by J. Michael Kulyk
Excerpt:
Chapter Five
�2003
Poet For Hire �2003
Thelonius awoke in his room, and as he opened his eyes, he was relieved to find it empty, and now night. And he held his forehead, and tried to sit up. It proved an impossible task, his head was heavy with pulsing pain, and his muscles immensely sore from horseback riding combined with soreness from his flu. He noticed a tray of food to his right on a golden nightstand. With much effort, he managed to reach his orange juice and drank it down.
He sat in a daze remembering bitterly, the day's hunt. He couldn't push out the haunting thoughts of the centaur's face, and the recoiled toes of the ill-fated servant. Had she been hunted for breaking the rules? he thought. He then remembered with warmth the abysmal eyes of Angelina, his soul comfort among his chaotic predicament. He wished at the moment for her presence, and he muttered aloud, "O, Angelina. O, sweet Angelina."
He then heard a stir in the dark corner of his room. The Amazonian girth of the lithe elegant figure of Artemis stood towering above him. She had a heated, stoic, stare on her face. She then asked, "Who's this you call out for?"
Thelonius startled and cursing himself for not seeing, or sensing her presence, "Damn, where'd you come from?"
She answered, but didn't let him dodge her question, "I was awaiting your recovery. Who's this Angelina?"
Thelonius lied, "She was my girlfriend back in Bohemia."
Artemis was curious, "Was she a good lover?"
Thelonius surprised at her emerging sexual curiosity, replied, "What does it matter to the 'Virgin Goddess of the Hunt'?"
"I have never had the fortune to love, well, at least not physically."
Thelonius was nervous by her change in expression, and said, "I can't see why. You're smashingly gorgeous. I mean-"
"Really?" she interrupted, "How so?" she asked the curs`ed question.
Thelonius now decided to choose his words carefully. Come on, I'm a Poet, there's got to be some way to get through this. "Well, Artemis, you see- you're about, what... twenty-eight years old- and your figure is quite striking. You should have no troubles finding a- well, what I mean is- well, why are you in such a rush? An exquisitely beautiful girl like you should save yourself for someone right, you know. Someone, god I hate this expression- special," the Poet said realizing he started to dig a hole and continued, "Besides, sex is often overrated," he lied.
As she stepped into the dim light, Thelonius noticed she was scantily clad, and it crossed his mind, that perhaps she had planned on this evening to become the formerly known "Virgin Goddess of the Hunt".
She was wearing a skirt, more like a cloth, tied around her shapely hips, and a white tunic that clung tight to her bra-less heavenly breasts. Thelonius thanked his stars her skirt extended down to her ankles; but on second thought, it drove him crazy. Her thin ankles, and beautifully shaped bare feet made him realize, even in his fevered state, that something below his neck still functioned.
She moved to sit on the bed, and he discovered that her skirt indeed had a lengthy slit cut well up to the inner thigh, which was skillfully revealed as she sat. She took both her hands and threw back her long hair that flowed luxuriously down her breasts, only just before, each batch of tresses being split by her protruding nipples. Thelonius groaned as she threw her silky black hair behind her. Her head subtly tipped back displaying her milky slender, yet toned neck, and her divine clavicles.
Then, holding her heavy hair with one hand, she cupped the other around Thelonius' black and blue jaw, bent down and placed an ever so meltingly soft kiss upon his lips. Her lips were full and her mouth wide, and as she leaned down to deliver the affectionate gesture, her breasts scathed Thelonius' naked chest. She lifted herself up to read the rapturous expression on Thelonius' face. She proceeded to straddle the Poet, a different sort of straddle than she did her horse. Her slitted skirt now pushed behind her, and her bare torso and underwareless pelvic section rested just below the Poet's shaft. Merely a thin sheet barriered between his excited region, and her moist area. He felt a warmth down there, as he held his breath, half in fright, and half in excitement.
Artemis began, shyly, to buck back and forth in rhythmic waves, Thelonius clinging tight to the sheets, to keep her from possibly removing them. Her eyes were closed in gentle sensuous rapture, and she was breathing quite audibly in long draws of her lungs, as her breasts moved like mighty alps up and down. She gyrated there upon the excited Poet for a few minutes. Thelonius, now sensing a growing passion, superhumanly reached up his arms to hold her still before it went too far. It snapped her out of her reverie, and slowed the sexual exploration. She looked longingly at him, and asked, swooning, "O, allow me to remove your sheets, please."
