I like cock.

I guess that's simplifying it a little, but it's better than all that "oral fixation" crap Psyche laid on me last time I was stupid enough to hang around her for more than five minutes. That woman is *fine*, no lie there, but I swear, she's just like every other pretty thing in nature, the beauty's there to trap you. You get sucked in looking at her face, thinking about all the uses you could put that pretty mouth to, and next thing you know, she's spouting off about "compulsive tendencies," "self image problems," and wanting to do some whacked out "case study." The girl is a babe, but she's also *way* out of touch with reality, know what I mean? I'm Strife, not the God of Complexes, we straight on that? Good.

So anyway, I've got this, um...this *need*, see? It's always been there. Back when I was younger I used to suck on things, quills, sticks, ends of knives and daggers, my fingers, whatever I could get in my mouth on the go. Wasn't even aware of it most of the time, not unless someone said something and then I'd be all, "What the fuck? How'd this boot lace get here?" because usually I didn't have clue one how or where I'd picked up any of that crap. Drove Ares batshit.

And that's kind of how it started. I mean, one day I'm hanging at the Halls of War while Ares waxes poetic about his latest war with the Persians, and I'm kicking back, nodding along because when he goes on like that, he doesn't wanna hear anything but the melodious tones of his own sweet voice, know what I'm saying? So, he's yapping and I'm not really listening and usually he doesn't notice that, but suddenly he's all in my face, yelling at me, shoving me back against the wall.

"From now on, you don't *ever* do this in my presence!" he ordered, and then he went and yanked out the half rusted shard of armor I'd been tonguing. Cut me pretty good in the process.

"Hey!" I said with more indignation than I'd usually dare in his presence, but I was drooling blood so I felt justified.

"No more, Strife!" he said, throwing the metal with enough force to embed it in the adjacent wall. "I want you acting like a *god* from now on, not a two year old who hasn't been weaned yet!"

That was insulting, and I was still young and stupid enough to talk back. "Fuck you!" I spat blood when I spoke, but while I may've been stupid then, I wasn't completely brain dead and I knew I'd seriously overstepped that thin line with Ares that separates tolerance from anger. I backpedaled like a total bitch.

"Uh...sorry! Nope, didn't mean that at *all*!" Didn't go over too well with him though, I could tell from the way he was starting to crack his knuckles. So I tried a different tactic.

"Look, Unc," holding up my hands in a placating move, I tried my best innocent smile on him, "it's not like I *wanna* piss you off, 'cause believe you me, that's *so* not on my list of things that rock my world, it's just...well...I can't *help* it! I don't even know I'm doing that most of the time!" I inclined my head towards the metal in the wall. "What am I supposed to do? It's like I gotta suck on *something*."

I expected a lot of things from Ares at that point, anything from plain scorn to a severe kicking of my ass, what I didn't expect was the look that began to slowly replace the anger in his expression.

You gotta understand something, I was a total cherry back then. The only regular date I'd ever had was with myself, some hand lotion I'd swiped from Discord, and a couple damp cloths; not exactly a hopping social life, you know? I'm not hot stuff on Olympus, wasn't back then and I'm still not now, so no one had ever given me a "look." No "come hither" glances, no "d'you like what you see?" stares, and definitely no "come do me now, you big, hot, hunk of strife, you," eye fucks. I didn't know what that kind of thing was like, so how the Tartarus was I supposed to know what was up with that look Ares was giving me?

Of course, he educated me real quick on that count.

Ares was grinning now, a predatory look that did something to me that kind of freaked me out. His tone, his expression looking at me; I felt my cock twitch with interest and wasn't that a big, "What the fuck?" I'd always thought Uncle Ares was a hunk, but getting a woody for him? Hadn't happened before. First time for everything though; found that out pretty fast.

"You need something in your mouth, Strife?" he asked, and he was pulling open his pants.

Before I could question it or even process what in Zeus' name was going on, Ares' hand came down hard on my shoulder, shoving me to my knees in front of him.

"Suck on *this*."

You really don't want to disobey Ares when he uses that tone of voice, but all of a sudden I'm kneeling there, getting up close and personal with the Longsword of War -- no, that's what he calls it; really -- and I'm thinking there's gotta be a punch line here somewhere. One look up at Ares though told me this was no joke, and unless I wanted to really piss him off, I was gonna have to put out.

Not like it bothered me, I mean, we're not talking rape here. If I really wasn't into it, I could've just disappeared, hauled my skinny little ass outta there before Ares could blink, you know? But it...intrigued me. Not just his cock -- I'll get to that in a sec -- I'm talking the whole idea. Sucking off another guy wasn't something I'd put a whole lotta thought into, 'cause frankly, I never believed it was gonna happen, but the thought of it, thinking about Ares shoving into my mouth, sucking on him...got me good and stiff. So what if Ares was gonna get off on it? I was definitely standing at attention just over the idea, couldn't wait to find out how doing it affected me.

So I did. I grabbed hold of those leather covered thighs, 'cause leverage is a good thing, leaned forward and did my best to suck him in.

Now, I could talk about Ares' cock, about how long and thick it was, how the head felt against my tongue when his foreskin pulled back, how I could feel every line of every vein as he slid that baby into my mouth, but you know what? What difference would it make? We're gods. We can change our faces, our bodies, and you better believe we can adjust the equipment. Ares can make that shlong of his as big or as small as he wants, so can I, so can any of us. So that sweet piece of hardware he was breaking my mouth in with, was just how he was happy with looking that day, that minute. Didn't matter though, because it was still so fucking good.

