By Taleina
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I finally found him sitting alone at a table in the arbor. His strong face was pensive in the torchlight, the flames gilding his skin and turning his eyes to a clear gray. He turned to me as I approached him with my basket of grapes and ewer of last year's wine.
"Hercules," I said softly, "you are not joining the celebration."
"No— but I am enjoying the festival. I seldom join in celebrations of the gods," he explained with a rueful smile.
I nodded in understanding. How difficult it must be to be the son of the god Zeus. And to be so thoroughly hated by the goddess Hera. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I told him, "You can be at ease here – Hera holds no power in our land. But we do ask that all visitors to our festival partake of our grapes – either as wine or by joining in the grape game."
"Grape game?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes," I said, sitting on the table in front of him and holding out the bunch of grapes I had brought with me. "I feed you grapes and you feed me grapes."
"That is a game?" he laughed.
"Well, the game goes this way – you must eat the grape from wherever I am holding it – and you must take it with your mouth, not your hands."
"Ah – I see. Well, if it is a custom of your land, and I have already accepted your hospitality, I suppose I should play your game," he said with a smile.
"It is a very simple game," I said, plucking off a single grape and holding it out to him. He took the grape gently from my fingers and chewed.
"No seeds!" he said in surprise. "How do you do that?"
I laughed – "These are from very old vines – as old as our land. Long ago this land was sacred to the old Goddess, and she is present still in the vines. In old times, this festival was dedicated to her, but now we call on the name of Bacchus to bless the festival." I paused as he took a grape from the bunch and held it out to me. I leaned forward a little and delicately took the fruit from his fingers, slightly brushing them with the soft moistness of my lips. "We ask Bacchus to bless the festival, but we still ask the Goddess to bless the vines."
He looked puzzled. "That still does not explain how you can have fruit without seeds."
I plucked another smooth round grape and held it out, but not as far as I had held the previous one. He leaned a little closer and took the grape in his teeth, grazing my fingers.
Our eyes met, and I smiled. "The Goddess has her mysteries. Your turn."
He reached for the bowl holding the grapes, which I had slid just a little farther away from him. Holding the bunch in one strong hand, he gently pulled another grape from it. He held it out and I took it from his fingers, once again brushing them with my inner lip, this time lingering just a bit longer as I took it, and holding his eyes with mine.
Without breaking our glance, I reached for another grape and held this on mere inches in front of me, so that he would have to lean even closer to take it. He reached for my hand, to pull it to him, and I gently scolded, "No, you can only use your hands to feed me, not to be fed. You must obey the rules of the game."
Smiling, and still looking deeply into my eyes, he leaned forward and took the grape gently with his teeth, his lips making no contact with my fingers this time. Slowly and speculatively, he chewed the grape, its sweetness bursting in his mouth. Without another word, he reached for another grape and held it for me – this time much closer to his muscular chest.
I leaned forward, and took the fruit from his hand as before, my breath lightly brushing the light curls at the top of his soft leather vest. I held the grape between my teeth briefly before closing my lips over it and eating it. "Would you like some of our wine? " I asked. "It is known all over Greece for its qualities."
"And what qualities are those?"
"It is know for having the sweetness of a woman's laugh," I explained, picking another grape from the bunch, "and the depth of a man's passion." His eyes began to look blue in the flickering torchlight from the festival. I held the grape in the flat of my hand, just in front of my breasts. With a slight, knowing smile, he leaned his head forward and carefully took the fruit from my hand, his tender lips grazing my skin, and his head brushing against the bodice of my ceremonial robe.
"Besides," I continued, as thought nothing had just happened, "there is another rule of the festival. All of last year's wine must be consumed by the end of the night." I turned away from his knowing gaze and poured two cups of the wine. He took the cup I offered him, his hand briefly covering mine as I passed the cup.
"This festival has many rules," me commented as he looked into the cup. I raised my cup to him, and he returned my salute. I drank deeply of the rich, sweet wine, as did he. He smiled in appreciation. "This is the finest wine I have ever tasted. The fame of its qualities is certainly not exaggerated."
Smiling into his eyes, I replied, "I believe it is your turn."
Taking another sip of his wine, he reached out for another grape, and held this one even closer to his chest than he had before. I leaned forward and felt the warmth of his skin as I took the grape and his fingers into my mouth. Looking up into his eyes, I slowly slid my lips back along his fingers, and took the grape into my mouth.
