and that delicious sweet prick, Linny felt herself moisten between her legs. A little ashamed at how quickly even the thought of Him aroused her, she allowed herself to reach between her thighs and ran a long, slender finger along the length of her tight slit, pausing at the apex of the tight vee, and touching gently, the swelling clitoris which began to raise its impudent head between the labia.

Then sitting down on the bed, she pulled a silken stocking up the shapely calf, careful not to snag, the legs smooth and waxed, nothing marring their pale creamy surface. standing, she fastened the pink garter belt around her narrow waist, snapping the stockings to its dangling ribbons.

Opening her cupboard, she contemplated the array of stilettos critically, settling finally on a sexy strappy concoction of narrow straps and 4-inch stiletto heels. Bending, she savoured the feel of her breasts hanging freely from her chest, their aching fullness starting to sting. 

Carefully making her way downstairs on the narrow heels, her breasts jouncing with each careful step, Linny quickly checked the oven, put the kettle on to boil and uncorked the wine. Then entering the living room with its rich persian carpet, luxurious and deep piled, the comfortable wide seated couches piled with cushions in rich silks and vibrant brocades, she sat, the long shapely legs crossed demurely at the ankles. Waning sunlight sent tendrils of liquid gold to spark on the deep blue of the carpet through mullioned windows, muted and soft on her pale skin as she sat quietly on the couch. Content, almost dozing, she was aware in a quiet part of her mind of the increasing fullness of her breasts. Her nipples, engorged and crimson, glistened as almost translucent drops slowly oozed from their yearning tips.

Linny opened soft, unfocused eyes as the grandfather clock in the hallway marked the hour. Pain began to intrude on her almost meditative state but before she could get agitated she heard His key in the door.

Joy leapt in her big warm heart as her Lord and Master, her Daddy entered. Closing her eyes, she took a deep cleansing breath, the smell of His cologne drifting to her very soul. 

Entering the quiet room, strains of classical music drifting from the bedroom upstairs, Danny saw His little girl waiting patiently for His return. The silky golden hair spilled over the pale narrow shoulders, framing the fine boned face and huge blue eyes, which blazed out their love and devotion, making Him, catch His breath. He marveled, as He took in the sight of His beautiful pet, His precious little girl, her sweet curving waist, the swelling beautiful hips and those long gorgeous legs, silken and smooth in pale white stockings. But most of all, His gaze was drawn to those big beautiful breasts, now swollen and firm. 

Standing in front of her, He drank in the sight of those life giving organs, the pale translucent skin with its tracing of blue veins and pink striations, the large areoles and engorged shining nipples. Leaning, He ran a yearning hand over their bounty, feeling with sensitive fingers the bumps and swellings of each swollen duct.

Smiling up at Him, her big gorgeous Daddy, Linny felt her heart overflow. His handsome face was tired, she noted, but still the soft blue eyes paternal and loving, caressed her face with their soft gaze. The full moustache framing His sexy mouth made her stomach clench as unbidden, she thought of that soft hair tickling between her legs. Unseen, a translucent stream squeezed out of her tight warm cunt to trickle down between her thighs.

"Is Baby Girl ready to feed her Daddy?"

His voice, resonant and deep, touched Linny to her soul and she shivered, as excited as a puppy at its Master's voice. Her breasts seemed to yearn toward him and suddenly a small stream trickled out of the crimson nipple to drip on her stockings.

"Yes, Daddy, your little girl is all ready to feed her dearest." 

Linny's voice was sweet and high, its innocence and beauty striking awe in His soul as His little one gazed trustingly up at him.

Sitting beside her where she sat at the far right of the couch, Danny almost groaned as the stress of the day began to recede. He could smell the soft, milky scent of His baby and His mouth began to water. 

Linny reached to her right and grabbed the nursing cushion her Daddy had bought her to ensure no undue strain disturbed His little one. Settling it under her right arm, she reached for her beloved Daddy and with a sigh; He stretched His big masculine length along the roomy cough, settling His head on His baby's lap. 

Carefully, Linny cupped one heavy breast. The pain was sharp now as her ducts strained to release their fragrant bounty. A throbbing and almost feverish ache made her a little light-headed. He was a bit late tonight and her breasts were overdue. 

Danny's head was pulled tight against her right breast, the left breast, heavy and engorged lay against her Daddy's chest. Carefully, Linny put a towel under its warm weight.

Then, skillfully, cupping the breast, her fingers squeezing the heavy nipple, Linny brushed the rubbery teat against her Daddy's mouth. Playfully, Danny kept His lips closed. Using her left hand, Linny pretended to be cross.

"Come Daddy, you have to drink your milk, like a good boy! Your little girl's titties have to be drained."

Tangling her long slender fingers in the thick hair, Linny turned His beloved face towards her breast, again pushing the nipple against the sensuous mouth. Unable to resist, Danny opened His lips.

Sighing, anticipating the release and feeling the throbbing increase, Linny carefully pushed the nipple up against the back of His tongue, His lips fastening on the dusky pink areoles, their sensitive surfaces feeling the throbbing ducts.

Closing His eyes, Danny began to suckle strongly, pulling that long spongy teat to the back of His mouth, His lips working strongly on the looming breast flesh now filling His mouth. Linny used her fingers to push the swelling breast away from Daddy's nose, holding the breast firmly against the suckling mouth but giving him room to breath over its burgeoning flesh.

Closing her eyes, she waited as synapses crackled and snapped and a message was sent to her brain at the feel of His beloved mouth suckling her swollen tit.

She groaned, as the aching increased, then suddenly relief overwhelmed her, as with a gush, the damn opened and her milk let down.

Danny almost choked as suddenly long hot streams of delicious liquid began to spurt down the back of His throat. Gurgling, He began to swallow, His mouth working strongly at the throbbing breast filling His mouth. He could taste each individual spurt and would pause for a moment, letting His mouth fill, then swallow, His throat working convulsively, determined not to lose a drop of this elixir.

Lost in ecstasy, He nuzzled into the soft fragrant breast, sucking strongly, making little noises of contentment in His throat. Distantly, He was aware of dampness on His chest, as Linny's milk spurted out of the left breast as well. His pants began to strain as His prick began to thicken and lengthen.

Linny sat back against the couch back, her arm cupped comfortably on the nursing pillow, the heavy warm head of her Daddy against her breast, suckling strongly.

The relief from the aching and throbbing of the past hour was indescribable, a sensuous letting down that made her breath catch and her womb contract. With each strong suckle, Linny felt as if a live wire attaching her nipple to her womb suddenly grew taut and hot. Almost unaware, she felt her cunt swell and expand, moistness springing up between the taut thighs.

As the first strong spurts of milk began to subside and as Danny drank His fill, the milky scent of His darling's lactating breast filled His nostrils. But faintly first, His sensitive nose began to scent something else, a musky clean odour that wafted to tickle His senses and cause His heavy prick to stiffen further. 

Moving slightly, He got His hand under His body, pushing it insistently between His darling's thighs. Obediently, Linny parted her legs, giving her beloved papa access to her cunt.

Still suckling strongly, Danny was able to run His fingers along His little girl's moist slit. He was pleased to find her wet and grunted over the mouthful of heavy breast. Barely touching the swollen clit which He readily found poking its impudent head from between her plump labia, Danny slid His finger down further to her center. 

Pulling back, Danny smiled up at His little girl. Her eyes, soft and dreamy, gazed down at her Daddy suckling at her breast. Letting go of the swollen nipple, Danny pulled back. A fine spray of milk arched out of the swollen tip to splatter against His cheeks and leave pale ivory droplets in His thick moustache.

Cupping her throbbing breast, Linny grinned and faking sternness, directed the swollen teat toward her Daddy's mouth yet again.

Sighing, taking a deep breath, Danny fastened His mouth over the tip of the moist breast and at the same time, sank two fingers deep within His little girl's warm, clinging cunt.

Linny groaned as the dual sensations of her Daddy's warm sucking mouth and strong, blunt fingers pushing deep into her almost triggered an orgasm.

Almost blindly, her hand drifted down from her spewing breast to rub the swollen front of her papa's pants. Trembling, eager, she unzipped and unbuttoned and then reaching in, with some difficulty pulled out the swollen throbbing cock of her Daddy.

Precum leaked in a translucent stream from its swollen tip, the little eye winking wetly. Eyes slitted, Linny ran a soft finger along the glistening tip of Daddy's prick, scooping up some of the sticky liquid and bringing it to her lips, opened her mouth, her pink tongue lapping eagerly at the tart, musky taste.

Danny's prick felt as if it were an iron bar. Throbbing, almost painful, He sucked almost desperately, swallowing big gulps of sweet breast milk, relishing the feel of its warm bounty spurting down the back of His throat. His fingers, coated with His little one's hot, sticky juices, thrust harshly in that warm clinging cunt.

With a pop, Danny released His suction on the warm breast. Pulling back and ignoring Linny's inarticulate cry of distress, He swung himself up and stood, His prick's crimson tip trembling, the white swollen shaft with its tracing of bulging veins staring straight at His Linny's face.

Linny, blindly reached for that delicious cock, her mouth watering. Milk, still spurting weakly now from the heavy breasts, which were softer and hung lower with their delicious bounty trickling away, glistened as they dripped rivulets of pale bluish milk down to her sweet waist.

Danny took His baby's shoulders and shoving and moving her, had her swing round, her head down and that sweet succulent ass in the air as she knelt on the couch.

He stood back for a moment, drinking in the sight of His little girl, helpless and open to whatever He chose to do. Her entire cunt and ass were visible and open to him – the long pink slit with its deep red gash gaping slightly, trickles of clear liquid running in rivulets down its pale smooth lips. The rosy furled beauty of her fundament beckoned His finger and tongue, but resisting, Danny took His own throbbing member in hand and pushing close, poked its swollen crimson head at the mouth of her womb.

Linny moaned as she felt the warmth of her Daddy's cock against her cunt. Wiggling that delicious ass, she tried to push back.

Danny brought a strong heavy palm down hard against the soft flesh of her ass. Linny cried out as the slap stung and echoed. He admired the imprint of His palm and fingers for a moment before bringing His hand down on the other pale cheek.

Slap, slap, slap. Pink bloomed and faded, crimson finger marks appeared then died back and all the while Linny's cunt grew more swollen, the moisture running down the luscious thighs to her knees.

Then judging her ready and unable to wait, Danny held the warm, vibrant hips tightly in His strong hands and surging forward, thrust His throbbing prick right up the warm clinging folds of her cunt.

Lin cried out as the hot swollen member pierced her. She felt rent asunder and her breasts, still leaking hot milk, throbbed in sympathy as her Daddy pushed His cock up into her most secret place.

Danny rested for a moment, closing His eyes and relishing the feel of His prick so warmly enclosed and squeezed in a delectable cunt. It was almost too tight, and felt a bit like His prick was in a delicious vice. Then pulling back, He grinned as He heard His pet's inarticulate cry of distress.

Harshly now, He thrust back in, long measured strokes that sheathed His cock as deep as it would go to the point where He felt the swollen mushroom tip hit His little girl's cervix.

Rhythmically, Danny began to fuck His little girl, relishing the feel of her clinging lips, the throb of His prick in its tight prison, the moans and grunts of a little girl getting well and truly fucked.

He could feel His balls drawing up into His groin, while His prick seemed to swell even more. Reluctantly, but determined, He pulled His glistening cock out of its delicious prison.

Linny looked up, the long hair spilling along the cushions of the couch, her eyes glazed and inward looking. 

"Daddy?" she asked plaintively.

Crooning, Danny ran a now gentle hand along the soft buttocks, where bruises were already beginning to form. Her long pink gash was slippery and wet, drooling clear liquid. Looking closely, He could see the swollen engorged clit pushing out from between her lips.

"Time for baby to have her milk," He said gently.

Linny's eyes lit up. Eagerly, she scrambled to lean against the back of the couch, making room for Daddy.

Stripping off His pants, His swollen prick bobbing, Danny arranged it so that He and Linny were opposite, His mouth at her luscious cunt, her mouth breathing warm breath on His eager prick.

"Drink your milk, baby, drink it up for your Daddy."

Linny happily complied, and opening her soft mouth wide, engulfed His reeking prick in her warm cavern. Her tongue eagerly licked the combined juices from its swollen, veiny surface, teasing the swollen tip and dipping into the winking eye.

Pushing her thigh up, Danny pushed His face between His baby's legs, taking a deep breath of her woman's musk.

With a broad sweep, His tongue licked up the drooling bounty from between the swollen labia, pushing His tongue deep inside then moving up to concentrate on the greedy clit.

Lin moaned, small inarticulate cries as she sucked feverishly at her Daddy's prick, her cheeks hollowing as she tried to pull its length right down her throat.

She could feel her breasts leaking and throbbing against her Daddy's chest and her thighs tightened against His beloved head as her excitement began to reach a fever pitch.

Danny felt His balls tighten. The combination of His baby's scent and taste, the warmth pouring from between those delicious lips and the feel of her warm mouth on His throbbing cock was bringing him over.


Ambrosia



Moving His head back, He said breathlessly.

"It's coming, baby girl, your Daddy's milk is coming. Now drink it all up."

With that, a surge of pure ecstasy roiled up from His very soil, and with a yell of elation, Danny's cock erupted.

Long hot spurts, burning and stinging erupted down Linny's throat. Choking, her throat worked convulsively as she struggled to swallow all her delicious man milk.

Feeling the hot tangy sperm filling her mouth, the liquid hot feel of her Daddy's cum slashing at her tongue, filling her throat, Lin began to shake and suddenly, as she felt her Daddy's sucking lips at her clit, tightened her thighs and with a gush of hot liquid, came into His mouth.

Shaking, trembling, Daddy and His little girl pushed harshly against each other, emptying their lust and love into each other's willing mouths. Choking and drinking, Linny eagerly swallowed all her Daddy's warm, delicious cum. As the spurts began to weaken, the throbbing cock emptying its hot treasure into her mouth, Linny was able to roll the thick, creamy milk around her tongue, teasing out the taste and essence and teasing her palette with its delicious flavour. Her own thighs fell open from their stranglehold around Daddy's head and Danny licked and sucked His baby's cunt thoroughly, making sure to lick up the hot creamy cum which had gushed from her warm cunt.

Breathing heavily, Daddy and His little girl rested, their eyes closed as a delicious lassitude of total contentment enveloped them. Pushing himself around, Danny pulled himself up slightly and gathered His little one into His strong arms. Linny, delicate and sweet, her limbs relaxed and soft nestled into her Daddy Dom's lap, protected and loved and safe in his arms forever. 



Ambrosia



This is actually two stories, "The Father" and "Ambrosia". Literotica won't allow a story less than 750 words, and "The Father" is less then 200, so I squeezed it in here, because its very similar in both setting and tone.

— Author

@ @ @ @ @

The Father

His sister Hera, in one of her moments of bitchiness, refused to share his bed this evening. Zeus, in his frustration and anger, held his mighty staff in his hand, using all of the power he could muster.

