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Goddess in Training
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Goddess in Training
By
Terry Spear
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Terry Spear on Smashwords
Goddess in Training
Copyright © 2010 by Terry Spear
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DEDICATION
To the Greeks and Romans who shared their wonderful mythologies with the world.
***
Present Day, Mount Olympus, Home of the Greek Gods and Goddesses
“Zeus, my husband, god of all gods and goddesses, ruler of Mount Olympus and my heart, you are mistaken when you say satisfaction can be guaranteed when pleasuring a woman—strictly a physical state of being. That a man and a woman need not share a deeper love for one another to be totally satisfied, and that a marriage that binds them forever is unnecessary.” Hera stroked his curly gray hair and nipped at his ear, her fingers trailing down his naked chest.
Zeus leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek, his hands touching her bare shoulder in whisper soft caresses. “Hera, goddess of marriage and married women, and my beautiful wife, you are wrong.” He gave her one of his dimpled smug smiles. “Whether love exists or not between a man and woman, the sexual act is all that is required between mortal and immortals alike to fulfill the need connecting them. Take Asarian as a prime example. As demi-god of pleasure, he imparts sexual gratification to women who have never before experienced such a wonder. Neither he nor they fall in love. ‘Tis a lustful joining of the bodies, and both male and female are totally satiated, blissfully satisfied in the end. It is an experience they cherish forevermore. What more could we wish for?”
She nuzzled her face against Zeus’s broad, bare shoulder. “But ‘tis not a joining of the souls. The act alone does not complete them. The sexual intrigue does excite the couple for the moment, true. But the next morning, the woman has doubts. Regrets. She feels used, degraded. A man mayhap is just as content, satisfying his sexual urges. But ‘tis the long-term commitment which makes the couple whole.” Hera wound a golden curl around her finger, considering her husband’s words, irritated that he oft had trysts with mortals and immortals alike either through trickery or by capturing their hearts and had done so only this morning with some Scottish lass while Hera visited with her maids. She sighed deeply, revenge sweet whenever she took these women to task. Walking over to the Pool of Visions, she peered into the crystal clear water and swept her finger in circles in the warm liquid.
Zeus chuckled darkly. “So it will be a contest of wills again, my love.”
“Aye.” She studied the images of women in various occupations all over the world—soldiers, doctors, store clerks, teachers, nurses…a librarian. Too cliché.
For three hours, she considered hundreds of thousands of candidates. In the end, she came back to the librarian, petite, pretty in a boring way, unwed, and best of all…
Hera smiled. A twenty-six-year-old virgin. “The librarian is my choice.” She folded her arms, totally smug. “Now, my husband, find a man who will give her pleasure, that will make her complete without either of them falling in love.”
Zeus pulled Hera into his arms and moved his lips over hers in a searing kiss. “Asarian will do my bidding.”
“Nay, my husband. Her lover should be a mortal like her.”
“You stated a woman would not be content with a man giving her just sexual fulfillment. What better choice is there than Asarian, god of pleasure, who can give a woman an orgasm with merely a smile? If she is happy, then I am right.”
“Nay.”
Zeus trailed kisses down Hera’s neck and slid his fingers underneath her silk gown, criss-crossed over her breasts. Instantly, her nipples tightened with his touch, sending a tingling all the way to her toes.
Zeus smiled. “She will be a demi-goddess then, as Asarian is a demi-god.”
“All right. What shall she be the goddess of?”
He slipped Hera’s gown off her shoulders, baring her breasts as the shimmering silk caught on her golden belt. His fingers traced her swollen nipples, sending fiery liquid shooting through every inch of her. “Your choice, love,” he whispered against her ear.
“Goddess of fertility,” she mewed, her hands struggling to remove Zeus’s belt.
“Goddess of fertility?” He quirked a silver brow. “A virgin?” He laughed. “As you wish. Asarian will give the woman pleasure like she has never felt before, but such as is his nature, he will not fall in love, and he will enjoy the experience completely. The young woman will feel likewise, only she will bring fertility to childless couples after the task is done.”
“And if they fall in love?” Hera tossed his belt to a velvet-covered bench.
Zeus unfastened her belt and her gown slid to the floor in a puddle of pale blue silk. He shrugged a shoulder, his gaze taking in her appearance, admiration evident. “It will not happen.”
“But if it does?” She raised a brow and tugged his toga past his hips. God of gods he was the perfect male specimen, his shaft rigid with eagerness, his blue eyes smiling with wickedness.
He lifted her in his arms and stalked toward the Pool of Pleasure. “Then their lives will be their own. No interference from either of us, forever more.”
“Forever is a very long time, my husband.”
He stepped into the warm, silky aqua water with her. “No more words about it, my goddess of the heart. Time to show me how much you love me.”
