Aphrodite's Choice

Chapter 47 – Lovers’ Rapture

Below the waist, Hephaestus’ robe looked like one of those huge tents that the gods used for parties outside their castles. It was as if there was a tiny pole supporting it, creating a bulge that resembled the said tent. Being no maiden, Aphrodite was pretty sure what it was. She swore she could smell something: something musky, yet pleasant; something manly and exciting.

Nodding her chin towards the general direction of the protrusion, the goddess of love said, “This.”

“What?” He replied, confused.

“Take it out.”

The god of fire stood silently, as if giving her order a great deal of thought. Finally, he said, “This won’t satisfy you,” much to his wife’s dissatisfaction. Aphrodite was certain she never complained about any aspect of making love with him before. There was no reason to, after all. Even if she had, she was certainly asking for it now. So, why the hesitation, she thought testily.

Craning her neck forward, the goddess of love bit on part of the loose fabric below Hephaestus’ waist. She tugged it to the side, revealing her husband’s stiff, throbbing manhood. He cried out for her to desist, but there was no stopping now. Aphrodite opened her mouth and tried to gobble it whole, nearly choking in the process.

Her husband gasped, uttering garbled words in protest, as her tongue played all over his head while half of this shaft was inside her mouth. She felt herself go moist between her thighs as she savoured the saltiness on her lips and tongue, and the aroma flooding her nostrils.

Aphrodite made her whole mouth run up and down the length of his rod. “Stop! Spit it out,” he said, every word punctuated by Hephaestus’ lustful panting. The goddess of love kept going, sensing that she had discovered a weak spot of her husband. Unexpectedly, he grabbed her face with both hands and pushed it away from his manhood. She grunted in frustration.

“Did you do this for him?” the god of fire said, his eyes staring at her with a burning intensity.

Hephaestus repeated the question, mistaking Aphrodite’s silence as the result of not having heard or understood him. But the goddess of love both heard and comprehended. Her silence was the result of her inwardly laughing at the ridiculousness of the question and the logic behind it. After all, she was never fond of being the “giver” in bed as she always preferred to be on the receiving end. Why would she make an exception for, of all the beings in the universe, Ares?

But more importantly, it was all just a rumour. One that Aphrodite hatched to have her husband come running back in jealousy. She concluded that he still must have not figured out the truth. The thought made her grin. As if to assuage Hephaestus’ wounded pride, she began nibbling at one of his fingers which was still pressing against her face.

But he would not be dissuaded. In a gravelly tone, he called out her name. But his wife would not be stopped. Aphrodite began licking his finger, teasing what she could do to something else of Hephaestus which was similarly long and hard. “Do you like it? Am I good at it? It’s my first time taking a man inside my mouth,” she said with a grin.

“What?”

“I haven’t done this to anyone before.”

“So, why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to.”

Seeing that her husband was still looking at her skeptically, she said, “What I’m saying is that if it weren’t yours, I wouldn’t put it in my precious mouth! So, quit your whining and let me have it.”

Wordlessly, Hephaestus took a step away. Aphrodite was about to groan in frustration when she felt his calloused hands and strong arms lift her as if she was made of nothing but feathers. She was effortlessly dropped on the bed and without so much as a warning, the god of fire clenched her butt cheeks apart and then speared his iron-like rod in between her.

The goddess of love wanted to scream but instead, she bit hard the pillow in front of her. Just as the initial wave of pain began to fade away, giving way to a mix of both hurt and pleasure, Hephaestus began to thrust. Not hurriedly, as if he was in a race against an invisible opponent, but deliberately. Each penetration was done as if there was some thought put into it. And the thought was to get as deep as possible. Aphrodite clenched the bed with both hands and let out a muffled scream.

Hephaestus began to gradually hasten the pace while continuing to thrust so deep his wife swore she could feel it near her belly. The rhythmic slapping of his navel against her buttocks was music to her ears, making her heat up between the legs. Aphrodite wanted to grab on to his thighs to control his pace and penetration but her movement was checked by the cuffs tying her wrists. The god of fire noticed this and grinned wolfishly.

Not one to back down from a challenge, the goddess of love began to thrust her hips backward in sync with every push of her husband inside her. In response, Hephaestus clasped her waist to help her motions. The additional sensation made her scream again, but this time, it was unhindered by the pillow as she stopped biting it.

She felt drops of warm liquid beginning to fall on her back. Aphrodite couldn’t turn her head all the way so she wasn’t sure, but she felt that it was her husband sweating. The thought of it felt sexy so she cried out, “That’s so good! Deeper! Even deeper!”