by Eileen Glass
But all of that thinking flies out the window as he starts his palms at the base of the thick cock and spreads them slowly upward, slicking the shaft and touching the tip last. First with his thumb. Then rolling it between his palms like a ball of dough.
I am a chef preparing a feast.
And oh, he wants to taste. Just a lick. Just to get the flavor, to test the seasoning.
But I shouldn’t. Or he will be too quick. He might be close already.
And it would be a shame to spoil the meal.
But only two seconds later his will reserves run empty.
“My king. May I… lick?” He swallows. His mouth salivates. He wants it very much.
Persephone nods, frantically. And Hades dips down for his treat, inhaling deeply at first, and thinking, It might not be the young one who has to worry about finishing early.
He sticks his tongue out to taste the slit. But of course, a quick little taste only is not something he’s capable of. His mouth opens and swallows the head. He slobbers and guzzles and slurps onto it. He only stops because he’s licking off the lubrication too, so he can’t clean and nurse the cock to completion the way that he wants.
He picks up his head with a frustrated pout.
Next time.
Then he lifts himself up and positions his body over the hard cock. Persephone grabs onto his waist again. And while he does nothing to control Hades, such as shoving him down on his cock (that would be nice), the grip is strong and insistent. Hades is certain he could get a rise out of his stallion with enough teasing. Fortunately, he is not that patient.
Ten
Seph has never seen anyone more graceful and elegant than the pale god straddling him, playing with him, smiling seductively and gathering his long silver hair to one side so that it doesn’t get in the way as he lowers his mouth and sucks on Seph’s cock.
It is not Seph’s first time for that, thank the gods, or he would be done already. It is not necessarily the skill of the tongue that makes Teysus not even a nudge of guilt-laced memory at the moment. It is the image of the dark god enjoying himself over Seph, with Seph, that makes him feel like he didn’t have a sexual experience until now.
He’s glad he didn’t move into the mortal town.
He’s glad Hades found him when his mother left.
Staying here forever and ever and never seeing the upperworld again gets no complaints from him anymore. This new life is all he has, all he looks forward to, and all he will ever need.
The god’s legs are so long. So shapely. As he picks himself up, reaching behind himself again, parting one cheek to nestle Seph’s cock inside, Seph runs his hands over Hades’s knees. Up his thighs, right up to his waist, where he lets his fingers spread and take hold.
His husband gives him a playful smile. In the dining hall, the god might have been as impassive as stone, but here every little pleasure shows on his face. When he widens his eyes, that smile spreading, Seph knows he’s doing something right.
He likes to be caressed. He seems to like Seph’s hands best when they hold tight and squeeze. Hades rolls his hips downward with a pleasurable, girlish little gasp. Seph’s cock pushes against the tight, warm space. It’s small. But Seph is slick.
Still, Too wide, he thinks.
This is why Teysus was reluctant with him. Seph agreed to play the submissive role, but Teysus wouldn’t take the chance with the goddess nearby at the temple or in Seph’s home.
Hades balances himself on Seph’s shoulders. He goes up and down, nudging Seph’s cock inside him, and then holding it there, his muscles trying to push him out.
Seph holds tight to his waist, preventing his husband from sinking down any further.
“It’s too big.”
Hades erupts in a breathy laugh, but Seph doesn’t feel humiliated.
“You’ll hurt yourself. Give it more time. Or, let me… you know. Let us switch. I don’t mind.”
“Stallion, I haven’t even started to feel you inside me.”
He’s probably correct. The gods withstand pain a thousand times what can be experienced by a mortal. That doesn’t mean Seph wants to split this body, or even stretch him past the point of comfort.
“I want you to go slow. I want you to feel pleasure.”
“I will feel pleasure as soon as you are inside me.”
He tries to lower himself again, and is partially successful, but Seph strengthens the grip on Hades’s waist enough to keep him up. The dark god and he look each other in the eyes. And then, there seems to almost be a connection between them. Besides the physical one, of course.
Hades lowers himself slightly, experimentally. And Seph allows it for a short ways. When it seems too much, too tight, too small, then his fingers dig into his husband’s waist as hard as he can, to keep him from going lower. And when he impatiently tries to resist, Seph refuses to compromise. He won’t let Hades hurt himself.
In a way, Seph is in charge just now. Like he’s never been before.
And while he certainly wants to be buried in that tight heat, to open it up and rut until it’s loose and wet with cum, the absolute safety and comfort of the slender god is more important to him.
“I’m not the virgin here,” Hades says, clearly prodding to get his way.
“Almost there. Why are you so impatient?”
Hades chuckles again. It’s such a good sound. Seph gives him a little more while he’s answering. “I haven’t had the real thing—ahhh—the real thing in a long time.”
He continues, like a cat purring, “Oh, that’s it love, all the way. Now let me move.”
There is no further to go, but Seph restrains him, shutting his eyes with concentration because the muscles are so tight and pulsing on him, up and down, his entire length. Hades keeps rocking, pushing the head even further, and his ass sits atop Seph’s balls.
He has such a cute ass. What would he say if Seph told him that? Seph marvels at the fact that he’s buried inside it.
