This is my attempt at a "porn parody" (for lack of a better description) of Ancient Greek mythology. It is not a direct adaptation of any one story, but an original tale made of bits and pieces pulled from several Greek myths. The intention was not only to create a work of erotic fantasy, but an epic saga that paid loving tribute to the poets and playwrights of antiquity.
Thank you for reading. Please enjoy.
Chapter 2
Though Pheira had died giving birth to Zeus' son, Hera's jealousy had not yet been sated.
She watched intently as the marble quarryman Plakinos raised Pheira's son as his own. She watched Tythoros become a master marble cutter, taught by Plakinos until the old man finally went down to the House of Death.
She saw this bastard, this illegitimate son of her husband, grow into a wonderful man. He was tall and handsome, with thick oak-brown hair and his mother's blue eyes. His skin was made tanned and rough through many long days in the quarry.
And yet she continued to wait. Twenty years had passed before the time finally came for her to strike again.
***
As Tythoros walked home after work that night, he took some time to pass by the Parthenon. He did this very frequently. As much as he revered the wise warrior goddess Athena, Tythoros admired this temple still more for its craftsmanship. This was a house designed to last throughout the ages, built from the finest marble bricks in all the kingdom.
He would normally have gone into the temple to pray further, but there was no chance of that. The entire city had flocked to Athena's temple in anticipation for the upcoming Panathenaia, when the grey-eyed goddess' birthday would be observed. The crowds assembling around the temple would be true Athenian citizens, no doubt, and Tythoros wanted nothing to do with such people that day.
With a silent prayer of apology to the favorite daughter of Zeus, Tythoros continued walking by. He was going home, where he would find the greatest blessing the gods had yet granted him.
***
Not only was Tythoros a mere commoner (so far as everyone knew, anyway), but his birth by a foreign woman barred him from formal citizenship in Athens. Even so, he had no shortage of suitors. Given his reputation as a handsome, kind, strong, and charming man with great success in business, Tythoros could have had his choice of any woman in the city. Men came from leagues away, offering handsome dowries if only Tythoros would marry their daughters.
To the outrage of many women, and the bewilderment of many men, Tythoros eventually chose Aloche.
That night -- as with every night for the past few months -- Tythoros got to eat dinner opposite the adorable dimpled smile of a brown-haired girl in her late teens. "How go preparations for the festival?" he asked his wife.
"Very well," replied Aloche. "Getting the peplos ready is never a simple matter, but it will be done on time." Aloche was one of the ergastinai, those craftswomen who worked every year to build a gown (the peplos) for the Parthenon's massive statue of Athena as part of the festival.
She continued, "Speaking of work, how are things in the quarry?"
"There is high demand for marble in Eleutherae," answered Tythoros. "I spent all day carrying marble there from the quarry. All day, sweet Aloche, carrying one block after another from the quarry to the construction site in Eleutherae. What other man in all the kingdom could do such work for so long?"
Indeed, Tythoros had such strength and endurance that he could work a dozen mules into the ground. No mortal could ever have known, but this was the gift of his immortal blood. In any case, Aloche guessed that Tythoros didn't stress the point simply to brag.
Aloche set down her dinner. "Certainly, no one else in the kingdom who could do so much," she agreed.
"Not even the strongest runner in the Panathenaic Games, you can be sure," Tythoros pointed out, as he aggressively continued eating.
Aloche watched him for a few concerned and uncertain moments. "My dear husband, what ails you?"
Tythoros set down his meal and breathed a heavy sigh. "I hesitate to say," replied Tythoros. "For it would mean speaking ill of the city and the people that I love."
Aloche moved to sit next to her husband. "Sweet Tythoros, you know I would not judge you, nor would I divulge anything you wished secret. I pray you, please tell me what the matter is."
After a long, thoughtful pause, Tythoros finally spoke. "I was born in Athens. I was brought up by a citizen of Athens. All my life, I've lived by the laws and customs of Athens. Yet because my mother -- the mother I never knew -- was not born here, I can never be considered a true citizen."
Aloche put a hand on Tythoros' thigh. "And why, dear husband, would you wish to be a true citizen? You fear being treated as a person of lower class? There should be no concern for that, you have enough success in cutting marble. You wish to compete in the games? No one could defeat you in competitions of strength and the whole city knows it. You wish to honor Athena by taking part in her birthday rituals? You honor each of the gods all year with the temples and statues made from your marble. You deeply love the city and no one would dare claim otherwise. So what is it that you want?"
