If Great Authors Wrote Porn #02

Sing, Goddess, the wrath of Achilles son of Peleus, and the strength of his virile member, that brought countless ills upon the Greeks. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, but many a maiden did it send in ecstasy to the heights of Aphrodite's altar. The counsels of Zeus against the ships which lay on the shore of Ilium were fulfilled from the day on which Agamemnon and great Achilles fell out over the flesh of a maiden.

All day the heroes fought on the windy plain of Ilium, and the gods chose on this day to give the Greeks the field. Hera and Artemis favored Agamemnon's warriors and drove the Trojans back behind their high strong walls. Rich was the looting then, and weapons, armour and gold enriched the ships drawn up on the shore.

Drenched in the sweat and blood of mighty combat, the heroes came where the maidens taken as prizes in the battle were penned together, weeping in their bonds. Leader of the army, mighty king and general Agamemnon chose first and pulled crying from her friends the glorious Chryseis, beauteous maiden of golden hair, rounded tits and firm ass.

He led his choice to his tent from the slave pen, and there Zeus had inspired him to deal harshly with the maid. Around her neck he tied a rope of soft lamb's wool, and fastening it to his tent pole, he pulled it tight to bind her to his will. The girl cried and begged him to release her in the name of Phoebus Apollo but with no avail as the lust of Agamemnon rose within him. From her shaking body, he ripped the gown she wore, and she was tied before him in her nakedness, looking as Aphrodite did when she first rose all unclothed from the foam of the sea. The mighty King saw before him a soft slim body, a beautiful face like to that of Helen herself, golden hair flowing over her white shoulders, and a round soft pair of boobs of exceeding glory. At their tips were tiny flowers of glowing pink, calling to a man's lips.

Below her boobs was a white belly which flowed down into the soft bed of light golden hair over her mound, and below that glinted the soft lips of a most delightful pussy. Agamemnon's eyes roved over her trembling body, as his warriors had roamed over the field below the high reaching walls of Troy. As the deeds of his heroes made the soldiers on the walls shake with fear, so his glaring eyes sent fear into the crying girl.

He rushed upon her as his troops had rushed upon the enemy on the plain of Ares. As Greek soldiers had surrounded the redoubts, his harsh hands surrounded her soft boobs and ground them into her chest. As great Ulysses had seized the banners atop the walls, he seized her delicate nipples and forced them to his lips. As mighty Ajax had penetrated into the midst of the enemy ranks, his fingers penetrated into the depths of her pussy. As Trojan warriors, bold but unlucky in battle, had gasped their last in pools of blood, so the girl gasped as he probed her more and more deeply.

Now sprang forth the great King's royal cock, as the mightiest of the Greeks had sprung forth to challenge the Trojans. As great Achilles had thrust himself into the battle, Agamemnon thrust that cock into the slave's pussy. Though she cried as the women of Troy had cried when they washed their men's deathwounds, the King had no mercy and forced forward. As he finally pulled her down hard on his shaking hips and forced his virile juices into her he roared with lust and power, and the guards outside his tent shivered at the noise.

Of the weeping women in the slave pen, the other heroic warriors also claimed prizes. The dice were cast, and Aphrodite gave to Achilles her gift of luck so that he had the next choice. Looking over the crying maidens, he saw that the beauty of Briseis was greater even than the prize that went to the son of Atreus.

This woman had been favored by all the great ones who recline on couches atop cloudy Olympus. Artemis the wise maiden herself had given to Briseis the gifts of white skin and hair dark as the shadows of Vulcan's forge. Aphrodite, beauteous goddess of love itself, had added to this breasts as round as the Apples of the Hesperides, tipped with upstanding nipples colored as with the juice of many pomegranates. From great Ceres, Achilles' prize had received legs which were long and supple, and strong to wrap around the hips of a warrior when he laid off his armour to take his rest from battle on the soft coverings of his bed.

The greatest of a woman's charms had been given to her by Hera herself, great queen of Olympus who sits beside mighty Zeus. As she knew well what the bull large cock of Zeus sought in her bed, and which a warrior strong would seek in the bed of a captive maiden, she gifted Briseis with a pussy befitting a goddess, beautiful and wet and warm in a nest of soft dark hair rippling like the wine dark Aegean Sea.