He was rocking in and out, filling my mouth again and again and each time had me moaning, way back in my throat, because I was loving it. I'd never had my mouth stretched that wide before, never taken anything that deep, and with each thrust Ares was trying to go deeper. I was holding on tight, feeling those hard muscles of his flex under my hands each time he pushed in, sucking on him as hard as I could, and I could hear him grunting above me, deep sounds of obvious pleasure, and I was doing that to him. *Me*. Strife. The god he'd always said couldn't do anything right. *I* was getting Ares off. My hard-on jerked at the thought, straining against the tight leather imprisoning it.

I didn't even think about reaching down for a little hand action though, not when I had Ares under my hands, his cock in my mouth and trying to find a way down my throat; when he hit the back of my throat then and I almost gagged, that was when I knew this was gonna do it for me just fine, no assistance needed. I just kept right on sucking, licking at the head of his cock every time he pulled back, loving the whole taste of him, like bitter almonds dipped in spice, and moaning each time I caught a taste of his pre-come, as salty as it was, because *I* was doing it to him.

When Ares came, I did choke. So much come, shooting over and over into my mouth, into my throat as he tried to shove his cock even deeper in, and this time I did gag. Guess it felt good to him because he gasped and pushed harder -- and I came. Right there, on my knees, mouth around Ares' cock, I shot my load in my pants, moaning around his cock the entire time.

"Sweet Fates," Ares breathed the words when he pulled out of my mouth.

It was a compliment, I knew it but I was too busy spitting out his come to say anything. I'd swallowed some, but now that I had a choice, I spat it right out. Talk about bitter and salty; *not* my favorite flavor.

A god can change the flavor of their come, or anything else about themselves, but that's one thing Ares never has done. He's got this thing about the way he tastes; *he* likes it and screw anyone else who doesn't, me included. But that's kind of the attitude we all have, screw everyone but ourselves. Still didn't mean I was gonna swallow.

"You learn to deep throat and I might just find some better jobs for you," he told me as he tucked himself back into his pants. "Maybe a part in the next war."

Sounded good to me. "Cool, Unc," I agreed, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand and getting to my feet. "When do I get to practice?" I knew I was leering, didn't care much either. I was riding the buzz from a totally bitching orgasm and all was right with the world.

Ares snorted, already turning his back on me. "Do whatever you want on your own time."

And so began my fixation with bananas.

I wanted to please Ares, not just for the sweet job he was dangling in front of me, but because I really liked sucking his cock and wanted a few more shots at it. I just wasn't sure how to learn to do it better. I was kicking around ideas for a couple days when I saw a bowl of fruit sitting in one of Ares' temples, an offering. Had a couple bananas in it. So...I kind of got an...idea.

I know most guys, most women too, would probably have a better use for one of those, but I was only interested in learning one thing at that point. Problem was...I just couldn't get the hang of it. Even when it was a piece of fruit, when I was the one in control, not just having it shoved into my mouth, I couldn't figure out how to get around my gag reflex. You'd think, for a god, it would be as simple as just *wanting* it to happen, but take my word for it, some things just don't come that easily. Fuck, I couldn't even make the damn reflex simply go away. It touched the back of my throat and I'd be gagging, no stopping it. I tried doing it slowly and that didn't work, tried doing it fast too and just made myself upchuck. Wasn't pretty. I was starting to think deep throating just wasn't in my range of skills. I mean, after days of practicing I'd made no progress and I *knew* Ares wasn't gonna be impressed. All I'd accomplished was a massive case of frustration. Oh, and an addiction to bananas. I wasn't looking forward to the next time Ares decided he wanted my mouth.

"That wasn't an improvement," he informed me tersely after coming in my mouth for the second time in a week. It only confirmed my own opinion, but it was still a major disappointment. His frown turned to a glare when I spit his wad out on the floor, same as I did last time -- same as I still do, actually. The Big Bad God of War can hate it as much as he wants, but he tastes like shit and I'm not gonna pretend he's ambrosia on ice, know what I mean?

Anyway, my second time giving a blow job didn't rock Ares' world -- fuck that, *I* didn't even come. Too worried about what Ares was gonna think about my "performance" I guess. I knew after that time that I'd only be getting one more chance and I'd have to make it the suck job of the century to get Ares to want it regular. It only left me one real choice.

I never did do a lot of socializing with the other Olympians. Never really gave a crap about anyone outside of Ares' circle, everyone else was pretty lame; War kicked ass. So going to see Cupid was a first for me. Not that Cupid isn't the hottest piece of ass on Olympus, because we all know I'd be lying through my teeth if I said otherwise, it was more that I'd never had any reason to bother before then.

I'd seen Cupid around, at a distance before, even jerked off a few times thinking about that hard body of his. I suppose, if I'd been real stupid and looking for some humiliation, I could've crashed one of those orgies he set up and tried to get a ride on the Love Express -- hey, his term, not mine, okay? -- but I always knew better. I would've been laughed right outta there, 'cause there isn't a god or goddess on Olympus who wants to see the likes of me, naked, and they most definitely don't wanna fuck me. So I never wasted my time.

I sure as Tartarus had never been to Cupid's home. Never really spent much time in anyone's but Ares', actually, and he didn't like me hanging there anymore than I absolutely had to. When I stay too long in one place, things start getting...wonky. Don't ask me to get all specific or nothing, because all kinds of different shit happens, and it's usually all bad. I'm just not the kinda god you want crashing at your house, know what I mean?

