Actually, I'm not done.
Back with that lovely cumdrunk Ody, Olympus' wonderful little whore, even when Penelope gets him home, he's still not free.
For one thing, the sound of thunderstorms makes him unbearably horny, the feeling of the static in the air practically wiping his mind with need. Occasionally, he'll find himself having wandered into the palace's temple to Zeus, falling to his knees and grinding against the stone, longing for the electric touch of the king of the gods.
And for another, those brands are still there.
He's doing important diplomatic things one day, the kings of other city states gathered around doing Diplomacy Stuff, and Odysseus is giving one of his speeches, when suddenly he feels a phantom hand around his cock, his breath hitching, and he staggers, steadying himself against the table, feeling the invisible hand gently stroke him, fingers toying at the tip.
Eurylocus asks what's wrong, as does one of the other kings, but he just shakes his head and tries to carry on. Unfortunately, he only makes it another few words before he feels the hand be replaced with what feels like insides, and something achingly familiar breech his ass.
His knees buckle and he falls to the ground, a strangled groan slipping past his lips, Eurylocus helping him back to his feet. One of the other kings scoffs, but Eury scolds him, saying that an old war wound is bothering Odysseus, and leads his friend out and to his and Penelope's room as Ody can barely walk with the feeling of a huge cock roughly fucking him, making his knees shake.
Ody collapses into his wedding bed, gripping the sheets tightly, moans and curses flooding from his mouth as he writhes in pleasure, the knowledge that all of those kings saw him, that at least some of them might know what happened, only serving to make him so much more aroused.
He feels the bed sink beside him, feels someone there, and his hands scrabble for them, desperately needing something physical, something solid, not registering anything he's seeing as his mind becomes more and more filled with a familiar fog, pulling himself on top of them as he babbles pleas for... something. In this state, he doesn't know what he needs, he just Needs.
After a moment, he feels himself be picked up, feels himself moved, as hands stray up his body and under his robes, feels another's mouth against his, his legs wrapping against the other person's waist, hips moving on their own, his cock almost burning with need.
He's set down on another surface, a harder one, a colder one, as he and the other person clumsily undress each other, Ody's hands shaking as whichever god he was feeling grew rougher, the thrusting getting faster, the angle changing, the phantom cock hitting even deeper parts of him.
He hears a deep, rich voice in his ear, one he almost recognizes, saying something he can't quite hear through his own moans and the thundering of his heart, but he doesn't care; he clings to the firm body pressed against him like it's a lifeline as he feels the cock inside him grow, fucking him harder, and feels a mortal-sized, and very physical, cock resting against his ass.
Odysseus reaches back, desperately scrambling to take hold of the firm member, and, almost expertly, positions it at his entrance, lowering himself onto it with a loud moan and eagerly beginning to fuck himself on it, that deep voice gasping and groaning in his ear.
Though the feeling inside him is unchanged, he feels the other person's hips begin to move, bumping against his, and feels their hands at his waist, gripping onto him tightly in a way that would probably leave bruises. He rests his head against the crook of their neck, panting and moaning as he feels the thrusting of the phantom cock inside him become more and more irregular, his hips moving more and more desperately, hearing the other person's moans grow louder, almost matching his own.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of agonizing pleasure, Odysseus feels a familiar heat blossom inside him as both the phantom and physical cocks release their spend, his own climax quickly following, painting both their chests with his seed.
As consciousness rapidly slips through his fingers, Odysseus feels his ass become empty as the cocks pull out, and feels the other person, whoever they were, wrap something soft and cool around his naked body with tender and gentle touches, and lay a soft kiss on his forehead, as sleep finally takes him.
~ 🌶
i kept forgetting to post this bc every time i read it my peantis would have a stroke
