Erotic Mythology Ch. 01

There was a definite sparkle to Atalanta's not-unkind laughter. "Well, a woman has needs, you know!" She gently brushed her hand along the side of the prince's face, cradling underneath his jaw as her blue eyes pierced through him. "It's true that through today I am a virgin," she bit her lower lip in an anxious pause, "But I hope by the sun's rise, I won't be able to say that, any longer."

The prince could barely breathe while he pressed forward, taking Atalanta into his arms and slowly kissed her. The huntress and the hunter embraced, at the same time so tightly as to not let go, yet loosely to be able to feel each other's bodies with roaming hands. Their kisses grew deeper and longer, and weapons and clothing fell to either side of them.

The princess burned inside, turned, and went down on all fours to await Meleager's entry. She was surprised to feel his hands caressing her ass, back, and waist, but nothing more. Panting in heat, she hissed to him, "Fuck me!"

With that, the prince's hands withdrew, and she moaned in agony when he denied her needs with, at first, only a simple, "No."

"What do you mean, 'No?' Don't you want me?"

"More than anything of which I can dream," Meleager replied. "But, I don't want to merely 'fuck' you... I want to make love to you. You're not a beast, you know. You are a woman... the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever seen."

Atalanta's heart melted. The only women she had ever seen were all much older than she was, on the rare times she ventured to the farmlands near a city at all, and even though most of the shortbeards she knew were all well-spoken, there was something special about the way this one carried himself, both in words and demeanor. He held his hand out to hers, and took it when she rose from the ground. "Your first time should be as a princess, not as an animal," he smiled.

The sun was just beginning its descent while Meleager began making a bed of wildflowers for them in the grass. Atalanta perched nude on a fallen log, watching him prepare a feast for the senses. Once the flowers were set, she eyed him curiously as he put a pot of water onto the fire, then went to fetch his knife. "You're going to cook now?" she asked with an arched brow, her eyes glued to the prince while he sharpened it on a stone.

"You'll see," he smiled at her. Once the tool was honed, he beckoned her to approach. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"I do."

Looking up at her from his knees, Meleager responded, "Then sit," as he patted the bed in front of him. She did, her feet flat on the ground before him on either side of his legs, her pussy slightly spread below him. The prince dipped his fingers into the warm water, then lightly splashed and patted over the long, fine hairs on her legs until they were wet all over. Atalanta sighed in approval the comforting feeling.

Meleager then dipped the blade of his knife into the pot, the water hotter than before, slowly... carefully... shaving her legs. He delicately scraped the hunting knife along the flesh of her limbs until it was smooth to the touch, then caressed over them with his hands. The prince's cock throbbed in excitement; he felt a certain pride in making the lower half of her body as regal as the top.

Atalanta couldn't feel enough of the man's touch as he carefully shaved the hair from her legs. She laid onto her back in the flowers, spreading her legs before him while he shaved her pussy. She was nearly breathless tilting her head back onto her hands while he crawled up her body and shaved her armpits. She sighed when realizing she hadn't felt as naked as this in two hands of summers. When he was finished and had set his knife aside, she wrapped around the prince with both arms and both legs, lifting her face to meet his, lost in the depths of passion.

He removed himself from her face long enough to kiss over her neck and shoulder; she released him from her grip to give room to allow his descent. He flicked his tongue over her stiff nipple, then over to the other, his hands smoothing and massaging over her hips and thighs.

It was obvious, though, that neither could contain themselves any longer, and Meleager fell atop Atalanta's body. Both were simultaneously reaching for his cock to aim it home, and the instant he pushed inside her, both groaned ecstatic release at the feel of one another. The prince steadily paced himself in and out of the princess's body, his steely broadsword of a cock sheathed to the hilt in her wet velvet. The harder he pressed into her, the more she slammed upward to meet him, both desperately craving each other. From beneath her rose the scent of the woodland blossoms, from between her the aroma of their wanton throes. Any creature in the forest certainly could have heard the fervent sounds of their obsession with each other. One did.

Though Artemis could demand the chastity of the woodland deities, of mortals she could not; still, the goddess was disappointed to lose the child over whom she'd secretly watched these twenty years to the ways of men.

The goddess hid from the couple, and did not vanish back to Olympus until she had witnessed Atalanta climax, and then Meleager. The princess squealed in lusty delight, then could hardly breathe at all as every muscle in her body tensed in unknown anticipation. With tremendously sweet release, she cried out in wonder feeling for the first time with a man what she'd grown to love over the past moon feeling alone, her body quivering in its entirety as wave after wave coursed through her. The prince had pulled his cock out from the warmth of the princess, his seed exploding in streams on her body... narrow white ropes of cum stretching upward to her neck, then to her breasts, then her waist, then dripping rivulets over her shorn vulva.