Yet one moire gift to these was added, and Apollo himself saw to it. That god in his glorious wisdom knew no preference between a beautiful youth or a fair maiden, but understood that on either one there was nothing which aroused the hardness of a virile man as the twin moons of a well turned ass. To Briseis he thus gave a glory that would befit either sex, a fine round butt which begged a hard cock to enter and find its place in the valley between those hills of delight.

Seeing the gifts the Olympians had bestowed on this girl, the son of Peleus strode into the pen and pulled the girl to her feet. As she wept and called on the goddesses to protect her, Hera and Aphrodite turned away from her pleas and favored the mighty Achilles that he might do as he wished with her. The great hero placed his battle hardened hands on her delicious boobs, and squeezed the budlike nipples between the fingers which had so recently wrapped around the shaft of a spear. His other hand pulled up her shift and probed deep into her cunt which was opening like a growing flower. Though the woman cried out as he did so, he could feel flowing the sweet juices which welcome the shaft into the depths of feminine delight and so he knew that this protesting girl was no stranger to the ecstasy of a man's cock.

Laughing, mighty Achilles threw the supple body over his shoulders. With the strength of Hephaestos, crippled smith with mighty organ who beds the voluptuous Aphrodite in the god's smithy beneath smoking Vesuvius, to his tent he carried his prize. In front of the tents and the ships of the Greek heroes stood the pavilion of Achilles the strong. Of finest silk from oriental caravans and strong goatskins from the sea of darkness was it made. Within it the virgin oil of Pallas' olive trees burned in fine gold lamps made by the most skilled craftsmen. Around the tent were strewn soft linen cloths and draperies of lambs wool from the Northern coasts. On these soft piles the hero of the Danaans dropped his crying prize.

He strode to the door of the tent where waited Patroclus, dearest and most loved friend of the great warrior. "Do you keep close watch that we are not disturbed, my soulmate. Who more than you knows how I shall wield my spear this night. As we have often passed the night through, so tonight I pass it with this maiden. May my shaft probe her pussy as deeply as my spear probed the guts of the Trojan warriors on the field this day." With these words he dropped the door of the tent and turned to his work.

Mighty in arms was the Greek hero, and many feats had he performed this day that lesser men would not have accomplished. The field was dark with the bodies of Trojans he had struck, and the dogs lapped at their blood and the hawks and kites picked at their eyes. Hurtling down to the depths of Hades were the brave souls of those he had pursued. A mighty battle lust had hung over him, and now that it was dissipated a mighty lust rose in his loins for this captured maiden.

His plumed helmet he threw to the ground, and his strong breastplate bearing the scars of many weapons followed it with a clangor. Over his mighty chest rippled the hard muscles , and the sinews of his arms that swung the heavy sword and wielded the long spear stood out in power. The girl in his bed gasped at the sight. Then mighty Achilles dropped his leathern trews and let his powerful cock spring forth, standing tall in his lust and shaking as the spears of the foe shook when they beheld him on the field of war. His mother had prayed all the gods to give gifts to her son ere she dipped him in the river, and Zeus himself had granted to her son the mighty thews and the long strong rod which rose from them. The maiden in his bed stared at the weapon in awe and anticipation, whether for welcome or for fear only the goddesses sporting in the bowers of cloud topped Olympus could know.

Onto the bed the son of Peleus bolted, and the arms which held his shield and spear now wrapped around the maiden. His strong chest pressed her boobs flat against it, and his powerful legs spread hers wide. He held her down though she struggled feebly, and that stiff cock which even the gods envied probed into her warm pussy and thrust deep. As a warrior coming victorious from the field, he now conquered the captive maiden as he had conquered her defenders. Again and again his shaft rammed deep into her, and he shook her hips until the wet warmth of her pussy drove him to a godlike height. Not in vain had mighty Hera gifted Briseis with a cunt as fine as those soft wet possessions of the goddesses sporting in Elysian Fields. Tight, warm and moist, it held Achilles' rock hard cock and drove him onward.

But now the hero seized control and pulled his shaft out of the warm depths. Briseis, feeling this, gasped aloud. Aphrodite, looking down from the Olympian heights, knew that Briseis, no longer captive but willing fucker, was ready to serve the son of Peleus with honor. She sent an image to the Trojan girl which filled her mind and like the birds flying in springtime, sent her into action. The maiden seized Achilles' rock hard dick with both hands, which hardly sufficed to contain its length. She pulled it to her mouth, and circled the wine red head of it with her ruby lips. Up and down she stroked that mighty pole as the warrior stood and thrust it deeper and deeper into her throat.