With a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning, he rained cum down on the ancient Greeks in the form of a mighty storm, impregnating hundreds in his wicked moment of auto erotic lust, creating an entire bloodline of new artists and scientists and intellectuals, gifted with the talents inherited by having a lusty god for a father.

"Jesus Christ," Hera yelled from two planets away. "I hope you're going to clean up that mess."

He smiled, leaving it unattended.

Most of the descendants of that one storm went on to write erotica on the Internet, posting primarily on Literotica, where incest is the widely preferred fetish of choice.

@ @ @ @ @

Ambrosia

"You have to go over the guest list with me," Hera said.

With his back safely to her, Zeus rolled his eyes. His sister, the Greek goddess of love and marriage, was definitely not also the goddess of parties. She stressed out too much. She wanted everything to be perfect.

But parties made her horny, and she was a fantastic lay, so Zeus went along with it. Her sexual talents were the main reason he'd married her, that and because she was, after all, the Greek goddess of love and marriage. Who was better suited to become the consort of the king of the gods?

He picked up one of the paper cups to get a better look at the pattern wrapped around its side, and winced. The cups featured a parade of satyrs and nymphs engaged in a variety of curious, entertaining, and sometimes physically impossible acts of love.  

It wasn't that he minded the pictures. They were both amusing and arousing. They just really didn't fit with the theme of the party. Satyrs and nymphs weren't very closely related to each other, and they weren't quite gods. Still, the goat hooves and barely nubile bodies had a definite appeal.

"Are you listening?" she asked. "Come on, the first couples will be here any minute."

He turned to her, glassy eyed but reconciled to his fate. Actually being married to his sister was very different from what he'd expected it to be. Obviously she was good in bed, and she was a goddess, after all, but beyond that, she really had turned into something of a matronly shrew. She had her charms in the sack, yes, but he could have shared them whenever he wished and still married someone else. He'd certainly had enough other lovers since he'd married her.

"First, all of the usuals will be here. All the Egyptians we know, Tefnut and Shu, and their two kids Nut and Geb, and their four chidren Set and Osiris, and the twin girls, Nephthys and Isis."

"Are they going to stay on opposite sides of the room, never talking, like usual?"

Hera gave him an icy, condescending stare.

"Set cut off and lost their brother's penis, dear. Isis was rather fond of that penis. You can hardly expect them to be more than politely civil to each other after that, even if they are family."

"So what? She made him a new one, didn't she? Odds are, she made some improvements on it at the same time. I'm sure she's quite happy with things now. I always see her smiling."

Hera continued down the list, ignoring his sordid observations.

"Njord is leaving his giantess wife at home, thank goodness, and more properly bringing his sister Nirdu, and their two kids, the twins, Freyr and Freyja."

"He finally talked them into it? But I thought they didn't..."

"They still say they don't. I think it's kind of cute the way they're so coy about it. But Loki insists that they do, even if they won't admit it. Freyja loves erotic poetry, I hear. There's no way she and her brother Freyr aren't..."

"Of course they are. I can't believe they feel the need to hide it. We're gods, for Christ's sake. It's what we do. Okay, well, who else?"

He'd let a hint of growing impatience creep into his voice, earning him a long, silent glare from his sister before she continued.

"Let's see, umm, and then we have the twins, Yama and his twin sister Yami, from India."

"Another god of the dead? And they both are. I don't know why the Hindus need two. But so's Osiris. And Hades. Too many gods of the dead. Why so many gods of the dead? It's supposed to be a party," he said gloomily.

"I guess gods of the dead like parties," she answered, "and their sisters." She added that last part with a loving, leering twinkle in her eye. She was clearly trying to lighten his mood.

"Hades doesn't," Zeus said, trying to be difficult. "He's into his niece, Persephone."

"You've been into your daughter, too, if I recall, and she's your niece, as well," Hera said a touch frostily. She never let him forget that little episode. "Oh, and Persephone's bringing Dionysos. He's bringing the wine."

"That little faggot?"

"Zeus, hush. He's your son. And your grandson. And your grandnephew. Anyway, he just looks effeminate."

"I don't see him hooking up with his sister, or anyone else, for that matter."

"He doesn't have a sister, and you know it. And don't even think about giving him one. You and that slut Demeter are not having another child."

"Don't talk about our sister that way, dear."

"Anyway, Demeter is coming with Poseidon."

Zeus let his eyes glaze over again. Poseidon was the smart brother, he thought. Dad always said he was smarter. He'd certainly picked the right sister to marry. If Zeus had known then what rang her bell, he could have turned himself into a stallion for her, too. Poseidon just thought of it first.

He got her eventually, though, without having to marry her. Fuck, he was Zeus, he'd gotten just about every woman there was, and Hera only caught about half of them. Too bad she tended to turn them into unspeakable monsters and things when she did.

But Demeter was a wild fuck, and Hera wouldn't dare touch her. She was almost as good in bed as their daughter.

"Are you listening to me?" Hera was asking.

"What? Oh, yes dear."

"Like I said, no turning into some outrageously well endowed animal tonight, do you hear me? Not you, or your brother The Great God of the Seas," she said sarcastically. "And no slipping off with any of the guests. The both of you are to stay in human form, with Demeter and me and the rest of the guests. Do you hear me?"

He grinned at her, reaching out to rub her cheek tenderly with the back of his hand.

"You got quite raucous last night when I took the form of a bull, didn't you, dear?"

Hera blushed. She really was sweet when he pushed the right buttons, and when he found the right kink to please her particular sexual appetite of the moment. She was a complex woman, a very complex woman. Hell, of course she was. She was a goddess.

"Yes, well, that was last night, and with me. Not at this party, thank you," she scolded, but rather meekly. When he got her both flustered and aroused, she was so cute. It was very endearing. Maybe they had time for a quickie before the party.

She held his eyes, before dropping them to her list.

"And I have three surprise guests, a father and his son and daughter."

"What? Who?" Zues said, shifting to try to read the names on her list. She snatched it back and held it against her ample breast before he came close.

"That's my surprise," she said, eyes twinkling "Now go make sure there are enough of those little satyr and nymph napkins at all of the tables, and pour the ambrosia into the bowls. The guests will be here any minute."

* * *

The great hall of Olympus, as large as it was, was almost packed with gods and goddesses of every shape, size, form and nationality. It was quite an assemblage. Zeus hovered around for a while, just listening in on conversations, while he tried to figure out whom his next consort might be.

More and more gods and goddesses arrived every moment. Zeus kept looking for the mystery guests, but there was no sign of them, no omens, no portents, no oracles, nothing. Curiosity was killing him. He thought he knew all the gods.

* * *

Poseidon stood by the door with Demeter, greeting the guests. He'd beaten Zeus to the job by volunteering before the issue came up. This way, he'd be the first to meet the mystery guests.

A rather ornate oriental chariot arrived. It was Fu Xi, and his sister Numa, from China. Poseidon remembered talking to them at the last party.

"Talk about a couple that can't keep their hands off each other," his sister said in a soft voice, while they were exiting the chariot. "Did you know they single handedly repopulated China after the flood?"

"I doubt he did that with his hands," he replied, before smiling warmly to welcome them.

* * *

"So, Isis, I've been meaning to ask you," Gaia said. She was draped lasciviously over the shoulder of her son Ouranus, virtually smothering him. He smiled happily as he nuzzled her ear seductively. At the same time, her hands never stopped moving over his body.

"Yes, Gaia, ask her," chimed in Xochiquetzal. "We really must know."

Isis looked the woman over. She was short, with very dark skin and hair, and a round, slightly heart shaped face. She was certainly pretty, though, and very lusty, very fitting for a goddess of love and sexual pleasure. Not many religions actually had a goddess of sexual pleasure, she thought. The Aztecs were an interesting people.

"Go ahead," she said.

"No, I can't. Xochi, dear, you ask her."

The Aztec goddess looked furtively around before continuing, searching the room. Her eyes fell upon her own twin brother, Xochipilli, himself the Aztec god of beauty, dance and flowers. He was the patron of homosexuals and gay prostitutes, supposedly, but Isis didn't buy it. They could pretend all they wanted, she thought, but the goddess of sexual pleasure and her brother, almost a god of sexual pleasure himself, were simply not as chaste with each other as they pretended. 

They were as bad as Freyr and Freyja, dancing around the subject and never admitting to it. You'd think they were all human.

Once Xochiquetzal seemed sure that her brother wasn't close enough to hear, she continued, after first lowering her voice.

"Okay, Isis," she said, "I know this is a touchy subject."

They were going to ask about his cock, she realized, stiffening and preparing herself. Someone always asked it at every one of these parties. Gaia had even heard it all before, but was clearly playing along for Xochiquetzal's sake, and because she just liked the subject.

"When Set cut off your brother's, um, phallus..."

"His cock."

"Yes, his cock. When Set cut off Osiris' cock, and you made him a new one..."

"Yes?"

"How much bigger did you make it?"

Isis held the woman's eyes. She wanted to ask her how much bigger she would have made her own brother's cock, had she been put into in that position, but she held her tongue.

"Four inches."

The Aztec goddess's almond shaped eyes became wide circles. Gaia giggled.

"Four? Four? Oh dear. How long...?"

"Eleven inches in the end, give or take."

"Wow. A whole four. Wasn't he insulted? I mean, didn't he think that meant he didn't have enough to satisfy you before?"

"No, not at all," Isis said, smiling. "I just put on my innocent, little girl eyes and told him that that was how I remembered it, as I gently rubbed his new cock through his tunic. He bought the whole thing. The dumb shit still hasn't stopped grinning. He virtually wouldn't stop using it for a few centuries after I told him that. I barely got any rest."

The girls all had a good laugh. Isis didn't even mention how much she'd added to it in thickness, too, or how she'd added a sweet little extra double curve and twist to it, and those were the best parts.

* * *

Every head was instantly aimed at the door. People leaned and twisted and teetered, trying to get a view of the new guests.

"Jesus Christ!" said Zeus.

"Oh, shit, not him. Why would anyone invite him to a party like this? Those are the three mystery guests? The father, the son, and the holy..."

"No, no, I don't mean that's who it is, I was, you know, blaspheming."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't take my name in vain," said Hades.

"Mine, either," said Set.

"Same here," said Njord.

"Who'd take your name in vain, anyway?" Set asked him derisively.

"All right, all right," Zeus cut in, trying to forestall a feud that would probably last a millennium. They always did. "Calm down. Jesu... I mean, look, do you want to know who it was?"

"Yeah. Did you see them?"

"Yup. Poseidon is greeting them at the door now. The girl looks pretty hot."

"Well, come on. Who is it?"

* * *

He wore glasses. Gods don't wear glasses, but he did, wire framed ones, that made him look like an intellectual.

They must be an affectation, Poseidon thought, just put there for his believers. He can't actually need them. He's a god.

The next thing one noticed were his eyes. They were wild. They were frantic. They darted left and right and up and down. They rolled up behind lazily half closing lids, so only the whites of his eyes showed. Then they would snap abruptly open, stretching wide, as if he'd just remembered that he'd left the iron on. Then they darted about again.

The damn things never stopped for one flipping moment. It was quite irritating.

Beside him stood his son and daughter, barely into their twenties, if that, Poseidon thought. The boy's eyes were the polar opposites of his father's, unmoving, glazed over and bleary almost to the point of being unseeing. They were continuously focused off in the distance. Poseidon had never seen such bloodshot eyes in his life. It was as if the boy had been up for days studying for an exam.

He also sported the most embarrassing bulge in his pants that Poseidon had ever scene. It was like the kid had a permanent erection.

The girl, though, was a delight. She was an absolute treasure. Poseidon glanced at Demeter, to see how jealous she was getting. It was hard not to keep his attention on the little waif. She was so very enchanting.

He didn't think he'd ever seen a girl with such sex appeal. She was shy, even demure, but she glowed. She seemed clever and fumbling, both at once, and the twinkle in her eye told him that as shy and innocent as she acted, he could take her whenever he wished, many times over, and she would enjoy it and beg for more like the total slut she really was.

He presented himself very properly to the father, first, mostly for Demeter's sake.

"Hi. I'm Poseidon," he said, extending a hand.

"Poseidon Adventure, Hollywood film, 1972, imdb.com. Poseidon, Greek god of the sea, en.wikipedia.org. Poseidon Submersibles, designer of commercial submarines and mini-subs, poseidondown.com..."

Poseidon and Demeter glanced at each other uneasily.

"This is my wife and sister, Demeter."

"Demeter, Greek goddess of grain and fertility, en.wikipedia.org. Demeter USA, manufacturer of harvesting equipment, demeterharvest.com..."

"Are these your children?" Demeter asked politely, trying to ignore his bizarre behavior.

"Children's Medical Issues, articles and insights on the health and well being of your child, childmed.org..."

The girl stepped hastily forward, in front of her rambling father, while extending a small, feminine hand. Poseidon took it in his. He was instantly drawn in by the sensual feel and soft warmth of her fingers slipping over his. He couldn't resist the urge to place his second hand on top of hers. To hell with Demeter, he thought. This was the girl he wanted tonight.

He wondered if she liked stallions.

"Hi, my name's Literotica," she said. "This is my brother, Porno. And that's my father, The Internet. Don't mind him. He's always sort of overwhelmed with new information, more and more, all the time. It's kind of his thing."

She scrunched up her nose as she said it, with a little roll of the eyes that said "he's embarrassing, but he's my father, so what can I do?"

"My dear, it's a pleasure to meet you," Poseidon told her, trying to charm her with a comforting, mature, fatherly gaze.

"Yes, a pleasure," Demeter said frostily, pointedly pulling Poseidon's hands from the girl's, before possessively looping her own arms through his.

"Oh, I'm all about pleasure," the young girl said, but with all of her attention directed to Demeter. Poseidon saw a glimmer there, a connection, shared between the girl and his sister. For her part, Demeter seemed to melt some. She shifted uneasily on one foot, before smiling warmly and advancing to leave his own arm and take the girl's. 

"Well, aren't you a sweetheart," Demeter told her as she lead her away. "Come, I'll introduce you to all of the right gods and goddesses."

This young girl certainly was alluring, Poseidon thought. He wondered what her godhood covered, what her specialty was.

There might be an opportunity here, he thought, for something very interesting near the end of the party. That was, if he could lose her bleary eyed brother and her rather eccentric, incoherent father.

* * *

Brahma, the Indian god of creation, stood beside his half-sister and wife, Sarai-svati, herself the goddess of knowledge, music and the arts. She clung to him as she always did, with a little too much and too obvious affection for his austere nature. She held his one hand in hers, with her other arm around his waist, almost on his ass, and her other arm around his shoulder. 

At least here at the party she used her fourth hand to hold her drink. Usually, that one was fumbling around under the front of his robes.

Sarai, being a goddess of knowledge, was of course unabashedly eager to talk to The Internet. Brahma himself was more interested in Porno at the moment. So were the Greek gods Oceanus, and his sister Tethys, and Erebus, and his sister Nyx. In fact, a lot of the gods were trying to get some face time with Porno.

