A God Among Men

I walked in from work and sitting on the table was a note, some garments, and A History of Western Fashion opened to the Greek page. Well, this will be fun. The note is written to a person in Greek, because of course it is. On it, it says:

"I found you the closest approximation of period clothing. Please rinse off and leave your work clothes on my wheelchair. Be ready to green upon coming in. Remember his personality in Civ 5? Apparently that's about accurate. And he died at 32 not 24. This is important. He was also really into the Persian culture that he co-opted. Love you, can't wait to see this work.


-Cassia"

Cool. So this is really happening, I thought to myself. I went outside to where the trash bags that needed to go to the dumpster awaited my arrival. I took them to the proper trash burial mound, and on my way back in I noticed the porch light was out. I decided to change it, because no one can build anticipation like this guy. And I don't have pointless twists that aren't really twists like M. Night Shyamalan.

I proceeded to do as instructed, removing first my chef's coat, then my undershirt, revealing the tan skin that hid underneath. I then removed my pants, which smelled like Nacho Night at Mi Gusta, and slowly lowered my camouflage boxer shorts to reveal the small, manageable tangle of hair and my throbbing cock. I had been waiting for this all night and had a hardening slab of concrete just thinking about it. At least the hair is historically accurate, I thought. I climbed into the hot water of the shower. I winced every time my hands slid over my cock and slowly stroked myself just for the hell of it. I didn't orgasm. I couldn't let myself. I knew that would make the coming eruption of Vesuvius that much sweeter.

I shuddered and finished my shower, dried of with my favourite Haunter-purple towel, and went in to look at these "garments." Laid out form me was a braided leather belt, a piece of rectangular blue fabric from Odin-Knows-Where, a yellow scarf, and an honest-to-Heimdall, black dress.

I sighed, donned the dress and the belt (to hell with the rest) and entered the room as Alexander the Third of Macedon, grandson of Zeus, conqueror of half the known world, destroyer of Persia, and king of Macedonia, the Hellenic League, Persia, Egypt, and Asia Minor! But we'll call him Alexander the Great for short. I felt like I had stepped into chambers fit for someone of that title. On my ceiling was a bed canopy, where there wasn't one before. The desk was covered with cloth, and my Greecian plate was fixed and hanging on the wall. My Greecian Urn was on my nightstand and my candle for Heimdall was lit on his altar. She really brought the country to life for me.

In my bed was the most gorgeous woman, other than my wife, that I had ever laid eyes on. She wasn't fat, but wasn't a stick-figure silicone Barbie doll either. She had short dark hair, and eye liner, a gift I had no doubt gotten her from Egypt. Her breasts were heavy and unbound and she laid on my bed in her loose shift, smoking my hookah.

Bitch.

The dress started lifting of its own accord as soon as I saw her.

"Can I help you, my lord?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.


"I'm uh... I'm... I'm in a dress," I said, forcing my tongue back into my mouth from off the floor.

"Yes. You and every other male I've ever met," She replied with a puff of smoke.

I wasted no time in losing the dress and flopped onto the bed nude, my cock already stiff again. She laughed and passed me a plate of flat bread and chicken with lemon pepper, coriander, bay and black pepper. I popped the food into my mouth and we spoke of the current battle with Rameses. I told her that we had taken Memphis, but Hephastian sent me home because he worried about my health. She understood, the whole time idly stroking my throbbing cock. We sat and talked like this for an hour, before she passed me a plate of pastry soaked in rose and honey syrup. We polished those off, and I opened my mouth to thank her, then immediately closed it as I felt something hot and wet on my dick.

I looked down to see her slowly licking my cock, so I leaned back with the hookah pipe in my mouth. It went on for about ten minutes, and right as I reached the peak, she stopped. With a devilish grin, she took her shift off and told me to roll over.

Always eager to please, I did so, only to be greeted with her tongue slowly caressing my legs. I laid there, and as she reached my ass, started slowly licking the outside of my hole. I had to stop myself from moaning Hephastian's name as she rimmed me to the point of tears. I returned the favor after what felt like an eternity of hedonism, and soon found myself balls deep in her sweltering pussy. I thrust slowly at first, then began speeding up, issuing moan after moan from her gorgeous mouth. I felt my balls tighten at the same time that her pussy tightened, and we both let out cries of ecstasy.

"Is there anything else you require, my lord?" She said, her gorgeous body pressed against my own. 
"No, Cassia. No, there isn't."

It's great to be the king.