Falling to the bed, he pulled her on top of him, in that position which gives both lovers the sight of the others organ, and began to lick her cunt with passion and power. She sucked his strong spear shaft of a cock, and his tongue probed her wet salty hole, and both rose to the heights that only the gods and goddesses usually attain.

From the top of the sacred mount, Ares watched the copulation of these two on the windy plain by the Dardanelles, and he gave strength to Achilles to match that which Aphrodite rained down upon the girl of the soft round boobs. No sacrifice is so welcome to the mighty ones as the true power which rises from lover's beds. With satisfaction they watched as Achilles turned the fair maiden until her cunt rode down on his cock and her hips shook as the ships riding toward Troy had shaken in the winds on the sea. His hands clenched hard on her tits and his shaft thrust upward deep into her wet warmth.

Now Achilles moaned and thrust hard and deep into the girl, and she cried out with her ecstasy. The strength of their orgasms mounted into the sky, and it was more pleasing then the smoke from the sacrifice of a hecatomb of oxen to the Olympians who watched this great ritual. Exhausted both fell back upon the furs and fabrics of the bed, and the candle guttered and burned out leaving the tent in darkness.

Soon led forth his mighty horses great Helios, and boarding his chariot leapt into the sky and carried the sun over the Mediterranean. Beauteous Aurora ruler of the dawn spread her red and gold across the windy plain of Ilium and the scene which yesterday had seen so much carnage and bloodshed lay glorious in the morning light. As gold dust flows into the Treasury of Atreus at Mycenae, so the golden beams crept into the tent where Achilles of the shining helm lay asleep. Leaning over him was the maiden Briseis, clothed in nothing but the garment she wore when her mother gave her birth. She looked on his sleeping face with adoration, and lightly her fingers traced the strong sinews of his arm, and the deep muscles of his great chest.

Down over his belly they traced, and toward his legs where his virile organ lay. As the maiden of the fair tits and sweet pussy began to rub his cock, like the shaft of his mighty spear which drank the blood of Trojans it rose in strength. The hero awakened and saw what she did. Fair to his eyes were the soft white boobs which he saw, and the soft white hands which stroked his manhood and readied it for action. His mighty hand, made to hold the haft of a weapon, now reached instead to the girl's round ass and caressed it with pleasure to both of them. Bending forward now, Achilles' beauteous prize taken in noble battle enfolded his manly shaft with her lips and began to wrap her tongue around its head.

As a peasant's pump works up and down to pour the fair water on Ceres' fields, so the fair maiden's lips worked up and down on Achilles' cock. Her fine butt, as white as a young boy's, was toward the hero and he pushed his fingers between her legs into her soft wet depths. Eros hovered over their heads, urging them on to greater speed and penetration as if he fired arrows. Faster and faster the strokes came, deeper and deeper the penetration. Finally the hero plunged his fingers deep in her pussy and she sucked his dick deep in her throat and each of them achieved their end.

Briseis sat on the fine lamb's wool coverlet, shining in her naked beauty with drops of sweat rolling down her boobs and dripping off her pointed nipples. "Eros, playful godling and son of the great Aphrodite, has surely stricken me with his arrows, my Lord. Your adoring slave I am forevermore, and all that which you want I shall deliver to you in your bed. My life in great walled Troy, and my husband who will carry a spear no more, shall be forgotten as the footprint in the sand is forgotten when the tide rolls over it."

Hearing these words, Apohrodite smiled and granted to Achilles a lust for this woman exceeding all that he had felt before. For ten days they sported often and the odor of their coupling wafted to the nostrils of the Olympians. And for ten days, great Agamemnon forced and chastised his prize, Chryseis of the bounteous breasts. Mighty Zeus, strong Ares, and crippled Hephaestos rejoiced in his power over the helpless girl, and gentle Aphrodite, cunning Hera, and wise Artemis celebrated the love of the Achilles and his beautiful prize.

But as the cup was passed in the banquet hall of cloud capped Olympus, one of their number drank not in joy. Say, Muse, which of the gods was it who liked not the concord among the ships of the Hellenes on the beach before Troy, and wished to spread quarrels among them? It was the son of Zeus and Leda, mighty Apollo, who was angry with the King of the Greeks, Agamemnon from the city of gold. For the prize which the King had chosen , Chryseis, was daughter of Chryse aged priest of Apollo, and when the priest sacrificed to the god and begged Agamemnon to return his daughter, the mighty Mycenaen refused, though the ransom offered was heavy.

