Tiros woke suddenly, without knowing why.

He'd sent the slave away hours before, aware that she wasn't comfortable in his bed, despite enjoying her encounter with him. They were mostly like that, he thought. Not that he minded. He liked to sleep alone. It was just the bit beforehand that he liked company for. His tastes were a little different from the norm, though. He didn't like to force himself on his women, though he had the right. He liked to ensure that they got their pleasure as he got his. Women, unused to his attitude, flocked to his side. He took advantage of that whenever he could, and Greek society gave him lots of opportunity.

Thinking now of the young slave girl, and how her eyes screwed up as he thrust in her, his phallus stirred beneath the covers, ready again for its accustomed duties. It stiffened, gaining size as he thought of her further. Memories of her mouth around him, her tongue sliding over his skin and the sweet moans from her throat as he thrust – the memories gently stiffened him until he felt a need to do something about it. Not wanting to bother to find another partner so late, Tiros lay back and started to stroke himself. He didn't do this often, but he liked the freedom to think only of himself, of his own pleasure, from time to time.

The slave girl, whose name he never knew, most enjoyed when he took her from behind though, crouched on hands and knees on the bed, his hardness buried deep within her, his hands on her breasts, hers just above his rod.

She had fumbled, with an appalling lack of rhythm but startling desperation, at herself, panting and moaning, sweating beneath him. He'd taken her hands away, and placed them on her breasts, and taken over the stimulation further down with his own fingers, spreading and kneading her sopping groin gently for a time, before quickly sliding his fingertips lightly over her most sensitive parts, feeling her shiver with approaching climax. All the time he was thrusting slowly with his hips, burying himself deep inside her tightness, withdrawing almost completely, and sliding in with a slippery, hot, almost frictionless motion in time to the mindless swaying of her haunches.

He repeated the cycle of slow and swift stimulation again and again, never quite letting her reach her climax, until he sensed that she could take no more. He then removed his hands to caress the small of her back, changing his angle of entry slightly, and sped up his thrusts. He felt and heard her release beneath him, her muscles tightening around him, a deep groan escaping from her mouth. As her small opening clamped harder, and her body shook with the force of her climax, he gave in to the pressure, and released his seed deep within her, thrusting hard against her, grunting with satisfaction as they collapsed, hot, wet, and released, on the bed.

The recent memories stirred him strongly, and he removed the covers, spat on his hand to lubricate things, and started to stroke his strong hands up and down, eyes closed, pretending the slave's mouth, or her other opening, was around his cock. He took his time, increasing and decreasing the pressure, speeding up and slowing down, reliving his favourite encounters. A montage of images passed through his mind: slaves, rich girls, even royalty. All behaved in a similar way once naked, he thought, smiling to himself.

Tiros was almost in a world of his own now, his naked browned body lying back on the bedding, his hand stroking almost frantically, his mind bringing up his most erotic memories, and he was almost ready. The smell of the earlier encounter, still on his unwashed cock, drifted to his nose, and that was enough. He stroked now as fast as he could, and was just about to orgasm when a shadow passed over him.

He stopped suddenly, cock in hand, and opened his eyes. There, standing in the room was another woman. Not the slave he'd had earlier. Not anyone he'd seen before. There was something about this woman. As he lay there, unashamed of his activity, he watched what she was doing.

Her tall, strong body was walking slowly around his raised bed, her firm breasts swaying just a little as she walked, and she was chanting quietly. Curly red hair surrounded her head and flowed down over her lightly freckled shoulders. What she was saying sounded vaguely familiar, even though Tiros could only hear the pattern of her speech, rather than the words themselves. He did nothing, and lay and watched the woman about her chanting, until she lifted a small vial in front of her chest, and proceeded to remove the top.

"Hold woman. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just... you can see me?"

"Of course I can see you. You are in my room. What do you want?"

"Oh, no, you shouldn't be able to..."

"Who are you, woman?" Tiros enquired. "You have interrupted my sleep. What do you want here? How did you get in?"

"Now hold on. You cannot talk to me like that."