"So, Porno," Brahma began with something of a leer. "I hear you have an interesting collection of art. Something they say rivals the Kama Sutra."

"Oh, yes," Porno said, snapping out of his dreamlike state. He took on a new energy the moment this subject came up. "Would you like to see? What would you like to see? I have pictures of just about everything. Movies, too..."

"I'm sorry," Tethys interrupted. "I hadn't heard this yet. Apparently the boys all know, though. What did you say your domain was?"

"Oh, I have thousands of domain names," Porno answered. "Most of them are dot coms, and they keep talking about making one just for me, dot xxx. But I don't think you want me to list all of the actual names, do you? Although some of them are rather enticing..."

Brahma and Sarai and Tethys and the rest stood blinking at him in confusion.

"What did he say?" asked Sarai.

"No idea. It's Greek to me," said Brahma.

They both turned to Oceanus.

"Don't ask me," he said. "It's Greek to me, too... er, not Greek, I mean, I am Greek, but, fuck, I don't know... I don't know what he said."

* * *

The entire room was buzzing about the new guests. Gods were either talking about them, critiquing them like contestants on a reality TV show, or else they schemed and plotted to meet them, or rather, to meet Literotica.

"Is that her?" asked Erebus.

"Is that her?" asked Osiris.

"Is that her?" asked another.

"Is that her?"

"Fuck," the Egyptian god Thoth said. "Did someone invite Echo? I hope not. She can be so fucking annoying at parties."

"... at parties," Freyr said.

"... at parties," Hera said.




Ambrosia



"... at parties," Another said.

"... at parties."

* * *

Set eyed her carefully, from behind Nephthys, where his sister couldn't see his obvious interest in the girl, and so become jealous. The girl, Literotica, was a real beauty. Not in the Greek, voluptuous, full bodied way, or the Japanese petite, innocent way, or the Norse athletic, endlessly blond way. Literotica was properly proportioned, thin, copper skinned, black haired, with dark, enchanting, intelligent eyes. 

She even wore proper Egyptian attire for a woman, a tight fitting ankle length dress, which ended just below pert breasts, exposing their beauty capped with round, dark nipples . He wondered if she would enjoy the sight of his unusual animal head as he made love to her.

Hades studied Literotica intently. Persephone noticed, but didn't seem to care. She seemed to be intent on winning her father's affections again this evening. She just had better make sure that Hera didn't turn her into a half goat, half serpent, or a hydra or something else hideous.

But Literotica, she was a precious, young treasure herself. She had a full, well proportioned body, with a nice, firm, well rounded ass. She wasn't one of these skinny, bony assed waifs that modern mortals termed beautiful. She even wore a proper tunic, although it hung sinfully loose and open, frequently exposing one or both of her full, pale, round breasts, if you caught her at the right angle at the right moment. 

She was a proper woman, one who could give a god of the dead like himself a reason for living.

Xochipilli couldn't take his eyes off of the girl. Surprisingly, she looked native American, with dark hair and eyes and skin. She wore a brightly colored, sleeveless blouse, and a similarly brilliant long skirt, as was the custom of his own ancient, lost people. She would be easy to strike up a conversation with, he thought. After all, his own sister was a goddess of sexual pleasure, and Literotica was a goddess of erotica, of writing about sexual pleasure.

The African god Pemba looked around to see if his mother was watching. He didn't want to make her jealous. But the girl, Literotica, was enchanting. She was a model for his latest sexual preference, which always varied over time. The girl was raven haired and blue eyed, with creamy white skin. He wondered idly if she herself would enjoy an interracial coupling. If he could get his mother to find another partner for the evening, he was sure that he could give the girl a wonderful night, something to write about.

Izanagi, the Japanese god of death, admired the girl from across the room. She was partly caucasian, but with strongly asian features. It was a very exotic look, he thought.

"I wonder if she'd enjoy a threesome," he said to his sister, Izanami. He knew it was the only way that Izanami would allow him to sample the new goddess's charms.

"I think they're silicon," his sister said with an audible scowl.

"Excuse me?"

"Her breasts. I think they're store bought. Silicon."

"Silicone, you mean," he said, then winced, knowing that correcting your sister was a, well, a god given right, but correcting your wife was always a mistake.

"Whatever," she said, grabbing his arm. "Come on, I want to talk to Fu Xi and his sister Numa. I want to know what it's like to have sex that many times in a row."

He looked wistfully back at Literotica as he was pulled away. Other gods were already making their way over to her. He was going to miss any chance he had with the enticing newcomer.

* * *

Literotica finally found a moment of peace by finishing a cup of wine, claiming a small bladder as her personal major weakness, and hurrying off to the bathroom. A number of the Greek gods made comments about golden showers, but she wasn't really in the mood for that particular kink this evening.

Once relieved, and after freshening up, on her way back out to the party the young Norse god and goddess, Freyr and Freyja, were waiting for her. The woman clung to her brother like a life preserver in a storm tossed sea, and quite frankly, Literotica felt pretty much the same. The people, or rather, gods at this party tended to come on strong. She'd never seen so many Type A personalities in one room at one time.

"Pardon me," the goddess said in thick a Norwegian accent.

Literotica turned to face her. She was a very beautiful young woman, with blond hair knotted into long braids, and piercingly bright blue eyes, all crowning a very curvaceous and well toned figure. She must be another goddess of love, Literotica thought. There were more than enough of those at the party. The Norse had to have one, too.

Her brother had the same striking blue eyes and long, blond hair, but it was unkempt, almost windblown, wavy and framing his head and shoulders like a lion's mane. He had a nice bod, too. Literotica couldn't resist a quick peek down. She'd already noticed this hunk and had asked about him earlier. He was the Norse god of agriculture and weather, but he was also their phallic fertility god. Literotica imagined quite a nice and fertile phallus tucked under that robe.

When Literotica pulled her eyes back up from his waist, Freyja possessively pulled her brother closer. She started to say something, then hesitated. She looked at her brother with pleading eyes.

"My sister was hoping to talk to you," he said for her. "They say you're a goddess of erotic literature. Does that include poetry?"

"Yes, of course..."

"Oooh, I love erotica poetry," Freyja said, coming to life. "Is it truly erotic? I mean, it's not all flowery and obtusely suggestive, is it? Is it... exciting to read?"

"Well, there are all kinds, but yes, I'm sure you could find something that would suit you. I have over eighteen thousand poems online, with more submitted every day".

"Wow! Eighteen thousand? Hojotoho! Really? Heiaha!"

With that she took Literotica's arm, although carefully keeping the other interlocked with her brother's, and dragged them both over to a quiet corner where they could talk.

"So," Literotica asked conversationally. "Most of the gods here are married. Are you?"

"Not I," Freyja said. "My brother is married to the giantess Gerd, but she couldn't make it tonight."

"Oh," Literotica said. "Most of them are married to each other. I naturally thought you two..."

"Heiaha, no," she said in horror. "We're brother and sister. Such an impropriety would never do."

Even as she said it, she held her brother more tightly. Yeah, right, Literotica thought.

"Oh, that's too bad. I have quite a number of erotica poems on the subject of sibling incest. There's a lot of sad poetry in the longing for a forbidden and either secret or unrequited incestuous love."

Freyja's eyes softened immediately, then glazed over, pooling with a look of innocent, foggy lust.

"Really? Well, it wouldn't hurt to discuss them. Are they intricate? Are there any proper ballads? Do women write about their fantasies? I mean, in detail? A lot of detail?"

And so the conversation continued.

* * *

Literotica could feel the hand of Isis very gently, very subtly, but very sexually caressing the inside of her forearm. It was nothing, really, just an incessant, gentle, tickling touch. On her other side, Nephthys kept twirling and playing with Literotica's hair, managing every once in a while to just barely brush her earlobe or the skin of her neck.

She'd been flanked and trapped on the couch by the beautiful twin sisters for quite some time. Their brothers, Osiris and Set, had apparently made peace long enough to go gang up on Porno. They, and a number of the other male gods, were hunched over a computer, as her brother demonstrated to them exactly what he was a god of.

That left the attention of these two women entirely on her.

"Tell us your lineage, dear," Isis said in a soft, distracted voice.

"Well, let me see," Literotica hurried to answer. She mentally slapped herself when her voice came out squeaky and nervous, like a shy girl. Too many people wrote that character into their stories. As a result it came of her out too easily when she was flustered. Not very much could fluster Literotica, but the incessant and clearly sexual attentions of these two exotic, ancient Egyptian twin goddesses was doing it.

"First, um, there came a time when Reason and Enlightenment sort of grew in popularity. People believed in them for a few centuries, and they became pretty powerful. They were twins, and they coupled to give birth to the brothers Science and Mathematics, and their sister Industry. The three of them were very big in the eighteenth century. People really believed in them, more than anything else."

Nephthys pushed Literotica's hair aside, exposing her ear. She leaned in close, breathing into it as she spoke while almost but not quite kissing her ear.

"Go on, sweetheart. Don't be shy," she said, as she placed a warm hand on Literotica's bare thigh.

"Well, Science and Mathematics and Industry all had, well, sort of a threesome, actually a lot of threesomes, and they kept at it, until Industry gave birth to Technology. Technology's a little fucked up now, because he's got a mother and two fathers. It's not that he doesn't know who is father is. He literally has two. Don't ask me how."

"Hmmm," Isis hummed in her ear, as one hand strayed up Literotica's forearm, just by chance brushing her knuckles across the edge of her breast. "Stranger things than that happen with gods."

Literotica took a deep, calming breath before continuing. When she did, her voice was still an excited octave higher than it had been.

"Technology got together with his mom, Industry, and had a bunch of kids; Electronics, Mechanics, and others, lots of them. Electronics and Mechanics got together and had Robotics. There's a whole line of them, then they all started mixing and matching and having kids. It got very complicated and confusing. Eventually Electronics had a fling with his great grandmother Enlightenment, which is a little far back in the family tree even for my tastes, mind you. But she gave birth to my dad, The Internet, and people have believed in him more than anything the world has ever seen."

Okay, now Nephthys was blatantly kissing her neck, and Isis was letting her hand wander pretty much where ever she wanted, which was primarily in ever more forceful circles around Literotica's stunningly hard right nipple. Literotica was having a hard time concentrating, and wondering if she should find a way out of this.

She didn't want Set, or Osiris, getting jealous and doing to her what they'd done to each other.

"Go on," both twins said huskily.

When Literotica tried to speak, an embarrassing squeak came out instead. She cleared her throat and continued.

"Well, Dad had thousands and thousands of children, with lots of different mothers. Porno and I arent' exactly sure who our own mothers are, actually."

"Your dad sounds a lot like Zeus," Isis said with a sexy chuckle. "Constantly looking for something young and new and fresh to excite him."

"Hmmm," Nephthys agreed, making a pleasing vibration against Literotica's ear. "Do you ever get together with your dear, loving father?"

"So," Literotica said nervously. "Umm, tell me about yourselves. I hear your brother Set cut your brother Osiris into fourteen pieces, and then went and lost the cock in the process..."

* * *

As the evening wore on, Literotica noticed more and more couples disappearing into empty rooms. The place was lined with a seemingly endless number of them. Olympus was quite the crib, it seemed. MTV would have a blast with this place.

She'd expected some swapping to go on, but the Greeks were the only ones to do so, although they still kept it all in the family. Zeus seemed a little put out that the only way he could get together with his daughter Persephone was to get her to make doe eyes at his wife Hera, who was also Persephone's aunt. And step mother.

For a while, it had looked like Literotica was going to have quite a good thing going with the twin sisters, but they started fighting about their brother's lost cock, and then their brothers came over after having gotten very aroused by looking at porno with Porno.

The next thing Literotica knew, the two couples had hustled off to find someplace more private, and Literotica was stuck cooling her toes alone, on the couch, all revved up with no place to go.

Everyone else had sauntered off, with no effort to hide their lust, with their brother or sister or mother or father. Everyone except for Freyr and Freyja, that was, and the other coy pair of twins, the Aztec god and goddess. They made quite a show of looking for a quiet room to have a short lie down, to sleep off the effects of the wine, as if anyone noticed or cared what they did. 

They're eyes said otherwise, though. No one was sleeping in their rooms.

The party had definitely thinned out. Literotica had been hoping to hook up with a god, maybe one of the Greeks that liked to turn into swans and things. The nonhuman category was quite popular, and she'd been hoping to try it. Or maybe one of the Egyptian gods, with a human body topped with a strange animal head.

The only thing she didn't want to try was cuckolding. The loving wives category got way too many trolls. She didn't need to see them wandering about the place.

But none of it was to be. It looked like if she was going to get laid tonight, it would have to be with her rambling, incoherent father, or her glassy eyed, always distracted brother. Oh, well, she thought, it was the most popular category she had.

It was getting hard to sit still. More and more erotic moans and screams were coming from down the myriad halls, to endlessly bounce from wall to wall.

* * *

"Oh, gods, yes," Tethys screamed to her brother Oceanus. "Fuck your sister hard."

"Oh, gods, yes," Nephthys screamed to her brother Set. "Fuck your sister deep."

"Oh, gods, yes," Freyja screamed to her brother Freyr. "Fuck your sister good, but don't let anyone hear."

"Oh, gods, yes," Demeter screamed to her son Dionysis. "Fuck mommy good, baby."

"Oh, gods, yes, yes, yes," Hera screamed, as well as she could manage, to her brothers Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, before Persephone silenced her with a passionate kiss.

"Oh, gods, yes..." another goddess said.

"Oh, gods, yes..." another god said.

"Oh, gods, yes..."

"Will someone please shove their cock in Echo's mouth," Zeus yelled from somewhere, "so she'll shut the fuck up."

"Shut the fuck up..."

"Shut the fuck up..."

"Shut the fuck up..."

* * *

"Daddy?"

The Internet turned toward the sweet, teasingly seductive voice. Literotica balanced on one foot, twisting and turning with her hands behind her back like a sweet little girl, even though her father knew she was nothing of the sort.

"Yes, Dear?"

Her clothing magically changed into a short, sheer, white nightie. Her hair was now tied in cute little pig tails. She even wore big, fluffy slippers with bunny ears and eyes and noses on the toes.

"I want to go explore some of the rooms, but I'm afraid in such a big, strange house. Would you come with me? To keep me safe?"

"Keep Me Safe," The Internet responded, "a program for children of troubled families, keepmesafe.com. Modern Prayers for Modern Times, how to ask for help from God in today's world, prayforme.com..."

"Never mind," Literotica said, now wearing thick, full length, flannel pajamas. She turned and walked away.

* * *

Literotica found her brother still at the computer.

"Wow. This was quite a party," she said.

"Hmm?" Porno asked, not taking his eyes off of the computer screen. Once he'd discovered that Olympus had a fiber optic broadband connection, he hadn't even noticed all of the ribald activity going on around him.

From down the hall, they heard a loud, excited whinny, accompanied by the deep, bass moo of a bull, followed by the long, pleasured wail of a woman that had found everything she wanted in a lover, or two, or more.

