Yvette's Haven
Page 102
By Tina Folsom
What would the punishment be this time? A year in Hades for giving it to Zeus’ mistress du-jour? Seemed like a fair exchange, Triton thought. It could be worse. He could be bridled from any sexual activities for a decade—which would suck to say the least. Anything, just not that! He’d never survive it. Not sating his sexual urges for a week bordered on excruciating, a decade would be pure torture.
At least in Hades, he could screw some desperate souls, and the year would pass in delicious debauchery. He could deal with the heat and the stench, and surely, Father’s other brother, Hades, wouldn’t make the stay too uncomfortable for him. As long as Triton kept his hands off Hades’ wife. Now there was a beauty, if there ever was one.
Despite his thoughts, Triton kept his head down and his eyes averted, not willing to piss the King of Gods off any further. He cringed convincingly as Zeus lifted his arm and sent another thunderbolt across the blue sky. A sound as loud as a thousand horses’ hooves cracked through the white clouds that hung over Olympus. For sure, his uncle gave an impressive show right there on the terrace of his home overlooking the mortal world of Greece.
Better to play the repentant servant to Zeus. There was no way he was getting out of this mess unscathed. Not even his father Poseidon could help him right now—not that Triton wanted to ask the old man for help. All he’d get would be a lecture.
Besides, in his current state Uncle Zeus wouldn’t listen to anyone, least of all his brother.
Whatever punishment Triton was due, however, would be worth it. By the Gods, how Danae’s pale thighs had wrapped around him when he’d pumped into her. Her pink nipples had been erect little peaks topping voluptuous breasts that had bounced up and down, side to side with every thrust he’d delivered. Oh Gods, he’d delivered it to her—several times. She’d screamed her pleasure to the heavens and professed he was a better lover than Zeus, and by the Gods, he’d lapped that compliment up the same way he’d gobbled up the juices that had oozed from her quivering pussy.
She’d milked him so many times, he’d collapsed in her arms, unable to move another limb. And that was exactly how Zeus had found him: in her bed, bare-assed, and with his dick still inside her. Talk about in flagrante. He wasn’t going to smooth-talk himself out of that one.
Triton took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of ambrosia that drifted his way from just inside the palace. He eyed the spectators, who’d gathered around them. It hadn’t taken long for them to assemble—one word to the right person and the news had spread like wildfire. Zeus liked an audience as much as the next God, especially when he was ready to hand out punishment.
“Did you hear me?” Zeus’ voice boomed through the warm air, hitting him like a hurricane sweeping over the sea. Unlike any storm over the world’s oceans, this was one Triton couldn’t calm, not even with his powers as the God of Seafarers and Sailors.
Triton lifted his head to meet his uncle’s glare but was careful not to show his defiance. “Of course, Zeus.”
“Then choose.”
Zeus looked nothing like the mortals depicted him in their books and paintings. He was no old man with a white beard. No, the God of all Gods was a virile man looking no older than thirty-five in mortal years, with a chiseled face as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David and as hard as the granite the famous artist had used. Unfortunately, Triton mused. It made competition for some decent pussy on Olympus darn stiff. Only around women, would Zeus turn on his charm and melt any female right into his perfect body—or under it, which was the preferred position for any woman when around the God.
Again, a blast of air came Triton’s way, threatening to uproot his balance.
Choose? What did Zeus want him to choose between?
He would have done well to listen this once, but his uncle’s tirades could go on for hours, and what was the point of taking any notice when he couldn’t change the outcome anyway? However, this time a sinking feeling spread in his stomach as if he was about to gamble away his life.
“Uh, I …” he stammered.
An angry grunt was Zeus’ reply. “Option one or two. I’m leaving you a choice, but only because my brother has bartered for leniency toward you. Personally, I would crush you with my bare hands. Frankly, boy, I’ve had it with you. Would you like me to remind you of all the things you’ve done?”
Triton’s memory was working just fine. He sure needed no reminder, but he knew better than to anger Zeus while his punishment still hung in the balance.