He drank once again from his winecup. His voice was lower and softer as he said, "Now it is your turn."
I drank once again too. Then taking another succulent grape from the bunch, I held it up and looked at it, then looked at him. Slowly I moved the grape and placed it against the skin between my breasts. His eyes followed the grape's path to its home between the mounds of my breasts. With a soft smile, he leaned to me and tilted his head, his cleft chin against on breast, and his nose against the softness of the other. I felt his lips warm and moist against the sensitive place between my breasts, and felt his breath on me. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. His hands were at my waist as when he eventually pulled back his head and ate the grape. His eyes were locked on mine, their color suddenly intensely blue.
For many moments we remained as we were, still as statues. I could see that many things were running through his mind. He moved his hand from my waist and picked up his winecup. Drinking deeply, he looked into my eyes over the cup's rim. As he swallowed the rest of the wine, he seemed to make a decision.
His one hand was still warm through the thin ceremonial robe as he set down the winecup and plucked yet another grape. His eyes never left mine as he slowly lifted the grape and put it between his teeth, then placed his hand back on my waist. The meaning and challenge of his action was unmistakable. I smiled with satisfaction. The wine had once again performed its magic. Looking boldly back into his eyes, I leaned toward him and placed my lips against his, tilting my head slightly. His breath was warm and sweetly scented by the wine. Instead of using my lips to take the grape, I brushed his lips with my tongue to bring the fruit to my mouth. His groan was low, but deep. I pushed my lips against his more fully and returned the grape to his mouth with my tongue. His hands moved from my waist to my back and pulled me closer to him. The grape made its way back and forth as we explored each other's kisses.
More and more firmly he pressed against me, his strong arms holding me to him. I tangled my hands in his long soft hair as he released mine from its ceremonial wreath. His hands cradled my head, and I could feel the hard sleekness of his heroic body against the length of mine. Our kisses became more impassioned, and it was many moments later that we both paused for breath.
When we opened our eyes from our explorations, all the torches from the ceremony had been extinguished. It was dark in the arbor. But our gazes remained joined as thoroughly as our mouths had been. His hands were roaming over my body, gently but firmly caressing it beneath the thin smooth cloth of the robe. His thumbs ran over my breasts, pausing at the hardness of my nipples. He slid his palms across my taut nipples, making small circles, and causing me to echo his earlier groan of pleasure. I broke the lock of his eyes, and placed my cheek against his chiseled chest as he continued to stroke my breasts. I reached behind him and pressed against his back, slowly discovering its contours and the size and shape of its muscles. I reached his waist, and felt the slow rise from there to his sculpted buttocks. My hands slid down that elegant slope, pausing to explore the muscular depressions at its sides. Finally I reached under the unyielding curve of him, and cupped the heavy muscles in my palms. Once again he groaned softly. His hands echoed mine, as he cupped my buttocks and held me tightly against him, emphasizing the size and strength of his manhood.
It was all I could do to pull away from his embrace. The look of hurt surprise in his eyes forced me to smile and touch his face. He reached up and put his hand over mine, a question in his glance. "Come with me," I said, taking his hand and leading this tall legendary hero like a small child, out of the arbor and toward the vineyard, shining in the moonlight. I led him gently to the place I had picked out. It was between two rows of the ancient vines, and close enough to the stream to hear its soft murmuring. The sound of the stream echoed the murmurs and sighs from the vineyard. I sat on the soft cushion of the grass between the rows of vines, and pulled him down to me. He offered no resistance and sat beside me in the cool scent of the grapes and the grass and the water.
I reached behind his head and pulled him to me, guiding his mouth once again to mine. As we kissed, he lowered me until I was lying on the grass, with him beside me. The vines made leafy walls around us, and the moon was directly overhead. Taking his head in my hands, I gently pushed his mouth from mine. As he leaned away from me, I pulled the ribbon holding the robe, and it easily slipped off, as it was meant to. The moonlight painted my body with silver. His eyes gleamed bright blue as he realized what I had done.