***
The task Asarian, demigod of pleasure, was an interesting one, and as always, when his king asked it of him, Asarian had every intention of doing what he bid. In this case, he stalked into a small town library in south Texas, wearing denim shorts and nothing else, as Zeus advised him.
“Wear as little as you can to stir up the frigid woman. You can do it with your handsome looks and just a smile. Melt her to the icy core,” Zeus had recommended. “Convince her to accept your offer of a night of pleasure as you have done with countless other women and win my favor.”
Asarian had it in mind to do it, too. One look at the lady through the Pool of Visions, though plain of features--dull blond hair, a small pert nose, petite of stature, a face a bit mousy—large brown eyes and a curvy body well compensated for her other simple attributes. Still, she did not hold a candle to Hera’s beauty, yet he would warm the librarian’s frigid body with his pleasurable touch and teach her the gift a man could bestow upon her. From then on, she would never again wish to hide her womanly virtues.
The goddess of marriage had implored him, “The lady is untried, use finesse and show her you can be more than just a one-night love affair. Show her what a man has to offer. Should be a difficult challenge to win, but not impossible for one as gifted as you.”
Asarian sighed, contemplating the task before him—though he wished to please Hera—she would always hold his heart hostage. How could any woman compare? Yet, the notion Hera wished him to win the challenge, nagged at him. He would do anything to please her, but the goddess wanted him to ensnare the woman’s heart, and give his own to her, which he could never do. Love the ladies, pleasure them, but not with his heart—that was the only way he could manage to remain devoted to his queen, his heart intact. Forever pledged to her, his first and only true love. Though he’d never pleasured her, he’d lusted after her, the woman charmingly seductive in her own right.
But as soon as Asarian entered the reading room where Lisandra Atkinson read to a bunch of children, he knew there’d be trouble. Her brown eyes, already strikingly big, widened even further. The words she’d read from the book instantly died on her tongue, and her gaze shifted from his black hair hanging loose at his shoulders, to his naked chest, down to his shorts, all the way to his bare feet.
The way she appraised him made his shaft jump with intrigue. How the mousy woman could do that to him with just a look was unfathomable.
Twelve children of various ages, all young, stared at him, too, and for an instant, he felt embarrassed for the intrusion. Him, the god of pleasure. He couldn’t remember a time in his life he’d ever felt that way.
Lisandra swallowed hard, then rose from the tiny chair she was sitting on that looked to be designed for one of the cross-legged children on the floor. “I’m…I’m afraid you can’t be in the library without wearing shoes and a shirt.”
His lips curved up. He’d seen the sign on the library door. No shirt, no shoes, no service. But he intended to provide the service. The fewer clothes, the better. “I had naught else to wear, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly, his eyes focused on hers. ‘Twas the way to gain a woman’s intrigue.
She was supposed to look away demurely, cheeks flushed, but then again look at him, to show how interested she truly w
as in him. Or, hold his gaze and bold-faced ask him to join her at the nearest bar for a drink after work. One or the other. She did neither.
Instead, her expression turned into a myriad of emotions ranging from horror and disbelief to compassion. He read women’s feelings well, ‘twas why he was so attuned to pleasure them with the proper skill. But he wasn’t sure how to handle this woman one bit.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Mister…”
He offered his hand. “Asarian. Please, call me by my given name.” Though he had only the one, but no lady ever seemed to mind. Most he’d charmed hadn’t even cared he had a name.
She took his hand to shake, but he captured her small-boned fingers and raised them to his lips and kissed. It should have turned her knees to jelly. Instead, he was the one overpowered by her scent, her sweetness. The smell of lavender scented her skin, and at once he wished to get on with the seduction, anywhere but here in front of an audience of young mortals. However, Zeus had commanded he bring Lisandra to Mount Olympus, the perfect place for lovers to mix.
Her skin blushed from her upturned face to her small sandaled feet. She pulled her hand free and cleared her throat. “I’m Lisandra Atkinson and the head librarian here. Uhm, we have the Salvation Army next door. Perhaps you could go there to…” Her eyes glanced down at his shorts and shot back up to his gaze. Did she see how willing he was to have her?
He tried to remain serious, though he was certain his eyes sparkled with humor. Ladies oft said that about him.
“Do…do you have any money?”
Money? He had no need of money. Best to humble himself. He motioned to the children. “I wished to hear you read to the small ones. Would you mind my listening too terribly much?”
“But…but our policy here is that everyone must be properly clothed and…”
He folded his arms. “I have no shirt or shoes.” It wasn’t the first time Zeus had steered him wrong.
She bit her lip, like he wished to do with a gentle nip, then she said to the children, “I’ll be right back.”
The kids stared up at him in awe. He smiled, turning to watch Lisandra’s denim skirt swishing mid-calf, her ass wiggling suggestively. She would be his without a doubt, when the silver sphere rose in all its glory this very eve in the house of the gods.
“Where are you from?” a wide-eyed, brown-skinned girl asked. She looked like a youthful version of the serving girl to an Egyptian princess he had once pleasured.
