He had his father's eyes. His father's character, trusting and faithful. But his mother's build, her strength and independence. His chest was bare, heavily tanned, and hairless. His curly locks glowed in the sun. As he strode up the steps to the palace balcony, I turned to my nurse and spoke my heart.
"I love him. More than his father. I crave the touch of those sure hands. I want his thighs beneath my own. I need his lips upon mine."
The nurse was startled into silence, the needle in her fingers fell from the embroidery she mended.
"You cannot."
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Erato's Musings
RomanceI know your time is precious, especially your free time. Why not spend it jump-starting your libido? 100-word (exactly) erotic drabbles from Greek and Roman mythology (some historical "fiction" as well). Some are very sexually explicit. Adults ONLY...
