Halls of Eros

Author's Note:

This story is largely inspired by the writer Sarkopheros, who helped me realize how much fun this kind of writing can be. If you're unfamiliar with his work, this will include things like hyper-sized cocks, cum inflation, and the like, as well as modified elements of Greco-roman mythology.

Everyone, even the "boys," are over 18.

Have fun!

*****

The desk had been a solid piece of black marble, veined with silvery white. Otho had clacked one thick gold coin onto the cool stone. Engraved on its face was an elaborate E. The man behind the counter had raised an eyebrow. He had been lithe, with a round face and auburn hair held back in a loose ponytail, and on his lapel gleamed a pin with a similar E. He had looked over Otho, eyeing him from stubbled chin to muscular torso, leaning forward to peer briefly further. Immediately, he had stood straight and blinked once. Otho had placed a second coin beside the first.

"I won't ask," the receptionist had said.

"Another time," Otho responded.

"Another? There isn't-" the man cleared had his throat. "Should there be another time. As for this time, what will you have?"

***

Crackling torches dimly illuminated a hallway of stone. Plush, patterned red rugs softened the floor and muffled echoes. Doors of dark wood, some closed, and some open to small chambers, lined the passage. Nearly every room leaked sounds - the rhythmic creak of furniture, carnal moans, or quieter, wetter noises. The air was thick with sweat, smoke, and sex.

Otho pushed closed the heavy oak door at the end of the hall, the bottom sliding audibly over the soft rug. He was tall and olive skinned, with black hair cropped short and three days' stubble. His wide chest and flat stomach were dusted with straight hair. Large muscles bulged smoothly on his arms and chest like surging, rippling hills. A single vein snaked a short distance under his right bicep. A pale scar cut a bald line across his left side, from above his navel to just under his ribs. Lit by the torchlight, the curves of his musculature were etched into flickering contrast.

Neat pubic hair framed the base of his enormously thick cock, a log of flesh that swung heavily to just above his knees. It was as big around as his stout bicep and ended with a fat, pale purple glans whose tip poked out from wrinkled foreskin. His scrotum, sagging under the weight of two grapefruit-sized balls, hung low and loose between his thighs in the heat of the stone passage. Otho's deep hazel eyes flickered in the torchlight, scanning the numbered plaques above the doors.

Decimus, a pale boy up to Otho's shoulder in height, was at the man's side. His dark brown hair, caught in the torchlight, shown an almost imperceptible green tinge. His lips were thin and plum-red, his eyes deep green with flecks like sparks. His pink dick wagged playfully over tightly drawn balls. A small "X" was tattooed on his right shoulder blade. He nuzzled into the crevice of Otho's deltoid as they started to walk down the corridor, sucking and kissing needily. His white fingers massaged the base of the man's cock, whose central vein ran as thick as the boy's forearm.

"I'm not supposed to say this," Decimus whispered into Otho's shoulder. His breath was warm and sweet, like cherry blossoms on a late spring breeze. "But you're not going to need two of us. Even with these." He skimmed fingertips over one of Otho's balls, barely touching. A tingling sensation spread from the boy's touch and into Otho's groin.

The man looked down at Decimus and smiled quizzically, but he said nothing.

"Have you ever been with a nymph?"

"I haven't." Otho's voice was deep and rich, marked by traces of gravel.

"This is what we do, Lowlander."

Otho, his arm around the boy, traced a tanned finger up his hip, followed the curve of his side. His skin was soft, as tender as though it had never endured the bite or chill of winter.

"We'll see."

They walked slowly, Otho gazing into open chambers where men and creatures lay together in heat. In one room, which had its door flung open fully, a man with long, golden hair and shimmering black eyes squatted over another whose face was hidden, riding him The top had unusually hairy legs that were structured strangely, almost backward, and that ended in black hooves. On his back, he moaned softly as his obsidian-eyed lover lowered himself on his fat cock, pressing taint to ball sac.

In another, two men with rich, brown skin watched Otho pass. They were fucking doggy-style with sheets tangled at their knees. The top's ball-slapping rhythm slowed, but the bottom did not seem to notice. Decimus smirked as both of the men chased after the pair with their eyes full of pleading desire.