"Shit, boys! Oh, gods, that's good," Hera screamed. "You're all such good little boys for your sister, the fucking goddess of fucking love. You, too, Persephone, dear. Here, spread your legs for me..."

"Wanna get a room, Bro?" Literotica said, only half heartedly trying to sound innocently eager.

"Hmm?"

She waited a moment, sipping from a last cup of ambrosia, as he clicked the mouse, moving rapidly from picture to picture to picture.

Click. Click. Click.

"I said this was quite a party," she said, with a long, disappointed sigh, "and can you believe that out of all of them, I'm the only goddess that can't get laid? It would make quite a story."

@ @ @

— From the author —

Please remember to vote or leave a comment. If you vote, please realize that anything less than a five, even a four, is a bad vote. If you have a negative comment or question, please look at the bio on my page before posting.

I do love to get comments, and will always reply to sentient people. I also hate anonymous comments, and will delete any that are unkind.

If you really liked this story, please favorite me as an author. It helps me to get more readers, and gives me a reason to keep writing.

For information on my writing style, posting comments, voting, or my publication schedule, visit my bio by clicking on my pen name above.

— Rob 



Ambrosia



As Nedan Roth stepped into the thick Forest of Ambrosia, the sunlight crept through the canopies, dotting the ground with rays of light. The air was cool with the early chill of autumn, the Ambrosia trees changing from their native green to dark pink, before turning black through the winter and repeating the process come spring. Though it was a beautiful process, Nedan did not come for the pretty pictures. He came to take part in a tried ritual among his High Elf brethren.

Every High Elf in Nedan's native town of High Grandeur is expected to complete one grand accomplishment in their lifetime, unique to each to High Elf and bestowed upon them at birth by Nocturne, Goddess of Fate. Once they believe they've completed their task, they come to the Forest of Ambrosia to taste the forbidden fruit. If the fruit is sweet, the Goddess will grant true happiness to them in their lifetime. Should they not be ready, the fruit will be utterly tasteless, and because they were not ready to experience their Forbidden Fruit, said Elf will retch the fruit back to the ground, only for it to be replaced by another, and the process is repeated with the next.

Nedan had already been here twice; once when he had saved his younger sister Minette from wolves while she was pregnant, and again when he personally convinced the Humans of Prosperity and the Tree Elves of Twath to ally themselves with his High Elves against the evil Night Elves when his father was ill. Both times he was lauded as High Grandeur's hero. And both times he thought he would taste Ambrosia, only to taste tree bark and return it to the earth in seconds. But not this time. This time he had earned an achievement that made everyone proud; just yesterday, he replaced his father as Representative of High Grandeur, and would now be the emissary of his town for inter-species relationships.

He had no idea how fitting the title would be.

Buttoning up his wool shirt, Nedan stood under the nearest Ambrosia tree and looked up hopefully. His long brown hair was billowing behind him, until he was forced to restrain it in a ponytail. The pink fruit dotted with black spots seemed to be beckoning to him. He had to enjoy this moment alone. His family had been there at each tasting, only to watch him puke the forbidden fruit back to the earth. He knew 3rd time was the charm, but just to be safe, he came alone. 

He stood on the tips of his toes and reached up slowly to his prize. He would not repeat his first time, where he had dropped the Ambrosia on the ground and it shattered like stained glass, bright pink meat spilling out of its shell. It was immediately replaced, but still, their laughter rang in his heart for weeks. This time, he reached slowly and gently, gingerly twisting the stem and pulling the fruit away. It was soft and tender; a firm squeeze would crush the fruit. Closing his eyes, he bit into the forbidden fruit and swallowed.

And immediately retched it, along with his lunch, on the ground.

By the time he was done, he was on his knees and shuddering. He was still mentally in shock by the time his body calmed down. It was impossible. Being named High Grandeur Emissary was a prestigious honor. What else could he accomplish in life? What more could he want? The only thing he was missing was a lover. And that he could accomplish at any time.

He was knocked out of his thoughts by a raucous laughter coming from behind the trees. He turned his head and saw his friend Alton in tears, rolling on the ground in laughter. Confusion giving way to anger, he stood and stomped over to him. "Oh, Goddess," Alton said, trying to calm himself down. "That's what, three times now Nocturne has showed you the finger between the ring and index?"

Nedan didn't answer, just turned and marched out of the forest. "Wait up! It was a joke!" Alton caught up just as Nedan reached the gate. "Come on, you gotta admit, it's kind of sad."

"Very. That's three separate times now I lost my lunch to the damn thing." Nedan said angrily. 

"You've got the highest honor a High Elf here can have. What else could there be?"

Clouds loomed over High Grandeur, eerily matching Nedan's mood. The town was batting down their hatches, preparing for the worst; Doors were bolted, windows shaded and locked, and house plants brought inside. "Look on the bright side, this just means there's something even bigger for you to expect." Alton said cheerfully. 

"If I'm lucky." Nedan knew all too well that High Elves who died without experiencing Ambrosia were denied their eternal happiness. He also knew Alton wouldn't have to worry about it; His accomplishment was the birth of his daughter Laya. Not particularly enthralling, but a fine one nonetheless.

Nedan bade farewell to Alton at the Castle of Grandeur, stepping inside just as the storm began to pick up. He sighed and walked to the dining room. He knew he would have to bare with his father's disappointing stare when he told him of the day's event, but no one said he had to do it sober-

Inside the dining room was his father, along with three others he didn't immediately recognize. Then it came to him: Today he was supposed to escort the Mayor of Prosperity around High Grandeur. He planned on going to the Forest of Ambrosia and coming back quickly, but was distracted by Alton. However, it wasn't the Mayor or his large bodyguard that caught Nedan's attention.

It was the small woman standing next to him that commanded his eyes. Under her black hooded cloak, he saw red hair, a fire concealed in darkness. She wore a short sleeveless shirt and tight pants, also black. His eyes started on her face, and traveled down her to supple breasts, tracing the outline of where her nipple would be and moving down further.

It wasn't just the fact that she was a beautiful 

human that was turning him on. She was not fat, but much fuller than the thin Elves he usually frequented, the girl's waist the thinnest thing about her. He pictured himself above her, tongue dancing on her nipples while his fingers prodded her soaking lips...

He shook the thought away and strode over to introduce himself. He had known from birth that relationships with a human were forbidden, and if he was caught, his family would disown him and he would be on his own for life. He hadn't even known the woman's name, and he was already picturing her naked body and what would happen if he were caught.

If he hadn't been so deep in his thoughts, he would have seen her analyzing him too.

"Mayor Gnash, my apologies for being so late." Nedan said, extending his hand. Gnash smiled and shook, giving him a hearty handshake. "No apologies necessary, Nedan. Just talking with your father about some things." Nedan didn't have to look to feel the heat from his father's glare. "Have you met my bodyguards?" Gnash motioned to the people behind him. "Tirran is from Prosperity, but Scout-"--He looked at the girl- "was raised by Tree Elves."

Nedan raised his hand and she shook it softly. He looked into her eyes and saw her gazing at him curiously. He pulled away and looked at Mayor Gnash. "My apologies about the bad timing of the rain. If you like, after dinner, we can still go out. High Grandeur is beautiful in the evening."

"No need, Nedan. Early morning is just as well, but about that dinner..."

Throughout dinner, while feigning political talk with Mayor Gnash, Nedan eyes would occasionally fall on Scout. She ate her food slowly, almost never looking up. When it seemed she would add something to the conversation, either Tirran or Gnash would give her a look that would silence her, and her eyes would fall back to her food. After dinner, Nedan sent his father to bed while he walked Gnash and his party through the back wing. Emissary Nedan did this to show them the extensive art collection, but Lusting Nedan did this because he knew he would reach Gnash's guestroom first, then show Tirran and Scout their bedrooms, instead of the reverse.

"High Elves have a very unique sense of culinary skill," Gnash mused outside his room. "You just must teach some of your recipes." Nedan bowed and promised, "I'll get right on it.", before Gnash closed the door. He then escorted Tirran to his room. He was creepily silent, made no attempt to communicate, and shut the door in Nedan's face. Not that Nedan cared. 

Finally, he reached Scout's room. "My apologies for Tirran." Scout finally spoke, her voice velvety soft. "I wish he was more sociable."

"It's no problem," Nedan smiled. "I've not unlike most politicians I've come across." To his surprise, Scout smiled back. "This is true." She chuckled.

Before Scout closed the door, Nedan forced himself to come out. "Scout," He said, louder than he intended. She stopped just before the door closed and peeked her head outside the doorway. "I was kind of disappointed when Mayor Gnash didn't take me up on my offer to see High Grandeur after dark. Our architecture is beautiful in the moonlight." He paused and continued, "I plan on going out anyway. If you would like to join me, I wouldn't mind."

For a second, Scout looked apprehensive, and Nedan feared that she would decline. Then she smiled radiantly and pulled the door open. "Lead The way."

*         *         *

"Your city is beautiful," Scout commented, gazing at the vast High Elf structures. The various buildings were tall and ornate, and even simple homes for average Elves boasted beautiful stained glass windows. And in the twinkling moonlight, the reflective buildings shined luminously, creating a dawn within the darkness.

"Thank you," Nedan smiled, something he had been doing since they began walking the empty streets. "It is quite lovely. Of course, once you lived here long enough, it begins to lose a little of its luster." 

She looked at him curiously. "Really?" She had been staring at the various buildings with child-like awe since they began. "I doubt I could ever get used to this. Twath was little more than hovels in the tree's. It can't even compare to all this."

Nedan suddenly was struck with inspiration. "I think I know something that can top all of this."

"I doubt it."

"Don't believe me?" He grasped her hand cautiously, and she surprised him by gripping it tightly. "Let me show you." Hand in hand, they walked through the dazzling the townscape. It was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to Lake Serendipity.

They arrived at the perfect time. Every night at a certain time, the moon would reach its zenith overhead, and bathe the lake in glorious moonlight, a blanket covering the crystal clear waters. When Scout saw the lake, her jaw actually dropped. "Oh my Goddess," she murmured gazing over the lake. "This is—I don't even know how to describe it. This is amazing, Nedan." 

"Isn't it? This is the grandest piece to our city. It's used for everything from leisurely vacations to romantic getaways."

"It certainly is romantic."

At the mention of the word 'Romantic', their eyes locked and broke away like coy teenagers. But then they locked again, and they didn't look away. Nedan pulled her hood away, and her fire red hair spilled down her shoulders and back. The lust Nedan had been bottling up had begun to leak out. He released her hand, and took her waist in his fingers. Her eyes and body were glowing, the moon highlighting her features. She was staring at him intently, not resisting whatsoever. He finally closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers, her lips warming his body and hardening his cock.

Scout wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her tongue inside his mouth. Nedan was taken aback but quickly returned, their tongues dancing under the moon. She broke the kiss and pulled back. Nedan's dick had gone from hard to throbbing. He wanted, no, needed so much more, forbidden or not. Scout's arms crossed at her waist, as if she was going to remove her shirt, but before she did, she asked Nedan, "I don't care that you're an Elf. If you care that I'm a human, I'll stop now."

Nedan shook his head. "No, I want you either way."

"Good." She removed her cloak and tossed it onto the ground, then pulled away her shirt, C-cup breasts nearly spilling out of her black lace bra. "Because I really need some of you inside me," She pulled him close, and he nearly came when he felt her breasts against his chests. She smiled. "Either way."

They kissed again, but this time they kissed aggressively, Nedan undoing her bra, and Scout feeling his erection through his pants. As Scout pushed him towards the ground, Nedan threw her bra with her cloak and placed his mouth on her areola, his tongue sucking on Scout's nipple. She moaned as her back arched against the wet grass, nipples hardening and pussy dripping. Nedan lapped at her nipples while undoing her belt buckle, pulling her pants and underwear to her knees. 

The ground was cold against her bare cheeks, but Scout didn't notice as Nedan began to pump two of his slender Elven fingers inside her soaking cunt. "Harder," She was panting now, each thrust taking away her breath. "Harder! Finger fuck me harder!" Scout was louder now, but Nedan didn't care, just withdrew his fingers to rub her clit in tight circles. Scout's legs clamped around his wrist, thrusting her clit into his dexterous fingers.

She was positively leaking now, pressure building deep inside her cunt. Nedan sensed her impending orgasm and rubbed her faster, then pressed his mouth to the hollow of her neck. "Oh, Oh Goddess, I'm gonna come," She tightened around his wrist. "Oh Goddess, Oh Goddess, Oh—"She exploded under Nedan, squirting girl-cream all over the ground. Her orgasm shocked her up and down her body, tingling electricity going the length of her spine.

When she was done, she released his wrist. He began to pull away, but she grabbed him and 

whispered, "No, I want everything." Scout pulled him over body, undoing his pants. Nedan had been so hard it hurt, and it was a relief when his cock finally broke free. He raised himself over her, and placed his cock just outside her sensitive cunt. 

"Wait," She whispered. "My name. It's not Scout. It's Ginny." Before Nedan could respond she put a finger to his lips. "But I prefer Scout." 

Without warning, he plunged deep.

Nedan pushed in to the hilt each time, Scout's body rocking with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tossed her head back. He pressed his lips to hers for a moment, and then kissed down to her shoulder. "Ah, ah, ah," Scout panted, grabbing her breasts and twisting her nipples. 

Now it was Nedan who was breathing hard, grunting pleasure from deep within his throat. "Ah shit, I'm gonna, I'm gonna come-"He thrust himself all the way and shot his seed deep inside her. His hot spunk set Scout off again, and she screamed as she came a second time, both of them caught in a tsunami of ecstasy.

When they both calmed down, Nedan lay next to Scout and pulled her close, and she pressed her head against chest. "I have to leave tomorrow." She whispered quietly. 

"I don't think I want you to go."

"I can't stay here. You and I both know how your race fees about inter species relationships." The thought had left Nedan, but was now returning at an alarming rate, as his actions began to set in. He knew what he had done, but, for some strange reason, he did not care. Just pulled her closer instead.

"Promise me something, Nedan?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me when you'll find me." She pulled herself up and looked at him in the eyes. "I don't know how I feel, but I want you to come see me at Prosperity. I'll treat you just as well as you did me here." Her blues eyes blazed with ferocity. "There's a pub called Resurgence. I'll be there every night, just come when you can.

Nedan didn't even hesitate. "I promise."

Unfortunately, he didn't see the eyes watching from the trees.

*           *              *

The next day, after a tour of the city, Scout returned to Prosperity with Tirran and Mayor Gnash. If they knew anything they didn't show it. Nedan settled with shaking her hand, but even that simple gesture brought him back to last night. They strode away back to Prosperity, and for the rest of the day he pondered how he could come see her at Resurgence quietly.

The opportunity was forced upon him late that night. He was sleeping when his own guards jerked him out of his bed. "What in the name of- What is this?!" They didn't answer, but simply forced him to the town square. He arrived to the entire High Elf population of High Grandeur watching him with scorn.

And at the head of the crowd, was his father and Alton.

