Greco-Romans, Countrymen and Lovers
By Richel
"I can't believe that today is finally over!"  Cupid threw himself onto the settee in a fit of pique.  "I never understood the full meaning of eternity until I spent six hours listening to long-winded petty bureaucrats debate the relative merits of 2/16 of a drachma increase in the price a bushel of string beans verses a 3/100,453 decrease in the tariff on pheasant balls."

"Oh, stop whining.  You're the one that volunteered to come."  Iphicles crossed
the room and poured them both a glass of wine.

"That's because I thought there was going to be more coming and less talking."  The blond god squirmed against the back of the sofa, still not used to the lack of wings that his disguise called for.  "Tell me again why I had to pretend to be a mortal instead of just watching over you invisibly?"

"Because I'm fucking tired of trying to carry out official business while pretending that I'm not being felt up.  Having the entire delegation watching at least forces you to keep your head above the level of the table."  Iphicles handed him the wine, blushing slightly at the memory of the looks he gotten from King Peleus the time Cupid popped in during one of their meetings.

A hand insinuated itself between his legs.  "Actually, I don't mind if they want to."


A teasing stroke.  "There's nothing wrong with a little love in the–"


A firmer grasp.  "If you shut your eyes–"


Cupid winced and removed his hand.  "Sheesh, all right already. If you don't want
me to make these boring meetings more enjoyable you just have to say so.  I'm only here to make you happy."

"I thought you were here to keep me safe from the treachery and intrigue that is Imperial Rome?"  Iphicles reached across and replaced his hand.

"Actually, I think that Uncle Ares had keeping you safe from the decadence and carnality that is the Imperial Palace in mind when he asked me to come along."

"Ares sent you to protect me from potential sexual predators?  Isn't that a little like the shark worrying about a guppy attack?"
Cupid was highly offended but didn't let that interfere with his explorations. [delete space] "Predator?  Me?  As if!  Uncles Ares sure, but I'm a sweetheart who's only here to keep you safe from those insidious Romans."

"Well, if any of them tries to sneak into my room at night, they'll certainly have to go through you to get to me,"  Iphicles agreed wryly.   He didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted at the mental image of the other delegates scheming to wind up in his bed.  "I don't think that you have anything to worry about though."  He spread his legs to give the god easier access.  "The only one that might prove a temptation isn't likely to be deterred by your presence.  Ares, sure, but I don't think that the conqueror of Gaul is too worried about a god of Love.  He's more likely to..." His voice trailed off as some long-held fantasies drifted across his mind's eye.
Cupid nearly spit out the sip of wine he'd just taken at the lustful expression on Iphicles' face.  "Caesar?!"

Iphicles found himself slightly offended by the incredulous tone of the god's voice.  "What's so strange about that?  You have to admit he's great looking."

"Maybe, if you like the type.  But he has the personality of a Hydonian frost demon.  He's a cold, domineering tight-ass.  Excuse me if I don't see the attraction."  He suddenly found himself being straddled and his glass taken out of his hand.

"But that is the attraction,"  was whispered softly in his ear.  "To trust yourself to a cold, domineering tight-ass."  Each word was punctuated with a kiss along his jaw, while the last one was breathed across his lips.  A quick nip on his bottom lip snapped his eyes open.  "I'm not boring you, am I?"

"No."  Cupid smiled seductively into the waiting brown eyes.  "I'm practically breathless with anticipation."

"Good.  Now where was I?"

"You were explaining the appeal of tight-asses."  That earned him a real kiss, Iphicles' tongue exploring the inside of his mouth before tangling with his own in an intimate duel.  All too soon, the mortal pulled away.

"Ahh, ahh.  We mustn't get ahead of the story."

"I've always liked a good story," Cupid admitted, "but there is something to be said for flipping to the end."

"But getting there is half the fun."  Each word was accompanied by another nuzzling kiss until Iphicles was once again whispering in his ear.  "It's been another long day and he's nearly at the end of his patience with your proposals.  You can hear it in his voice as he snaps out counteroffers but you can't resist making it worse--a few unreasonable demands here and there, an endless debate on minor points.  You know that he's planning to make you pay for it later, but that's the whole point."

"The burning glare you get as the session finally ends lets you know that you're going to get everything that you've been working so hard for but the game demands that you play the innocent.  So you quickly return to [your] chambers to [bathe] for dinner, pretending that you're not waiting for him.  But when you finish dressing and turn around, you're not startled to find him standing right behind you.  Close enough to touch."

That seductive voice whispering in his ear was surprisingly arousing as Iphicles wove his fantasy about another man.  It was like combining all the best elements of seduction and voyeurism.  Having someone make love to you the way that they dreamed about someone else making love to them.

"He reaches out and grabs your wrists."  Strong hands slid down his arms and grasped his hands.  "He uses leather straps to secure you to the torch sconces on the back wall," Cupid allowed his wrists to be stretched out along the back of the sofa, "and a folded shirt for a blindfold."  Feathering kisses encouraged him to shut his eyes and Iphicles slid off his lap to kneel on the floor between his spread legs.