They continued on past the smoking torches a good distance, although an end to the corridor never came into view. At a quiet, closed door, Decimus stopped and pressed a hand to the ancient wood. It opened silently, revealing a room with a large central bed with clean, red sheets. A musky, earthy smell added itself to the smoky sex that permeated the corridor. A couch sat against one wall, and torches on either side of the room lit the stone chamber with warm, wavering light. A man sat, his hairy, hoofed legs spread, in the center of the couch. He was bearded, and two short horns poked from within a mass of curled hair on his head. Between his legs on the floor knelt a boy, as pale as Decimus but with slightly longer, straw-blonde hair. His shoulder bore a small "VIII." The boy's head bobbed on the satyr's cock.

The satyr watched the others enter with the openness of a man at a public bathhouse, acknowledging Otho with an appreciative nod.

"Oi," he said before reclining and closing his eyes. He sighed, the sound breaking at the end like a goat's bleat.

Decimus drifted toward the bed, pulling at Otho's hand and beckoning him with happy, lustful green eyes. Orange torchlight cast moving shadows on his pale skin, glistening on his teeth, his smooth chest, and his round, bouncing ass. His skin was creamy, without a freckle or blemish, with dark pink tinged cheeks, nipples, and dick. The boy fell backward onto the bed, spreading a fan of wrinkles across the sheets with him at its center. Otho approached him slowly. The same unsteady orange light glinted on his scar, gave depth to his bulging pecs. Otho leaned over the boy and gently kissed his sternum, his neck, his thin, warm lips. His massive cock pressed against the cool bed frame, its purple, cantaloupe-sized glans stretching his foreskin, just beginning to engorge. The boy twisted his head up, his breath already heavy, and Otho moved down to kiss his neck.

"You're only a human," he said. His lips barely moved. "You have no divine blood. And yet even giants-" he gasped as Otho's tongue tickled his nipple. "Even the uncouth giants do not match your size."

The man paused, showing a trace of a smile. He gave Decimus' nipple one more nibble, then straightened and lifted his swelling cock over the boy's body. Otho's hot, softball-sized balls pressed against the bed frame as he leaned forward. His massive dick loomed over the boy's stomach, as thick as the man's thigh and reaching, semi-hard, to the boy's lowest rib. Veins pulsed along its length, engorging the enormous purple head and forcing his foreskin to roll back. A shimmering glob of precum drooled from the tip, slowly stretching down to the boy's torso. Decimus' own prick was fully erect, curving slightly upward with a deep pink head.

"And have you ever fucked an uncouth giant?" Otho asked. His voice was freshly tilled earth: soft, but resonant and robust. A light accent from the southern islands spiced his words.

Decimus dabbed a hand in the pool of clear liquid forming in the hollow beneath his ribs.

"They don't understand themselves," he said. Ropes of pre hung from his fingers as he brought his hand to his mouth. He sucked first one finger, then the next, savoring Otho's natural lube. "They thrust like brutes in a hurry. Like bulls." He put his whole ring finger in his mouth, scouring it with his tongue. "Or horny human teenagers." He licked the last of the pre from his pinky. "Plus, they don't pay much."

The satyr on the couch chuckled.

"Now don't ya pretend ya'd let a giant tear yer arse up fer even a pretty penny," he said. His voice was course, but not deep. "Ya've too much pride fer that, Dess." The boy on his cock giggled, too, but the satyr put a hand on the sucker's tousled hair and forced himself down the boy's throat. "Octavius's got no pride left." He smirked when the boy's chin touched his ballsac. "Keeps his gullet from shuttin'."

Otho watched as the boy, Octavius, made gulping sounds with his nose held to the satyr's groin. He was not choking. His throat clenched and unclenched, massaging the satyr's rigid dick. He stayed down, making wet, ludicrously erotic noises for over a minute. The satyr's eyes grew unfocussed, his grip in the boy's hair loosened. Thick throat-spit poured over the satyr's hairy sac. The boy's adam's apple moved visibly over the bulge in his throat. The goat man's mouth opened, his breath caught. Octavius pulled back, expelling the dick with a long sucking sound. It throbbed, raging and pumping precum as the satyr whimpered like a deprived sheep. He looked at Otho, having proven a point, eyes cloudy with pleasure. Octavius caught his breath while the satyr recovered, then placed his lips again on the cock in front of him.

Something tickled the tip of Otho's urethra. Decimus knelt on the bed, Otho's fully erect cock before him like a battering ram, the shaft slightly larger in length and girth than Otho's own thigh. The column of warm flesh bobbed lazily at the boy's touch. Slimy precum drenched the boy's face, his chest, his arms. He had been using it as lube on his own little cock. Decimus placed a hand on either side of the glans that was as big as his own head, rubbing them in slow circles between the foreskin and head. He kissed the underside of the tip with an open mouth, his tongue teasing the slit. Otho let out a long, hungry moan.