When he met them at the middle, he asked them very plainly, "What the hell is going on?" They both glared at him and his father responded, "You are on trial for the corruption of our species."

Instant panic surged through Nedan. "On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that you were caught copulating with the human girl from Mayor Gnash's party last night."

Panic became cold far, freezing Nedan in place. "Do you have any proof?"

Now Alton stepped forward. "I took a walk last night. I saw you and the human at the lake. You committed adultery in the worst way, and now you will pay for your sins!"

"I can't believe you, Alton! We've been allies and friends since we were children and you will toss me to the wolves like this?"

Alton was unshaken. "You committed the crime, and now you will pay for them."

Nedan's father turned to the crowd. "Nedan has been charged with adultery and treason. He is hereby pronounced guilty and now is exiled from ever returning to High Grandeur." The crowd broke into raucous cheers while Nedan's heart sank. His father and best friend, his entire world, had turned against him in an instant. "Where will I go?"

"With the one whom you took in your arms last night. Wherever you go, never return!" Alton ordered. The crowd applauded.

Nedan returned to his room and began to pack his things. His only hope now was Scout. He took her cloak which she left him and held it close before tossing it on. He had given up his life for her, and now he had to hope she would do the same for him. If she didn't-

No, there was no even considering that option. He tossed his knapsack over his shoulder and pulled her hood over his head. When he entered the city for the last time, there was no missing the look of scorn that the townspeople plastered upon him. He ignored it and kept walking. After everything he had done for them, they turned their back on him in an instant. 

When he left the outskirts of town, the calmness of the night enveloped him. It was like this when he had sex with Scout only a night ago. The moon his only friend and guide. He closed his eyes and followed the path that would lead to Prosperity, and where Scout would —hopefully– be waiting.

*          *          *

Prosperity was nowhere near Nedan's expectations.

The city was unbelievably dirty, and in a serious state of disrepair. The streets were littered with beggars and children, each with a weaker sense of hope than the last. Goddess, what had Gnash been doing to this city? Where were the guards? Soon he saw a large mansion hidden behind a gate, and soon realized that 'Mayor' Gnash simply hid away. He turned in disgust and made his way to Resurgence.

Resurgence was no cleaner than the rest of the city, but twice as dangerous. The entire room was full of cutthroats and mercenaries downing mug after mug of Ale. Worse, the entire room seemed to turn to him. He settled into a table and scanned for Scout. 

It had been no more than five seconds when he felt a rough hand clamp on his shoulder. "New here, friend?" The voice was slurred and slow. Nedan did not respond but shook his head. "You sure?" The man wobbled on his legs. "Because I sure as hell never seen you before." Before Nedan could do anything about it, he felt his hood pulled off his head.




Ambrosia



"Ah, an Elf." The drunkard smiled, and there was no comfort in his voice. "Been a while since we had one of those, eh, Seddy?" A man from the bar had turned around and called out. "Got that right, Garry." Seddy reached out to grab Nedan's wrist. "Damn, you things are thin. Let's see how easily you bend."

Before he could grab it and before Nedan could move, an arrow pierced Seddy's hand and came out the other side. He screamed and fell to the floor. Garry reached for his dagger, but stopped cold when he saw who fired the arrow. In the doorway stood Scout, red hair blazing as she pointed a nocked arrow directly at Garry's heart.

"Try me and it is you who will be shot next." She ordered. Garry sat the dagger back on the counter. "Jeez, Scout. Me and Seddy were just kidding around. You didn't have to-"

"Don't bullshit me. If I hadn't come here, he would have been just another body on the streets." Her voice was tinged with venom. Nedan stood and slowly walked to the door. Scout didn't lower the bow until they were both outside. As soon as they walked away and the door to the pub closed, Scout dropped her bow and pressed her lips to his. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her tongue penetrated his mouth, painting it with her saliva. When she broke the kiss, she whispered "Goddess, I missed you."

Down the dark streets of Prosperity, She told Nedan about what had happened since she returned. "Apparently Tirran woke up and found my room empty, he told Gnash. As soon as we arrived, Gnash threw me out on my ass." She smiled. "Though the landing was comfortable."

"I suffered fairly worse." Nedan told her about Alton's betrayal and his exile.

"They exiled you? Goddess, I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

Nedan silenced her by taking her hand. "Don't apologize. The way they turned on me so fast, all I know is to pick my friends better."

"Still-"

"It's fine."

Prosperity lacked the glow of High Grandeur, but Nedan didn't mind as she told him about her childhood. "The Tree Elves of Twath were really the only family I ever had. They taught me how to hunt and use a bow. But I left to find myself." Her voice trailed off as she tugged at her sweater. "Unfortunately, I found Gnash. But I didn't trust him, so I bought a house as a backup."

Eventually, she stopped and pulled Nedan into an alleyway. "Scout?" She put her finger on his lips. "You knew this was coming." She pressed her lips to his ear and licked just behind his lobe. Nedan moaned as he felt the blood rushing to his cock. "My house is not too far from here, but I wanna thank you for coming before we get there. Her lips fell from his ears to his lips, then his shoulder, and finally fell to her knees. 

Unbuckling his pants in record time, she pulled out his cock and licked along the shaft. Nedan grabbed a fistful of her hair as she traced a line up and down his cock. When Nedan felt like he couldn't take it anymore, she opened her mouth and took his whole dick inside her. Nedan fought hard to keep from coming in her mouth immediately as she bobbed back and forth on his manhood, her tongue swirling as she sucked him off.

Nedan tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting her take full control. She pulled off only to take one of his balls in her mouth, but still stroking him with her hand. When she put him back inside her mouth, Nedan felt pressure building deep inside him, like he had many moons ago. Scout felt him stirring and deep throated him completely. Her mouth wrapped around the entire length of his cock sent him over the edge, and he gasped as several hot, sticky ropes shot down her throat. The ropes came fast, but she swallowed them dutifully.

Once Nedan calmed down, she stood up and asked him simply, "My house this time?"

"Yes. Now."

Scout's house was no more than a block away, and she had barely any time to close and lock the door before Nedan was upon her. He pulled her close and kissed her ferociously, squeezing her large breast under her sweater. "Bedroom," she murmured. He relented as she yanked him upstairs. 

Scout's bedroom was dark, but she lit a candle while Nedan got comfortable on her queen-sized bed, lying on his back. She knew he was waiting for her to take him, so she moved slow and provocatively, a sensual swing in her hips just before he mounted his thighs. As she peeled away her sweater and unclasped her bra, Nedan stared at the contours of her body. Scout was much more beautifully thick than the usually thin and unattractive High Elves he once knew. Her size felt real and natural, and her shape was full-hourglass.

"Close your eyes for me, okay?" When he looked apprehensive, she added, "You'll know when to open your eyes." Nedan closed his eyes and waited. He heard her undo her pants and toss them away, then felt her undo his pants and pull out his cock again, jacking it slowly. He expected her to either lower herself slowly or use his mouth, so he nearly screamed when she impaled herself on his hard dick.

"Ah, shit!" They yelled in unison as Scout slammed herself into his cock over and over again. Eyes now wide open, he grabbed each of her cheeks and held on for dear life, losing his breath each time she slammed down. Her soaking cunt dripping down his dick, she slammed herself down hard one last time and began grinding herself around his hilt, hip circles forcing him against every inch of her walls. Nedan was lost in the throes of pleasure, raising his hands and taking a breast in each, pulling and tugging at each nipple. 

Soon Scout felt a heat rising from deep inside her, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as her orgasm overtook her, cream spilling out of her cunt and down Nedan's cock. As he felt her rapidly opening and closing over his dick, Nedan also flew over the edge and shot his cum deep inside her, ecstasy rising and falling between them like the sun.

When they both finished, Scout passed out in exasperation, still inside him. Nedan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. In the flickering candlelight, she looked enchanting, even though dead tired, perspiration dotting her body. He closed his eyes and let the candle burn.

*           *             *

It seemed like just yesterday when they came together in Ginny's-- it took a while, but she finally let him call her Ginny instead of Scout—when in reality it had been months ago. Soon after, they decide to Emigrate back to Ginny's home village of Twath, high in the trees, where the Tree Elves welcomed her back with open arms. They were initially wary of Nedan, but hostility turned to friendship as both High and Tree Elf came together. 

Now Nedan was outside their house, smaller than Ginny's previous, but she didn't mind. Waiting on the arrival of a product he asked for. Not exactly asked, per se, more so paid to be stolen. He was against theft and crime, but this had been eating at him since he left High Grandeur. He exhaled slowly when he finally saw the courier making his way to him. Under his arms was a small box, barely big enough for a piece of fruit. He held it out to Nedan, nodded and turned away once he took it.

Nedan slowly opened the box, wary of its 

contents. When he saw the inside was still in one piece, he let out another slow breath. "What are you looking at, Babe?" Ginny asked, carrying a mug of hot cider. He held up the contents and she drew back. He held Ambrosia, freshly plucked from its tree. "How did you-"

"I bought it." He had told her the origins of Ambrosia, including his failed attempts at tasting the perfect fruit. She sat down next to him on the bench outside their house. 

"Do you think this is the one?" Ginny asked curiously. 

"If it isn't, then I never wanna see the damn thing again. You—"– He put his hand on her stomach, feeling the warmth of life—"and her are probably the greatest achievements I will ever have, and if this fruit doesn't recognize that, than screw it."

Ginny smiled. "Than just in case..." She took the fruit and broke it in half, handing a piece back to Nedan. "...We'll do it together."

Wrapping their arms around each other, Ginny and Nedan both bit into the forbidden fruit.



Ambrosia and Steel



What sounded like the squawk of a sea gull awakened him. He didn't realize he had dozed. He had dreamed of standing in the bow of an open boat, its prow gently dipping in the waves as he listened to the moans of billowy waves frothing against a sultry vanilla beach. Keen-eyed seabirds glided and swooped overhead.

Harry's eyes opened and met Daphne's shining and lucid, staring at him reflected in the mirror facing him. Standing in the doorway, she was looking down at him from somewhere to his left. The strikingly seductive mounds and slopes of her statuesque form were etched against a hazy glow from a curtained window. Her long, tapered fingers lounged lazily near in her dimpled navel. As she stood with legs apart, the sight of her lush carpet of scantily veiled pubic hairs pulled his attention away from the blazing blush of shimmering scarlet bulb, glowing on her flushed face. 

Daphne measured five feet four inches in her bare feet. Harry stood at five feet nine. Her gaze shifted to the band of his wrinkled gray under shorts, where she had left them, lowered well below his loins, when she slipped away from their basement retreat. She stared where his shriveled, waxy, semen-stained penis hung limply. Quite a contrast, she thought, to the stout pole from which she had earlier extracted such exquisite pleasure. . 

A moment of modesty urged Harry to shield his nakedness, and find some cover against the sharp chill of his confinement. He was stopped in that attempt by the tug of restraints at his wrists. They were securely tethered to a steel beam of the dusky basement ceiling. A thrill made him shiver as he recalled the ardor with which she had drained the last modicum of molten lava from his gorged volcanic spout. Her exquisite ministrations had driven him to shameless roars and unavoidable tears. 

Now, he tried to shift his feet, but cuffs at his ankles prevented that. Memory returned of his utter bondage. He was helplessly harnessed. And exposed. She looked down at him, and he looked at her through the mirror as awareness of his total dependence on her overwhelmed him. 

Twin bright gleams darting from Daphne's iridescent eyes lazered the cue of her increasing arousal. Her stare took his measure in the mirror. She smiled mysteriously, crossed her hands at her waist to take firm hold of the hem of the pink gauzy magenta shift she had thrown on. She slowly lifted and casually discarded it, kicking the crumpled bundle away from her bare feet. She stood shimmering in her nakedness, in the soft glowing red light. Her gorgeous pubic hairs sent throbs of lust through him.

Like a vamp, still standing in the doorway and never shifting her look from his; she again spread her hirsute thighs. 

With long, strong, alabaster hands, she cupped gorgeous marble breasts, and used her index fingers and thumbs to squeeze her plump, plum- colored nipples. Straining movements of her head and neck brought each in turn to her lips for kitten-like licks. He drank in the exhibit, unable to do anything but watch, and feel his liberated dong spring to an uninhibited perpendicular. With an adept coyness, she released her breasts and snaked her hands downward from her gorged nipples to her bulging, tufted mound, swelling at the juncture of her smooth sculptured thighs.

Daphne swiveled her hips with each step of her descent down the stairs, then did a prize-winning promenade of several steps into the room. Her perfume, reminiscent of fresh flowers, rode airwaves to his nostrils to further tantalize his senses with her elegance. 

Much closer now, and still holding his gaze, she again planted her feet apart, and sent two long slender fingers of her left hand to spread her pussy lips apart until her rosy pink inner self was clearly displayed. She slipped the long middle finger of her right hand deep into her carpeted love tunnel and began to slide the shiny wet digit in slow strokes along the entire length of her clitoral shaft. Her head was thrown back with eyes partly closed while her lips tensed across her bared pearly white teeth. She plunged deeper, her breath released in ragged shards of controlled exhalation. She arched her back, stood on tiptoes, shoved her pelvis far forward, and gargled sounds of intense excitement. Then she stopped the show, reined in her breathing, and glided to him. She stood on a hassock and placed her wet slippery finger between his lips. He licked the finger and groaned. She stepped down from the hassock and padded to a table against the far wall before him. 

She picked up a large, brown vibrator, hefted it, as if gauging its size and weight against her knowledge of his admired and beloved tool, then switched it on to a low whining speed. She turned so he could fully see her action, and plunged the stout shaft deep in her hairy crevice. For heart stopping moments, he watched as she wantonly rode the dildo. Daphne writhed and whimpered then withdrew the toy from her cunt with an abruptness that made her body shudder. A long thin stream of crystal clear fluid trailed the vibrator's exit. She hoisted the wet, slippery object to her mouth and licked it like an ice cream cone. She licked it with delight. Then, with a wistful look, she withdrew the gadget and sank its full length into a glass of ambrosia resting on the table. She pulled out the instrument and brought it to Harry.

"You loved what I served you earlier," she said, "you'll love this more." She pushed the dripping pleasure toy between his lips. Harry took it in and sucked the cock-like instrument. Its stimulant-coated goodness sharpened his arousal and his sense of the surreal. He would never knowingly suck a cock.

In, and out, she slowly worked the artificial organ, now thrusting in as deep as possible; now withdrawing to tease the tip of his longing lips. She made several trips to the tumbler and served him the potent liquor. Her chest heaved as her breath came in shallow throbs while her free hand wandered over him in tantalizing caresses. She tweaked his nipples and drew long light scratch lines across his chest and belly. She was clearly as excited in stimulating him as he was in enjoying her gifts. He was glad that the basement was sound proofed, and the house separated by wide acreage from the nearest neighbors. Their earlier fits of throaty groans, and yells would certainly have brought curious or concerned persons questing for the source of such lurid sounds. 

