Deep Water

by Nicola Cameron

  The idea had a certain appeal, but even with the support of the water Griffin suspected he’d be exhausted by the end of it. “No, this is fine.”

  “Good. Now, push back against me.”

  Something large and slick pressed against Griffin’s stretched muscle. He wondered when Poseidon had applied the lube, then belatedly bore down, grimacing at the abrupt blaze of stretching pain as he was entered. “Shit—”

  “Just a little more, love. Ah!”

  The intruder popped through his inner muscle rings and stopped. Griffin realized he was panting and tried to slow his breathing down, focusing on the cool water passing down his throat and into his lungs instead of the flaming sensation at the other end of his body.

  “Are you all right?” Poseidon asked, sounding a bit breathless.

  Just relax, breathe into it. It’s like the charley horses you used to get. Breathe and relax, let the muscle stretch out.

  He did. The buoyancy of the water helped, and so did Poseidon’s lips on the nape of his neck and the hand that snaked over his waist and curled around his own fist, holding it. “You feel incredible, my love,” Poseidon murmured. “So hot and tight.”

  Griffin felt more like a stuffed Christmas goose, but he grunted in acknowledgement. Finally, the pain died down to the background prickle. He could feel the god’s body trembling slightly and mentally gave thanks that Poseidon was being so damned patient and thoughtful. “Okay, go a little more.”

  He felt Poseidon’s thighs bunch, and then the god slid a bit further into him. Inch by inch, he was impaled on hard, slick flesh.

  Finally, he could feel Poseidon flush against his ass. “I think you’re all the way in,” he said, blackly amused at the way his voice wobbled.

  “I know. How are you?”

  “Still processing.” His inner muscles had cramped up at points, but they were relaxing now. “This feels so weird.”

  Poseidon’s lips pressed against the back of his head. “I know. The first time is always the hardest, no pun intended.”

  “Yeah. Feeling a lot of sympathy for women right now, to be honest.”

  That caused Poseidon to chuckle, which made him laugh in turn. His muscles loosened further. “Mm. Try moving a bit.”

  The god slid partway out, then back in again. There were no new cramps or pain. Griffin held onto Poseidon’s hand and closed his eyes. “I think I’m good. Go ahead.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll wait as long as necessary.”

  “I’m sure.” He wriggled as best he could on the thick cock inside him. “Give me that divine seed, big guy.”

  Poseidon growled, a hungry noise that sent shivers down Griffin’s spine, and started a slow, rolling thrust. For some reason each push was differently angled from the previous one. Griffin was about to ask if Poseidon knew what he was doing when the god’s cock rubbed directly over his prostate. Pleasure spurted through him again, and he threw his head back in a shout.

  “There we are,” he heard Poseidon purr. The god stepped up the pace of his thrusts, making sure that every movement rubbed directly over that one marvelous spot deep inside. Soon enough Griffin found himself grinding back on Poseidon as his balls clamored for release.

  “Fuck. Make me come,” he said between pants.

  Poseidon’s hand moved lower and cradled his balls, that warm rush of power pouring into his body again and electrifying his nerves. With no way of getting friction via his cock, the inner friction of Poseidon’s shaft churning back and forth in him was intensified, stoking his orgasm closer and closer towards its peak.

  The familiar sensation bloomed, sending white sparks across Griffin’s vision. He grunted and came hard, creamy semen spilling into the water like miniature streamers of pale seaweed. At the same time he heard Poseidon moaning in pleasure, pounding into his ass now. The thick intruder swelled a bit more, and the god cried out, thrusting hard into him.

  If the vocal and physical evidence hadn’t been enough, Griffin knew the god had come because he could feel something warm and tingling seeping into his colon. Okay, magic cum, do your work.

  Still dazed from his own orgasm and feeling a god come inside him, he didn’t notice the little fishes at first. Painted in stripes of blue, silver, and orange, they gathered around the bed as if waiting for a command. Poseidon held up a hand that Griffin saw had been smeared by semen. The fishes rocketed to it, cleaning it off with little nibbles.