"Know your place, woman. Have you been sent, as a concubine?"

"I have not! "

"Well then, go."

"I warn you, Tiros you should not speak with me this way."

"You have me at an advantage, woman. Tell me the name of your father."

"I will not."

"You must, by law."

"I follow not your laws Tiros. I am above them."

"Above?"

"I ... should not have said that."

"Tell me your name then."

"I am... I am Nemesis."

"Nemesis, you say, woman?"

"Yes Tiros. Nemesis."

"Nemesis the Goddess...?"

"Yes."

"Of retribution?"

"The same, Tiros."

"You are not. You are a false Nemesis. How did you get into my house?"

"Why do you say I am false?"

"Goddesses don't just drop in, in the middle of the night, and if you were really Nemesis, rather than a woman with damage to her head, then I would not be able to see you, unless you willed it."

"Well then... I willed it."

"You did not, woman of lies. You showed surprise when I first spoke."

"I thought you were asleep, Tiros of little trust."

"You are not Nemesis. I fear you not."

"Oh, it isn't supposed to work like this. Suppose I admit, for the sake of completion, to not being Nemesis. Can we finish this?"

"Tell me who you are then."

The woman paused then, looking directly at Tiros for the first time. "My name is Acacia."

"Acacia, why do you pretend to be Nemesis?"

"I am her... stand in."

"A stand in? For a Goddess? Would you be a Goddess yourself then, Acacia?" He was smiling at her now, his fear gone.

"You doubt me?"

"You have already lied once."

"It's complicated. I am... in training."

"For Godhood?"

"Yes. In a way."

"Should I be amused, or fearful, powerful Acacia?"

"Tiros, I do not joke with you. I have been sent, in place of Nemesis, to see you."

"Why could not Nemesis come herself?"

"She is... busy."

"Busy?"

"With Zeus."

"No."

"Yes. I speak truthfully."

"Have you proof, little Acacia?"

"Of my identity?"

"Of your semi-Godhood."

"I have... Oh, I have this vial."

"And what is in it?"

"A potion, mortal Tiros." She was bolder now, remembering her task.

"A love potion, perhaps? You are indeed fair, Goddess Acacia!"

"No Tiros. This is not a matter for laughter or romance. This potion has been sent by Nemesis. I was to apply it to your bare skin, as you..."

"Stroked myself, Acacia?"

"Yes. As you stroked yourself."

"You like to watch?"

"It is a duty Tiros, nothing more."

"I doubt that. Tell me what the potion does, Goddess, and then perhaps we can discuss more entertaining matters."

"I think you would not wish to converse, after."

"I would not? What then does the potion provide?"

"Retribution, young mortal."

"Pray, retribution for what? And you don't look so old, yourself."

"I am, as I told you..."

"Yes, yes. A Goddess. Yes."

"... a trainee Goddess, of sorts. Age is not easy to determine."

"How then, should I address you?" The smirk took the seriousness away from the impertinent question.

"You shouldn't need to address me at all, Tiros. You should not even know I am here. But continue with 'Acacia'. I care not for formality."

"So do you often spend nighttimes ogling excited men?"

"No. Never before."

"Never?"

"No. I was sent because Nemesis was unavailable. I'm no longer sure I can do this."

"You cannot? Why? You did not tell what effect the potion has."

"I... now I have met you. Seen you. Spoken with you. Watched you..."

"Watched me?"

"Watched you ... you know."

"Oh. You are embarrassed?"

"No. Yes. A little."

"I am sorry. I wasn't expecting a Goddess to show up, or I would have waited."

"You mock me now."

"No. Do Goddesses get cold, Acacia?"

"I do."

"You could..."

"I could not."

"... sit on the bed, and talk some more."

"Oh. I misread your intentions, Tiros."

"Not really Acacia. But sit and talk."

"You would wish to behave otherwise?"

"You are a beautiful woman, Acacia."

"I came here to ruin your life, Tiros."

"Then the least you can do is sit and talk to me. Perhaps you can explain?"