“I’m getting a little upset, stallion,” Hades growls, and then they are kissing again. Hotly. Deeply. His husband coaxes Seph’s tongue into his mouth and swallows it.
Without really meaning to, Seph’s grip loosens, and the dark god gets his way, moving on him. It feels amazing. It takes all of Seph’s concentration not to cum already, and he tries to focus on his tongue instead, how it’s deep inside his lover at the same time that his cock is.
Hades moans into his mouth. The bed creaks. Hades pushes down on his shoulders, bringing himself high for every thrust, and slams back down, his thighs flexing, his feet arched into the bed like a runner.
Seph gives up on the kiss. He throws his head back and just tries to breathe. To focus. Not to let loose, not yet.
His climax comes close, and he grabs behind the god’s cute ass to stop him. This is a far easier way of controlling him. He holds the god high, lets the tension ease out of his balls and cock a bit, and then sets his own pace with his hands. A slower pace.
“I want to enjoy this a while.”
By which he really means, I want to watch you on top of me.
Hades stays obedient, letting Seph dictate the pace. He whimpers often though, his eyes closing, his body rolling like a cat. He breathes with his mouth open, and his tongue makes a frequent appearance, licking his lips, curling behind his teeth, and sometimes he mouths a silent curse word.
And then there is his hair. Seph hopes there’s another night soon in the future and he will get to do this and play with the god’s hair.
“You picked me,” Seph says, not making an accusation. Just stating the facts.
“Uhh. Yes.”
“You wanted me like this.”
“Yes. Yes, stallion, yes.”
“Forever?”
Pale hands come and spread through his hair.
“You’re mine now, stallion. Nothing can take you away from me. Not Zeus. Not Apollo. Not any of those idiots.”
“Then I want to do this forever. With you. Only yo
u. I don’t want to play the games the other gods do. I don’t want you to have an affair—” Seph bites his lip. He nearly came. But he’s not quite ready yet, and he’s not done talking. “Don’t take another lover besides me, please. Or I’m going to be—”
A squeeze almost finishes him. He’ll have to cum soon before he starts to hurt. “—ah—the messed up boy-version of Hera.”
“Ugh. Don’t say her name.” Hades pets up and down his arms. “Do not worry, my mate. I am not popular enough to take other lovers. If you are not available, then I have nothing.”
“I will always be available.”
“Then I expect we will get along quite well.”
“Can I have you on your back?”
Perhaps this is too greedy. He should’ve waited another night, when they could’ve tried something else. Hades certainly seems to like this position.
It’s okay, Seph is about to say, and pick up pace to finish, but then Hades gives a breathy laugh.
“Yes, of course.”
Pulling out of him is quick, but not easy. The muscles try to pull him back inside as he leaves. Fortunately, it is not for long. Hades looks much better against the pillows, silver hair spilled everywhere, and Seph hikes his legs up high. Hades grabs both his knees to help, holding them high to expose himself, and Seph kisses the top of his head. Then there is only the sensation of a hot slick hole pulling on his cock, sucking Seph back inside like it missed him, and those pale, muscled limbs all around. Seph bends an arm under his head, cradling him, and drives as fast as his hot cock begs him to.
Hades finishes first, his mouth open, a deep manly moan coming out of him for several moments. And Seph ruts with the mess of his seed smearing their stomachs, not giving a damn how unusual and slightly gross this is. This is not exactly how he pictured it. But in a lot of ways, it’s better.
As well as he can since he’s cradling his head, Seph strokes the dark god’s hair with one hand, comparing him to a cat again for his softness and that super pink tongue, and then the flood rushes out of him. He buries himself deep and stays there, feeling his cum gush deeply into his husband. Whose inner muscles squeeze and caress and hold him.
That hole is wider now. Seph bets the next time they do this it will be easier.
He finds himself without a thing to say, parked as he is and not ready to leave quite yet.
“I-I think the situation has been rectified.”
He hates himself and his stupid brain.
“Oh, Persephone!” Hades kisses his nose.
“Call me Seph, please.”
And then he pulls out and away, wondering what the dark god will say. He does not feel so controlling and confident now, and he can’t believe some of the ridiculous things he’s done. The things he’s thought. Where he put his mouth. Putting Hades on his back like this for gods’ sake.
Hades is smiling though. And sprawled without shame.
“All right. Seph.”
Eleven
Hades wakes up feeling refreshed. He was exhausted, he slept deeply, and now he’s rejuvenated. It is not such an abnormal feeling for a mortal or even a normal god, but for decades now it has seemed that Hades was quietly dying inside his own head.
It would be easy to blame the underworld for this. There is not so much color down here, and that includes the spectrum of emotion as well. There is not a lot of drama and misfortune and mishap amongst the old souls of Elysium, all of them only the best of their mortal kind.
It is a happy place. A peaceful place.
A boring place.
Far less disruptive than the beautiful, vivid, chaotic world above.
More and more, as the centuries roll by, Hades ventures there less than ever. That was the purpose of appointing the three judges at the Field of Asphodel, and the various ferrymen, and assigning souls with leadership qualities to look after their individual neighborhoods in Elysium. He made a kingdom that runs itself without a king, technically. So he could leave sometimes.