"Fuck, that's good." Hands slid up and down over folds of Otho's foreskin in short motions, then travelled down the shaft as far as Decimus could reach, only to come back up to the head. He kept his mouth near the tip, plunging his tongue into Otho's urethra and around the end of the glans. He was reveling in the column of Otho's meat that hung suspended in front of him, rubbing his hands and forearms over as much skin as he could cover. He stayed at the base of the glans for a moment, just behind the corona, and massaged the skin with delicate fingers. Otho felt the skin of his sac stretch as his balls grew heavy. From the couch, Octavius slurped loudly. Decimus brought his hands down under, stroking the underside of Otho's cock. It was dense and hard with pulsing blood. He took a deep breath and tried to heft it, lifting it only a few inches. It bounced mightily when he released it, flinging a finger-thick rope of precum.

"It's so...fucking...big," Decimus said, gasping through the slime. He sat in a pool of pre that soaked the mattress around him and made his skin shine in the torchlight. The air was dense with its pungent scent. The boy's cock was arched up against his belly, painfully hard. He looked at his stomach. "It's going to be tight." He drew his hands up along his skinny, unblemished sides. The boy's fingers were unsteady in fear and excitement. His voice was shaky. "What if it doesn't fit?"

Otho chuckled, eyeing the boy's stomach. The small fingers made little indentations as he drew them over his soft, pale skin. He was giving himself goosebumps.

"'Stretches like a nymph's pussy' is a saying they have in Palermo. Talking about clothes. Or sails, usually," Otho said. He gestured for the boy to flip over. "Let's hope it holds true for his ass."

The satyr chortled through a moan.

Decimus had a full ass that hid his little hole even when he pushed it into the air, his chest on the wet sheets. Otho spread his pale cheeks apart to expose the nymph's puckered asshole, faintly tinted plum-red like his lips. It was sealed tight, pressed together as though it had never been spread. He lightly brushed one finger over the wrinkled skin. He felt it clench, visibly scrunching tighter.

"Ease up for me," Otho said softly. He brought his face close, his breath hot on the nymph's ass. His deep, accented voice was inviting, safe. "I'll go slow."

Decimus exhaled against the sheets. Otho pressed his face between his cheeks and tickled the ring with his tongue. He smelled of woods, like the heavy, wet smell of a fallen tree. The boy let out a near-whimper involuntarily. His sphincter relaxed, and the man slipped his tongue in briefly, then out, teasing open the hole. He touched one fingertip to the newly wet pucker. Decimus' hole opened for it, and Otho's eyes widened as the boy's sphincter pulsed, pulling him in. It pulsed again, sucking his finger deeper, until he was knuckle deep in the boy's ass. The man gave a surprised laugh.

"Oh god," Otho said. "That's fucking amazing." Decimus' anal walls tightened in waves on his finger. The man's cock throbbed involuntarily.

"Agh!" came a groan from the couch. The satyr threw both his arms against the back of the couch and bleated like a dying goat. Octavius had his chin in his balls, his throat pumping around a solid lump. The goat man's body shook once, twice, and then sagged. The light haired nymph pulled slowly off the cock and wiped his mouth..

"Fuck," Decimus groaned. He squirmed on the man's finger, pressing himself against him. "More. Fuck, I want more."

Otho pressed another finger inside the boy. He drew them in and out slowly, feeling his pressure and warmth. He added a third.

"I want it," Decimus said into the sheets. His voice cracked, and his anal walls pulsed on Otho's fingers. "Take me." He sighed as Otho's fingers plunged deep. "Put your fucking giant cock inside me."

Otho pulled his fingers out and kissed the nymph's open hole before stepping back to allow his dick between them. The boy's feet were hooked over the edge of the bed, his legs spread and his ass up. He looked out, under his stomach and through his legs, to see the bowling-ball sized head of Otho's monster, dark with blood. The slit was gaping wide, and a thick rope of precum stretched downward. Otho's full, low balls were visible below the swaying head. They were distinctly larger than before; the man had to spread his legs to encompass them. They were swollen like inflating balloons, pulling his skin taught.

Otho hefted his cock with both hands, the muscles of his back and arms bulging and rippling, and dragged the precum-oozing maw down the crack between the boy's cheeks. Ropes of the fluid stretched between dick and ass as the man repositioned his enormous member against Decimus' asshole. His slit was larger than the boy's open hole, and the full cheeks molded a wide circle around Otho's glans. The smooth skin pressed against his sensitive head, rubbing and sliding like velvet pillows. Clear fluid gushed around the tip and fell in stringy globs to the floor.

