Till I Can Make it Through the Night
Ares materialized a short way from the Inn where he was to meet his sometimes lover, wearing leather pants, a cotton shirt, and a dark cape. He'd already changed his appearance slightly so as not to be recognized, but he spread out his senses nevertheless. He couldn't risk being followed. If any of his brothers or sisters knew about these rendezvous, he would never hear the end of it.
Satisfied he was alone, he made his way into the inn. The first thing that hit him was the noise. He could barely hear himself think as wave upon wave of boisterous laughter hit him. He sought out the bar where he knew his lover stood, as he usually did, waiting for him.
Ares leaned against the bar next to where the man was drinking his ale. "Hey kid."
"Hey Arry. You should really try the ale tonight. It's not mouldy like last time."
Ares held back a laugh as he remembered his lover's reaction to drinking that drink the last time they'd met. "No thanks. You got the room?"
"Good. We'll head up once you're done your drink."
The man continued sipping at a leisurely pace, allowing Ares a chance to observe the room around him. The tables were filled with men, talking loudly and waving mugs of ale in time to their stories, while wenches and whores plied them with drink and company. His eyes settled on the room's most interesting feature — a sort of indoor waterfall set into the end of the bar that, instead of water, produced more of the ale that was carried in every mug in the room.
Ares heard a soft slamming sound followed by his lover thanking the bartender. He turned his head and his eyes met those of the man he was to spend his night with. A nod was exchanged and they immediately headed up the lone stairwell for their room.
The moment the door was shut, Ares shoved his lover up against the hard wood, capturing the man's lips in a savage kiss. He broke away when he felt his lover's need for air build up within him.
Ares' lover immediately reached out, undoing the clasp of his cape so that it lay pooled around their feet. The cotton shirt was soon to follow, and the man began undoing the ties to the leather pants. It didn't take the man long to rid Ares of the pants and boots, his hands having had much practice.
Finally nude, Ares moved to sit on the room's lone bed. "Strip." He sat back, watching his lover slowly remove each piece of clothing. Once, a time that seemed all too long ago, this man would simply rush through this process. However, Ares had taught him better. He loved watching his lovers put on a small performance for his benefit.
The man's clothes were soon pooled with Ares' own and the man simply stood, his cock hot and hard, waiting for instructions from his lover. Ares' cock was as hard as his lover's. It had been too long since they'd been together, and he knew this wouldn't last long. It never did when they spent too much time apart. They both needed this too much.
Ares lay down on his back and motioned his lover forward. "Suck my cock."
The man forced back the urge to jump onto the bed, instead crawling up and over his lover. He took Ares' cock in his mouth until it hit the back of his throat, keeping it there until he heard Ares' moan. He then pulled his lips back until they were just barely touching the head. He ran his tongue along the slit, then released the cock. He then began running his tongue up and down the shaft, stroking it until a hand wrapped in his hair and pulled him up.
"Fuck this! I need you now!"
The man nodded and rose from the bed, headed for where the innkeeper usually kept an assortment of oils and lotions for guests to use. Meanwhile, Ares stretched out his muscles and rolled onto his stomach. Once the man had made a selection, he returned to the bed and straddled Ares' hips. Ares only grew more frustrated as he felt a drop of oil land on his back, smoothed over by soft hand.
"I said now."
"I know, but you're just so tense."
"I am, but this isn't going to help. There's just one thing I need right now."
Ares could feel his lover nod — he tended to express himself with his entire body. Ares had to stop himself from squirming in anticipation as he felt some of the oil fall on his ass, running along the skin and down between the cheeks. He felt his lover's fingers smoothing it along his skin, finally pressing gently against the entrance to Ares' body.
"Stick them in — now!" In response, Ares felt the man push two oily fingers inside him. With a little wiggling, the man's fingers finally brushed against that one spot inside Ares, the one that produced such glorious sensations, reminding the God why he met up with this lover from time to time.
"Enough." The fingers stopped moving and were withdrawn immediately. "I'm ready. Now, fuck me!"
Ares' lover moved up onto his knees, placing himself at the God's entrance.
"I said now!"
With one swift push, the man was fully in Ares' beautiful ass. He began moving, using the strokes he knew would bring his lover the most pleasure. Yet nary a stroke was made that wasn't followed by a comment or command. "Harder. Faster. You can do better than that! That's it!"
Soon, Ares was writhing below as his lover panted above him. Finally, blissfully, he felt his lover's cock hit that one spot one more time, and he came with a howl. His ass tightened around his lover's cock, pulling the man over with him.
The man collapsed on top of Ares, his body limp and almost lifeless as he fell asleep still in his lover. Ares softly rolled them onto their sides, smiling at the mortal's limited stamina. He moved until the man's cock slipped from his ass, then turned over.
He fought the urge to brush the hair out of the man's face. He knew this compassion he felt whenever he lie here next to this man was dangerous, yet he couldn't stay away. They both needed so much from each other. Ares needed a man who could indulge in this one whim of his without needing to take his control away. His lover simply needed someone who could care for him, if only for a night.
And they both needed to temporarily forget about the unattainable objects of their affections.
Ares lay back, thinking of how his family would laugh if they were to find out he enjoyed being fucked by a man. They were such idiots. They couldn't see that it wasn't who was fucking whom that mattered, but the pleasure that came of it. That and the control.
He looked over at his lover again and smiled, thanking Fortuna's bounty that the best lay in Greece also happened to be its most pathological liar. Well, maybe not pathological, but certainly one of its most notorious storytellers. It wasn't as if the man knew who he really was anyway, but if he ever found out, no one would believe him should he ever tell.
"Goodnight Joxer. You dream of your blonde, and I'll dream of mine."