"Waiting in the dark, you have to trust that he won't leave you there, tied and helpless.  You know that he's capable of it.  He is Caesar, after all.  But the rewards are worth the risk.  Even so, you're relieved when you feel him touch you again, his hands trailing over your chest, lingering slightly at each button until he reaches the waistband of your pants."  Once again, Iphicles suited the action to the words.  "A few quick tugs allows the shirt tail to hang free over your hips and the back of his hand presses against your cock as he grabs the bottom of the shirt.  You thrust your hips forward to try and rub against him, but he won't let you and pulls the shirt away from your crotch."

Cupid's disappointed moan was the perfect punctuation for the story.

"You can feel a slight tugging on your shirt but can't really tell what's causing it, until the hard edge of something brushes along your stomach."

Cupid sucked in his breath at the almost/not quite ticklish touch tracing the arrow of hair down the middle of his stomach.

"Another of those tugs accompanies that brush and you realize--he's cutting off the buttons with a knife.  You barely resist the urge to jerk back from the razor sharp instrument because, deep inside, you know that if there is going to be any drawn blood, it will be intentional.  No sooner does that thought cross your mind then you feel the first prick."

The god felt his own urge to jerk away from the tiny blaze of pain, but a warm kiss reassured him that Iphicles had used nothing more threatening than his teeth.  Once Cupid had relaxed back into the couch, the king continued.

"It's nothing serious, only enough to draw a single drop of blood.  Just enough to remind you of the dangers that lurk in playing this particular game."

It seemed to take forever for the last button on his shirt to be undone, the king alternating those teasing bites with kisses and licks.  Each nipple received its share of attention.  Open-mouthed suckling encouraged the buds to harden and then Iphicles used his teeth to tug them lightly away from the skin before soothing them with his tongue.  Cupid groaned in disappointment when the other man pulled away again.

The narrative resumed as he felt his shoes and socks being pulled off.  "He hasn't said a word since this whole thing started.  The silence combines with the darkness to trap you in a world of sensation.  The coldness of the marble behind you, the leather tight around your wrists, the slight stinging from the cuts."

Entirely caught up in the story by this point, Cupid could nearly  believe that he was bound to that wall instead of sitting on a comfortable couch.

"Your cock throbs as he unfastens your pants, the back of his fingers brushing along your length."

Cupid arched his back slightly to make it easier for the man to slide his pants over his hips.  Situations like this were the best excuse for not wearing underwear.  The combination of the content of the story and the fact that it was being delivered with Iphicles' mouth nearly in his crotch made every second count.

"You can hear him move away and you nearly panic.  Being found naked and bound to the wall of your dressing room while supposedly negotiating a treaty with Rome wouldn't be the highlight of your rule.  All your muscles tense to fight your bonds, but you force yourself to relax, to trust.   After a moment, your trust is rewarded as you feel the leather being cut away from your hands.  In return, you keep your hands where they are, voluntarily giving up control to him.  The removal of the blindfold is treated the same way.  Eyes kept closed to continue the game."

"By now you're so hard that the only thing  you can think of is that if you don't come soon, you're going to die.  Well, that and...What did he do with the knife?"

A hard edge tracing the length of his erection drew a strangled curse from Cupid as he nearly jackknifed off the couch only to collapse backwards when Iphicles swallowed him whole.  God, he couldn't believe that Iphicles could take all of him.  The warm wetness of his mouth, the occasional brush of his teeth and the rippling muscles in his throat had him fighting not to come immediately.  Digging his hands into the upholstery, he tried to prolong the exquisite sensation but it was too much.  With a scream that must have alerted everyone in the palace, he exploded into orgasm.

Iphicles greedily swallowed the salty cum until he felt Cupid soften in his mouth.  Regretfully releasing the spent organ, he gave it one final lick before settling himself back in the straddling position that had started this encounter.

"I always come about right there too.  I never get to see how any of the fantasies end,"  he said with mock regret.

As soon as Cupid managed to get his breathing under control, he opened his eyes
to meet the mischievous amber ones watching him.  Unable to resist, Cupid leaned forward and captured the beautiful mortal in a deep kiss, tasting himself in the warm mouth.  The lazy kisses continued until he felt himself recover some control.



He had to agree with the man's judgment.  If the Emperor of Rome was half as talented as the King of Corinth, it might just be worth the attempt.  And even if he wasn't...He'd still be worth putting up with just for the inspiration he provided for Iphicles. That thought brought another to mind.

"Umm, Iphicles?  You mentioned fantasies, as in more than one?"

A slow smile was his answer.  "Humm, the rest of them are a little...kinky, though."

He'd started with imaging himself bound to the wall while Caesar cut his clothes of with a knife and it was the rest of his fantasies that he considered kinky?  Cupid silently thanked his uncle for insisting that he [go] to Rome to protect Iphicles, as he transported them to the bedroom.  It promised to be an interesting a couple of weeks.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers!
hear me for my cause; and be silent,
that you may hear.
     - Julius Caesar, Act 3, sc 2
The End