  It was interesting and slightly gross at the same time. “Are they supposed to do that?” he asked.

  “They’re cleaner fish,” Poseidon explained. “Bythos bred them for me. They can digest practically anything without injury, so they clean up any spills, waste, or dropped food around the palace. Watch.”

  When the fish pulled back from his hand, all traces of semen were gone. Poseidon slid it under Griffin’s chin and gently turned his face for a kiss. “Thank you, beloved. That was … I don’t have the words to describe it.”

  Griffin kissed him back. “Thank you for being so patient. I really appreciate that.”

  Close up, the god’s eyes were a stunning shade of sea blue. Now they darkened slightly. “Did I hurt you? Be honest with me.”

  “No, not really.” When Poseidon continued to stare at him, he squeezed the arm wrapped around his waist in reassurance. “I’m serious. It hurt a bit at first, yeah, and I cramped up some, but I really started to enjoy it towards the end.” He winced. “Although if you could pull out—”

  “Of course. My apologies.” With care the god detached himself. The ache flared hot again for a moment, and Griffin suspected he wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a day or two. Especially if he’s going to do this again tomorrow.

  He turned over, letting Poseidon pull him close. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Whatever you like, beloved. Although I wouldn’t be averse to a nap, to be honest.”

  A wave of tiredness stole over him. “Yeah, that does sound good.”

  He yelped abruptly as he felt a ticklish, nibbling sensation between his bum cheeks, jerking away from it and closer to the god. “Jesus! They’re cleaning my arse!”

  “Of course they are.” Poseidon rolled away a bit, allowing more cleaner fish access to his groin to perform the same duty. “It’s actually rather pleasurable. Just relax and enjoy it.”

  I am never going to enjoy having fish eating my arse out. But Griffin held on grimly without wiggling until the fish had finished their duties. “Now can we go to sleep?” he muttered.

  Poseidon chuckled indulgently. “Yes, beloved.”

  Muscled arms closed around Griffin, a reassuring weight. Wriggling a bit, he relaxed and let himself drift off.

  ****

  Amphitrite gasped in shock, her fork slipping from her fingers and clattering onto her plate. “Oh!”

  She’d just sat down to a nice dinner of fettuccine Alfredo when the unexpected desire hit, slamming into her with the force of a javelin. A melting heat now radiated up from between her legs, bringing with it a sweet ache that she’d almost forgotten. She felt so...

  Hot. Strange. In need of a good fucking. All of them applied, and none were quite right. She clenched her thigh muscles, trying to regain control. Another wave of need swamped over her, making her grit her teeth. Getting to her feet, she tried not to wobble as she headed to the bedroom.

  Stretching out on the bed, she pulled down her slacks and silk underwear, sliding shaking fingers between her legs. As she suspected, she was more than wet and ready, throbbing as if someone had been pleasuring her for hours.

  But who? She closed her eyes, trying to trace the sensation back to its source. It held the flavor of Poseidon, but there was someone else as well, someone who felt astoundingly familiar and strange at the same time.

  Medusa?

  That was impossible. Her beloved girl was gone, lost these last millennia. And yet the feeling held Medusa’s innocent passion combined with Poseidon’s lusty sensuality and skill.

  Her oth
er hand crept up, cupping her breast. One finger circled the nipple, teasing it. She could imagine herself lying between her agapetos, their mouths tracing scorching paths over her skin. Poseidon behind her, his thick cock lying warm and insistent against the curve of her ass as he nuzzled the nape of her neck. And Medusa in front, her delicate little hands cupping Amphitrite’s breasts and plucking sweetly at her nipples. One teasing hand slid down between her legs, cupping the plump flesh there before stroking her clit.

  Her own fingers between her legs began to rub in time with her fantasy, adding a delicious friction. She sped up her stroking, sending flames of desire licking up through her belly. The wet, sensitive flesh between her legs tensed, then spasmed hard. She let out a muffled sound as her body wrung out the most amazing orgasm, blanking out everything except the sensation of her agapetos.