Anyway, so I went to see Cupid because I figured my future in Ares' service depended on just how good my "service" was, follow? Now, I don't just walk up and knock on the door because there's no way anyone would just let *me* in their place, not if I'm there unofficially; I just kinda let myself in. Olympian temples are pretty easy places to break into, I've found over the years, mainly because no one there thinks anyone would dare to do it, intrude on another god's space like that. Guess that means I'm either really ballsy or really stupid; never have figured out which it is.

Right. So, Cupid, being a major god and all, had a totally sweet set up, a fucking huge temple all to himself. This was before he hooked up with Psyche, but he'd still moved outta Aphrodite's temple a few centuries ago. Of course the place looked kind of like his temples on Earth, columns and arches and white enough to make you wanna carve your eyes out, but it was way more cluttered than a mortal temple would be. I mean, he had tons of art-type shit all over the place, tapestries and fancy-ass statues and decorative furniture and what a total waste of space! I mean, I don't got my own temple, on Earth or on Olympus, and I never will 'cause I'm not in the big leagues, but if I did, it'd be *way* more fly than that museum Cupid's living in. I got better taste in decor. But, his decorating tastes weren't why I was there, so I just rolled my eyes and ignored the eye-sore.

I found Cupid in what I guess was his bedroom, what with that massive bed taking up space everywhere you looked. That was cool, but he was dressed which was kind of a disappointment. I mean, you find Cupid in a bedroom, you're sort of hoping he'll be showing a little more skin than usual. It was the first time I'd ever been in the same room with him though, or even that close at all, so I got a good look for future, um, "reference."

He was preening. Oh, not in some girly sort of way, I mean literally. He was sorting his feathers, putting them back in place, and not for the first time I wondered what it would be like to touch those wings. Rumor had it that he liked having them stroked when he was fucking. I thought it would probably be pretty hot, having that perfect body on you, in you, seeing those wings stretching out, getting to touch them. Yeah, I was definitely gonna have some good fantasy material after this visit.

I guess I stood there too long, leering probably, because he noticed me. Cupid had looked a little caught up in what he was doing, frowning a little like it took a lot of thought to organize feathers, but when he caught sight of me, his expression changed pretty drastically. He looked at me in that way that says, "How the fuck did *that* get in *here*?"

"I'm Strife," I said, supplying my name because, unsurprisingly, he didn't look like he had a clue who I was.

"Strife?" And the way he said my name, a mix of curiosity and barely restrained anger, told me to either get right to the point or get tossed out on my ass.

"Need some advice," I said, crossing my arms and leaning my shoulder against the marble door frame.

"Advice? From me?" Cupid's eyebrows went up in patent disbelief. "*You* need *my* kind of advice? In what alternate universe?"

I just smirked. Scorn and insults didn't bother me, I'd had years to get used to them. "Yeah, well, what can I say? Things change. So, you gonna help me out here or not?"

"Depends. What d'you wanna know?" Cupid was giving me a different look now, not so much angry anymore, much more curious, like I was a particularly interesting bug he'd just found or something.

"Blow jobs. How do I deep throat?"

"And why would *you* need to know that?" He ran a hand down the inside of his left wing, smoothing the feathers as he spoke.

"'Cause Ares isn't gonna be impressed unless I can do it."

That got a frown from him. "Dad's fucking *you*?" He sounded so incredulous I had to roll my eyes.

"Just my mouth."

Cocking his head to the side, Cupid's eyes narrowed slightly. "Okay," he said after a moment, "yeah, I can see that. You got a nice mouth."

I snorted. "What I got is a need to suck things and Ares' cock just happens to be the best thing on offer. You gonna give me some tips or not? I mean, I tried doing it with some substitutes, but it's not working. You got any suggestions for how to practice too?"

You know, sometimes Cupid does a pretty tight impression of his dad, like when he suddenly got that look on his face right then. I'd seen it on Ares already so I had a pretty good idea what was coming. Well, actually, Cupid was. A lot. But that was later. At that point, I was just kind of weirded out. I mean, one second Cupid's treating me like something dead that crawled onto his doorstep, and the next, I'm prime rib and he's looking for dinner.

There was something I didn't get back then. I hadn't been around a whole lot of people, mortals or gods, and I already said my social experience was somewhere in the negative numbers, but that also meant I didn't get how other guys were. I didn't get that sometimes any sex is good sex, that a willing mouth is a good thing regardless of whose mouth it is. Sure, I'm *totally* with that now, but it was a revelation back then. Ares was one thing, an anomaly, but *Cupid*? That clued me in that just maybe I had something other people wanted, him included.

Don't let that whole "God of Love" shit give you ideas about Cupid. Yeah, he may be babalicious, one big, walking sex-cicle, and he may have a ton of the hottest bods in Greece bowing down and bending over for him, but when it comes to getting sucked off, Cupid's a regular guy, just like the rest of us. If he thought there was a half-way decent blow job in it for him, he'd stick his cock down a centaur's throat and yell, "Giddyup, boy." So don't be surprised that he took me on. I mean, I may not be the sweetest face on Olympus, but I've got what Cupid calls "natural talent." Actually he screamed it the first time, but I digress.

So he's standing there, just grinning at me out of nowhere, and that really threw me, 'cause it was more of a leer than a grin.

