[MF][MF][Fiction][OC] Orpheus and Eurydice, Part 1

The moans came loud and uninhibited from the countryside cottage. Night had swept over the land and the dim light of the candle shone through the open window. Inside lay the captivating Eurydice with her body bucking wildly beneath the blanket and her head thrown back into the pillow. Her moans were filled with passion, long and loud. Her brown eyes had rolled upward and a slight smile played across her face whenever she wasn’t biting her lip or trying to retrieve her breath. Finally her whole body tensed up and she let out the loudest crying moan of the night before turning her blushed red face into the pillow and letting out little whimpering moans.

“Stop. Oh gods, stop. I can’t — I can’t,” she spoke in a breathy, rushed voice as her body still wriggled slightly, almost as if trying to move away from the source of her immense pleasure.

The short brown hair of Orpheus revealed itself first from under the covers as his head traveled away from between the legs of his new wife. He took his time to come up fully, kissing along her body as he went. When his face was fully removed from under the blanket it revealed the face of a young man in her early 20s who was all smiles upon making eye contact with his bride.

This was Orpheus. He had been the dream of every woman in Thrace, not only due to strong body and handsome face but also — and, honestly more importantly— because of his talents with a lyre. Orpheus was the most famous poet in all of Greece. He had been taught by Apollo himself, who some rumored to have been his father, how to play the lyre. Orpheus had returned recently from his adventure with Jason and the Argonauts and was in high demand throughout the country to play for nobles and kings.

This was Eurydice. The girl was a nymph who Orpheus had met while journeying back to his homeland of Greece. Everywhere he went, he played his music and told the tale of the brave Argonauts. Eurydice was majestic. Her long flowing brown hair always seemed to sit perfectly. She had a slim figure with wide hips and small breasts. She was the desire of many men, but gave herself to no one. It was Orpheus who first set eyes upon the girl who was only slightly younger than he. When she heard his music, she felt compelled to dance before him. And when he stopped, they sat together and talked from the early evening through the night until the sun came up the next day. It was love.

Orpheus journeyed constantly for months back and forth to see Eurydice before one day asking her to be his wife. She didn’t hesitate in her answer and the two were wed one month later. The entire region of Thrace had celebrated the union of the great poet Orpheus and his beloved Eurydice. This was their wedding night.

“Apparently, singing is not all your mouth does well,” Eurydice smiled at her husband before kissing him. The kissing lingered before her tongue slipped from between her lips and into his mouth. She could taste herself on his lips. Her hand grasped the back of his head and pulled him deeper into her mouth. When they released, it was only for a moment before they began to kiss one another again over and over.

“I suppose I’m blessed then,” he responded in a playful voice.

The two cuddled up together with Orpheus holding Eurydice tight in his arms. He never wanted this night to end. He never wanted to be without his love. This was his life now.

Two hours passed before he slid out from under her. He left the house briefly to relieve himself. When he returned, he lit another candle and sat by its light with his lyre in hand. He began to play softly with his eyes closed. His calloused fingers felt their way from string to string. Eurydice stirred in their bed and Orpheus pushed his hand against the strings in order to silence the instrument.

“Why did you stop?” She asked in a sleepy voice.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’m awake, keep playing.”

He did. The song was slow and peaceful, complimenting the quiet night they were sharing together. After some time, Eurydice pulled herself from the bed and began to dance to the music her husband was making. Orpheus changed the tune to be faster as he watched her lift herself to her toes and spin and bow and reach up, as though wanting to touch the peak of Olympus, throughout their home.

“You remember, I have to go away for a few days. I’ve been invited to play for a lord in Thessaly. The money will do us well as winter approaches.”

The sadness on her face could only be matched by the sadness he felt. He wanted to take her with, but there was still much work to be done in their home and they had agreed it was best for her to stay this time.

“I remember,” she said as she sat at his feet, “Allow me a parting gift.”

Eurydice reached up and pulled the lyre away from Orpheus. After setting it down gently, she turned her attention back toward him and pulled his legs apart. His dick began to harden as he understood what his wife was wanting, and very quickly it stood at attention before her. Eurydice leaned forward between his legs and took the length of his dick in her mouth and into her throat. Her head began to bob up and down quickly. Orpheus ran his fingers through her hair as the sound of pleasure filled his mouth and escaped in moans. Drool spilled from Eurydice’s mouth and down the shaft of his dick before being sucked into her mouth. It didn’t take long for Orpheus to release himself into Eurydice’s mouth. His body slumped in the chair as she made sure every last drop was taken.

She said nothing. She only looked up at him until his eyes lifted to meet hers. A devious smile ran over her face as she stood to her feet and walked to the window, spitting his seed from her mouth into the grass outside. When she turned back, Orpheus began to laugh loudly and point at her.

“What?!” She demanded an explanation. He offered none. His laughter only continued. “Tell me!”

Finally he caught his breath and, still pointing, explained, “It’s all over your chin!” He began to laugh again.

Her hand shot up to her chin as she let out a light gasp and felt run of his semen.

“Ugh! I was trying to get a rise out of you,” she complained.

“Well, you got a laugh out of me instead!”

The next morning, Orpheus finished loading his cart with supplies for the trip. He kissed Eurydice and held her in his arms for a short time before he finally set off on his journey. As he left the property, the chilling air of autumn greeted his skin. He covered himself his cloak.

“Persephone has made her trip to the underworld,” he commented to himself.