"I will sit down here. Cover yourself up."

"You find me unattractive, Acacia?"

"I find you... distracting. I must explain the potion."

"Explain then. I will not distract you again. Yet."

"You have led a charmed life thus far, Tiros. You have money. You are popular. You are able to influence your surroundings. I hear you have spent time with many beautiful women. You also are beautiful. You are well endowed."

"Endowed?"

"Your phallus."

"Oh. Thank you."

"If I pour the vial contents on you, all of this will change."

"Change in what way? Why would you wish to do this?"

"I do not wish it, Tiros. I would not harm you."

"Then why did you come to me?"

"I was ordered to. You would not understand."

"Nemesis sent you?"

"Yes. Though not directly."

"And you were to pour the potion on me?"

"I was, Tiros. I would have done so, except I was distracted."

"How?"

"I did not know how it would look, for you to be... excited. I was told to do it then, because you would be unlikely to notice the oil."

"That distracted you?"

"I confess it did."

"Perhaps we could come to an arrangement?"

"Of what sort? You are brave, mortal, bargaining with a Goddess."

"Fortune smiles on the courageous, Goddess. Perhaps, if I were to become... excited... again, you could go, forgetting the anointing?"

"You would show me?"

"You could help."

"In what way, brave mortal?"

"Well, beautiful naked women are exciting. Perhaps you could kiss me?"

"You would kiss a Goddess?"

"I would kiss you."

"I think you would not, Tiros. I should remain seated here."

"Why would I not, Acacia? You are built like a Goddess. You have beautiful breasts, beautiful eyes. Your lips are very inviting."

"I... I have never..."

"Never?"

"No. I have kissed, but not... in excitement. I would not know how to behave correctly."

"Never?"

"No."

"Are you then, training to be a virgin Goddess?"

"No. Must you ask these things?"

"If you would kiss me, I might stop."

"I could not."

"You could, should you choose to. You are, you said, Goddess."

"I am..."

"Yes, Acacia. In training. I understand. Come over here and kiss me."

"I cannot."

"Then I shall come over to you."

"I can choose not to stop you."

"Ah. You wish it then?"

"You would have to take that step to know."

"I fear you not, Goddess Acacia. Prepare."

"You need not fear me, mortal."

Tiros stood up from the platform, and walked over to where Acacia sat nervously. His hands touched her shoulders first, and she tipped her head up, flicking her ginger curls back, and smiled. Without another word being said, Tiros lowered his face to hers, and lightly touched his lips between her eyebrows, and then again, on the bridge of her small nose. One more, on the very tip of her nose, and his lips were suddenly on hers, the mortal and immortal skin pulsing together, and despite her inexperience, Acacia realised that she knew what to do.

As Tiros stroked her upper back and shoulders, Acacia lost herself within his embrace, her lips exploring his, their tongues, suddenly, peeking through softly, winding together as their mouths opened.

She stood then, only a little shorter than him, and put her arms around his brown body, matching his caresses with hers, tucking her head in under his demanding mouth, and continued the kiss.

As the two naked bodies pressed together, Tiros could feel the excitement of her erect nipples, and she could feel both the pressure of his stiffening phallus between their bodies, and the heat and dampness between her legs.

Somehow her hands found their way to his buttocks, and as she caressed the skin, he stroked the very tips of his fingers down the centre of her spine, bumping across the vertebrae and sending shivers through her body.

When Tiros pressed harder up against her, his intention was plain, and she was in no frame of mind to object. Acacia fell backward on to the bed, her legs parted, and he fell between them, half on the bed, and half on the floor. From his position, he was able to kiss the lower parts of her neck, and slowly worked his way down, over her collarbone, and on to the smooth expanse of her lightly freckled breasts.

Hands and lips roamed all over both breasts, his tongue circling and teasing her hard nipples before sucking into his mouth to play with a little more. Acacia began to moan beneath him as he toyed with her, but he ignored her and carried on.

