by Rosanna Leo
No chance for padding there.
Nestled between his legs was the most glorious cock she'd ever seen. She'd suspected it would be big, but this was frankly insane. Almost too big, too thick. Would she even be able to wrap her mouth around it? But then it throbbed for her, and she changed her mind.
It was perfect. She couldn't wait to taste him.
She lowered herself, and Dionysus made a strangled noise of carnal agony. Snuggling in between his firm legs, she got comfortable.
And licked.
In her head, she swore. He was that tasty.
Out loud, Dionysus was letting loose a string of curses she barely understood, no doubt in Greek. Then he switched to English, possibly for her benefit. “Ah, fuck. By Hera's fragrant pussy, that feels so good!"
Josie giggled, pleased at his reaction. They might not be together forever, but she could give him this. Maybe it was possible to impress the jaded Greek god with her humble mortal techniques. Dipping her head, she licked him again, swirling her tongue all over the tip of his penis. Sucking him, milking him. Taking him deeper than she ever wanted to take any man.
Wanting him inside her, any which way. Needing him.
Loving him, if only for a moment.
And all the time, he ran his trembling fingers through her hair, telling her how much he loved what she was doing. How she felt so good to him.
As a bead of his essence sprang from his tip, he made a noise and pulled her up. She couldn't help feeling disappointed. “Why did you stop me? I want you to come."
His eyes changed, seeming almost to glow with lusty fervor. Making him look very much like the wild man portrayed in so many of those paintings by the old masters. “Don't worry. I plan to come. But not like this."
He waved his hand in front of her, and her clothing disappeared. Every last stitch of it. Even while trying to figure out how he did it, she spied it lying in a pile a few feet away. And as she felt a shiver of anticipation travel through each limb, he waved his hand again and his clothing disappeared too, only to join hers in the small pile. Even the laurel-leaf wreath had flown from where it had been tangled in his curls.
Josie stared at him, taking him in. She'd imagined him naked. God knew she'd imagined it countless times. But not once in her dreams had he ever looked as fine as he did in reality. Dionysus was long and lean, sculpted as if by an artist's hand. Each muscle undulated with perfection, his arms and legs corded and taut. His abdomen boasting an eight-pack that would make bodybuilders drool. As he moved toward her, she glimpsed the sweetest ass she'd ever had the pleasure to see. Firm and rounded. Perfect for gripping while she wrapped her legs around him.
While she stared at him, agog, he stared back at her as if she were just as pretty as all his goddess friends. Or as wild and raunchy as his drunken maenads of old. As if she were blowing his memories of Ariadne right out of the water. It was unbelievable to see such desire in his eyes.
He reached for her, laid her back down on the ground, and smoothed his hand over her breasts and down to her belly, kneading the flesh there.
Oh man, she wished she'd had a stricter regime of sit ups! Or that she did any exercise at all.
He didn't seem to mind. He whispered to her, “You're the most exquisite thing I've ever seen.” He choked back a breath. “I need you so badly, sweet Josie."
She threw her hands around his strong neck. “Have me, then. Take me. Do whatever you want to me."
He arched a dark brow at her. “Whatever I want?"
"Anything."
And then he smiled at her as if he had a few interesting things in mind.
Dionysus knew one thing for certain. He had to taste her again.
Since he'd pleasured her in The Sinners, running his tongue through the most delicious pussy on earth or in the heavens, he'd been praying for the opportunity to do it again.
If he could only drag himself away from her mouth now.
Her kisses drugged him, as sure as his had drugged so many others through the centuries. Once again, he was amazed at how innocent and new he felt under Josie's hands. As if she wiped his very dirty slate clean. Each time her tongue flicked against his, each time she welcomed his tongue into her mouth, he forgot who he was. Forgot he had a lengthy, sordid past. With each pass of her lips, he felt more and more like those wandering souls in The Oubliette.
Bereft of all thoughts and feelings that didn't concern Josie.