Sitting up, I reached my hand inside his vest, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin over the solid bulk of his muscles. His eyes closed in pleasure as I pulled his vest out of his leather pants and off of him. I ran my hands appreciatively over the firm mounds of his chest, and through the soft curls that grew there. My fingers followed the curling hair as it made a trail down his concave stomach and past his navel, where a dark line of it disappeared below his belt. With a low growl he stood and quickly dispensed with the rest of his clothing.
Looking up from the ground at him, my eyes widened. I purred, "Well, I guess now I know just which half of you is a god." His manhood was as large and strong as the rest of him. It rose proud and heroic from its nest of dark curls. The moonlight silvered it, making it look like a magnificent sword, one made for a king. His smile was proud and shy at the same time. I reached up and pulled him back to me by the hand. As he returned to the grassy bed, I held his hand against my breast, and felt the nipple harden against his palm. I palmed his nipples and felt an echoing response.
Slowly we discovered each other's moonlit bodies. His large hands caressed and stroked and aroused me as he found all my sensitive places. And I delighted in tracing the strength and power of each muscle, firm under his smooth and warm skin. I ran my heels up and down his powerful legs. We each arched our backs again and again with the pleasure we shared with one another. Slowly our hands made their way down the length of the other's body, until they arrived at the core of our desire.
As we kissed deeply, lying side by side, I slid my leg over his slender powerful hip, opening myself to him. His hand moved down my stomach and into the thatch of curls between my thighs. I could not contain a moan as his gentle hand cupped my most sensitive area. He wrapped his other arm around me and held me as he explored. Each discovery he made drove me closer and closer to ecstasy. Gently and firmly he stroked everything I needed to have stroked, making my passion rise to heights I had never imagined, finding pleasures I had never found before.
As I trembled from the thrill of his touch, I was lost in a tide of warmth and color and light, which washed over me again and again. When I could trust myself to breathe again, I opened my eyes and looked into his, which were amused and proud, and hungry. A smile crept over my face. I realized I had just been treated to the ecstasy of the gods. And I had the power to return to him the intense pleasure he had just given me. I set about my task with delight.
He smiled and once again held my eyes with his as I rolled him over, his back against the soft green grass, and the moon reflecting on the fine film of sweat on his powerful chest. I smiled back and straddled his slim waist with my knees. My hair fell forward, lightly brushing his chest, and his nipples hardened again at its touch. As lightly as my hair had touched him, my fingers traced the curves of his muscular chest, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. I was amused at the depth of his reactions, and at his deep sigh.
"You like that?" I murmured.
"Mmmmmmm—you could say that," he replied.
As I explored of his body, I was touched to see the scars of all the battles he had fought. I gently kissed each scar as I came to it, and ran a healing finger over it. The Goddess gives her servants special powers on her festival night, and this was one of them. He must have felt the tingle of healing, for he lay back, totally relaxed and allowed my ministrations. I must confess that I had more than healing on my mind as I stroked and caressed and kissed my way down the length of his body. Its perfection entranced me. He was so powerful, yet that power was harnessed so well; his touch was so gentle. I knew I must find a way to unleash the passion that must also live in him, too strong to be allowed freedom.
Looking for the signs of his wounds, I also looked for the tender places that would evoke the most response from him. Nibbles at the side of his waist made him sensuously stretch. Long slow licks along the hollows near his hipbones caused his back to arch. My breath in his navel brought a twitch of his muscles and a low groan. I had been slowly working my way down his body, and now I dragged my hair across the burgeoning manhood between his thighs. His groans grew louder and lower.
I let my hair tangle with the curls of his groin, as my mouth and fingers continued their journey. The muscles of his legs were as firm and supple as those of the great wild cats, which lived in the mountains surrounding the valley. And I lapped at them with my tongue as a cat laps her fur. My warm mouth and caressing hands found and became familiar each tendon and ligament, each muscle and joint down one leg and back up the other. He had relaxed by now, completely limp except for one important muscle. And that was the muscle I now bent my attention to. Lifting my head from his firm thigh, I breathed warmly on his magnificent manhood. His deep groans took on a different tone. With the tip of my tongue I traced the veins going down the length of his phallus. He caught his breath as I made my way to its base. My hands cupped his heavy testicles, caressing each precious egg in turn, as his back once again began to arch, raising his buttocks off the grass. Smiling at his reaction, I lightly scratched the exquisitely sensitive area behind his testicles.
"Aaahhhhh", he moaned in a strangled voice.