Daphne laid the sweetly torturing toy aside. Always spontaneous and creative, she stood on the hassock and faced him at eye level. Harry wondered what would be the next act to be conjured by her elfish mind. Her trembling legs were apart, hairy bush awash with glistening, dripping juices, and brushing leathery strokes against his thighs. Mercifully, she took his rigid spigot in hand near the bulbous head and stroked it slowly up and down the length of her clitoral shaft. She sighed, hiccuped and writhed, resting her head against his chest. Their merged juices formed a single flood flowing down her hands and his legs. The intensity of her demanding strokes grew. Harry wondered how long she could hold out before exploding. Or to how much more of her teasing torture would he be treated before being allowed release.

He sagged in resignation to his harness. His knees trembled with every effort to remain upright. How long had he been suspended? Time seemed so irrelevant now. Daphne was having fun. He was expected to enjoy her excursions, in retaliation for the arduous bondage antics she had endured from him. For her, it was wistful payback for her earlier agonizing thrills at his hand; and a demonstration of her own hoard of secretly held fetishes as well. 

"You never told me you were into bondage." She had said over dinner.

"You never asked." He chuckled impishly. Then he had confessed that he had never been into BDSM, but had read up on the subject after he promised to come prepared to pleasure her. The rest was the product of his own fertile imagination. Having acquired the accoutrements, it was only fair to ponder how to implement them as best he could.

"You could have fooled me, Buster," she miffed. You played the role of a real dominator to me. You had me convinced you were a master. But just you wait; I'll make you suffer for that. You'll earn every ounce of that prime rib I fixed you." She had said, smiling mysteriously. 

Now, he shifted his stare to look down at the place on the carpet where a crystal stream spewed from his pulsing, searing cock, to widen the spreading dark spot at their feet. Daphne's eyes dilated as they followed his gaze. Her rosy tongue flicked across her cherry-red lips and she ceased caressing him. 

With careful steps, she descended the stool and began to stroll around Harry. Her blazing body moved sinuously with feline caresses as she cruised around him. She used her warm smooth fleshy curves to fawn his body. With slow caresses, her hands trailed down his chest, back, and belly. She teased sensual fingernail scratches on his midriff and sides, and tormented him with delicious nibbles of his hardened muscles. 

Her next move was to snap her head forward, flinging her long, fragrant hair over his shoulder and guide the perfumed tresses as they streamed gently down his skin, ending with a smooth, teasing hair massage of his aching rod. She teased him skin from ears to elbow and from eyes to thighs with searing licks, nips, and sucks, pausing on occasion to swallow fluids secreted from his mouth and loins. She played with his cock; gripping it firmly and sliding experienced fingers gently, again and again along the length and tip of its leaky shaft. She bent to rub his hot rod against her cool cheeks and bury it between the cleft of her soft breasts. Then, without breaking contact, she traversed his entire body with hers, circling him, and employing her long hair like a delicate silk shawl to touch his every nerve and arouse him to peaks of exquisite longing. . 

Their joined body smells mixed with her special body oils and unguents to drive him to extremes of frenzied lust. His body ached. He groaned. Her torture became unbearable. He reasoned that in his practice of foreplay with her, he had held her in momentary suspense and lifted her to heights of excitement, but he always thoughtfully took pleasure in bringing her release. What Daphne was doing to him now was far more sadistic and in excess of anything he ever conjured to please her. She was unfair. It was she who had agreed to "within limits", when they discussed indulgence in BDSM. 

His desires for the seductive woman became a scorching fire. His need for release ballooned, boiled, bubbled, and sizzled. He was a seething cauldron, yearning to taste her, hold her, touch her, and fuck her. His eyes smarted with tears in frustrated need to drive his fevered piston deep into her oiled, frothy, cylinder, to assault her mouth with tongue and cock. He ached for her heavenly furnace to engulf his blazing fire, inexorably pushing him beyond the edge of her precipice; dragging him tumbling joyously into the blissful, yawning vortex of her foaming body. His bowels churned; his tongue drooled; his lips quivered; his arms and feet ached. He farted in delirium, losing partial control of his bowels. His stomach muscles convulsed violently.

Once again she expelled his molten rod from her teasing mouth and constricting throat, freeing the frustrated organ to flutter like a hooked trout floundering on some sultry riverbank. He wanted to beg for release, no matter how meager. 

"I'll pay you any price you name," his mind screamed, "I'll give you five hundred dollars just to make me cum. Just to bust my balls, please!" 

But he had promised to abide by her wishes when they discussed the plans. Now, his masculinity resisted his strong need to plead for mercy. When he yielded to her wiles, emitting alien groans of victimized resignation to her hellcat extremes of torture, he knew he could never treat her the way she now treated him. He had totally underestimated her veiled foreboding when she said, ""Be careful what you ask for, you may get more than you can possibly imagine." How could he have known he was dealing with a sorceress straight from the nether reaches of hell? I know I never would have treated her like this, he miffed. Ineffable sounds surfaced from far beyond his control, from the utter depths of his being. In delirium, his thoughts drifted to how it all started. 

It began in their conversation after dinner. They were cuddling and touching each other intimately when she asked 

"Have you ever fantasized about a woman pleasuring you?" 

Her question took him by surprise. He had always derived maximum pleasure by carefully anticipating and meeting the sexual needs of his partner. As a man, it was his duty, he thought, to find and excite his woman's every erogenous zone, bringing her joys in bed that exceed what she would normally expect. He prided himself on being sensitive to what women were said to desire. He could kiss, lick, massage, nibble; suck, deliver caresses to pelvic mound and tender inner and outer pussy lips. He enjoyed sucking toes and fingers, pulling hairs, and deep kissing partnered tongues. He was adept at using sex toys to thrill. He had been expert enough to always elicit satisfying moans, squeaks, and squawks of pleasure, and pleading for recess from sweet torment. He had the reputation for never letting up in his devices until he drained his love partner dry of every stored sexual desire. As for fucking, there had never ever been a complaint about his prowess at using his lovely tool. More than one appreciative woman had said, "You have a lovely cock," To which he had always mumbled a non-committal, "Thank You". He had felt very proud of Daphne's multi-orgasmic responses to his attention and endearments, and could not imagine leaving anything undone in demonstrating his skills as a caring, romantic, and sensitive lover. 

But now he seemed to have encountered a different sort of mate. He was being dealt tit for tat and being challenged to push the envelope of his capacity for enduring romantic pleasure to a level that he had never imagined. Just as she had said. 

"Truthfully, no," he had said, "I have always been more attuned to pleasing my partner. It never occurred to me that my partner would be pleased while taking the lead in giving pleasure to me. " 

"I see." she said, "so because other women have been passive, you think all are the same, right?" 

"Not really, it's just that my fantasies have always been limited to my showing that I am a manly man who can satisfy my lady. To pleasure you fully, has always been enough mutuality for me. You know I always satisfy myself thoroughly after you have been satisfied." 

"Harry, in the same way that you derive pleasure from pleasing your partner, can't you imagine that there are women who also delight in giving pleasure. There may even be those who are more gratified by giving than receiving." 

Her words caught him off guard. They seemed so contrary to the woman he came to know and love. Daphne had seemed a demure woman, of diminutive stature and winsome ways; with a smile that illuminates the darkest space, and thrills the heart of the gruffest curmudgeon. Her manner had always been reserved. Almost ladylike, until she became sexually aroused. He had no idea of the larger world revolving inside her. In their cyber intimacies, she was always the consummate and passionate responder. Although on occasion she would initiate play, or tease, she would await his initiative for further action. Now, her comments intrigued him. 

"So, what do you propose?" He had asked. 

"Let me be for you, what you have been for me. Let me take you to my secret 

place and have you at my disposal just as you had me earlier today." 

He was surprised by the powerful thrills that had surged through him. The simplicity with which she stated her case made her offer the more fantastic. It erased any reluctance on his part, and he felt he could trust her as she had trusted him. He shivered, feeling warm and nervously excited. 

"That's only fair," he had said.

So, they discussed details.

"And where is this secret place you mention?" 

"Downstairs. In my basement. It's intimate, and well suited to pleasuring."

"And you promise to subject me to no questionable act that could cause injury." 

"I pledge to do unto you, just as you did to me. To give you more excitement and pleasure than you have ever had in your life, within the bounds of affection, respect, and passionate demonstration of my love for you and appreciation for your body and sexual appetites."

He looked deeply into her eyes and she returned his gaze with open frankness.

"OK, I'll go with you. I admit to being very excited at the thought of being loved totally by a woman." 

"I visited her as a guest," he thought now, " and that's how I wind up in her basement. Manacled, shackled, and totally at her mercy, his body on fire in extreme desires for sexual release.

They had cleared the diner table and washed and put away the plates and utensils. 

Then she had excused herself.

"Let me get comfortable, OK, I'll be back in a few minutes." 

She had returned, dressed in lovely green and yellow floor length attire. Her hair was done up in a bun, secured by a long oriental bamboo needle, like a chopstick. She had greeted him with a chaste kiss on the cheek, handed him a chilled glass of champagne, then taken him by the hand and led me down the dim carpeted steps to the basement. She had stood close to him and seductively freed her hair by pulling out the needle. She knew how susceptible he was to her lavender perfume, and the magic of its fragrance spun a spell that weakened the last of his already wavering reserve. 

She shook herself out of her dress, revealing lovely, laced, pink silk panties with matching bra. A sultry animal magnetism merged with her perfume to charge the dim space between them. With the demure femininity that typified her, she sweetly lifted the glass of champagne from his hand and sipped, then lifted it to his lips. He sipped, and then she turned and placed the glass on a table against a wall. She returned and sat on a hassock placed in the middle of the room and looked up at me.

"OK, let's review the drill. No matter what you hear, feel, smell, or taste, you are to trust me completely. Is that what we agreed?"

"Yes, but why must you sound so mysterious?"

"Because you have been so used to being in control that you have never developed the ability to truly sense your surroundings from a passive standpoint. That's what I desire for you. 

"I see, so, what are you going to do to me?"

"I'll blindfold you, secure your hands and feet to restrict your movement, and

then, I'll have my way with you."

"Daphne, I have only one question. Have you done this with anyone else?"

"Harry, just as you admitted this evening that you had never administered dominance to any woman before me. I now admit that I have wanted to give you pleasure as a way of experiencing the fulfillment of sharing in all of its fullness. You have been my teacher. Let me show you the student you have created. You have given much. I want to repay in kind as much as I can. I will merely embellish, enhance, and transfer what you have given me. Is that a fair answer?" 

"I can live with that answer, for now." 

" Fine. Any more questions?"

"None. Do you have anything else to say?" 

"Just this. I pledge never to inflict any pain or perform any degrading or hurtful act with you. You must know that I love you devotedly, and respect you completely. Now, I'm ready, are you?" 

"Ready," Harry said. 

She stood and closed the space between them. Her exotic lavender perfume hypnotized him as with supple hands, and the casualness of a trained geisha girl, she removed and neatly folded every piece of his clothing, including shoes and socks, but excluding his boxer shorts. 




Ambrosia and Steel



She smiled. "Do I have your permission to secure your hands and feet?" 

He searched her eyes for any sign of guile or neurosis. All he saw was affection, and seething, passion-driven lust. 

"Yes, you may secure my hands and feet." He swallowed. A lump congealed in his throat. She produced the box he had brought her and removed several lengths of black velvet wrapped leather thongs. She kicked the ottoman close and stood on it facing him. Her naked body exuded feverish heat stretched to full length as on tiptoe she flung two lengths of the velvet ropes over a steel beam running across the ceiling, the length of the roof. Her perfumed pelvic rug exuded its fire against his face as she stretched and silently tugged and secured the tethers. She bound his wrists and tugged them tight to the steel above his head. Harry's back was strapped against a stout steel post sunk in the floor, supporting the steel beam. 

Daphne finished her task and stepped down. She squatted to spread apart and secure his feet with leather thongs to iron ring in the floor. Harry's cock throbbed as he admired the mound between her legs. The dark line of stray pubic hairs below the brief leg of her panties made his mouth water with longing. Redolence from her hot body further intoxicated me. As she stood up, her warm breasts deliberately brushed his cock sending electric spasms buzzing through his groin. His heart thumped in heightened excitement. What this lady was doing sent promises of untold ecstasies undulating like waves across the ocean of his mind. 

She pulled the ottoman back, stood on it, and reaching behind her, unsnapped a hook and stripped away her bra. Her orbed, pear sized breasts sprung free, bejeweled by large, hardened nipples. They pouted and taunted him. She strolled slowly around him, studying his muscular frame that had cradled her earlier, then brushed her breasts against his skin. Her warm nipples felt like torches but she never lingered long in one place. Despite the snow and wind outside, he felt warmed everywhere. She walked back to the stool, turned to face him and slowly wiggled out of her panties, revealing her lush bush of dark red hairs. She sat on the stool, reached on a small table for a tumbler, and began to sip from it while parting her legs, wide open at the knees. 

The drink smelled like neither wine nor champagne. The scent was of fresh fruits. Harry swallowed hard as he stared at her crimson pussy, etched with pink flesh at the center that tantalized him. He felt an incredible thirst.

"What's that you're drinking?" He asked.

"An ambrosia I concocted," she whispered huskily. "Want a taste?"

"Please!"

She brought the tumbler to his lips. Harry slurped thirstily. A glow coursed through him from the drink, but the arousal storming his senses was even more by the closeness of her sweltering body. 

Daphne took note of his stimulated condition. His huge cock bulged to its full length and bobbed up and down in animated movement. He dripped precum.

"You like?" she asked.

"Incredible!" he said, "What is it?" 

"A simple formula of one part peach nectar, one part gin, three parts cognac, with a swig of orange juice. No ice," she said. 

"Deadly." 

"Here, take another swallow; it will insulate you against the chill " She held the glass to his lips. Harry slurped again. He felt another rush rip through me. Daphne laid the glass aside and rose from the ottoman. She searched in her gift box and took out a perfumed blindfold. She stood on the stool and wrapped the blindfold securely around his face, making sure that his eyes were completely covered. A soft strings arrangement of "Ebb Tide" washed through the room. It soothed Harry into an unbelievable mood of seduced submissiveness.

Harry sensed her breath against his face. The commingled scent of lavender perfume at her neck, and peach nectar on her breath, ravaged his nose before he tasted her fruity tongue slipping between his eager lips. His legs sagged in ecstasy from the thrill of her heady kiss. Her tongue searched and found hidden sensory recesses in his mouth and palate. Daphne held the back of his head with her hands and drew him closer into her mouth as though her life depended upon taking from him every iota of energy and excitement that his assailed senses could afford. His knees buckled and he hung suspended only by the restraining manacles. Her body heaved as her breasts mauled Harry's chest. In wild abandon, she used her nipples to savage his. A passion poured out of Daphne, the depth of which he had never shown before. 