  Both of them.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she returned to herself. Her skin tingled from the warmth of the ichor flowing through it, and she felt a small, contented pulse between her thighs. This is how it would have been, with both of them.

  But I will never have this. Gaia, why do you torture me so? She blinked hard, but a tear still escaped, rolling off her cheek and splashing onto the sheet.

  Oh, my loves. I miss you, both of you, so much.

  ****

  Griffin stretched lazily, taking in a deep breath of warm, salt-tinged air.

  Air? He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in his cottage bedroom. Wait, how did I get home?

  He sat up, checking the other side of the bed. It was empty. Lifting the covers, he saw he was in his usual sleepwear.

  Was all that a dream? Despair crashed through him. Had everything that had happened with Dunn—Poseidon—been some sort of bizarre erotic fantasy cooked up by his tumorous brain to give him a sense of hope?

  He rolled over to touch the other pillow, trying to see if there was any warmth left, any evidence that he hadn’t slept alone. A very definite pain shot through a certain portion of his anatomy, and he yelped.

  Moments later Poseidon appeared in the bedroom doorway, carrying a tray and looking worried. “Are you all right?”

  Despite the ache in his ass Griffin couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on his face. “You’re here.”

  “Where else would I be?” Poseidon said mildly. “I thought you might like something to eat, so I made breakfast.”

  He hefted a tray of slightly burnt toast on two plates, two mugs of what Griffin hoped was tea, and a pot of marmalade. “If you want something more substantial I’m afraid I’ll have to ask Aphros for help,” he added. “As you may have noticed, my culinary skills seem to end at toasting bread.”

  “Toast is fine. No, I meant you’re actually here.” Griffin swung his legs over the side of the mattress and sat up, wincing again at the ache from his ass. “I was afraid I’d dreamed everything up.”

  “Ah.” Poseidon eyed his clothes. “I brought you back while you were sleeping. I thought you might be somewhat tired after yesterday.”

  “Sore, more than anything.”

  The god smiled at that. “I would apologize, but your aura has already improved.” He nodded for Griffin to sit back on the bed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress and placing the tray between them. “How do you feel?”

  Griffin considered it. “Better. I’m not about to run a 5K or anything, but I definitely feel a little stronger and more clearheaded—” He stopped as he realized what the god had just said. “Wait, you can see my aura?”

  Poseidon nodded, applying some marmalade to a piece of toast. “All gods can. We’re able to see the bioelectrical field any living creature generates.”

  Griffin tried to imagine that. “Must make looking at things kind of cluttered.”

  “Oh, no. It makes the world beautiful. Humans talk about everything on earth being interconnected. We can actually see it.” Poseidon took a bite of the toast, and made a face. “I really do have to work on my cooking skills. Burnt offerings are for the temple, not for breakfast.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Griffin slathered marmalade generously over his own piece of toast and washed the somewhat carbonized bite down with a gulp of tea. “So what does my aura look like?”

  Poseidon leaned back, studying him. “Every aura looks like a cloud of color that follows the living creature’s general outline,” the god said. “Sparks of light pulse through it, indicating the flow of life force. Right now, your aura looks rather like static on a television screen, which is unsurprising considering your illness. But I can already see streaks of orange showing through the grey. I suspect that when you’re healthy your aura will be a mix of orange and yellow.”

  “Not blue?” Griffin took another sip of tea. “I mean, I am a marine biologist.”

  The god chuckled. “Your career doesn’t reflect your aura color. Take Ian, for example. He’s a storm god, and yet his aura is bright gold.”

  “Do colors have anything to do with personality?”

  “They tend to, yes. Those with warmer colors in their aura tend to be more passionate.”

  Griffin’s groin tightened pleasurably at the tone in Poseidon’s voice. “So you’re saying I’m passionate?” he teased.

  The god’s eyes twinkled, and he leaned closer. The scent of clean male, salt air, and something deliciously musky drifted from him. “You have a warm and generous heart,” Poseidon said, “a fierce spirit that is an utter delight to interact with, and a body I want to worship in close and intimate detail. And this is you at a mere percentage of your total power. When you’re fully healed, my love, I suspect you will be able to set mountains on fire with your passion.”

