"Let me get this straight," I quizzed my ditzy visitor suspiciously. "Your brother, Ares, is going to show up and try to seduce me?"
"Exactly, and you must make sure he doesn't succeed," she begged.
"Why?" I asked disinterestedly.
"Because of him, I lost two loyal temple maidens."
"And this will signal the end of the world as we know it?" I inquired. In spite of the pout she flashed me, I still protested, "Dite, I'm still cleaning up from the last time you decided to drop in."
"That is like so last week," she bubbled.
Sighing, I played along, "And what is this bet?"
"He thinks he can seduce any woman; I bet him he couldn't," she stated emphatically.
"Uh, Dite, don't you think it's cheating, trying to rig the outcome?"
"No duh!" she agreed. "There's nothing in the rules about having to play fair," she smiled broadly. "Besides, he is the God of War and I want to win."
"Can't you use someone from your own time?" I asked hopefully.
"Nope! One of the conditions is he has to travel into the future, where the gods aren't worshiped by mankind," she explained.
Shaking my head I chuckled, it's no wonder we don't worship at your temples, Dite; WHERE DO you get your clothes, Bob Mackie's Cher collection?
"Just what makes you think he'll show up here?" I asked. I suspected the answer by the guilty look on her face. "Dite! You promised you weren't going to let it get out."
"I didn't exactly," she hedged. "Apollo found out Artemis and I were here. . ."
"Oh great!" I sighed. I felt like my phone number was on some cosmic bathroom wall. "Ok, what else aren't you telling me? Is he some sort of ogre or something?" I interrogated her further.
"No, he's just an ordinary guy," she giggled. "Maybe a little too dark and serious sometimes. But he's a pussycat deep down."
"Alright, I'll do it." I have no intention of being seduced by a total stranger anyway. "But Dite, this is the LAST TIME! I'm NOT going to run a halfway house for wobegone immortals," I emphasized. "Now please twinkle, sparkle, whatever . . . " She flashed me a puzzled look. "Make like bananas and split."
With a smile she "twinkled" from sight.
How hard can this be? He'll show up; wine and dine me; I'll let him kiss me on the cheek; he'll be happy; Dite will be happy. Piece of cake. Singing softly to myself "War. . . huh. . . what is it good for. . . absolute nothing. . . ." I silently cursed myself for doing that; now I'll never get that damn song out of my head.
Returning from a long satisfying ride on my horse, I headed into the shower to wash the eau de equine from my body.
Just as the shampoo started running down my face, I knew I wasn't the only one in the shower. A swishing noise, coupled with a deeply agitated voice, coming from behind me, really cinched it for me. Didn't this guy's mother teach him any manners?
"I wish to leave this enclosure. I'm wet and I feel squishy." A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed my suspicions. There's a big guy standing in my shower, dressed in black leather. Mindful of my conversation with his sister; he indeed looked dark and serious -- and apparently suffered from a lack of navigational abilities.
"It's usually preferable to take a shower without your clothes. Leather, in particular, doesn't do well in water," I said, stifling a laugh. I slid the glass door open; hoping he would take the hint and get out of the tub. I heard the door close and assumed he was out.
"You're right, it is better without clothes," he murmured in my ear. Now there's a naked, big guy standing in my shower. Stealing another glimpse, I decided he wasn't a pussycat; more like a panther. Those smoldering eyes looked very dangerous. Even his muscles have muscles; what did I get myself into? Now I just had to figure out how to get the God of Hunks or whatever, out of my shower. Uh, Dite, you're lucky you only lost two maidens. . . .
Suddenly, I felt my hair being lifted from my back. I closed my eyes momentarily, giving into the delicious sensations caused by experienced fingers and sensuous lips. With one swift movement he spun me around, flattening my back against the hard tile. His lips began their assault on mine and the kiss soon became much deeper as his tongue began its exploration.
I tried to keep focused as his head began to move lower and lower. His tongue began to circle my nipple and as his mouth captured my breast, the only coherent thought I could manage was "Oh my!!"
Vaguely remembering my ill-advised promise to Dite, I fought for a sane thought. Standing naked in the shower with a strange man; is the formal or informal method of introduction best. I never can remember. -- Okay, so it's not really a sane thought, but it's the best I could do. Willing my eyes open, I reached out for the proper appendage and pumped it several times. This was not the time to get the wrong one. "Hello, how are you? Don't you think you're taking save water, shower with a friend' too seriously?"