Tythoros put a hand on her shoulder. "I only regret that I was cursed with an uncertain past. My whole life, I never felt like I truly belonged anywhere. Even worse, I know in my heart that there is some place out there where I may be accepted freely and completely."
Aloche responded by taking his cheek in her hand, leaning over to tenderly kiss him. With that one kiss, she made it clear that he would always be at home in her arms.
Finally, the kiss was broken. Tythoros looked over the round face, the soft green eyes, and the big, pouty lips of his wife.
"Are you with child yet?" he asked.
"No," she replied sadly. "Not yet."
As Tythoros got up, he said, "We must do something about that."
***
As Aloche led him to the bedchamber, Tythoros spent every moment admiring the body of his wife from behind. She was a full-figured woman, with just enough meat on her bones to provide some amazing curves. Aloche swayed her hips as she walked, knowing that her husband had his eyes on her backside the whole time.
No one else could understand why Tythoros turned down so many tall and slender beauties to marry a wider woman who was shorter than him by a head and a half. It was not a decision that he regretted for a moment.
When they finally reached the bedchamber, Tythoros put his hands on her waist. He pulled her closer, pressing her back against his lower chest. Tythoros crouched down, Aloche craned her neck back and upward, and they kissed deeply.
As they kissed, Tythoros moved his hands all over her. The two of them melted into each other as their warm tongues probed each other's mouths. She pressed herself tighter against him as his rough hands and strong arms explored her wonderful curves.
Slowly, Tythoros moved his hands up to her chest. He lowered his mouth to kiss her neck, the better to hear her moans of pleasure. She happily rolled her head to the side, allowing for more of his warm touch on her light pink skin.
Oh, how Aloche sighed at the feel of Tythoros gently rubbing her huge, supple breasts through the fabric of her clothes. She gasped with delight as his fingers teased her nipples, which grew ever harder at his touch.
A short time later, Aloche's nipples were so erect that they visibly poked through her clothes. Tythoros moved his left hand to continue pleasing her right breast as his right hand slowly traveled downward. Down past her navel, just barely grazing her pubic mound, finally settling on her thigh.
She could feel his large, strong hand on the inside of her thigh, raising her skirt at a leisurely pace. Aloche responded by swaying her hips, moving them side to side against the great arousal of her lover. The feel of her big, round ass rubbing against his prick sent shudders of joy throughout his entire body, but Tythoros would not be distracted from his task.
Finally, Tythoros succeeded in raising Aloche's skirt, exposing the damp, meaty lips and the dark brown curls of her sex. She let out an ecstatic yelp as he began to gently caress her intimate flesh. All the while, he continued to massage her breast, tease her nipple, and kiss her neck.
It was too much. Aloche reached with one hand to fondle her other breast while the other hand reached upward for Tythoros' shoulder. Her entire body was open to him.
"My love," she whispered. "Please don't torture me like this. I'm ready. I need you."
With that, Tythoros quickly rubbed her pink folds one last time before gently inserting two fingers. The warm friction of his rough fingers inside of her made Aloche groan loudly with joy. The feel of his thumb rotating against her pearl made her hips grind harder.
"That feels so good!" cried Aloche. "Deeper! Faster!"
Tythoros obliged. His thumb pressed harder against her clit. His fingers moved in and out of her with a quick and unyielding rhythm. The friction created heat that radiated through Aloche's entire body. Her senses flooded with ecstasy, combined with the feel of the pressure on her breasts and her lover's warm breath against her neck.
Aloche could feel the rush overcoming her, and she made no attempt to resist. Tythoros felt her go rigid in his arms with an "Ah! Ah! AHHHHH, YES!" His wife then collapsed, panting for breath, into his arms.
When the wave of senseless euphoria had finally passed, she looked up at Tythoros, who was now back to standing at his full height.
"I think we should disrobe, don't you?" he suggested. Indeed, as Aloche soon realized, they were still fully clothed.
As simple as that, Aloche immediately got her second wind. She stood, unclasped her chiton, and took the fabric from her luscious body as quickly as she could. At the same time, Tythoros moved to uncover his tanned skin and his enormous muscles.