“Mount Olympus. And you?”
The girl giggled. “From right here.”
“Oh, the library.”
The children all laughed.
Lisandra walked back into the room carrying a T-shirt against her silk-clothed breasts that jiggled with her hurried step. Before long, he had every intention of suckling on the taut nipples that strained for release against the hint of a lacy bra.
She glanced at the giggling children and seemed pleased Asarian had entertained them. “Here,” she said, offering the pale blue shirt to him, embossed with red hearts. “It’s for a library fund drive to support the children’s library. We’re supposed to charge for them, and the participants are to walk and encourage businesses to support the effort. But we always have a few extras for volunteers.”
“I will volunteer to do anything for you,” he said most sincerely. She smiled, and the look was as sexy as any siren’s. Even Aphrodite, goddess of love, could take a hint or two from the innocent sensuality of the mere mortal.
Taking the cotton fabric, he brushed his fingers against hers, figuring to send a sizzling sensation through the nerve endings in her skin, to trigger the ache in her groin that already plagued his own. For an instant, she seemed shocked. He smiled. It had worked, only his shorts had grown increasingly tight, nearly strangling him.
“I can’t do anything about your feet,” she said, then retook her seat. “If anyone complains, you’ll have to leave the library.”
“We won’t,” a redheaded, freckle-faced boy enthusiastically said, grinning. The other children quickly agreed verbally or with exaggerated nods.
Though he had nothing against children, as god of pleasure he’d never concerned himself with them, only to think that the girls would some day grow to be his students when they reached an acceptable age. But it amused him to be so well-liked by the small ones, and it seemed to even please the librarian more, which could only help to aid his quest.
Lisandra motioned for Asarian to sit on one of the chairs situated on the outskirts of the room, but instead he sat down on the floor, cross-legged, just like the children. If they could garner her attention in such a manner, mayhap he could, too.
Her mouth lifted at the corners, full pink lips that glistened with some kind of gloss that intrigued him to no end. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, and he wondered then how he was going to get the woman to agree to go with him to Mt. Olympus. It would be so easy to pleasure her here, amongst the dusty books of learning, a place that seemed to capture her heart, of course, after the children and other patrons left for the day. But Zeus insisted that if he won the challenge, the lady would become the goddess of fertility and needed to see who her rulers would be on Mt. Olympus beforehand. Hera insisted also, saying that it was where she fell in love with Zeus, and if her plan were to succeed, Asarian would have to make love to Lisandra there.
But she didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who cast aside her inhibitions and did whatever she felt like. Not like some of his conquests, one of whom joined him in a deep-sea cave after they scuba dove to the hidden spot, and another who made love to him in a cruise ship’s swimming pool with the water rising and falling while the ship tilted on the high seas, while most of the passengers slept. This woman, if he could even bed her, would more than likely opt for the sanctity of a bed, the first time around.
But, maybe not. Only time would tell.
***
Ohmigod, he was hot!!! Even though the air conditioner was always on way too high in the big meeting room, Lisandra wanted to fan herself to alleviate the effect of the hot flashes that were flooding her body.
How could the man look so devilishly appealing in the one instance and so sweetly innocent in the next? Sitting with the children, fascinated with her story, just like the children were, he appeared to be just one of the kids. Thoroughly enjoying himself.
She might have thought he was childlike if it wasn’t for the sinful way he eyed her clothes, which for a librarian were perfectly—well, straight-laced. But the way he looked at them made her feel as though she was half dressed, wearing one of her skimpy baby doll nighties—see-through, perfect for muggy summer nights. And it wasn’t just her clothes he considered as if he saw right through them, but the way he studied her face, her eyes, her lips and every word she spoke, as if her voice had some kind of mesmerizing quality.
Well, some did say she had a way with words, a way that kept the children entertained and quiet with her hypnotic voice. Unlike other library storytellers who resorted to banging on drums, and dancing or making strange faces to make the children laugh. But her way was different as she wove her story, catching the children up in them as if she waved a magic wand and enchanted them.
And the man, too. Who sat in awe. He looked like the kind of man who was not awed by much and the notion made her smile. As soon as she did, his eyes caught her expression, and he smiled, too, but not in a sweet way. More devious, as if he’d ensnared her instead this time.
“And they lived happily ever after,” she whispered, her gaze focused on the man’s compelling eyes.
Soon families were ushering their children out of the room, breaking the spell, and Lisandra tried to keep focused on the families and not on the man with the bare feet, who remained in the room behind her somewhere.
Her co-worker hollered, “I’m shutting off the lights. Are you coming?”
“Be there in a minute. Go ahead and leave.” Which she knew was a mistake as soon as she said the words. The hunk of a man was already pulling off the T-shirt, exposing his gorgeous abs as if he were getting ready for a love-fest.
With her.
Ha!