She was all he knew. All he ever wanted to know.
He pressed his naked body into hers, feeling the wetness between her legs as it grazed his thigh.
Now, he thought. Now.
He slid down her voluptuous frame, stopping only to nuzzle and nip at her sinful breasts for a few, luscious moments. Then he situated himself between the legs spread so willingly, so artfully, for him.
And he ate. Filling himself to the brim with her womanly juices. Drinking her in as eagerly as he'd so often drunk the finest wines he could conjure. After Josie, those wines would taste like swill. Nothing could be as tempting, as satisfying, as the taste of her love for him.
Was it love? He wasn't yet sure.
Her fragile moans spoke of love. The way she writhed her hips underneath him told of love. And the way she'd cried his name upon remembering him, like a forlorn child being reunited with a lost stuffed bear, made him want to believe she loved him.
She just hadn't said the words.
Gods help him, he'd inspire her to say them! If he had to use his every last trick, he'd help her see they were meant to be together.
He dragged his tongue along her quivering seam, then paused and did nothing for a long moment. Just stared and appreciated the beauty of her while she grew impatient. She began to move, began to sigh.
Oh, how he was enjoying this!
She was so close to begging. He didn't need her to beg, but to tease her was such bliss.
"Dionysus,” she implored, her voice cracking.
He lowered his head and nibbled at her swollen lips, pulling on them gently, watching as they fell back into position like the strong inner petals of a flower. He buried his face in her opening and heard her cry out.
"No way, baby,” he chuckled before she lost herself completely. “You're not coming like this either."
He positioned himself atop her, letting his happy cock nestle between her happy folds. She wrapped her legs around him and sighed. “Finally."
He smiled. “Finally."
With that uttered word, he kissed her and buried himself inside her.
Josie opened her eyes, feeling a breeze all around her. They seemed to be moving! Like, off the ground!
At first when Dionysus began to thrust, exposing her to the most sinful, delightful feeling she'd ever known, she'd just felt utter relief at being joined to him. As if their bodies melded together were written in the stars. As if the unheard of pleasure was somehow preordained. Meant to be.
But then this phenomenal rushing sensation overcame her, and she wondered if they were taking off. Lowering her head to kiss his skin, she looked over his shoulder.
Mother of God, they were flying!
She clutched at Dionysus as they rose high above the meadow and the willow tree. “What the hell is happening?"
He grinned, and then ran his tongue along the length of her neck, making her explode in goose pimples. “You're safe. Just hold onto me."
"Considering you're currently inside me,” she cried, “that shouldn't be a problem.
She listened to his deep laughter, titillated even more, and watched as they soared into the sky. Before long, she was seeing stars, and not just because he was pumping into her with the most wonderful appendage in existence, but because they were so high up. For a moment, she thought she spied some of the constellations that told tales of Dionysus and his heavenly family.
He kissed her deeply and her eyes fell closed, as much as she wanted to watch their progress through the sky. Within seconds, they came to a soft landing on a hard surface,
and her eyes popped open again.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! They were in a temple!
There were columns lining the ornate room and beautiful, veined marble everywhere. White, with streaks of dove gray running through it. Little shrines were set up in various spots throughout the room, decorated with vines that still had plump grapes attached. And in the middle of the temple was a large altar. One on which they were currently splayed.
Dionysus was still between her legs, still somehow thrusting with a momentum that never seemed to fade, despite all their travels through the firmament. He wasn't even out of breath and looked quite pleased with himself.
"What is this place?” she asked.
"My temple. You're in my fantasy now."
Yet, even as he said those words, Josie recognized the room. Recognized the altar. It was the scene she'd envisioned when he took her in The Sinners. She'd imagined him making love to her on an ornamented altar, and here they were. Somehow, they'd had the same fantasy, and he was making it come true for her.
He was her dream come true. Somehow she knew she'd always been searching for him. Dionysus. The only man she could ever love.