As he fell to lay on top of her, the cooling, sticky liquid pressed between their bodies as the couple playfully kissed and floated softly back to Earth. They explored each other's bodies for the remainder of the night, and made love until neither had the strength to continue. It was near dawn when Meleager laid naked on his back, Atalanta was on her side, resting her head on his chest, when he leaned up to whisper into her ear, "I'd like to present you a gift, if you'd be willing to travel with me for a moon to accept it."

"What gift could you offer me that couldn't be exchanged here? Everything I could ever want is directly beneath me," she said, kissing his nipple.

"The gift isn't here, it's somewhere else. Even so, would you accompany me to accept it?"

"Every moment I could spend with you is a gift from the gods. If it takes two hands and two feet of years to find it, I'll accompany you." The prince fingered gently through the mane of the huntress, gently kissing her forehead, then her face. She sighed softly, "I love you."

Meleager tenderly kissed her mouth, then said, "I'm falling in love with you, too."

Atalanta smiled as she finally went to sleep.

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Over the span of the next ten days, both of them were happier than either could remember. They made their way north through Arcadia and into Achaea, hunting for food when they weren't making love by day, laying together every night. Atalanta loved the feel of the cool breezes against her newly discovered body, and continued the practice of shaving herself whenever she felt hairs trying to reemerge, knowing it excited her lover as much as it did herself.

Each seemed to anticipate the other's moves, not only while having sex, but during the hunt, as well. One would flush for the other, and Meleager was almost as deadly with a bow as Atalanta was. Neither hungered for anything, except each other, and once night fell and camp made, each of the couple would absolutely devour the other.

The princess was ready to return toward Arcadia when they saw the coast of the Gulf of Corinth, but Meleager reminded her he wanted to present her a gift, and that it lie across the sea. She was enamored with the prince to the point that it barely surprised her at all that he'd had a ship waiting in Aegium.

It was the first time Atalanta had ever been on a boat, but Meleager was able to make it seem romantic. There were as many stars at night on the sea as there were atop a mountain. Before morning the couple disembarked at the port of Crisa, and from there, only a day's journey lay ahead of them, he promised, to receive her gift.

The journey was up the side of a mountain, and both found great comfort in how the other was able to scale the face of it. They seemed to do everything well together, fitting in as nicely as his cock into her pussy.

Once on top of the crest, Atalanta saw a temple unlike any she'd seen in the Peloponnese. The princess was bade to strip and bathe in the sacred spring, then was clothed in fine white linens and had her hair brushed luxuriously before entering the Oracle at Delphi. The princess, encouraged by her love to seek her future, stepped alone into the shrine. There, the Priestess foretold:

"A husband will be your bane, O Atalanta;

Flee from the intercourse of husband;

And yet you will not flee, and,

Though living, you will lose yourself."

Atalanta stepped down from the shrine in the manner most others did: contemplative and somewhat confused. "How can a husband hurt me?" she wondered, "And why should I flee from the most wonderful feeling I've ever known?"

Meleager, on seeing the princess descend in her new attire, almost fell over at how beautiful she was, of the light that seemed to radiate from her. As had happened every summer since she could remember, her hair lightened in the sun to blonde and her skin mellowed into a tan as deep the most lavish leather, but the changes that had taken place over the past half-moon were gradual and he hadn't really noticed them. Now her colors were accentuated by the clothing he'd had left for her at the sacred spring, and his heart pounded through his chest. She was about to share her concerns of the Oracle, but the prince put his finger to her lips, letting her know that the exact interpretation of the secret of the Oracle would be for Atalanta alone to discover.

Their ship awaited in Crisa, but instead of sailing for Achaea, they instead made for the small city of Pellene, farther away, Meleager explained, than anyone of consequence would know them. He paid for a room for the night; they ate supper, drank wine, and retired for the evening. The bed inside was softer than anything Atalanta had before known. Though they'd spent nearly every non-hunting moment at each other's side, the princess grew more and more amazed by this handsome man, how every superior thing, his ship, her new clothes, this room, seemed to be at his beck and call. Tonight, she silently acknowledged to herself, his generosity toward her would definitely be rewarded.

Atalanta began the evening bathing him in their room with warm, scented water. Next, she laid him, still damp, onto his back in the feather bed, kissing him sweetly. Kneeling over his hips, she lowered her crossed arms to the hem of her linens, slowly lifting them up over her head. The prince, though he had seen her naked many times so far, stared at her as if this time was his first. Tossing her clothes off the side of the bed and onto the floor, she reached ahead for a small bottle she taken before and hid by the pillows. Her breasts tumbled softly down from her body into Meleager's face.