Eventually, as his hands wandered her body, and his mouth tortured her breasts, Acacia started to writhe beneath him, her earlier surprised squeals replaced with a mindless sigh of pleasure. Tiros' fingers finally returned to the desperate nipples, and as he tweaked them gently within his fingers and slid his mouth down to her navel, he felt her whole body shake and quiver beneath him, and he slowed his ministrations a little, to give her time to recover.

"Tiros, are you really a mortal?"

"If I am not, no one has let me know."

"I would... I know not quite how to ask... I would have you inside me, should you be willing."

"Are you sure, Goddess?"

"I am merely in training, mortal, as I informed you. I would, however, feel like a Goddess, I am sure."

"You are feeling sufficiently distracted?"

"I did not come here to talk, Tiros, as you know. Pray proceed."

"You no longer wish me to use my hand?"

"Use me, mortal. I command it!"

"I would not argue with a Goddess."

"This is as it should be."

With a little clumsy movement, Acacia managed to wriggle backward until she was lying completely on the bed. Her legs were parted carelessly, her copper thatch plainly visible, her young looking nether lips parted in invitation, her excitement apparent from the glow of her skin. Tiros moved forward as well, until he was lying between her legs, and their faces were again together. They recommenced kissing furiously, not talking any longer, and their bodies began to move against each other. After a few minutes, Tiros stopped long enough to lift his face from hers, and seek confirmation.

"You wish to consummate this, Acacia? I would not force you."

"You could not, Tiros. But hurry. I am desperate now."

"If you have not... done this before, it may hurt."

"I have... dealt with it, my mortal. I have not been with a man, but I have felt pleasure. Do not delay on my account."

"Now then?"

"Please Tiros, no more teasing."

Positioning himself, Tiros slid the tip of his solid phallus up against the damp labia, stopping as he reached her clitoris, the bare skin just barely touching hers, and then slid it back as far as he could without breaking the contact between them. He stopped then, grinned at her, returned his lips to hers, and while her tongue felt its way gently into his mouth, his erection felt its way almost as gently into her.

He stopped, his cock deep inside her, and concentrated on her mouth for a minute, trying to forget the wet hot tightness around his cock, and the rasp of erect nipples against his chest, even her hands on his shoulder blades.

The delay was just what he needed, and as their tongues continued their complex dance, he was able to calm down just enough to continue.

As he lifted his body slowly from hers, his cock slid slowly out of her, and the rhythm between their mouths changed as she thought he was going to leave. Just when she was ready to object, he thrust back in, hard, and she returned to her caresses. That thrust was the first of many, and eventually they managed to coordinate their movements, and he was sliding in and out of her without disruption, the friction slowly but inexorably driving both of them to the point where they couldn't stop.

Acacia's thrusts soon matched his, her hips pushing up from the bedding as he impaled her again and again, and their mouths parted, both desperate for more breath. Their sweaty bodies continued to pump, a single machine consisting of two bodies.

It's not reasonable to expect a mortal body to put up with this treatment for too long, and it seems the same applied to those heading for Godhood. Soon Tiros could feel that his partner was right on the edge, and as Acacia was pushed over the edge, he could hold back no longer, and they came together, a desperate flurry of groans, and thrusts, muscles pulling in all directions, hot sweaty skin sliding carelessly, two minds exploding in orgasm, and as she clamped his cock tightly between her legs, he jetted hotly deep inside her, his fluids mixing with hers.

A chain reaction started then, each of his contractions causing one in her, the quiver of the muscles reverberating back to him, causing another twitch, and so on. Eventually, these aftershocks died down, and Tiros collapsed on the Goddess, still buried deep inside her, and whispered quietly in her ear.

"I certainly am pleased that it was not Nemesis that came to visit tonight, my Goddess."

"As am I, my mortal."

"I would, however," he whispered even more quietly, "have a request to make."

"Yes Tiros?"

"I wonder, Acacia, if you would be my Nemesis."

"I would, Tiros."

"But no oil."

"No oil, mortal. I could not."

"Unless you have some that could make me ready to repeat our encounter."

"I can do that Tiros, but I need no oil."

"No?"

"No."