He slid in and out of her pussy with agonizing languor. Making her want to be ravished hard and fast, then slowly again. Everything he did, each delicious movement, seemed to speak to her. To call her name. And her body was responding with a passionate cry she'd never heard in herself. He angled her legs, thrusting deeper, and her breath seized. He reached between them and circled her clit with his expert thumb, and her body quaked. He threw her legs over his shoulders and grunted, fucking her hard, and she felt her orgasm take her. Throw her. Toss her in the air and twirl her like a baton.
Now she knew why those French writers called it a “little death.” Her limbs were as useless as those of a jellyfish. She felt broken, yet healed at the same time.
She felt as if everything were right and beautiful with the world.
Dionysus came, his voice shouted out a guttural expression of his pleasure. He expired atop her.
She closed her eyes and felt a love so strong it could have been blasphemous.
When she finally opened her eyes, they were back under the willow tree, bodies still sweaty and tangled.
He must have felt the flutter of her eyelashes on his cheek because he looked at her, his eyes full of emotion. “Josie, I love you."
Her heart soared, much as they'd soared through the sky. “I love you, too."
They both began to laugh, like a couple of shy teenagers making out behind the school wall. After a time, during which they caressed and kissed each other to the point of near exhaustion, he made more food appear. Veal sandwiches, this time. Her favorite. Also some wine for him, and, as per her request, water for her. She didn't want to get loopy again and miss a single joyous moment with him. They fed each other, slowly helped each other get dressed, and stood.
After all, they still hadn't found Eurydice.
As they walked away from the willow tree, Dionysus put his arm around her shoulders. She felt so safe with him, but hadn't lost sight of where they were.
She turned back, wanting to capture the image of their meadow in her memory. Wanting to remember the curve of each willow branch. But when she turned, the landscape had transformed yet again. The flowers had all withered, died. The grass was replaced by dry, pock-marked dirt. And the willow tree had fallen over, gaping from a huge cut in the trunk. As if a giant hand had reached down and snapped it like a twig.
Josie felt melancholy take her. Even this, their beautiful meadow, had been destroyed. Her chest heaved, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling. “I hate this place. I hate Hades."
Dionysus enfolded her in his arms and whispered against her ear. “Hades isn't hellish when you're with me."
She looked up and smiled through her tears, feeling like a drippy, snotty mess. “And to think, you've gone the whole time without a coffee."
"Josie,” he said, his eyes full of love, his fingers slowly raking through her hair. “Don't you know by now? It was never about the coffee."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 12
Galvanized by the knowledge of his love for her, Josie found she was able to continue their journey with new energy. Yes, they were in a sick place created by the sickest of sick minds, but Dionysus had assured her it must be over soon.
"You really think Eurydice is caught in this next level?"
"I do,” he assured her, pulling her along, looking revitalized himself. “I can't see how an innocent woman could get trapped anywhere else."
"But aren't there more sections to hell?"
"Sure. ‘Special’ spots for the truly vile. Like where Orpheus is. Sort of like the solitary confinement in a prison. Kept away from the general population so the other prisoners don't get any funny ideas about making you their girlfriend."
"Ew,” she whispered, grimacing.
"If Eurydice is anywhere here, she'll be in ‘The Forgotten Ones.’”
Josie cocked an eyebrow at him. “And do I want to know why it has that name?"
He turned, drawing her in for an embrace, his extraordinary warmth seeping into her as it always did. Making her feel better instantly. “The Oubliette makes you want to forget. In The Forgotten Ones, you'll be confronted by those who've been forgotten."
"It sounds the same."
"Not really. It's true, so much in Hades is about forgetting.” He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, then leaned over and kissed her lobe, making her body hum with desire. “Forgetting who you were. Forgetting who loved you. Forgetting life. Here, more than anywhere, Josie, I need you to remember. And please, don't touch anything. Don't touch anyone."
"Right,” she said lightly, trying to make a joke. “Or else I'll have to stay, I guess?"