"Suggestions?" he said, and when Cupid dropped his voice like that, parts of me just stood right on up and took notice. "Yeah, Strife, I got a few of those. One, actually, now that you mention it." And he started walking towards me as he spoke, pulling off his kilt and unlacing his pants. "Why don't you show me what you know already."

I figured, what the Tartarus? Wasn't every day I got the chance to suck off Cupid. I was on my knees before he even reached me.

Cupid tasted way different than his dad, and I guess I should've expected that, with the polar opposite jobs and all. But the sweet tang was still a surprise, I guess because I never thought cock would taste sweet. On mortals, it doesn't, not unless there's honey involved somewhere along the line, but gods, well, we tend to alter our tastes to match our jobs, me included. At any rate, I didn't know that then, so the taste was kind of a shock, a pleasant one at first. It's so much easier to suck off a guy when he tastes good, gets me hotter too.

I was all focused on getting Cupid off, so I didn't pay much attention to my own hard-on, except to give it a little room, spreading my knees a little. I held onto his hip with one hand and his ass with the other -- 'cause I'm all about grabbing opportunities that present themselves, that includes Cupid's ass.

Being the God of Love, I guess Cupid thinks he's got to measure up to the title, because he always keeps himself big and at least semi-hard. He wasn't fully hard when I started licking him, but by the time I began sucking him he was nice and stiff. Cupid's the vocal type, moaning and talking, little things that didn't really turn me on, but whatever worked for him.

"Oh, yeah, that's good...just like that...so sweet." And he kept on like that and I guess his voice was kind of hot, but I just tuned out the words and concentrated on working his cock as far into my mouth as I could without choking.

Cupid turned out to be pretty hands-on too, which took some getting used to. Ares does grab my hair once in a while, but Cupid had his hands all over. My hair, my ears, my cheeks, stroking, grabbing, holding, and I was starting to feel like the subject of a blind man's grope-fest. It was distracting, but if that's what made Cupid happy, then I wasn't gonna stop and ask him to knock it off. Instead I just tried to get it over with faster. All his chatter and pawing at my face had dimmed my own arousal and I wanted to finish it now.

I couldn't get him in deep, he was too big, but I'm damn good at suction and I put all my effort into that. It worked better than I'd expected too. Suddenly Cupid was shouting, something about me and talent, and he was coming in my mouth. And let me tell you, I spit that out *fast*. Yeah, his cock tasted kind of good, but his come was *uber* sweet, like way more than any sugar or honey you could come up with, and it went beyond cloying. If I'd swallowed that, it would've come right back up.

"Okay," Cupid gasped out, "okay. We've got a starting place. C'mere." He stumbled over towards his bed, not even bothering to tuck himself back in.

I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand and hopped to my feet. Following him, I dropped down onto the side of the bed beside him. He was breathing hard, his tanned skin shiny with droplets of sweat, and I'd done that to him. Way cool. I couldn't help the satisfied grin that crept onto my face. Even if I hadn't gotten off on it, I'd made Cupid scream, and that was totally bitching.

"Keep your clothes on," Cupid ordered as he spread his wings out and let himself fall backwards, bouncing a little on the mattress when he hit.

"Wasn't thinking any other way," I said truthfully. I turned to look down at him, pulling one leg up on the bed.

"Good, and keep your cock in your pants. I so don't wanna see that."

"Yeah, I got that. Now, advice?" I prompted. I knew the score, but hearing him put it like that definitely took the buzz off my good mood.

"Okay; you've got a lot working for you. Lots of natural talent. You just gotta make your body do what you order it to."

"I *know* that," I said, rolling my eyes. "*How* do I do that?"

"Mom told me a few tricks, I'll tell 'em to you. And why didn't you go to her in the first place?" He gave me a curious look.

I shrugged. "You've got a cock, she doesn't." Good an explanation as any. I think the real reason was that being a guy, I had *some* idea how to relate to another guy, whereas I really didn't have a clue how to deal with women. Aphrodite intimidated me. Wasn't gonna admit that though.

Cupid just nodded. "Right. One thing I'm gonna tell you right off, quit spitting."

I wrinkled my nose. "Ugh! Like I'm gonna swallow that! You taste worse than Ares!"

That really didn't sit well with him. He glared at me. "Don't *ever* tell a guy that, Strife, not if you wanna keep him happy. And I never said you had to swallow. You're a god, just make it...go away."

"Oh." Well, more like "duh," but I didn't say that. I felt stupid enough as it was. I guess with a mouthful of that crap, I'd just been so interested in getting it *out* that I didn't think about it the way I should've. Mortals had to spit, gods had other ways.

"Cool," I said. "What else?"

"When the head of the cock hits the back of your throat, quit fighting it, just relax and swallow. You're talented, so it might only take a couple times to practice, but if it's too difficult, there's this trick we can try with numbing your mouth, but it deadens taste too."

I didn't like the sound of that, because as much as I hated the taste of Ares and Cupid's come, I'd liked the flavor of their cocks. That was part of the pleasure for me and I didn't want to lose it.

"Yeah, well, let's try it the other way first. Can I practice now, or do you got some gig you gotta get to?"

Cupid smirked and in seconds he was fully hard. "Practice *all* you want," he said, spreading his legs, I guess to make room for me because that's where I knelt and got to "practicing."

