Falling For The Keeps

08. Sweet Release

Aphrodite

Can girls kiss…girls? I could have asked Hermes to put ten shingles, and ten shingles together and he would still say twenty one or something, and of all the people, him! Why am I always looking for a ride or die in this absurd hell of a world for a mortal realm? I could've tried something else. Maybe if I convinced my father to let me work for the betterment of his sexu- Nevermind. I wasn't going to lecture the best of Olympians on using protection with mortals to prevent one of the many abominations of a demigod, but…To go so long without any release, without a single orgasm, that too to an extent that makes me lust for a mere maiden's lips? Olympus sake! Ridiculous. When was the last time I actually slept after a good ol' O? Fifty…forty. Days. Months. Years? Keeping a track of time wasn't surely one of my strongest abilities. I let out a sigh, staring at the marine blue ceiling, and the luminous glow stars that Hermes put there to make it 'home like'.

Moonlight entered, cutting through the blinds, and I watched it touch the linoleum sheets. My lips parted to say a greeting, wondering how my sister was doing that night. Artemis for one, is my favourite. She is the smarter, sassier and relatively wild spirited, and better twin to her moron, and fiery trouble of a brother, Apollo. I pained to go back to Olympus, party on ambrosia and nectar all day long…Oh Artemis! I mutter, walking away from my queen size bed. My breath hitched, as the full moon stared back at my window. Time flies quickly. Another sigh later, I let my hair loose as thick curls rest on my shoulder. I wonder if Artemis worries about me too…

I remember Artemis' craziest rendezvous. She once, on Apollo's insistence morphed into the skin of a mortal man. She looked so captivating, that her aura had even lured Hestia into a state of desperation. That night, Artemis slipped into the crowd of bathing nymphs, allowing Apollo to jerk off to the scene, as the half naked nymphs watched Artemis disrobe with awe. Everything would have gone well, but Artemis failed to add the phallic charm to her disguise, which started a riot around Olympus. Well, I didn't quite remember the details of what else went wrong when Apollo was detained for eight full moons, and Artemis… Well, she didn't quite try the disguise again. However, that didn't quite stop Hestia from pursuing her. Speaking of which, I still ponder over one long thought- Can girls kiss too?

My face falls, knowing the ambiguity and absurdity of the question. A love goddess in dilemma of her own pleasures… It would make quite a headline for Olympus Weekly. I turn away from the window, wishing no more thoughts of Olympus to resurface. It's crushing to reminisce of a home where your own family had devised a plan to rip you off your power. The only thing closest to what I had for family…for the last hundred of years, was snoring in my living room.

My feet start off on their own, letting the window open for the breeze to enter in. My head arched back, as my eyes retraced the stars back to my bed. I look at the mortal art, and admire the sleek design with its ivory white paint coat. The marine blue of the top, winks at the white linoleum, when I push the sheets to the side. More in desperation than frustration. How many more nights will I spend all by myself? The pale white of electric lamps flicker one. Twice. Thrice. And then, I close my eyes. My head becomes a whirlwind of isolated thoughts. What if I never succeed in my task? It's only fifteen days for the next month…

My knees bend, as I kneel down on the floor. The cold marble makes my toes curl, and I crawl to the carpeted side, wondering if I had simply turned insane. When I reach the hardwood of my closet, the off white wood thuds as I turn over and push my back against it while my feet spread out in the front and I breathe. My chest felt heavy, as I let air fill my lungs. It's hot. It's hell. I arch my back against the hardwood, my line of sight captures the hint of orange walls, a messed up bed, a portrait of mine, and back to the stars in their ultramarine sky.

"You want me to help you put that on? People are staring," I recall the sweet timbre to Dawn's voice, and as an immediate reaction,my lips chuckle and my arms relax. Would I let her help me put that on? I close my eyes, my mind painting a picture of her blue eyes, deeper than the Great Oceans, deeper than the night and far more beautiful than any pair of eyes I have seen this far. The vivacious portrait of her breathes life to my otherwise numbing skin. I exhale, as my stomach ties into knots, and in the most elaborate painting of her wheatish face, I fixate on her lips. The textures that weave into the seemingly soft expanse of red. I think of them, and I moan.

My fingers move swiftly to the bronze pin over my shoulder. I press against it as it comes undone, and the fabric flies open. The weight of my bare front, gravitates lower with a bounce as my lips let a chuckle escape, and my exposed front lays desperate with anticipation. My hands move quickly, to untie the waist belt, as the fabric unfurls around my body and I, my eyes shut tighter, my imagination intact, run my fingers from between my toes and then move north.

I dabble, as I stretch, leaving a trail as my fingers move from my knee to the insides of my thigh. My other hand holds the captive nipple of my right breast. One stroke. Two strokes. Three strokes straight, I feel the points tighten, and gulp the truth down. I move from right to left, pinching the skin that leaves me warm and needy and my core tightens.

"Dawn," I called her name, and her lips, the very source of my pleasure, curved up and then opened in her well drawn portrait. I reckoned them. My left hand, fondling my front gently while my right waltzes smoothly down. I beg her with my eyes,and her lips… they smile. And smile. I tug gently on the wilderness between my thighs, before pleasure creek runs down my core. Wet. And warm. My insides feel deranged, warm and desperate for a touch.

I let my forefinger explore the borders of my petals, and moan when it pressed against my clitoris. The knots in my stomach tightened, and the remnants of shame I had melted with the thoughts of her lips down here. I move my fingers against the clit, circling it with ease, and pressing it to let the pleasure take over. The blood in my veins courses faster through my head, as my ears hear the growing flow, and my fingers set a rhythm to the building pleasure.

"Dawn!" I repeat the gospel, as my fingers are colored with my own desires. I let them tease me longer, rubbing it seamlessly around the edges as I feel the pleasure coursing from my core to my entire being.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I let my index finger pair up with my fore finger, diving deep, as they searched for the entrance. They run against it, pursuing it to bloom and when it does, like bees allured to the scent of nectar, they enter. They push in deeper, and deeper, and I gasp as my body shivers with pain and pleasure. Dawn… I think of her tongue, coursing in with frivolous laps. Just like that. As she licks them, sucks on them and rolls her eyes. I run my fingers through her hair, holding in her place, as I ride my high around her mouth.

"Dawn! Ahh!" I moaned as my back arched harder, and my shoulders slumped periodically while my breath felt like an unhinged symphony, following the tone set to my pleasure.

"Don't leave me at that, Dawn. Baby please," I picture her head falling back, as my pleasure coats on her lips and she runs her tongue across it.

"Never, my Goddess," She mumbles, her hair falling to a side, as I let my own senses sink in.

My eyes blink open as I absorb the reality…The climax hits me hard as my thighs close around my fingers, and I lay immersed in the trance of my own pleasure. Dawn…The sweet release washes down on me, as I realise the inevitable… I was lusting after Dawn. Whoever she was, I wanted her between my thighs.