Laughter overtook him and mercifully he stopped. Picking up the soap from its dish, he set about helping me finish the shower I'd almost forgotten. Suddenly, the bar of soap squirted from his hands. As he bent down to pick it up, I somehow mustered the strength to pull the door open and leapt from the tub. By the time he realized I was gone, I already had a robe wrapped around me and was starting to dry my hair.
"Woman," he bellowed. "Why did you leave the bath?"
Turning at the sound of his voice, I was greeted by a sight that took my breath away. 'Dite, pay backs are hell. I reluctantly brought my eyes to meet his. "I was finished with my shower."
"Things were just becoming interesting." His voice had softened somewhat and I had to look away. Mumbling "you don't know just how interesting... " I threw him a towel as I left the bathroom.
I was in my bedroom trying to get dressed when he walked in, dry and fully clothed again in his skin-tight leather. "It's going to be hard taking you out in public dressed like that; no pun intended. Those pants
leave very little to the imagination." I can't believe I said that.
He grinned in response, "Why do you have to imagine?" His hand came up and he was just about to snap his fingers . . .
"Noooo!" I stuttered, pulling my robe tighter. "Look, just who died and named you God. . . . uh, scratch that. . . . I think you took a wrong turn somewhere over Gaul." and you really have some Gaul showing up in my shower looking like that. "You appear in my shower unannounced, proceed to manhandle me," I'm sure Miss Manners says something about that "and I'm supposed to just melt into your arms? Hah! You've just been penalized 15 yards for illegal use of hands. See those stairs? They lead to my art studio; use them," I pointed and surprisingly he left. I'm in trouble now . . . I just know it. One of these days the brain will engage . . .
Removing my robe, I donned the clothes I previously set aside. Walking down the stairs, I found him in my studio, looking at several paintings. "I have to get at least two more paintings done by the end of the month for the upcoming show," I volunteered.
He turned from the portrait and stared at me. He ran his tongue over his full lips. "And you say it'll be difficult to take ME out in public . . . "
I shook my head "I only meant that . . . " as my voice trailed off I looked down and was horrified to find I had inadvertently put on a pair of cut off jeans which unfortunately were just a little short for safety's sake. "Sorry. I always paint in these jeans when it's hot." And it's WAY TOO HOT in here. "You're right, I'll just change them . . . " I looked at him apologetically.
A wicked grin came over his handsome face, "By all means, take them off." He snapped those fingers again... I'm going to break those fingers I closed my eyes, not wanting to witness my body's betrayal. Finally, I dared to open my eyes and looked around. Only my shirt was gone; his clothes, however, were still on. Is this good or bad? I refused to let him see my discomfort. Luckily, my long hair more than adequately hid my breasts and I secretly was pleased that he gained nothing with his maneuver.
I waited stoically for his next move. It was similar to playing chess with our eyes. Waiting for his next move, I planned several steps ahead. Hopefully, he won't discover I'm not that good at chess. Rather than dwell on what wasn't happening, I picked up the nearest canvas, set it on the easel and selected my palette of colors. Hearing a soft chuckle behind me, I turned into his devastating smile. "And what are you planning this time?" I asked suspiciously.
"Nothing. I just realized that you'll probably get covered in paint, and have to take another shower."
"What is it with you and water?" I asked.
His eyebrows arched as he mouthed a startled "Me?"
"Look, you gods may lead terribly boring lives, but I wish you wouldn't always look to us mortals as a form of entertainment. I do have work to do." I couldn't even make eye contact with him for fear he wasn't buying any of this. "You, of course, realize your reputation precedes you," I hastily added for emphasis.
Moving closer to me, he gently took my face in his hands, forcing me to look into those deep dark endless pools. "I'm wounded that you would consider my visit to be a way to relieve boredom." The contriteness of his words almost had me convinced. Almost.
My head jerked slightly as an idea began to take root. It would be risky, but with any luck, it would work. "Why don't I paint a portrait of you?" I offered.
His eyes sparkled as the idea sank in. "I think this could prove to be fascinating," he acknowledged as he stroked his beard.
I quickly moved the furniture out of the way and brought in a stool from the kitchen. Positioning him became an Olympic sport as he constantly pulled my face closer to steal kisses; nibble at my neck; or moved my hair back over my shoulders to suckle my breasts. "Are you having fun?" I sighed.