Fortunately Cupid was right, I turned out to be a quick study so we didn't have to worry about killing taste buds or anything. It did take more than a couple tries, not just for the deep throat thing, but because it was hard to concentrate, to access my powers when I was sucking Cupid off and turned on myself. A mouthful of his spunk had me choking and spitting before I could think to make it disappear. That took some work, and a couple whacks upside the head from him. I guess it really annoyed him to find someone who didn't think he tasted like Elysium on toast. I've just never had much of a sweet tooth.

I'm usually not all that great at following instructions, spoken ones, I mean. I'm better at doing by example. In this case though, it was about as simple as Cupid had said. His cock hit that gag reflex I was getting majorly sick of, and instead of backing off or trying to force it down, I relaxed. I *made* my body do it. Then I swallowed, and that was it. He was sliding down my throat, so fast and easy.

After that it was just a matter of learning technique. Talent only gets you so far. Cupid told me how to work the muscles in my throat, how to use my tongue even when my mouth and throat were full, and how to get my teeth in on the action. It wasn't a sure thing though, which I kind of got. Not every guy would like the same thing, which may be another "duh" moment, but it makes more sense when you're doing it. Like Cupid gets off on slow with a lot of suction and almost no teeth. Found out later that Ares wants it hard, fast, and biting. Different techniques for different guys.

Then there was using my hands. I already had some of that figured out, fisting the shaft with one hand and working the head with my mouth, but there was other stuff too, and I guess I should've figured that because I did it when I jerked off. I didn't always need to grab a guy's thighs or ass, I could use my other hand to play with their balls, or further back than that, if they allowed it, and Cupid did. Ares never would, I knew that instinctively and never once tried it.

I spent most of a day with Cupid, learning the fine art of sucking cock. For all that he really doesn't like me, he was a good teacher. I guess he didn't want any bad performance on my part reflecting on him. Then again, it kind of *is* his job, spreading the love, in all its forms. But I didn't say that. When I had it down to his satisfaction -- literally, 'cause he was just lying there, whimpering, staring cross-eyed at the ceiling -- I just said, "Thanks, man. See you," and got out of there.

One good thing about being a god -- one thing among thousands -- is that I *could* do that for hours. Any mortal would've had a broken jaw by then, but I never had to worry about that. Now, I did get pretty sick of how Cupid tasted, and not just his come. I hauled ass outta there because I was afraid he'd wanna go again, just to "be sure" about me learning the lessons, and I think if I had to suck him one more time, I would've hurled. Sweet just really isn't my thing.

I had another lesson I'd had to learn too. I mean, I sort of knew it already, that I couldn't get myself off when I was doing Cupid, or anyone else for that matter. It was just...blowing him so *many* times, even when I didn't like how he tasted anymore, just the fact that I could get him hard and make him yell for me, that was such a major fucking turn on. It got to be too much a couple times and I made the mistake of reaching down to touch myself. Cupid stopped that right quick, said this was about me learning to do something useful with my mouth, not about me getting off, and he was right. If I could come from sucking some guy off, that was one thing, but no one wanted to see me doing myself, it'd kill the mood. So I had to kind of retrain myself, the way I thought, and it didn't happen all in one afternoon.

I was used to coming whenever I felt like it, or at least whenever I could get some alone time with my hand. Having to deny myself was a new experience. It was reflex, you know? I'm hard so my hand takes care of it, kind of automatic like. But now, well, whenever I was blowing a guy and I got the itch to grab myself, I got my hands doing something else. Maybe grabbing him, ass, balls, cock, whatever, just so I didn't start jerking myself off. It wasn't easy, unlearning bad habits, but I did it. I also did a lot of practicing on Ares.

Ares, well, he was most definitely impressed the next time I went down on him. I don't think he'd actually expected me to improve at all, let alone do what I did, blow his mind like that. And I did. Did you know Ares can hit high notes when...properly motivated? Anyway, by the time I got through with my "demonstration" of how I'd improved, Ares was sprawled in his throne, looking at me like my mouth was the meaning of life itself. Yeah, I'm that good.

So, I started getting better jobs. No more of this hanging around at the back of the army, watching the battle pass me by, shit. Suddenly I was in on the action, mixing it up on the front lines. Sometimes I slipped in with the opposing army and really fucked things up with them, got a chance to develop my natural talents -- my *other* talents, you know, the ones I'm named for? Not that I always got it right, I still screwed up, but Ares was a lot more forgiving after a good blow job.

For a long time, years, it was just him. I sucked Ares off whenever I wanted him to hook me up with something good and it all worked out. For me anyway. Discord and the twins weren't exactly thrilled with it. Discord never could give head even half as good as me and Deimos and Phobos, well, they're Ares' sons and Ares isn't into that, so they had to take whatever came their way, no bargaining chips. It still took them a while though, to figure out why I was getting all the good shit. The twin twits were never that bright -- I think they share a brain cell between them -- so no surprise there, but Discord spent a ton of time hanging around Ares, so she should've picked up on it earlier.

I don't think it ever occurred to them that Ares even thought of me like that, and it's no surprise because he really didn't. He just thought about my mouth, and I'm fairly certain he thought about it as something separate from me, that way he wasn't really fucking me, just my mouth. When they found out, well, I think it totally freaked them out. I know Discord was way disgusted and the brainless blonds just didn't get it at all.

Those two had almost the same problem I had, just not quite. I mean, they looked like me, only blond, and no one wanted to touch them, same as me. The big difference though, was that Deimos and Phobos had each other. They fucked each other every and any chance they got and they didn't *want* anyone else. Me, well, I didn't have anyone, so I took what I could get, whatever way I could get it, and that happened to be with my mouth.