Though nowadays he finds too many things to do down here, expanding the kingdom and making sure the other gods don’t bring their trouble and cruelty into this place. This is his domain. And always, he is planning with his architects for the constant expansion of Elysium into the infinite underworld wilderness.
It is a point of pride with him that every new area of Elysium is crafted with uniqueness and care, and that the neighborhoods do not make a lifeless pattern that repeats itself.
The souls must live here forever, after all. Someday the underworld will be the only world, and he wants exploration and wonderment to be the final state of all mortal beings who cross the threshold into Elysium.
But lately, it’s seemed that he might not make it to such a vision. The mortal world is still in its infancy, that final death billions of years away, and Hades is already quiet in his mind. Having no strong emotion. No passionate thoughts. Just the calm completion of everyday tasks, like a plow horse of this vast infinite world, trenching one house at a time.
And now he has Persephone.
Seph, as he likes to be called.
The dark god has not been surprised in forever. Seph has surprised him several times in a day. And Hades does very much appreciate the physical aspects of the young god. He eyes Seph’s figure as he sits up and yawns and stretches—physical activities that he hasn’t done lately. And he’s looking forward to doing more, particularly in his private bathhouse, where the home tour he intends to give Seph today should end.
He explores his dark bedroom naked for a bit, appreciating the minor discomforts of his physical body. Things he hasn’t noticed in a while. Like the cool marble floor and the difference in texture from that to the rug. And the feeling of the wine goblet in his hand. The weight of the liquid shifting inside the pitcher as he tips it over the golden cup.
He only pours a third of what he usually would for his morning drink. Lately he has been drinking it so much to feel alive. He won’t need that today.
Then, of course, it is time to start the business of the day. He opens the bedroom door and finds his three personal chamber servants sitting cross-legged in his study, chatting and laughing lightly. They all beam at him. For the first time in a long time, the dark god smiles back.
He supposes his slight upturn in the corners of his lips doesn’t count as a smile, but for him this is the most cheerful he’s awoken in eons.
The servants know him well enough to count it. They rise to their feet joyfully, bowing with respectful remarks made with mischievous intent.
“Sleep well, my king?”
“Shall I change the sheets, sir?”
“Still pretty by the day as in the night?”
Verah is bold. She is also the oldest-appearing chamber servant, around the age of an adult, maybe in her late teens.
It is the littlest one, Alfric, who was born with a cleft palate that his soul figure still maintains, who gives him the bad news.
“New ones runned off, sir. Gorgos and Jaffrès can’t find them. Need you to chase ‘em down.”
“Thank you, Alfric,” says Hades, with a sigh after.
Perhaps the kingdom does not quite run itself. Yet. Half of his job is overseeing the design and expansion of this place, making sure that it is an interesting world. The other half is maintaining his border, a job he gave to his very loyal pet, Cerberus. But Cerberus was shut in one of the stables yesterday, to keep him away for the wedding.
While Cerberus is everything a perfect dog should be, he is perhaps too ugly (to others) to meet the frightened, demure young god Hades expected to bring home. The feature that made each once-separate dog chosen as his hounds—the extreme love and protection of their family combined with fearlessness and a wary regard for strangers—led them to become the abomination they are today.
Cerberus was once three dog souls, who became so attached to each other they literally became attached to each other when their essence reached its ideal form. Remembering how they slept in a heap and clamb
ered together on top of him, Hades has thought that they are not much different than they were before. He is an unsettling creature to meet though, for newcomers. And an additional god in the underworld will be met with a warning growl and vigilant stares for a few days.
“I’ll go get them then,” Hades says, following Verah back into his room. He whispers, “Do not wake him.”
The chamber servants nod and go about their chores, bringing Hades his layers of clothes, even selecting his personal items.
Hades used to brush his own hair and select his own jewels, but when Verah noticed that he had stopped taking an interest in himself, she began to do more things for him. Today he lets her jump in and look after him simply because it’s efficient. And because, while lifting the occasional foot for a boot, or holding his arms out so someone can reach a button or buckle, he can watch the bed where Seph sleeps.
The stallion does look as pretty in the morning as he did last night with all those flowers and the dark circlet in his hair. Now, however, his hair is wild and tangled and spread all across his pillow. A tempting piece of it touches his nose, and Seph twitches like a rabbit. Then he huffs like the snort of a horse.
Whichever animal he is in Hades’s mind, he’s a cute one. And gloriously male as well.
“No thank you, Verah,” he says as she approaches him with diamond earrings today. The diamonds are actually his favorite, but after noticing Seph’s interest, he may have a new favorite now. “I’d like the teardrop sapphire earrings again today.”
She glances toward the bed and rolls her lips inward, hiding a smile. She nods once and comes back with the appropriate stones.
“Necklace for you today?”
“You choose.”
She brings him an aquamarine necklace, heavy with several rough-cut pebbles attached and layered around a diamond rope chain. This one is her favorite. Hades loves it too, especially when he goes to visit Poseidon, who doesn’t have anything nearly as nice. The god of the deep ocean tries to make seashells look like jewelry…