No longer relaxed, his muscles tensed with pleasure. I slipped my mouth over one of his testicles, and his breath stopped for a moment. I gently bounced it with my tongue, then moved over to give equal attention to its twin. Then I let it go and blew on the moisture I had left there. The change in temperature caught him just as he began to breathe again, stopping him mid-breath. His hands tangled in my hair as I moved on to the one muscle that had been consuming my thoughts since I first saw it standing proud in the moonlight.
This time I was through with teasing. I lowered my mouth over as much of it as I could, and tightened my lips around it. His hands gripped the back of my head as I dragged my tongue from one side to the other. His hips rose and slid more of him into my mouth, as he kept muttering, "Oh, Oh, Oh……"
I knew he was close to climax. Taking my hands from his heavy sac of treasure, I loosened his grip on my head and drew my mouth from him. "Oh, oh, oh no, my young god. I am not done with you yet." He was breathing much too hard and fast to reply. I held his hard, slick penis in my hand as I slowly slid my body up his, dragging my nipples across the rough texture of the hair of his skin. His hands could not leave me now, holding me firmly against him. I rose until my mouth met his and was consumed by the passion and the need in his kisses.
"Taleina, oh, Taleina," he murmured my name desperately as we kissed, his hands cradling my face. I broke away from his kiss with difficulty, and it was my turn to gasp for air. I still grasped his throbbing phallus in my hand, and now I used it to stimulate myself, rubbing its silken tip against the wet lips of my desire. I raised my head to look in his eyes as I slid myself onto him. They were as blue as precious sapphires – and almost black with passion, before they closed in pleasure. I began to rock myself slowly back and forth, his hands on my waist, almost completely encircling it. The power of his desire soon overtook him, and his hips pounded into the ground and rose rhythmically. I grasped him with my thighs, and rode him like the stallion he was.
I was startled when he groaned loudly and suddenly flipped me over onto my back, still connected and still throbbing. I had feared that he would crush me in this position, but he held his immense power magnificently in check. I was overcome with the sensation of his muscular chest brushing against my breasts. He slowed his rhythm so we could both catch our breath.
Slowly and fully he entered and retreated from the warm embrace between my thighs. I shuddered with ecstasy as the pace of his thrusts increased. His noble face showed the extent of his arousal, and his sweat dripped down to mingle with mine. Now it was my hips pounding the ground and rising to meet his passion. We moved in unison, and with urgency as we both neared our limits of consciousness, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
The waves of pleasure crested over me as he cried out with ecstasy. My cries joined his and we both rode the swells of passion and eventually were brought back to shore. Through dreamy eyes I saw that he was carefully holding himself over me, resting the bulk of his weight on his elbows. I moved one of my legs from his waist and used it to roll us both over again, allowing me to look down into his drained and totally relaxed face. Our sweaty and sated bodies were still joined and in full contact with each other, as if they were memorizing each curve and hollow. Pushing my hair from around my face, he looked into my eyes and spoke to my soul. Were it not for the power of the Goddess' training, I would have stayed with him as long as our lives lasted. It took every bit of strength I possessed to reach out for the gown I had abandoned so recently and so eagerly.
Staring into his sapphire eyes, I willed him to know that I was not leaving by choice. I draped the gossamer gown over his face. As the Goddess intended, it put him instantly to sleep. It took me several long moments to gather strength enough to separate myself from him. My tears had streaked my face and joined the sweat on his chest before I managed to leave him.
My sisters were waiting, as expected, in the grotto of the Goddess. Usually the spring flowed out of the grotto to water the vineyards, but for the festival, the caretakers block the outlet, and the warm water forms the pool where we are to meet after the festival night. One by one we arrived, gown-less and sated, to relax in the soothing water, letting the precious seed of the many men attending the festival mingle with the outpouring of the Goddess. Tomorrow, after the caretakers had escorted the men from the valley, the water would be released, and the seed from these chosen men soak into the sacred ground, and from there into the vines.
This time I did not join in the murmurs and giggles. My heart had been left behind, out in the vineyard with that magnificent man. I knew what he would find in the morning light. He would be alone between the rows of vines, his clothing gone, nothing to cover himself with but the leaves and grapes. If he picked the grapes, he would be drawn back next year, back to the festival and the grapes – and me.
-- End --