Discord never stopped looking down on me after she found out. Not that she thought much of me before -- actually, I don't think she thought of me at all. But she seemed to think I was less than her, just because I'd found a way to get the good jobs. Maybe she would've had a point if I hadn't been able to pull off the jobs, but I did, most of the time. I thought she was a stupid bitch, if you wanna know the truth. If she'd had any sense, she would've found something Ares wanted from her as much as he wanted me sucking him off. I knew he was fucking her, that he had that pussy whenever he wanted it -- and okay, maybe I kind of envied that because for all that she's a bitch, she's a fucking *hot* one and I would've loved to have a piece, but I'm getting off the subject. Discord was giving it up for free when she could've been playing Ares a bit, making him fork over some prime work for a piece, you know? Really stupid on her part.

So Discord hated me, Deimos and Phobos didn't know what to make of me, and Ares was just this side of worshiping my mouth. Wasn't a bad set up.

I wasn't doing anyone else just then, and who else would I've bothered with? Deimos and Phobos were their own thing, I didn't know what to do with a woman, so that just left Ares. I hadn't seen Cupid since our little afternoon session and really, I'd had my fill of sucking him off. Lost what little taste I had for sweetness, you know? But what I didn't get, what I wasn't in a position to understand, was that I'd learned a skill that would pay off with more than just Ares. It took a broken breastplate to show me that.

I don't always wear armor to a battle, it just depends on what I'm doing. My talents are usually better used behind the lines, screwing with the enemy, but sometimes, especially if foreign gods are fighting on the other side, Ares needs all of us up front, hacking our way through the lines. That's when I wore my armor because believe me when I say you *don't* wanna get hit, unprotected, with another god's sword. "Ouch," don't even begin to cover it.

My problem was that during the last battle I'd taken a direct hit and it'd damaged my breastplate. It was too battered to do me any good in battle, and I *had* put in an order with Hephaestus for a new one right after the fact. Thing was, I didn't exactly rate too high on his list of priorities. I knew that, but I also thought I'd have my armor before a *year* had passed. Now, I didn't normally spend more than a minute or two every few months with Hephaestus, and that's usually giving the guy all the orders for my side of the family, but this time I made a special trip.

Unfortunately, at first it didn't do me any good. Hephaestus worked on what *he* wanted to work on. Seniority did come into play a little. I mean, if Zeus wanted something, chances were he'd get it fast, Ares too, but me? Not a chance. Didn't stop me from pushing the matter though, even after Hephaestus had already told me to get lost.

"I need a new breast plate for the battle!" I kept insisting.

"I told you, Strife, I have too many other things to work on." Hephaestus held up some sort decorative armband, probably meant for one of the goddesses, and that told me a lot about my place in the hierarchy of things. But I never did know when to give up.

"C'mon, Hephaestus; you do fast work so it won't take long. There's gotta be something I can do to convince you!" I knew I was whining, but I *really* needed that replacement piece for my armor. There was a good possibility some foreign gods might show up on the other side and taking a hit unarmored would put me out of action for days, if not weeks. Ares would be pissed and no amount of head would put him back in a good mood anytime soon.

And that's when I got the idea.

Hephaestus was ignoring me, or at least pretending to, which was good since it took me a couple seconds to convince myself it was really a good idea, that I wasn't about to initiate a major kicking of my own ass. But then I figured, what the Hades? Why not give it a shot.

"Hey, Heph," I said, walking up behind him. I knew getting that up close and personal would get his attention, even if the too familiar form of address didn't.

When he turned to look at me, he wasn't wearing a happy expression. I aimed to change that pretty quick though.

"How about we negotiate?" I said with a slight leer. My hands were already at his pants, pulling them open and he went from annoyed to shocked in less than a second. He opened his mouth, to say what, I don't have a clue 'cause by then I was already dropping to my knees.

Whatever problems Hephaestus had with his leg, he didn't have them with his cock. It looked perfectly normal to me. He wasn't hard, no surprise there, and I knew I'd have that taken care of fast. Faster than he could put a stop to it anyway, if he even wanted to when I got my mouth around him.

Hephaestus tasted like smoke and the sharp tang of metal; a man really in touch with his job. He fit well in my mouth, and even better when he started to harden. I didn't have to use all my tricks with him, just a little suction, a few licks, a quick nip and a tug at his balls and he was sporting wood and ready to rumble. He wasn't exactly trying to stopping me either.

He gasped when I deep throated him, and from then on it was continuous grunts and moans from up there. Hephaestus was a nosy one. He wasn't a toucher or grabber though so I was free to do my thing, bobbing up and down on his cock, swallowing, licking along the underside, nipping at the head since that really seemed to get some noise from him.

I spread my knees wider to make room for my own hard-on as I took him in deep again. He was starting to leak a little and as different, as good as his cock had tasted, his pre-come was just as salty as every other guy's. I slid my hand under his balls and pushed against that patch of skin back there; got a shout from him and a jerk from his cock in my mouth, more leaking too. I wanted to hear some more of those fun sounds, so I took him all the way in, then started up a steady rubbing of that spot. He didn't just shout, he fucking screamed. Made my cock throb.