  Griffin found the compliment absurdly pleasing. “Next time, I bet we’ll set the world on fire,” he said.

  A slow, wonderful smile lit Poseidon’s face. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For saying that there will be another time. I wasn’t sure if you would be willing.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ache a little.” Well, a lot. “But I enjoyed it.” He grinned. “Leilani always wanted to try playing with my ass. Now I wish I’d said yes.”

  “Good.” Poseidon grinned back. “I enjoyed it greatly, as well.”

  “I figured. Just be aware that it’s going to take me some time to get used to this, all right?”

  The god’s grin dimmed a bit. “What do you mean?”

  “I never even let a woman stick a finger up my bum before, and here I am more than willing to let you bugger me.” He fiddled with his piece of toast. “I suppose I’m just feeling a little conflicted here.”

  “Ah, I see.” Poseidon pulled his legs onto the bed, sitting in a neat tailor’s seat. “I’m afraid that mindset dates back to the ancient Greeks.”

  “What mindset?”

  “That it’s unmanly to take the receptive role in sex. I take it that’s what’s bothering you?”

  Griffin felt like squirming under the bald statement. “Look, I’m not bigoted towards gay blokes or anything—”

  “I’m not saying you are. It’s a power dynamic that can happen with gay men as well.” Poseidon looked thoughtful. “Let me ask you, would you be having these same concerns if you were buggering me?”

  “I—” Griffin’s mouth stayed open as he tried to work that particular question out. “Shit. I guess it would be easier to accept that way.”

  “Unsurprising,” Poseidon said drily. “Beloved, I am one of the most powerful gods on the planet. In my time I have razed cities and flooded coastlines, inspired warriors and artists, and have tumbled more maids and men into bed than I can remember. I have lived for millennia, and barring an asteroid strike I should continue to live for millennia more. Would you consider me weak or unmanly in any way?”

  Griffin studied the god sitting on the end of the bed. Poseidon was, quite simply, a paragon of maleness. Memories from the previous night floated through his mind, seeing Poseidon stretched out next to him, every muscle
and vein on his huge body beautifully delineated. And his cock was something that would have made Michelangelo scrabble for a hammer and chisel. “Not in the slightest.”

  “And if I said I wanted you to fuck me?”

  Griffin froze, tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. “You—what?”

  Poseidon leaned closer, sea blue eyes deep enough to drown in. “When you are feeling up to it, Griffin, I want you to fuck me. I assure you, weak is the last thing I’ll feel.” He sat back a bit. “Right now, you need my seed inside you, which means that I’ll be topping you. But I promise you, that won’t always be the case.”

  Griffin’s cock was doing its absolute damnedest to inflate. “You mean that? You’ll let me fuck you?”

  “I’ll relish it.” Poseidon’s voice dropped into a low, velvet purr. “I plan on riding you like one of my stallions, my love. I can’t wait to feel your cock push inside me, filling me and rubbing against that wonderful spot that makes me want to scream with pleasure. I want you to make me come, my muscles milking your cock as I spurt all over you. And then I’ll watch your face when you come inside me, making me yours.”

  “Oh, God.” The ache in Griffin’s ass shifted, accommodating a new ache in his balls. “If you’re trying to talk me into an orgasm, it’s working,” he groaned.

  “Good. You need to come a few more times today, I think.” Poseidon shifted, avoiding the tray as he straddled Griffin’s outstretched legs. He leaned forward, brushing his lips over Griffin’s. The simple contact made them tingle. “I’ll just have to make that happen, won’t I?”

  “Works for me,” Griffin said hoarsely, sinking back on his pillow and letting the god cover him. Poseidon was heavy, but in a good way, and it was obvious he was taking the bulk of his own weight on his arms, judging by their bulging muscles.

  Another bulge nudged his cock. He winced.

  Poseidon froze. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  The worry creasing the god’s face would be comical if Griffin didn’t know what was behind it. “Seriously, calm down. It’s okay. I just thought … you probably should fuck me again, yeah?”