Deep below the surface of the earth —way deep down where no natural light could hope find— the cries and moans of the dead on the other side of the river Styx echo loudly. It is there that the damned dig their eternal grave, making room for the damned who will come after. It is there that Sisyphus rolls his boulder up one side of a hill only for it to roll down the other for all time. It is there that the gateway to Tartarus, never to be opened, can be found. It is there that the journey into the luscious green fields of Elysium awaits the pure and the heroes. And it is there, high up in the black castle that overlooks it all, that moans of a different sort echo throughout the bed chamber.

Hades gripped Persephone’s hips as he took her from behind on the large dark grey sheeted bed. His moans as he took his wife on her hands and knees before him echoed loudly, but they were his alone. Persephone lay letting very quiet moans occasionally muster when something felt particularly good. His hands felt rough where once they felt gentle. His style was aggressive. She had been back for mere hours, but already she missed the light of the sun. The underworld was no place for the likes of Spring.

This was Hades. The Lord of the Underworld and the judge of the dead. He was one of the Big Three gods, alongside his brother Poseidon who ruled the seas and Zeus who ruled the sky. Hades, though ancient, took the form of a man in his 40’s. His clean shaves face revealed a muscular, sharp jawline that complimented his muscular build. His jet black hair was tinged along the temples with shocks of grey. His grey eyes never looked happy. Never satisfied. Never alive.

This was Persephone. The once-kidnapped wife of Hades. She was the goddess of the Spring. Beautiful as the first truly warm day after winter, her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and down to her hips. Her slightly thick figured and full breasts were a testament to the bounty of the earth she brought forth. When Hades first laid eyes upon her, he decided to take her from the world down to his kingdom. It cast the world into cold and death. When Demeter demanded the return of her daughter, Hades— after six months— finally relented. By this time, however, Persephone had begun to fall in love with the god over long talks and time spent together. Before she left, she accepted his offer of food. It had been so long since she had eaten. She ate of a pomegranate given to her, which bound her for six months of every year to the underworld. It was no matter, as she had decided she wanted to be with Hades and have him as her husband. That was over a thousand years ago, though. The closest to life Hades had ever been, his relationship with Persephone, was now dying in his presence.

Hades slammed deep inside of her before pushing his thick cock deep inside of her and releasing himself under the noise of one last moan. Persephone had enjoyed that last feeling, the deepness of his cock being held inside of her and the flood of his seed. But it was over now. She pulled herself forward as his hand loosened their grip in the pockets of her hips and let his length slide out of her.

“I’m glad to have you back. Six months is too long to be without you,” His deep voice spoke calmly to her.

“Don’t get any ideas,” She retorted.

“You didn’t enjoy feeling me inside you?” He looked out toward his balcony, away from her.

“You used to make it more enjoyable,” she stood to her feet and covered herself with a black silk robe.

Hades anger kindled inside of him as he followed suit and stood, covering himself in a large black hooded robe. “Go fuck yourself,” He spoke sharply in her direction before walking toward the balcony.

“Oh, believe me, I just might,” said Persephone as she walked out of the room in the opposite direction.

Hades stood on the balcony and looked over his kingdom. His large strong hands gripped the rail of the balcony tightly in his anger. This was no place for Spring.

Eurydice walked in the garden picking the last of the vegetables that Orpheus had planted before winter killed the crops. It would only be another day or two before her husband would return and they could actually settle into this new life of theirs. She whistled one of his songs to herself. It seemed as though Eurydice had never been without a smile on her face. The creatures of the forest and the air and the water all admired her beauty. But one creature did not care for her beauty. As Eurydice walked through the garden, the viper slid on its belly into the garden behind her. It was quick, over before it had begun. Eurydice felt the strike against her ankle as her scream left her lips. As she looked down at the snake at her feet, her vision began to darken and her body ran cold. She collapsed to the ground and the breath left her lungs for the last time.

Orpheus couldn’t wait to show Eurydice the amount of money he had made to sustain them over the winter. He pulled the donkey-led carriage up the pathway to his cottage and hopped off quickly in anticipation of seeing his wife. He ran into their home calling out her name, but she wasn’t inside. The property on which they lived wasn’t large. It didn’t take the poet long to find his wife’s body in the garden with four puncture marks in her ankle. Her skin had become grey, her lips dry and cracked, and her eyes would not open.

“Eurydice? Eurydice, please! Please no!” He begged as the tears began to stream down his cheeks. “Eurydice!”

The people of Thrace came in the following days to pay their respects and condolences to the fallen beauty. Orpheus had selected a spot near the large tree on their property for Eurydice to be buried. He placed the coin under her tongue himself and prayed a blessing of safe travel across the river Styx for his wife. The people came and the people went and, soon enough, Orpheus found himself alone in his home. He sat on the edge of the bed and didn’t speak a word. Day came and went. Night came and went. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. His only action was to sometimes weep.

Three days came and went before he finally made up his mind. Orpheus stood to his feet and set to work building a shrine in his home. He placed feather and candles on the shrine. Lighting the candles, he knelt and began to pray, “Hermes, messenger of the gods and protector of travelers, hear my prayer in this hour. I seek your guidance.”

The wind around him picked up, blowing out the candles, before a bright light shone through the window and then faded.

“You call that a shrine?” A voice spoke. Orpheus opened his eyes to see a tall, thin figured with winged-sandals standing before him.

“H-Hermes!” Orpheus proclaimed.

“Hello Orpheus,” replied the god with a look of anguish on his face, knowing what Orpheus had been through in the recent days, “why have you summoned me?”

“I need you to guide me,” Orpheus replied as he stood to his feet.

“And where can I guide you that you haven’t already been, o great poet?”

Orpheus straightened his back and locked eyes with Hermes, “The underworld. I’m going get my wife.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fcvf3c/mfmffictionoc_orpheus_and_eurydice_part_1