That got him going, had him at the point every guy eventually reaches when he just wanted to get off, fuck my mouth until he shot down my throat. I let him have at it too, for a minute or so anyway, at least until I could feel his balls drawing up. Then I pulled back, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and squeezing, yanking him back from the edge.

"Well?" I asked, smirking up at him.

Hephaestus was flushed, panting and sweaty and so fucking sexy with the fire of his forge painting shadows and light over his bare chest. I was definitely feeling the need to get in touch with myself, but it could wait until I had what I wanted.

"Gonna make me that breastplate?" I jacked him with my hand a couple times, just to keep his mind on what was at stake.

"Yes," he hissed the word, thrusting into my hand.

I smirked wider, then sucked him down again, putting my hands back where'd they do the most good, one on his thigh to steady myself and the other behind his balls to make sure it was the ride of his life. I let him fuck my mouth again, working my throat muscles around him every time he went in deep, sucking and tonguing him when he drew back. With my fingers and mouth working together, he didn't stand a chance. Not two minutes later he was yelling and gasping and shoving hard as he came, filling my mouth with come that was even saltier than the precursor had been. I made it disappear as fast as I could.

Hephaestus was having a hard time staying on his feet when I was done with him. He had his good hand braced on the table behind him, his legs trembling. I did him the favor of tucking him back in and lacing his pants back up. I was hard enough that I was aching, but I was getting good at ignoring that when I had to. I'd jerk off when I was out of there.

"Tell you what," I said as I hopped to my feet. "You have that breastplate ready for me anytime between tonight and the day after tomorrow, I'll blow you again." I leaned in close. "I'll put more of an effort into it too." I winked at him, loving his stunned expression, then flashed out.

Heph does some fast work when he wants to, faster than usual even. He got his blow job and I got my breast plate, and everyone was happy. And it's been a good arrangement, you know? I need something done fast, he knows I can make the earth move for him. Really says something that even after hooking up with Aphrodite, he still gets hard the instant he sees me. And the other gods wonder why Heph always has my orders ready ahead of theirs.

Heph showed me that I had a skill I could trade on, but other than him and Ares, there wasn't anyone I wanted to bother with. Not for a century or so anyway. Hephaestus and Ares weren't exactly big talkers, Cupid most definitely wasn't gonna jump at the chance to brag about what he taught me, and there was no reason for Discord or the twins to yap about why I was in with Ares better than they were, so for a while my, uh, "talent" was kind of a secret. Not many in the pantheon knew or were ever in a position to find out. That changed by pure chance.

Ares didn't mix much with the other Olympians, not unless he didn't have another choice. He usually sent go-betweens to get business done. Once I became his lieutenant, I wasn't doing much of the gophering anymore, that was usually handed off to the twins or, more rarely, Discord. She was way more useful than Deimos and Phobos, so like me, she didn't get too many of the shit jobs, just a few more than me. Actually, we kind of traded off like that. I screwed up and she'd pull the next good job while I'd get some crap errand to run, worked the other way too. So anyway, that's what happened. I didn't fuck with the Roman army *exactly* the way Ares told me to, so I found myself running messages for him. Talk about your suck-ass jobs.

Go to Apollo, tell him Ares wants sun on a certain day for a battle, then spend the next hour listening to Apollo bitch about Ares because if I don't, Apollo will deny the request. Go down to the Underworld and argue with Hades for half a day about some warlord Ares wants back, then put up with the bitching and insults from Hades because if I do, he'll usually give over whoever Ares wants. Check in with Athena, make sure she promises not to get in the middle of whatever war Ares has going, then listen to her talk about how stupid Ares and anyone who works for him is. Well, she says it in these six and seven syllable words with twenty letters, and she takes five hours to do it, but it's all the same to me.

That was all shit I'd done before. I know I said I'd never associated with any of they Olympians, and that was true 'cause I might as well not've been there, you know? Sure, I was standing in front of these major gods and they were yelling and whining at me, but they didn't know who I was and wouldn't recognize me the next time they saw me. I was nothing and nobody to them. And that was cool. They're all mostly a bunch of assholes, so why would I care what they thought of me?

That day though, there was a different errand on the list. It was actually a real fucked up one, going to see Bacchus, telling him that Ares wanted another barrel of wine, because that had *nothing* to with War. It was a real insult, wasting my time and talents running that errand, but if Ares said to do it, I couldn't argue. I was already in enough trouble as it was, not getting things right with the Roman army, so I had to do whatever he sent me to do. But I wasn't happy about it.

Whenever I had an official errand, I went in the front of other god's temples. It was the polite thing to do and it made them more likely to grant whatever request I had from Ares, so I went along with it. Usually I have to do all this formal shit to get into someone's temple, bow or spout off all this crap about what an honor it is, real whacked out stuff. Gag me. I did whatever it took though. But Bacchus, he kept his temple doors wide open, all comers welcome -- and that's a little more literal than you might think. It didn't mean me though, regardless of that open door policy, I knew that for certain the instant he laid eyes on me.

Bacchus is...weird looking, even for a god. Sure, we can all alter our shapes, but usually the body we show up in the most is the one we were born in. I mean, yeah, I could make myself look like the finest stud on two legs, but any god would know in an instant that it was an illusion and they'd just laugh, so why bother? Bacchus, well, he was way wild, with that red skin and some seriously massive horns going on, but he was also pretty fucking powerful, being the God of Good Times, or whatever. He was hooked into all the fun shit, so who was gonna tell him he looked screwed up? Maybe it was even a turn on for some people. Whatever, he had it good. I looked pretty messed up myself, but I knew I didn't have the faintest chance of getting a gig as good as Bacchus' so I'd never get the kind of attention he did, and yeah, I was kind of jealous. I pushed it aside though because I had a job to do.