"No, wait!" Octavius said raspily. He held up a hand while he cleared his throat. "Let me help."

He positioned himself over Decimus, one leg on each side, and used both hands to guide Otho's cock into place. Spit dribbled from his mouth onto Otho's dickhead, and the boy rubbed the meagre addition over the already glistening skin.

"Okay," he said, nodding to Otho. "I don't think you're going to need any more lube."

The man pressed himself forward. Decimus' creamy ass cheeks were pushed outward around the girth of the fat glans, and his face was driven into the bedsheets. Octavius helped the nymph brace against the force as Otho kept pushing. Little by little, the tight pink hole spread wider around the fleshy purple head that threatened to rip it apart. It squeezed Otho's glans with intense, gratifying pressure. Decimus whimpered and clenched, but the man did not give in. His rigid cock resisted the nymph's contraction, and Otho drove deeper inside him. Decimus widened his legs until his stomach was on the bed. Something in his pelvis cracked, and Otho slid his head-sized glans all the way in with a wet pop.

Decimus panted erratically into the mattress with his eyes screwed shut. Otho grabbed two fistfuls of distorted ass cheek and waited for the nymph to adjust to the girth. He could feel the precum coursing through his cock and into the boy, preparing him. Octavius came behind Otho and crouched behind his balls. His warm hands cupped one of the heavy orbs, massaging it.

"I can feel it...churning," he said before burying his face between the sagging balls. His tongue lapped at the folds of Otho's sac while his hands grasped at the full nuts.

Otho inched forward slowly, using his own fluid to slide in. He placed one hand on the center of the nymph's back.

"Relax for me," he said in a soothing, gravelly whisper. "Give me that little ass, boy. Let me open it up."

"It's - " He whimpered as another two inches of thigh-thick cock slid into him. "It's too big. I don't know if - " He came, his little pink cock shooting white streams against his belly and onto the bed. He whimpered again as Otho thrust more of himself inside his taught hole.

"You can take it, boy. Swallow it up."

Octavius peeked up from underneath the man's balls to find half of his enormous length protruding from Decimus' overstretched hole. Clear, thick pre oozed around his girth, dripping in long ropes.

"Oh, shit," he said, pointing between Decimus' spread legs. "I can see it! I can see your cock inside him!" Underneath the skewered nymph was a growing lump that had been his flat stomach. It moved with Otho's slow thrusts, growing larger each time.

The man's started to take larger thrusts, pulling eight inches out and pressing in ten more. The nymph clenched at the sheets and ground backward. His stomach distended massively around Otho's cock. It made a slick, sucking sound when the man pushed it further into him.

The satyr on the couch was hard again, intently watching the man and two nymphs. He spat on his still-glistening cock and wrapped a meaty fist around it. His quick strokes made squelching noises as he pumped, his fist slapping his balls without restraint.

Otho's groin pressed into Decimus' absurdly deformed ass. His balls touched the cool bedframe. The nymph let out a cry that descended into a shaky moan. Otho ran his fingers up Decimus' back, soothing him and allowing his ass time to stretch. Octavius eyed the tent in the other nymph's stomach with disbelief and what might have been jealousy. Otho leaned forward, his muscular, hairy pecs warm on Decimus' back, and reached for the nymph's nipples. They were hard and easy to pinch.

"There it is," he whispered into the boy's ear. Decimus whimpered pitifully. "That's a nice hole, and I'm gonna make it mine." He ran his hand over the taught skin of the boy's tented stomach, feeling his own cock through him.

"Take it," Decimus said through gritted teeth. "My whole fucking body. Fucking use me."

Otho drew out a solid foot of thick, dripping cock, only to slide it slowly back in.

"Flip over," he said. "I want to see it inside you."

Decimus extended a shaking arm in an attempt to roll himself over, only for it to give out and leave him where he started. He groaned weakly.

Otho put his hands under the nymph's torso and lifted him off the bed. His burly arms rippled with muscle as he rotated the boy still impaled by his massive cock. He squirmed some, then relaxed on his back. The ridge of Otho's dickead was visible as a line in Decimus' bulging stomach, just under his ribs. Octavius watched the line descend to Decimus' belly button, absent mindedly massaging one of Otho's heavy balls. The man shoved himself back in over several breaths, the veins on his hulking shaft bulging with the pressure of passing under the nymph's tight sphincter. Decimus threw his chin up, grimacing with a sharp intake of breath before Otho bottomed out.