She tore her mouth away from his and retrieved the glass of ambrosia. She doused the length of his dripping cock in the drink. Turning the glass, she made sure his gorged and rounded balls at the base of the piston were also thoroughly immersed. She returned the tumbler to the table and came back to squat and lick the liquor from Harry's spigot like a hungry mastiff gnaws and laps at a juicy bone. With tenderness, she nursed his shaft as she trailed her long pink tongue up and down the rod, paying special attention to the gorged and aching globules. Soft musical strains seemed to loiter on the memorized lyrical line, "Then rolls out to sea, and the sea is very still once more."

Daphne opened her mouth wide to stuff in the shaft and balls; as if concerned she would lose a drop of the elixir. Out and in, she caressed, stroked, sucked, and lapped the cock and balls, while guttural noises pulsed deep in her chest. Harry was being driven to the verge of dementia. Then her movements changed. She closed her eyes and savored the entire rod as if it were a succulent banana. Extending her field of attention, she gently popped each ball in her mouth, delicately rolled each with her tongue and extracted every imagined droplet of her special ambrosia. 

As she worked, Harry gyrated his hips in slow movement to the music. He slowly drove the shaft, thrusting it as far as possible into the hot accommodating throat of his wanton friend and student - mentor. Tables were now completely turned as he, so accustomed to serving, now found himself helplessly being served. Daphne took hold of his tense ass and directed the deep drive into her welcoming mouth. He resigned to what seemed a gentle vacuum machine expertly applied to his cock. When she used a hand to squeeze along the shaft, pulling the meat back and forth, Harry rocked as if on gentle waves on a swelling sea. 

Harry's need to respond to her became unbearable. He hungered for her breasts. His overpowering desire was to lay her down and lick and suck her oozing cleavage to utter release. He wanted to greedily eat her honey-soaked muff until she creamed and screamed in pleasured climax. He wanted everything, but had to be satisfied with mere wanting. All he could do was yield to the sweet violence of the devilish she-cat of a woman. 

Daphne gurgled as she hugged, kissed, scratched his ass. Then spanked his robust butt using the same paddle he had used to drive her to the edges of sanity. Now, she bit his scrotum while sliding a long tapered finger gently between his anal cheeks, she fingered him while her other hand caressed his throbbing, drenched cock with ever insistent and stronger, but never hurried strokes. She poured warm and sweet-scenting oil in her slick hand, and employed it like a plunging sleeve around a racing piston. She let him drive, his hips bucking joyously, as she stroked his spigot forcefully until shooting, spattering cum splashed across her flushed face, hair, and heaving breasts. 

""OHHH Baby! OHH Shit! I'm cumming all over the place!" Harry howled, yelled, and screamed scatological obscenities. He sagged as his cock bucked. It spewed sudsy juices streaming down the length of the cock shaft; over the folds of her interlocked fists, and curdled across the front of his shorts, dripping down his thighs. The closing measure of the "Ebb Tide" strings crescendoed, "You are mine, you are really mine!" The hot, creamy juices congealed on the front of his boxers and down his legs. Daphne wilted in emotional exhaustion. She wiped her hands on his shorts, pulled it down, and left it there below Harry's exposed navel. She removed the blindfold.

Harry blinked to adjust his eyes to the pale glow of the red bulb. He saw her svelte, naked form; sitting, jism-splashed; her face dripping with rich, puddles of semen. He watched her heavy breathing gradually subside. She stood on the hassock, held his torso tightly to her warm breasts, and kissed him full on the mouth, darting her searching tongue between his parted lips. Then, with a long, almost sorrowful glance at his still rigid and dripping cock, had said, 

"I'll be right back," she whispered huskily. "Be a good boy, and rest, OK?" 

She did not wait for a reply but drifted from Harry's field of vision. She left him strung high, to the muted and haunting sounds of Isaac Hayes, "By the Time I Get to Phoenix". He had sagged, eyes closed, relishing incredible convulsions from the recent mind shattering experience. "I didn't know, she would really go", throbbed through his mind. 

Harry's shock-charged body continued to twitch. As the thrills eased, he took the time to wonder how such a demure and petite lover-friend could have held in abeyance such wild passions across the months they had been intimate friends. And how she could have reserved her emotions to tease him so mercilessly without achieving release for herself. After awhile, he gave up thinking as too much unprofitable work. His cock oozed itself to wormy flaccidity. It was then that, without realizing it, he dozed suspended between earth and sky, to dream of gulls, blue skies, sun-warmed rocking boats, moaning waves, and distant marble beaches. The gull-like squawk he thought he heard, could have been the sound of the door opening when Daphne returned. 

Her perfumed hand caressed his cheek and snapped him out of his drift into sweet reflections. The dungeon had become quite cold in the time since his last fevered arousal. Her face came close to his and reflected a complex mixture of expressions, flushed passion, deep affection, and maternal compassion. Her body was very warm.

"Now, would you have missed that if I had not invited you?"

He nodded in wordless assent.

"Want more now, or would you like to go to bed?"

"Bed." He whimpered.

She reached above his head to undo the tethers. In relief, he collapsed as she helped him to the floor and stepped down to undo the thongs around his ankles. She brought a warmed blanket, threw it around them both, and tucked him in on the carpet from feet to chin. After awhile, she uncovered one of his shoulders and gently massaged it with warm and perfumed oil. Her soothing strokes extended to his arms, hands, and fingers. The nurture was so comforting he shivered. She held him tenderly, holding her warm, voluptuous body next to his. A swollen breast was brought to his mouth and a hard pouting nipple pressed between his lips. She nursed him, cooing softly like a lovebird. He indulged in the comfort, hungrily suckling in contentment.

She rocked him for long moments, then withdrew the nipple and covered the first shoulder. His other shoulder was bared and massaged. Her ample alabaster breast was brought again to his mouth and the nipple teased his lips. He licked, sucked, and nibbled the sweet morsel in infantile abandon. She had bathed and anointed herself when she left, now, her body exuded a fresh and exciting redolence. He thrilled, stimulated by her utter femininity. She had either allowed the music to run its course, or omitted to play any more. The silence was palpable. Embracing. 

Beyond a pronounced ache, his throbbing arousal pulsed. Daphne unwrapped one of his legs at a time, warmed and massaged each, then attended to his feet, thighs, belly and back, paying special attention to his wrists and ankles, but purposefully ignoring his aroused and pulsing cock. He was inflamed by her touch. She ignored every sign of his arousal. 

Harry recovered from his painful ordeal of bondage, and from the chilly atmosphere of the basement, but ached for a complete release of his emotional tensions; a release that depended in part upon her orgasmic climax. He lay cuddled against her bosom, wrapped in her blanket as she rubbed her nose against him, tickled his lips with the tip of her sweet tongue, shove one her knees between his legs, reached down to find and gently squeeze his cock and ask,

"Ready for bed?" 

"Not quite." He grunted. 

He flung aside the blanket, dived between her supple thighs and was exhilarated to find that her muff was lathered with a brimming pool of copious crystal juices. He lanced his tongue inside her foamy cleft and greedily sucked her protruding clit. He followed by sinking two fingers beyond his tongue, deep in her yawning body. She yelped in delight. He licked, lapped and sucked. She lifted herself from the floor to meet His pumping digits. Without warning, he withdrew his fingers and thrust his naked sword to its hilt into her oiled scabbard. His hips drove repeatedly into her comforting depths. She wrapped her supple legs around his lower back and arched her body up to receive his delirious thrusts. Her strong fingernails dug into his shoulder clutched him in a forceful embrace that made him wonder whatever had become of the gentle and passive woman who had so sweetly surrendered to him in the past.

"Come on lover, claim your prize," she invited huskily. "Take me! Hard! Shove that big thing deep. Please! Deep!" she muttered through clenched teeth. His swollen rod expanded even larger at her insistence. He wrapped her in his arms and locked his lips into hers, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth. She received and held his tongue, interlocking hers with his in an intoxicating, whirling act of lingual frolicking. Quite separate from their vigorous intercourse below, where her pelvis clamped and pumped his plunging rod. They exchanged thrills from heaped stores of passion until he could no longer hold back his explosive tension. He felt her vaginal muscles contract as he plunged recklessly to achieve his own selfish orgasmic climax, knowing hers was right there along with his. 

Suddenly, she backed away. He felt her snake her hand between their bodies. Her fingers plunged through the red tendrils of her pubic hairs to find and stroke her clit as she reclaimed him in a writhing rhythm. They fucked selfishly, rebuilding the faded fervor, until from deep within him, a dam broke and he unburdened his load with a sense of release that had him yelping, growling, and moaning in unbelievably ecstatic joy and fulfillment. 

"DEE!" Here it is! Here I come, baby. "Ohh my God!" Here it comes! "Take me, Honey!" Take all of me." He was reckless as he drove his cock forcefully into her while his post-orgasmic tremors quaked on. 

Daphne arched her back to receive his pounding thrusts, and kept up the digital massage of her mound as she ground her pelvis savagely against his cock, still turgid within her steamy, foaming love canal. Then he felt her body erupt. Her climax came in wave after wave of volcanic convulsions. High throaty squawks emitted from her throat as her pelvis heaved. Harry held her tightly while her fluttering fingers flew their accustomed fitful dance between their tightly welded bodies. Her mouth buried in his soft yielding neck. She bit deeply into him and sucked the sweetness. 

Then, he realized that he was hearing the sound again. This time, it was like what he heard once, of a lone heron in flight at dusk, swishing her solitary way home in the gloaming. Daphne shook. Her body quivered and became feverishly hot. She shuddered, perspired, and sobbed as she clung to him. Down below, violent contractions continued to wrack her as her body, like a vise, constricted and clamped him. And then, as he steadied her, cognition dawned. He realized what had disturbed his snooze while she leered at him in the doorway. Now, Daphne's iridescent and irresistibly magnetic eyes searched deeply into his. Now her hands rested limply on her mound between their bodies. He gazed at her flushed face and relaxed mouth. A feeling of tenderness swept over him. He kissed her ruby-red cheeks as her bright searching stare relaxed. She pulled the blanket snugly around them. Their bodies gradually relaxed. Cooled. Remained locked together. They snoozed; closely entwined in the enveloping dark.



Ambrosia: Food of the God's



After a day and a half of delayed flights and multiple airports, George had finally made it, with friend in tow, to the beautiful island of Santorini.

"Let's go to the beach straight away after we check into the hotel," said Annie, George's super chic friend from NYC.

"Okay," George answered, although his voice hinted he was so tired nothing really mattered. He was just so happy for a vacation. Work sucked, his personal life sucked, and well, everything just kind of sucked. 

After checking into the hotel and going out to the black sand beaches, George let his worries go. Who could hate life when everything around him was so spectacular? The huge mountain of rock jetting out from the ocean, the little resort town behind him, the crystal clear blue water in front of him, he simply forgot everything and let out a sigh of happiness.

"Come on, let's get an umbrella," Annie said, as she sprang up behind George and grabbed his hand. They skipped and ran to the nearest umbrella, depositing themselves into two comfy lounge chairs. They both shed their cover ups revealing a girl in a sexy bikini and a boy in a chic boyshort Lycra swimsuit. 

"Oooooh, don't we look sexy," Annie chided.

"Look who's talking, Ms. I'm About to Bust Out of My Top," George retorted.

"Bitch!" Annie joked.

They lay in the hot sun, soaking in the rays, helping their pasty complexions take on some deeply needed tans.

"So I made dinner reservations tonight in this little town of Oia," Annie said, interrupting George's drifting thoughts.

"Really?" came the groggy reply.

"Yeah, it was recommended by Conde Nast Traveler. It is supposed to be really good and have excellent views of the sunset, overlooking the caldera."

"Sure, whatever," George replied, as he drifted back to sleep.

*****

"Shit!" George awoke with a start, as cold water dripped on him. 

"Ha ha," Annie laughed, standing over his chair, letting water drip from her hair onto him. "The water is fabulous. You have to go in now!"

"Fine," George got up, stretched quickly, and then ran to the water after feeling his feet start burning from the hot black sands.

"Damn, this is hot. It's like walking on burning coals," he said, as he watched Annie jump in ahead of him.

He took his time as he got used to the cool temperature of the water. He finally jumped in and swam out until he could no longer touch the bottom. This trip had made him think a lot about his life—primarily his personal life and how dead it was. It would be so nice to go on consecutive dates again (not just be a one date wonder). He hadn't been on any dates in a while, let alone been touched by another man. It was sad really. He wasn't into the whole random hooking up or having a 'fuck buddy.' He was really old fashioned, meaning he liked the whole let's have sex in the committed relationship sort of deal. It could sound boring to some, but that's the way he operated.

"What-cha thinking about there buddy?" Annie asked as she swam over in his direction. 

"Oh nothing, just how much you are going to hate me when I do this!" George replied as he sent a splash in the direction of her face.

"Hey! Not fair!" As she splashed back.

*****

After a few minutes of the splash war, they called a truce and Annie retired to her lounge chair while George continued to fight the ocean currents. He looked out at the blue surrounding him and thought about all of the promises he made his friends this summer. This was supposed to be his summer of ho-dom. Although it was against his better judgment, he had decided he would give it a go if the situation presented itself.

He swam back to shore and he and Annie gathered their things and went back to the hotel. They dressed for the evening, Annie wearing a brown jersey knit dress and George a midnight blue linen shirt and linen khakis. Both looked the part of the American tourist, but it bothered neither of them. They hopped on the bus and headed to the town of Oia.

"Oh, I can't wait," Annie said happily. "I have been waiting to try this restaurant since we made our travel plans to Greece." 

"Okay," George said. He didn't care one way or another where they ate. But if his friend was happy, that's all that mattered.

They found their way to the restaurant, a small place with an upper and ground level patio overlooking the caldera and the Mediterranean. They were seated by a friendly Greek woman, who placed them on the upper patio near the railing, so they had an excellent view of the impending sunset.

"This view is amazing!" Annie commented, elation resounding in her voice.

"So is he," George commented as he looked around the restaurant spotting a tall man, mid 20's, his hair fashioned in the chunky spikes—the "in" hair fashion in Europe. He had a good day or two of stubble on him; a patch of chest hair shown through his oversized untucked white Oxford shirt. A gold cross glinted in the diminishing sun, his long legs accentuated in tight black pencil jeans and his sporty silver Nike tennis shoes.

"Oh God, here we go again," Annie commented, "I am so going to buy you an escort. I can't take you when you get like this."

"Oh, whatever. He's straight. It's fine." George retorted. Being in Greece, his gay-dar was not working at all because most of the European men looked gay anyways, so he just didn't bother.

Elena, the woman who had seated them, brought them menus and following her was the swarthy man. George looked up at his face, into his big brown eyes; the man smiled and George just melted.

"My name is Gianni, and I will be helping Elena tonight," Gianni said in his accented English, as he put some water and bread on their table.

As Elena and Gianni walked away, George commented to Annie, "I usually don't like hairy guys, but damn, he is uber hot!"

"Will you just decide what you want to eat and stop drooling over our waiter!" Annie exclaimed, exasperated at her friend.

"Sorry," George said. "I will stop talking about boys. It's just there are so many cute ones here and I can't tell if they are gay or straight, and I am horny."

"TMI!" Annie said, glancing up from her menu.

