Athena's Story

Part 18: The Goddess Has Hopes

George should have been given an award for acting so well, she thought wistfully. The day following the dinner party, when playing mixed doubles, Athena and George made a great team despite the fact that they had started off very badly. Athena was distracted a great deal by George's bare legs.

They were both wearing the traditional white and he looked like a proper Oxford old boy today, she thought. His calves were well formed and his muscles flexed every time he moved, so Athena found herself looking in the wrong place more than once and the opposite team had scored a few right in front of her.

When they started scoring serious points, George started rewarding Athena with kisses and playful taps on the bottom with his racket. Athena lived for those moments and responded in kind. They won all their matches and opted to spend the time after lunch 'resting', which amused Thalia to no end.

Athena threw herself into a chair and smiled at George. "My granny must think we are sex-starved or addicted."

He looked at her carefully. "Or in love." She blushed and he continued with a small smile. "Although we did play some hard tennis this morning... you know what they say about sexual healing."

"No. What do they say?"

"It does wonders." He turned away from her and kneaded his shoulder.

"Is you shoulder aching?" she asked.

"Yeah. Gunshots can be like broken bones."

"Want a massage?" she offered earnestly.

"I would love one."

She watched him casually strip down to his boxer briefs and lie stomach-down on the bed. The skirt she had worn for lunch was too long to hitch up without crushing the fabric, so she took it off. She sat astride his lower back only to hop off again.

"I think I have some oil somewhere."

"Great."

When she returned, he said, "This better be good."

"Oh it will be," she promised.

She started to knead his flesh carefully yet firmly enough so as to be effective. Her small hands worked well to cover his whole back, systematically moving her hands up and down, one over the other, in circles. She relished the right to touch him, stroke him, heal him. Every now and then he sighed as she pressed into the knots of tension.

Athena reveled in the potential strength of his arms. He was very muscular and a bit stiff after all the sport. She closed her eyes as she worked his back, imagining again that she was a goddess. This time she was passing her strength to this mortal man, giving healing. Knowing this was only a fantasy, she gave all her love. As hand worked over hand, she gave herself to him hoping he received her love at least in kind.

She truly hoped she was helping, as she moved her thumbs over his lower back, reaching to the sides and back to the centre. Then she realized that he was tensing every time she changed strokes.

"Are you alright, George? Am I hurting you?" she jumped off the bed and knelt beside him to look into his face.

He smiled and melted her insides saying, "I'm fine, kiddo. I just don't think you realize exactly what those healing hands are doing."

"D-doing?" His reference to her hands had alarmed her into thinking he could read her mind for a moment.

He could see that she didn't get it, so he let his statement sink in. Her eyes eventually widened and her mouth formed a perfect O. He sat up and smiled.

"I'm fine."

He burst out laughing, however, when she kept her eyes glued to his face, not risking glances anywhere else. "Your name should have been Diana after the goddess of hunting."