The Art of Love

His strength aroused the king, reminding him of another dark god.   Not that the other Ares ever left his thoughts.  He'd only let the god of love seduce him because of the resemblance, and hadn't stopped pretending that the beautiful figure tormenting him with tongue and fingers was his violent counterpart.  Not that the war god ever licked his cock for an eternity, like this one did.  Like this one was doing now: wrapping his velvety tongue around the swollen, almost tender head, while his long fingers caressed Iphicles' inner thighs.  "Oh god....Oh god."

His other lover didn't make every muscle in his body quiver until he couldn't stop shaking...Never teased him like this one did, stopping the precise second before semen flowed.  The god before him was like a perfectly trained, perfectly beautiful whore--except that he loved to give pleasure.  This Ares seemed to purr as he sucked the king, rubbing his own huge erection against the silk sheets, reaching up to pinch Iphicles' nipples as though licking his cock wasn't enough--he wanted more. He'd never had a lover like this one: so enthusiastic, so giving, and so strong at the same time.  This Ares combined domination and submission in a way that drove Iphicles crazy.  His sweat-soaked, writhing limbs proved the god's powerful effect.

 This image was created exclusively for me by WorstWitch using pics from Atropos,
and is not to be reproduced.

Back to the gallery

Do not reproduce this image without permission.