But the old priest beseeched the god of the silver bow, reminding him of his long service and many sacrifices whose smoke had risen to the god's nostrils, and Apollo heard him. He raised his bow and shot his arrows into the midst of the Greeks, and pestilence and plague fell upon them.

Then the leaders came to Agamemnon and begged him to release the girl. Quaking in fear of mighty Phoebus' wrath, the ruler of the Argives returned the girl to her father, bedecked in garlands, and accompanied by a hecatomb of oxen for the god.

Raging now in his loss, the son of Atreus cried, "Am I to be the only one whose ship lies on the shore not to have a prize from the villages of the plain? Let me have a prize worthy of my station or I will take one from Ajax, or Ulysses, or Achilles!" Then the King bestrode himself to the decorated tent where Achilles still lay with his Briseis. He thrust open the door of the tent, and the naked girl hurried to cover herself with a dyed robe of lambs wool as the son of Peleus rose to face the intruder.

Then Agamemnon said, "Achilles, valiant though you be, you shall not outwit me. Are you to keep your own prize while I sit tamely under my loss? Surely I shall thrust my shaft into Brisies as my right."

Achilles scowled and answered, "You are steeped in insolence and your lust for the girl's soft wet flowers. You forget the deeds I have performed on this field to gain satisfaction from the Trojans for your son Menelaus. You rob me of the prize for which I have fought who now willingly in my bed brings me my pleasure. Now shall I go back to my ships and be thankful that my fighting is done. If ever again there is need of me to save the warriors from run, they shall seek and shall not find me."

So Agamemnon led the girl captive to his tent. Though her heart searched for Achilles, she was now slave to the King of the Argives and he would have his way with her. As his other prize had been tied with a rope of lambs wool, now around the soft neck of Briseis he fastened one of harsh hemp. The robe she brought from Achilles tent he cut from her with his dagger, dragging it perilously close to her delicate nipples. Sobbing the girl tried to pull away from the tyrant, but he tightened the rope around her soft neck.

Aphrodite gazed down upon the great tent of the commander and her anger was kindled at his wanton acts. Now the son of Atreus fastened his greedy lips on the sensitive nipples of the frightened girl and sucked them hard. His battle hardened hands grabbed her finely shaped ass and pulled it to him, forcing the lips of her cunt against his great cock. As he threw down enemies on the field of Ares so he threw the white skinned maiden onto his bed. Seizing the rough hemp rope, he bound her hands behind her back, and then with great force wrapped it around her knees, pulling them to her chest. As she lay face down on the bed her fine round ass projected into the air, and between her legs her pink pussy was exposed to the great King, as the gates to so many helpless cities had gaped before his sword.

With lightning fast movements of a trained warrior, he thrust his mighty spear at her, and impaled her pussy upon its shaft. As the bucking horse jerks and twists to loosen the hated saddle, so the great lord of Mycenae bucked and jerked in the soft warm cunt. His lust grew and drove him deeper and deeper as the girl cried out to Pallas Athena to save her, but Zeus prevented any of the Olympians from interfering with the cruel coupling.

Finally Agamemnon spent himself, and roughly drew away from the girl's pussy. The rope was loosened, and she tried to cover herself with the bedding, but the king laughed and tore it from her. "Naked you shall decorate my tent, bitch. When we tore you from your home after gaining it in war, you gave up the right to fine robes and delicate gowns. Here you shall wear nothing but that white skin which glistens after we have fucked. Let your boobs bounce for my joy and your pussy welcome my gaze. Spread your legs! Let me see the prize I have won." Weeping the girl did as he told her.

Atop Olympus, the rage of Athena grew hot. To revenge the dishonor of the girl Briseis, Agamemnon must be brought low. Flying to the city of Troy, she urged mighty Hector to put on his arms and sally forth against the warriors from the Greek ships. Hector of the long spear needed no goddess to inflame him against the beseigers. Calling a troop of men he surged forth against the Greeks.

In his tent, Agamemnon heard the trumpets blow. With a final gloating look at the rounded boobs and sweet cunt of his prize, he girded on his armour and prepared to fight.