George just smiled and they continued with ordering and eating their meal, while Annie watched the gorgeous sunset and George watched Gianni help the other patrons. Toward the end of dinner, Annie raised her glass and made a toast.

"To best friends," Annie said, raising her wine glass.

"Yes, to us." George replied, raising his water glass.


They drank and George asked, "I wonder where the bathrooms are? I really have to pee."

"I don't know. Why don't you ask our waiter? He is right behind you," she replied.

"Oh," George replied. He reached behind him, moving his arm up to gesture at the waiter, before he turned around. He felt his hand brush against a thigh, a buttock, and up a shirt, before he saw that Gianni was standing behind him, with his back facing George. George quickly retracted his hand, and as Gianni turned around to face his, George felt the blood rushing to his face.

"I am terribly sorry," George stammered, embarrassed because he wanted to keep his hand longer on Gianni's firm ass. Gianni flashed a big grin.

"It's no problem really. Do you need something?"

George asked Gianni where the bathrooms were.

"Come, I will show you, as it is a little confusing." 

George got up, smiled at Annie, and followed Gianni down the stairs to the main patio.

"How are you and wife enjoying Santorini?"

George chuckled at Gianni's question and answered, "She is not my wife. We are just good friends. I'm gay." 

George was waiting for Gianni to make a face or tense up, but all he got was an "Oh" as Gianni took him down another flight of stairs through a door with 'W.C.' written on it. A sink stood to the right of him with an empty women's and men's stall in front of him.

Gianni touched George's shoulder and with his other hand pointed to the empty men's stall. George turned to face a smiling Gianni and said "thank you." He locked eyes with the gorgeous waiter and realized Gianni's hand had not left his shoulder.

"Fuck it," George thought, "If I get punched for this, it will be well worth it," as he leaned into Gianni and kissed him firmly on the lips.

Gianni responded by kissing George back hungrily, drawing George's body closer to his. George pushed Gianni against the door of the W.C. entrance, as they continued to kiss each other like long lost lovers. Gianni was running his hands through George's hair and George felt Gianni's strong back underneath his white shirt. As Gianni stuck his tongue in George's mouth, George could feel Gianni's penis expanding down the leg of his tight pants. The pants were strangling him and George liked that Gianni was in a little pain. George gently bit Gianni's lip in a little love nibble, as he could feel his own pants tent from his strong erection. After they had kissed feverishly and felt each other up for about 10 minutes, a frustrated Gianni said, "We must stop. I have to get back to the other patrons."

"Don't go," George said sadly, "I really like you."

Gianni looked at George with his big brown eyes and said he was sorry, kissed George deeply and left with a smile as he opened the door and said, "See you outside."

George stood devastated and confused. He looked into the foggy mirror, splashed some cold water in his face and fixed his hair. He went into the men's toilet to relieve himself of that night's libations, washed his hands and trudged back up the two flights of stairs to his table. 

Annie looked at him and said, "It's about time you got back. I was going to send someone to go look for you. Did the food not settle with you right?"

George answered straight faced and deadpan, "No, I peed. I also made out with our waiter Gianni for 10 minutes too." 

Annie's face broke into a girlish grin and she laughed at his response, "Right and the volcano started erupting again while you were gone. Well, honey, I paid the bill when you were 'making out' with Gianni, so we can go when you are ready."

"Let's go then," George said, still not believing what just went on. 

As George and Annie go up from their chairs, Elena came over and wished them a good night.

"Goodnight Ms. Virwin and Mr. Karras," she said smiling. Gianni had joined her side and was waving and melting George's anger with his smile.

"Goodnight, " Annie and George replied, as they walked out of the restaurant.

Walking back toward the town square where the buses waited, Annie and George talked about the amazing food, which lifted George's spirits a little from the strange encounter he had with Gianni in the bathroom. 

They passed another restaurant, and a waiter winked at George. "I've still got it," George thought to himself.

"This island is so weird," George commented, on the bus ride back to their hotel.

"Why is that?" Annie asked.

"They just are," George replied.

"Who's they? The people?" Annie quizzed.

"Yeah. Everyone here."


"No they aren't. They're quite friendly. That one waiter tonight was really nice. About 10 minutes after you went to the bathroom, he asked me where we were from, how long we were staying, where we were staying, etc. Actually he asked a lot of questions. He was just nice. Maybe he liked me," Annie said.

"Ha. Maybe he is just a jerk who wants to come and rob us," George spat out.

"Aren't we Polly Pessimistic. No, I think he was just being friendly."

They got back to the hotel and George went to bed trying not to think about the amazing kisses or Gianni's smile. He couldn't help feeling the paradox of being both turned on and depressed about his encounter with the gorgeous waiter as he managed to fall asleep.

*****

The next day George and Annie awoke as usual, after the hotel had stopped serving breakfast at 11am. They donned that day's swimming attire, a lovely cherry ornamented Shoshana bikini for Annie and a black Lycra Prada European cut bathing suit for George. With a high affinity for fashion and Premier cards at Saks they hit the beaches in style everyday. They trotted down to the black sands and paid a man for their umbrella and lounge chairs. 

They picked out an umbrella next to a British bloke named Jeffrey who had come with his friend Brian. Annie had been chatting with Jeffrey since arriving at Santorini and George was happy she had a romantic prospect for their time on the island. 

"I'm going to go in the water for a bit to cool off," George said after settling in and saying good morning to Jeffrey and Brian.

"Alright babe, don't drown," Annie said with a mischievous smile.

"Bitch!" George said laughing, as he ran across the blazing hot sand. When he reached the cool water he slowed, until he was finally coaxed to submerge himself fully into the cool Aegean waters. As he swam, he again thought of the preceding night. He decided he couldn't get caught up in the weird night, but think of all of the hot foreigners he saw on the beach. Too bad they were all straight, but it didn't hurt to look and enjoy God's creations. George eventually swam to shore and returned to the umbrella where Annie was reading her James Patterson crime novel.

"How's the water?" she asked.

"Cold," came the reply. George sat on his lounge chair and sprawled out to allow the sun's rays to warm him. Ipod in place, he drifted in and out of consciousness for an indefinite period of time.

In his state of semi-consciousness he felt a shadow pass over him and remain there.

"Annie, stop standing in my sun! You're ruining my tan!" George croaked. 

"I'm lying right next to you. How can I be blocking your sun?" she replied, "Get up and move your chair if you are in a shadow." 

George opened his eyes, but his unadjusted eyes could only make out a beautiful smile and a familiar set of brown eyes in the glaring sun.

"I am terribly sorry," came the accented English voice from the smile.

George rubbed his eyes to make out the mirage clearer, and as he did, he felt a smile erupt throughout his body as he realized who the voice belonged to. 

He sat up and looked at Gianni, and said "Hi" with glee in his voice and a million thoughts rushing in his head. Why was Gianni here? Damn he really looked hot. Do I look okay? What is he doing here? Do you think he wants me?

"It is part of Ambrosia Restaurant's customer service policy to follow up with all of the patrons we kiss at the toilets," joked Gianni.

George's smile got bigger (if that's possible). Annie had sat up at this point and had a flabbergasted look on her face.

"I was wondering if I may take a walk with you and perhaps ask you some questions," Gianni continued, "It may take some time so I wanted to come and ask you personally."

George looked at Annie and managed to let out an, "Uh," before she flatly said, "Go. You need this. I will be okay with Jeffrey and Brian." 

George mouthed her a "thanks," grabbed his towel, bag, and flip flops and stood up.

He yelled, "I wasn't lying last night!" to Annie who still had a stunned look on her face, as he walked away from the chairs.

For the first time, George actually took in the full splendor of Gianni. He was about George's height, slightly shorter, with broad shoulders. Gianni was wearing a red Lycra boyshort swimsuit, which left little to the imagination, but contrasted well against his lightly tanned skin. His black chest hairs lay short and close to his toned chest and flat stomach. 

He lifted one of his toned arms and pointed down the beach toward the nearby cliffs and said, "Let's walk that way."

As he walked forward down the beach, George lingered behind allowing him to get a better look at this gorgeous man with a wonderful swimmers build. George's eyes trailed down Gianni's shoulders, down the muscles of his strong back, and rested on his firm little ass that filled out his red swimsuit perfectly.

Gianni turned his head and caught George standing there looking at his butt and smiled knowingly. "Come on," he said.

As they walked, they talked of each other's backgrounds. Gianni had been a transplant from America—his parents had returned to Greece when he was 13 and he grew up in Athens. He had just finished studying at Deree College, with a Masters degree in hospitality services where George had almost gone to undergrad. It was a university where the classes were taught in English. Gianni was now working at his uncle's restaurant, Ambrosia, for the summer, and he would work after the summer holidays at his uncle's hotels in Washington, DC and New York City. George perked up at the mention of Washington, DC. He told Gianni that he lived there and that Gianni was more than welcome to stay with him if he needed a place to stay. Gianni thanked him, grabbed George's hand and squeezed, smiling all the while.

"Where are we going?" George asked, after they had reached the end of the beach and were facing the mountain side and cliffs near Kamari Beach.

"We have to climb a few meters up and go around the mountain a little. There is a place I go when I want to be alone," Gianni answered.

"Okay, lead the way," George said. The trek wasn't so terrible, so George didn't complain. They continued their hike and continued their conversation. They talked of families, dreams, past loves, and current love lives. George hadn't had a relationship in two years, and Gianni had broken out of an abusive relationship six months ago. George felt a connection with Gianni; he couldn't help but feel elated at the prospect of this meeting.

"This is it," Gianni said. George looked around to see that they were in a rocky alcove on the side of the cliff. A small platform of rock jutted out into a calm pool of the crystal clear water below. 

There was nothing around except for the water in front of them, the boulders surrounding them, and the sun above them. A secluded alcove which provided tranquility and solstice for a young Greek man.

"It's beautiful," George commented.

He found a place to drop his bag and turned to Gianni.

"I thought you would like it," Gianni said, grabbing George up in his arms and forcing a kiss on his lips. George grinned as Gianni was kissing him. 

Gianni pulled back. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because I am happy, silly," George giggled.

"Well keep smiling, because you look so cute," Gianni said returning George's smile.

"Come on," Gianni said breaking their embrace. He removed his swimsuit and quickly dove into the water.

"Hey!" George said as Gianni started splashing him. 

"Watch out for the sea urchins," Gianni said, as he watched George remove his swim trunks and dive in towards his direction. 

George swam to Gianni and splashed him back. They swam to each other and had fun rough housing—splashing on another and tossing each other in the ocean. George was having a great time as Gianni ended up facing him in the water.

"It's so beautiful here," George commented, "I just can't believe life right now."

"Why not?" replied Gianni, looking into George's eyes, "Just enjoy life. Enjoy your vacation. Life is too short to work all of the time and not enjoy the beauty that surrounds us. There is still so much I want to experience and see, but I would like to experience life with someone and not alone."

Gianni kissed George, as they both struggled to stay afloat and tread water. 

"Let's go," Gianni said. They swam to the edge of the water, and Gianni got out and then helped George get out. They spread some towels and sat down, allowing the sun to dry their glistening skin. Their lips touched and they began to kiss again feverishly. George allowed Gianni to feel his growing lust for him, as George explored Gianni's body. George made his way down Gianni's body licking his salty skin, tweaking his nipples, allowing his hands to caress his skin. 




Ambrosia: Food of the God's



His tongue flicked the tip of Gianni's erect penis, sending a spasm through Gianni's body. As he took Gianni in his mouth he began to suck, allowing a moan to escape Gianni's mouth. George looked up into Gianni's face as he sucked and licked Gianni's balls. Gianni's eyes were closed, his face raised toward the sun, moaning in pleasure for George not to stop. George continued to pleasure Gianni's member until Gianni realized his thrusts were becoming too close to climax. He pulled George to his face and licked the salt off of George's lips before kissing him deeply.

Gianni made his way to George's cock. George felt the electrical shock of Gianni's tongue on his penis as it shot up his spine. George moaned with undeniable pleasure, as Gianni worked the shaft of George's cock with his hand while sucking on the head of the penis.

"Aah that feels so good. Don't stop!" George shuddered exasperated. George loved blow jobs, both giving and receiving, and he was currently being given an excellent example of one. Gianni sucked with such fervor, George felt he was going to burst. Gianni, feeling George getting too excited, stopped.

"Not yet. I want you to fuck me." 

George sighed at this beautiful man with his sexy accent. Gianni got up and took out some condoms and lube from his bag. He threw George a condom, as he leaned in front of a rock using one hand for support and on lubing his hungry bottom.

George got up, slid on the condom, and stood behind Gianni. He teased Gianni with his lubed dick by slapping and rubbing Gianni's awaiting ass.

"No more games. I want you inside me," Gianni pleaded, grabbing George's penis and guiding it into him.


George watched Gianni's face as he slowly entered him, seeing the grimace of pain turn into a mouthful of unreleased moans, as he moved deeper. He pulled back and pushed deeper, gaining rhythm as they both moaned simultaneously.

"You feel so good," Gianni groaned, "I wanted you to take me last night, but I was working."

"It's okay," George breathed, "We are together now."

George took his hand and grabbed Gianni's penis and began pumping as he thrust in and out of him.

"You are so hot," George whispered, his voice drowned out by Gianni's moans of pleasure.

Gianni took George's hand and removed it from his penis. George's penis filled Gianni and Gianni felt the pleasure pain phenomena with each thrust as George hit his prostate. The constant feeling of being on the edge of climax was too great for him.

"You must stop. I don't want to cum yet."

Gianni stood up, as George pulled out and began kissing George as he lead him to the towels. George laid down, head propped on his bag, as Gianni lowered himself onto George's cock. Facing George, he leaned down and kissed him ravenously as he rode George's hard thick cock with the same fervor. 

He rode George for a long while until George's eyes closed, head tilted back and he said, "I'm going to cum soon." 

"Cum inside me," Gianni moaned as he stroked his penis. 

"Aah," George moaned, his dick pulsating with cum into the condom and Gianni's ass.

He looked up at Gianni, whose eyes were closed, face contorted in ecstasy, and cum exploding from his cock all over George's neck and chest.

George's thrusts became less as he slowed to a stop and Gianni fell on top of him. They kissed and smiled at one another.

"That was fabulous," George managed to say between kisses.

"I know," Gianni answered.

They lay together underneath the sun glistening in sweat and cum.

"We have to get you back to your friend," Gianni said.

"She will be okay," George answered, "Anyways, I still have enough in me for another go."

Gianni smiled at him, sending warmth through George's chest and kissed him.

"Well, let's go cool off and get clean with a quick swim and I will see what I can do for you," Gianni said still grinning. "Remember that I will be in Washington in a month, and I plan on seeing you very frequently."

George's face lit up, and he said, "Well I will be here for two more days, and I want to make sure I see you again before I go."

Gianni got up and looked at George with his beautiful brown eyes and smile which could bring joy to the coldest of hearts and spoke the words, "I have to give you something to write home about, now don't I?" before jumping into the cool, awaiting waters.