He was finishing up with one of his Bacchae, some good looking guy -- or he would've been without those long-ass teeth and nails; too freaky -- he was fucking over his altar. You know, most gods don't have an altar in their home temples, but I could see where Bacchus would find it useful. Anyway, so he's doing the guy and I'm just standing around on the sidelines, drumming my fingers on red stone, tapping my feet, looking at anything *but* the show, waiting for him to get it over with. Yeah, sex is good and I don't mind a little voyeurism, but Bacchus is *so* not my type. I don't even think the guy's half way sexy, know what I mean? He just got hit with the ugly stick one too many times for me. Besides, that Bacchae he was doing wasn't looking like he was having a good time at all, in fact, he was looking like he was in some serious pain and wanting *out* of there. I figured out the score with Bacchus' words a few minutes later.

"Maybe next time you'll do as I tell you," Bacchus said, shoving in hard, getting a yelp in response. "If you don't, I'll use your mouth." And he pulled out of the guy's ass abruptly, making the Bacchae whimper in pain. The guy slid off the altar then and crawled away. I'm guessing it wasn't humility or anything, just a complete inability to walk, judging by the blood and the size of Bacchus' cock. Bacchus was definitely one big boy.

"So what do *you* want?" Bacchus asked, scorn obvious in his tone and in his gaze when he looked at me. He didn't bother putting the equipment away, probably because all the Bacchae lying around the place had seen it before and I meant next to nothing, so no reason to get in a twist over it.

"Not me," I said, "Ares."

And yeah, I couldn't help giving things a good look, I mean, if he wasn't gonna put it away, then I was gonna check it out. No, he really wasn't anyone I was gonna put into my fantasy life, but he did have a serious piece of meat hanging there. Maybe not "hanging," because Bacchus is one of those gods who's always hard. If he noticed me checking out the package, he didn't say nothing, and his expression didn't change, still looking at me like I'm some sort of nasty stain on his pristine marble floors. Puh-lease, like he didn't have all kinds of blood and gore and wine spilled all over the place.

"Ares." Bacchus sneered the name and that was on the weird side. Wasn't too often that I heard the God of War's name said like people usually said mine.

"Uh...yeah. Look, you're a busy god, I get it, that's cool. I just got a quick order from Ares, for some of that real fine vintage from a couple years ago? The one that tastes like ambrosia and sunlight?" I really couldn't describe it better than that, and I probably wasn't supposed to know how it tasted anyway. But there was a reason Ares was out of his supply of the stuff; I just made it look like his moronic sons did it. Deimos and Phobos were currently on assignment with the Spartan army, trudging through the swamps somewhere in Northern Greece -- in mortal form. Couldn't quite stifle a giggle when I heard that one; hopefully it didn't make Ares too suspicious.

Anyway, so the only response I got to the order I delivered was a low snort of contempt from Bacchus. Then he turned his back on me, walked up the dais to his throne and dropped into it, completely dismissing me with his attitude. It wasn't looking good.

"So, uh, can I get a cask or two?" I asked, daring to walk forward a little, just a few steps. I knew I was pushing things there, ignoring his dismissal. If I hadn't known it, the sight of the Bacchae nearest to me scrambling out of the way would've been a big clue.

-----
End that part. I had a couple other fragments of the story that were unattached to the main part.
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My introduction to women was a total accident.

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Next fragment.
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"Mmm, you *are* talented," she said, and it was more of a purr, you know?

And suddenly she was pulling me up, had her hand down between us pulling my pants open and I was just lying there wondering what the fuck was going on. I got her off, so it was over, right? I always take care of myself, one way or another. But then she's got her petite little hand around my hard-on, jacking me, once, twice, but right before I was about to give it up, shoot my load all over her stomach and tits, she was suddenly pulling me even closer. Free hand on my ass, pulling me down, other hand around my cock, angling it down and--

"Oh, *fuck*!"

Tight and hot and wet and I couldn't get anymore words out, couldn't even breath 'cause suddenly her hand was off of my cock and I could just shove right on in. And I did, because god or not, I wasn't in control anymore, it was like my body got a mind of its own and mine got evicted. I was grabbing at her, one hand on her breast, the other gripping her thigh, pushing it up, giving me more room to thrust again.

"Consider it a reward," she whispered in my ear, but I wasn't really listening, you know? About all I was really hearing was the blood rushing in my ears as I pounded into her again and again, burying my cock as deep as I could in that sweet hole.

I wanna say I made it good for her, that I took the time to play with her clit, make her come, but I gotta admit, I was pretty pathetic. The only things going through my mind were thrust, deep, and tight and not in that order. I was slamming into her, gasping for air, face buried against her shoulder as my hips worked faster and faster. And then, way too soon, it was over. I was yelling, my whole body jerking around on top of her like a headless chicken, and I was coming inside someone for the first time in my life.

The aftermath wasn't exactly the picture of romance either. I collapsed on her and she yelped.

"Get off!" She didn't wait for me to gather enough sense together to move, she just pushed me off of her, shoving me to the side. I just kind of rolled with the motion, lying there, utterly limp with a ridiculous smile on my face, absolutely certain my brains had just leaked out of my cock.
~~~~~~~~~

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