What would the punishment be this time? A year in Hades for giving it to Zeus’ mistress du-jour? Seemed like a fair exchange, Triton thought. It could be worse. He could be bridled from any sexual activities for a decade—which would suck to say the least. Anything, just not that! He’d never survive it. Not sating his sexual urges for a week bordered on excruciating, a decade would be pure torture.
At least in Hades, he could screw some desperate souls, and the year would pass in delicious debauchery. He could deal with the heat and the stench, and surely, Father’s other brother, Hades, wouldn’t make the stay too uncomfortable for him. As long as Triton kept his hands off Hades’ wife. Now there was a beauty, if there ever was one.
Despite his thoughts, Triton kept his head down and his eyes averted, not willing to piss the King of Gods off any further. He cringed convincingly as Zeus lifted his arm and sent another thunderbolt across the blue sky. A sound as loud as a thousand horses’ hooves cracked through the white clouds that hung over Olympus. For sure, his uncle gave an impressive show right there on the terrace of his home overlooking the mortal world of Greece.
Better to play the repentant servant to Zeus. There was no way he was getting out of this mess unscathed. Not even his father Poseidon could help him right now—not that Triton wanted to ask the old man for help. All he’d get would be a lecture.
Besides, in his current state Uncle Zeus wouldn’t listen to anyone, least of all his brother.
Whatever punishment Triton was due, however, would be worth it. By the Gods, how Danae’s pale thighs had wrapped around him when he’d pumped into her. Her pink nipples had been erect little peaks topping voluptuous breasts that had bounced up and down, side to side with every thrust he’d delivered. Oh Gods, he’d delivered it to her—several times. She’d screamed her pleasure to the heavens and professed he was a better lover than Zeus, and by the Gods, he’d lapped that compliment up the same way he’d gobbled up the juices that had oozed from her quivering pussy.
She’d milked him so many times, he’d collapsed in her arms, unable to move another limb. And that was exactly how Zeus had found him: in her bed, bare-assed, and with his dick still inside her. Talk about in flagrante. He wasn’t going to smooth-talk himself out of that one.
Triton took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of ambrosia that drifted his way from just inside the palace. He eyed the spectators, who’d gathered around them. It hadn’t taken long for them to assemble—one word to the right person and the news had spread like wildfire. Zeus liked an audience as much as the next God, especially when he was ready to hand out punishment.
“Did you hear me?” Zeus’ voice boomed through the warm air, hitting him like a hurricane sweeping over the sea. Unlike any storm over the world’s oceans, this was one Triton couldn’t calm, not even with his powers as the God of Seafarers and Sailors.
Triton lifted his head to meet his uncle’s glare but was careful not to show his defiance. “Of course, Zeus.”
“Then choose.”
Zeus looked nothing like the mortals depicted him in their books and paintings. He was no old man with a white beard. No, the God of all Gods was a virile man looking no older than thirty-five in mortal years, with a chiseled face as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David and as hard as the granite the famous artist had used. Unfortunately, Triton mused. It made competition for some decent pussy on Olympus darn stiff. Only around women, would Zeus turn on his charm and melt any female right into his perfect body—or under it, which was the preferred position for any woman when around the God.
Again, a blast of air came Triton’s way, threatening to uproot his balance.
Choose? What did Zeus want him to choose between?
He would have done well to listen this once, but his uncle’s tirades could go on for hours, and what was the point of taking any notice when he couldn’t change the outcome anyway? However, this time a sinking feeling spread in his stomach as if he was about to gamble away his life.
“Uh, I …” he stammered.
An angry grunt was Zeus’ reply. “Option one or two. I’m leaving you a choice, but only because my brother has bartered for leniency toward you. Personally, I would crush you with my bare hands. Frankly, boy, I’ve had it with you. Would you like me to remind you of all the things you’ve done?”
Triton’s memory was working just fine. He sure needed no reminder, but he knew better than to anger Zeus while his punishment still hung in the balance.