"Something's missing," he pointed out. He was right; there went the remainder of my clothes. I thought this was going to be a quiet little date, a little wining and dining. Oh yeah, forget about that little kiss on the cheek, any cheek. I wished to be somewhere, anywhere else; I looked at him questioningly.
"I needed inspiration," he innocently explained.
"You're the model," I informed him. "Why do you need inspiration?"
"You're right; you are in need of it." He was now standing there in glorious 3-D, Technicolor, and completely naked!
I stood there expressionless, refusing to react. I deserve an Oscar for pretending to ignore perfection. Shaking my head with merriment, "Well, we finally have an answer to the question; it's not a banana." The look of bewilderment was priceless.
Taking advantage of my momentary victory, I decided to put Part B of my plan into effect. After issuing a threat within an inch or five or six; but hey, I wasn't looking of his life, I entered the kitchen. He followed me, which I unfortunately suspected he would. As I was pulling bottles of tequila from the cabinet, his arms wrapped around me and he grabbed my breasts. Acutely aware of his presence behind me, I sought to gain control.
"This is a bit much for a first date, don't you think?" I ventured. "Maybe after the third or fourth. . ."
"Date?" he said questioningly.
"You know, a date: oblong fruit from a palm tree," I chuckled. "Let me get us something to drink," I offered. "You can go back to the studio and wait for me." Surprisingly, he left the room, and I returned a short while later with two very large green drinks. I handed one glass to him; and explained the medicinal powers of margaritas.
After three margaritas I decided this wasn't working as well as I'd hoped. I didn't think I could hold out against his sensory barrage of my body. My lips were swollen from his kisses and my throat was sore from telling to go back to the stool and sit down. 'Dite, how about I'll find you some new maidens. . . please. . .
I stuck with tequila since I'd already learned from him of his unfamiliarity with this particular spirit. I was hoping to be the last one standing. It reminded me of the scene in Indiana Jones; except my opponent wasn't sitting quietly at the other end of the table. I have never wrestled an octopus, but this must be what's it's like. If only he'd behave. . . "Please go back and sit on the stool. . ."
"I will if you sit on my lap," he smirked
". . . yeah, and we'll talk about the first thing that comes up," I finished. Hey, I've been drinking; I've got an excuse.
"That's very gooooood. Now, come sit on my lap," he urged.
"Which is it? Do you want me to cum or sit on your lap?" I dead panned..
"You need to be punisssshhhhed for that one," he stammered; trying to cross the room to where I stood.
"Yeah, you and who's army?" I giggled.
I miscalculated his abilities just a bit; he, in fact, crossed the room, pulled me down to the floor and attempted to wrestle with me. I closed my eyes in frustration, and he kissed my eyelids in response. As he began to push himself up, I looked deeply into his unfathomable eyes and knew I was lost. Suddenly he collapsed on top of me. Not quite sure what to expect, I remained motionless. Several minutes passed before I realized he'd passed out. I gingerly slid out from under his massive frame, hoping I wouldn't wake him. Looking over at him, I realized he didn't look that formidable any more. I brushed back a few stray curls that fell over his eyes, before covering him with a blanket.
With one more look at his handsome face, I walked upstairs to my bed. Sleep was elusive; my mind was going through too many instant replays. The agony at the thought I had to keep that magnificent body at arm's length all day. . . I was, however, finally able to release the breath I was holding at the sight of his engorged cock.
The next morning, coffee in hand, I finally looked at the half-painted canvas. I was debating what to do with the painting when the room began to glow. Not Again!. "Ar...." I had to stop when I saw the pink negligee. . . "Aphrodite! I assume by the smile on your face that you won?"
"I sure did," she glowed. "Ares is really pissed. Not only did he lose, but he has a killer headache."
"I can imagine," I grinned. "He doesn't strike me as the type who likes to lose at anything."
"Thanks again for doing this," Aphrodite grinned. "I knew you could handle it."
"No more puns," I groaned. "By the way Dite, you owe me BIG TIME for this one!" She just couldn't imagine
Giggling, she looked over at the partial portrait and back to me. "Incidentally, I don't know what you did to my big bro, but apparently he's changing his diet, or something. He keeps mumbling something about doing research on bananas, dates and tequila. . . . Ciao!" Hopefully, she didn't see my smile, as she faded from sight.
The God of War was not taken advantage of during the filming of this episode, and no tropical fruits were harmed, with the exception of a few limes.