Greek Mythos again; Apollo and the Thriai (nymphs).
Contains sex, incest (this is, after all, the Greek Myths), homosexuality, etc etc.
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Kleodora lifted her honey-filled hands to her lips and drank. The golden liquid spread across her cheeks, her chin; it rolled down her neck, across her chest, and down down down. She didn’t seem to notice, but her sisters did, reaching out with gentle hands to clean the honey from her skin with damp cloths.
When her hands were empty (and she’d licked every last drop from her palm and each of her fingers), her eyes opened. They were no longer their blind, misty white-grey; but liquid gold, rolling and smoking in her skull. “I can see everything,” she breathed, and extended a hand toward the face of her closest sister, Melia.
Hesitantly, Melia leaned forward into the hand (they were blind without their throats slick with honey; but they could still see, in a sense), and Kleodora leaned toward her. Their lips met, in chaste, closed-mouthed kisses; Melia sagged against her, moaning softly, and the urgency grew.
Melaine, the third of the Thriai nymphs, slowly reached out. Her arms found Melia’s waist, and pulled her gently back. Melia fell against her, briefly – and then Kleodora was atop her, pressing her lips against Melia’s, as Melaine’s pale fingers slid beneath her sister’s clothes, and into her sex.
Melia stiffened; then arched back into Melaine with a breathy sigh. Kleodora’s gaze flitted to Melaine, and she reached forward, boldly reaching out to her and bringing her closer. They had to shift to accept the new position: Kleodora kissing and licking Melaine’s breasts, Melaine’s fingers thrusting in and out of Melia, and Melia’s tongue plunging hungrily into Kleodora.
…And Apollo watched all from the trees above. (He had been there for hours, for days, for weeks – any and all; he didn’t know, and he didn’t care.) His fisted hands shook, his cock throbbed. He wanted nothing more than to join them, but he had a task to perform first, before the honey-euphoria wore away, and the sisters were thrown back into silence and shadows.
He held half a dozen pebbles in his hands, which he then threw up into the air. With practised skill, he snatched each individual pebble from the air, and gazed at it. The pebbles whispered to him, each glowing as gold as honey, until he smiled and leaped down from the trees.
(He was pleased to see the sisters didn’t stop; Kleodora’s head lifted, her eyes flicking to him, but then she dipped her face back down again and continued.)
Apollo gently dropped the pebbles into the hissing river that circled the Thriai’s small, unprotected home – this single clearing, with it’s bee nests hanging all around them. He waited, trying to allow the sisters to finish in peace; but their growing moans and husky whispers had him almost cuming in his clothes; and then he couldn’t hold back any longer.
He joined them, kissing and whispering and touching. He gently pushed Melia aside and thrust his own fingers into Kleodora, who dutifully spread her legs further apart to accommodate him. Melia’s small hand eagerly came toward him, seeking out his throbbing cock and bringing it to her mouth.
“I love you, my dear nurses,” he breathed, as the honey-euphoria exploded: cuming, cuming, cuming. Honey dripped from the bee nests onto them as they laid in their circle, limp-bodied and drained.
“We love you too,” the sisters finally whispered back, all three blind once more. They exchanged kisses with him, and sank into the earth – where they would wait until the bees' nests overflowed with honey once more.
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