Thelonius beckoned, equally pleadingly as well, "Artemis, this is not to be. You are to remain a virgin. You know the consequences of intercourse. Now think! Both of us shall be killed."
She seemed not to care, she was in heat, and replied, still breathing heavily, practically panting, "I don't care- Father will never figure out- we don't have to tell him."
"But I have a fever, and I can't even move anyhow, my body's too sore."
She laughed lustily, a deep laugh, sexy and heavy, "All the better, Apollo."
He recoiled at this new name, but ignored it, and said firmly, "Artemis. Please, get off of me. This is not to be."
She grabbed his excited unit, and stroked as she said, "Then why are you still excited if you don't want to make love to me?"
He replied, "It's not that I don't want to make passionate love to you, which I could certainly do- aptly and gently- it's just that I can't because my head hurts, and my body throbs. I simply wouldn't do the incredible act justice. For the love of God, you must withdraw!"
There were footsteps approaching, and broken from her spell, Artemis with speed like a panther dismounted, and smoothed her outfit. The door opened and Hermes stood there.
Artemis followed Hermes' gaze to the pitched bivouac in Thelonius' pelvic region, and smiled broadly, even noticing the moist residue on the sheets just above it, Hermes didn't ask. Instead he said, "I see that you and your friend are wide awake." Thelonius blushed not knowing how to interpret the comment.
Hermes' entrance quickly subdued Thelonius' excitement, and he stuck a thermometer in his mouth. Hermes' eyebrow raised to his sister, and she had a guilty smirk hidden behind her hand. He then looked at the motionless Thelonius who was cross-eyed, trying to see the mercury rise, and knew his already high temperature would be grossly inaccurate.
Hermes then said, "That's quite a bruise you have on your jaw, brother."
Artemis then spoke up repressing a laugh, "He was kicked by his own horse during the hunt."
Hermes did not smile, and continued, "Nonetheless, you did get the kill, well done. Zeus wanted me to express his pleasure with you. Despite the mild concussion you acquired, and the fever that ensued, he wants me to get you better for the ceremony tomorrow. I realize that you must be quite sore." Hermes pulled out the thermometer and turned it in his fingers to the light.
Thelonius replied, "Yes, I am very sore." As he said this he was more pronouncing it to Artemis rather than to his inquirer.
Hermes, hmmmed, and said, "One-hundred." He then clicked his teeth. He then said, "Let's have a look at that hand." He lifted Thelonius' bandaged left hand and unwrapped it. He gestured for Artemis to reach into his kit and get out fresh cloth.
Thelonius' hand looked quite better than it did, though lashed, and a little swollen. Hermes said as Artemis gave him a new strip of bandage, "It will get better."
Artemis pressed her palms together in exaggerated relief, and to this, Hermes gestured for her to egress. She did so reluctantly. He looked at the wandering eyes of Thelonius who was trying not to reveal any guilt. The awkward feeling finally caused the Poet's eyes to meet the wing`ed footsman's.
Thelonius met the reproachful gaze saying, "What?"
"You know what. Did anything happen just before I walked in? I saw your member's posture, and the wet spot, obviously in the shape of a fold. I wasn't born yesterday."
"I didn't allow it, Hermes. I swear, nothing deflowering occurred. Do you think I'm crazy? I know the consequences, but that woman is off the hook- I may need your help in keeping her away. Her curiosity is rampant!"
"What happened during that hunt? Whatever it was, somehow you managed to turn her on. I've never seen her behave like this. It could prove to be very dangerous."
There was a silence between the two as Hermes stood looking out the window into the glowing courtyard.
Thelonius decided to question the wily god about the hunt, "Hermes, how?"
Not turning around he said, "How, what?"
"How in the world was a centaur roaming around in the woods out there? There's no such thing as centaurs. How did it come to be?" asked Thelonius.
Hermes replied, "It's like I said. This is Olympia. Here is where myth reigns."
"That's not good enough."
Hermes turned around and snapped, "Well, it has to be good enough! Because that's the way it is! I entreat you to accept it as we all do. There is no other way!"
"No other way? I'm quite confused about this whole situation."
"As you should be, for gods' sakes. You have a fever, and mild concussion. Just gets some rest. Tomorrow, even if you're still ill, is a big day for you. I suggest you ride it out, and take it as a blessing, Apollo." With this he took his leave.