He remembered the first time he saw them when she was pleasing herself in the woods, recalling then that they seemed smallish then. He realized now the only reason they did so was because she was sitting slightly backward at the time, and even so they were being judged next to the frame of her powerfully built shoulders. Leaning forward like this, though, they were enormously round, full, and sexy. He reached for them with both hands, taking one of her small nipples in between his lips, sucking for dear life.

Atalanta moaned in pleasure for a moment as he did, but realized she wanted this night for him to be the pampered one, and allowed him to suck on the other before kneeling back up before him. Tilting the bottle over his chest, she poured out some of the oil onto him, smoothly pressing it all over, delicately massaging the prince. She scooted down a bit, oiling and rubbing over his belly, then again down and kneading his wonderful legs.

When she moved back up, in the offing before her was his marvelously large, throbbing penis. She fingered a small dribble of oil onto his balls, almost tickling him with the levity of her touch, then gripped around the shaft of his member, slowly pull and stroking it up and down. At first, she teased him with slow, lengthy drags from the palm of her hand, then she grasped more tightly and began tugging harder on his cock. She locked her gaze on his soft, brown eyes, watching the wonder that befell him while she stroked at the same pace at which he usually orgasmed when making love to her.

His eyes strolled down from hers, down to her breasts heaving and jiggling from the motion of her arm, down her trim stomach, down to what he could see of her bare vulva from behind her fist pounding up and down his cock. When he slowly glanced back up at her, Atalanta wore a proud smile down at him, proud of what the prince had thought of her and of the state to which she'd brought him.

She sensed he was nearly ready to climax and didn't want to waste it in her hand, so she swiftly mounted him, riding astride him, letting her body fall on top of him, his engorged cock into the warmth of her pussy. The princess moaned louder than the prince did, needing the relief as much as he did. She placed her hands onto him, kneading his strong chest for balance, while her remaining weight forced down on the balls of the feet just above his hips. Using her powerful legs, she lifted and lowered her body furiously on him, fucking him deep and fast and hard.

She was amazing to witness, and Meleager couldn't hold out much longer, though he wished that he could. He cried out in glory as he exploded within her. Atalanta watched the prince cum, her eyes never leaving his face, seeing his expressions go from lust to ecstasy to release to wonder and awe to love.

Atalanta's eyes returned the same wonder and love back to him as she lowered her body onto his. They kissed deeply, slowly, and peacefully until the touch of each other's bodies brought them peace no longer. It took practically no time at all for Meleager's cock to return to full strength and for the princess to beg, "Fuck me."

This time when she got to her hands and knees on the bed, the prince trembled in lust for her. He found his way behind her body and guided the head of his cock to her slit. He pressed himself within her, then clutched onto her hips before plunging himself the rest of the way in. Atalanta groaned in delight at being taken from behind. The room was filled with the sounds of slapping flesh as his pelvis and hips pounded against her round, soft ass. In the moments when neither of the couple were moaning, they could also hear small, squishing splashes coming from the wetness of her pussy being plugged from his shaft. The entire room smelled of flowers and oil and sex.

Meleager drove into the princess firmly and with more strength, and the harder he fucked her, the more Atalanta screamed for more. He stopped fucking her when she first climaxed, wanting to feel the vibrations of her labia on his cock, then when she was close to catching her breath, the prince took it away again, fucking her wildly. With all the force he could muster, he slammed into her pussy while pulling her body back onto him from her hips. Soon the princess was out of control, and Meleager was sliding in and out of her pussy, her upper body violently rocking back and forth at the prince's whim. Again and again she called out in orgasmic pleasure as her belly and womb imploded in waves of cum. Between climaxes, she whimpered for more; the mighty huntress was being dominated by the only man to whom she'd ever submit.

The prince realized the exchange of power between the couple wasn't to last much longer, though, when he felt the familiar, boiling tingle growing within his scrotum. Pulling out at the last conceivable moment, his cock erupted all over her ass. Before he had the chance to soothingly rub it into her skin, Atalanta had turned over, sat up, wrapping her arms around him, and laid her face adoringly against Meleager's chest.

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Meleager and Atalanta said their goodbyes the following morning... the prince said he had to take care of things in Calydon after having been gone for almost an entire moon; the princess said she wished to take advantage of the summer to prepare for the winter ahead. They were apart for a moon, then together for the next, happily hunting, laughing, talking, and making love together. They had one more moon apart from each other, and yet one final one together in the autumn, spent in the same manner as the two glorious ones they'd shared. Both worked to help Atalanta store food and supplies for the winter. Atalanta never asked to winter in Calydon or to see the kingdom's palace; he never offered.

Still, she couldn't help after settling into her mother bear's cave and covering herself in furs when staring into the fire, wondering what in the names of the gods the Oracle meant.