He looked at her as if her words were true, making her heart sink. “Are you ready?"
"Sure,” she said, smiling, like an overwrought mourner at a funeral who couldn't stop laughing. “Is this where I finally get to see some fire and brimstone?"
"Not quite."
They took another step, and a door appeared in front of them. A nondescript door. The kind you'd see on any house or building. Dionysus reached out a hand toward the knob and turned it.
Josie walked through the doorway and couldn't believe her eyes. They were in a room, a gargantuan room. Like every location she'd seen in hell so far, it was huge, as if it could contain countless souls. And she supposed that was the idea.
The walls were painted, an inoffensive pastel color, although it was difficult to determine exactly which color it was. It wasn't quite pink, but didn't resemble blue or green either. It was just ... blah. On the walls were paintings. Not very good paintings. Just prints of banal subjects. Here, an apple. There, a sleepy dog. In another, a faded lily. There was a cubicle near the door, one that looked very much like a receptionist's office, but with no sign of a receptionist. And lining each lengthy wall were chairs. An endless series of chairs upholstered in diarrhea-brown vinyl. The sort of upholstery which looked as if it would stick to your thighs on a hot summer's day. And there were bored-looking people sitting in those chairs, reading old, tattered magazines.
"Oh my God,” she breathed. “Hell is a waiting room!"
Dionysus grinned down at her. “Well, this part anyway.” He waved his hand around. “Can you think of anything more hellish? An endless wait for a doctor who never appears? I always thought this part was quite clever of Uncle Hades."
"If you say so."
They moved into The Forgotten Ones, or as she couldn't stop calling it in her head, The Doctor's Office. Some heads looked up in their direction, expressing the beginnings of interest.
"Remember,” he started to warn her.
"I know,” she said, feeling a chill down her spine. “No touchy."
A man approached them out of nowhere. “Josie! How are you, gorgeous?"
She turned, astonished, and saw Sean Davison. Her high
school crush. Looking just as he had then. Tall, with rich-boy good looks and charisma oozing out of his perfect ears. Grinning at her as if he knew what she looked like naked.
Of course, he did.
Did this mean he was dead or just illusion? She turned to Dionysus for clarification, but he didn't look able to help. He was too busy glaring at Sean as if he could kill him.
"How's Mike? How's Angelo?” Sean asked. He was gnawing gently on his bottom lip, the practiced move that used to set her teenaged body aflutter. And he was looking her body up and down as if he very much approved of what he saw. He pointed to an empty chair. “Sit with me and talk for a while. I've missed you, gorgeous."
Gorgeous. He'd always called her that. Her and all the other girls he'd fucked in high school. Only Josie was the only one who'd gotten pregnant by him.
It all came back to her then. Her adulation of the handsome boy from a wealthy family. Her excitement when he began to display some interest in her. He'd said he'd loved her. And she'd been head over heels with him. He'd been as exotic as an otherworldly creature to her. Seductive and charming, the boy with all the right gestures, with all the right words.
She'd tried so hard to forget him. And here he was in The Forgotten Ones.
Fate sure did have a funny way of kicking you in the ass sometimes.
Dionysus tugged on her arm. “Josie, tell me. Please."
The story came pouring out of her. “He was my high school boyfriend. At least, I thought he was, but he wasn't really interested in me. He just wanted another notch on his belt. I got pregnant. I'd never been so scared in my life. I didn't tell anyone. Not my brothers, not my parents. Not even a friend. I was so ashamed."
"But,” she continued, “I loved him. I wanted to keep the baby and be a family. But Sean told me to abort it, and since I would have done anything for him, I did.” She ignored the tears that were raining down her face. Just stared at the picture-perfect image of the boy who'd made her afraid to love all these years. “Within two days of the abortion, he broke up with me. Within three days, he was hooking up with the next girl. When I questioned him about it, he told me I wasn't the ‘right sort of people’ to be a part of his family."
