Chapter 8

Though late when we entered the old Parisian hotel suite, four of us shared passion and horniness for a fun hour before exhaustion overcame us. We had gotten over the critique of the wonderful jazz show on the ride home, so we stripped and gathered together and loved each other as soon as the suite door closed, with nothing but moans and murmurs of appreciation and needy instructions for each other exiting our mouths.

We began teamed up on Angelique, whose presence in both Lindy's and my lives, at least at the level of love realized, had been fairly recent. Of course her submissiveness evaporated as soon as Lindy ordered her naked and spread open. She didn't so much fight back as press forward, making the most of every lip or tongue or finger or cock brought forth for her pleasure. She became most aggressive towards my cock, insisting on sucking it at the beginning and doing so with such gusto that I neared cumming in her mouth, even though I teased her, pulling away, for instance, when she wanted me deeper so that she had to pull me back in.

When I informed her of my situation, she moaned, near climax herself from busy lips, tongues and fingers, "Cum in my pussy." Instead of playing resistance, I obeyed, knowing delaying it would remove the pleasure of fucking her and filling her already gestating womb with my seed. I thrust all the way in, followed by a couple more lengthy thrusts, before letting the product of my swollen balls escape and thrilling to the counterpoint of throbs surrounding mine as I ejaculated.

That finished her portion of the evening and brought me into focus so as to return the only real cock available into its full and upright position. Two sucked me while a third brought her pussy onto my mouth. I enjoyed Lindy's flavor, a mix of sweet, sour and bitter, with a touch of piss and sweat added to her usual deliciousness since none of us had bathed before entering the bed. It just tasted even more wonderfully like her.

Once I achieved thoroughly rigid erection, focus shifted to her. After tumbling off my mouth in full orgasm, she lay out as Angelique had beginning our little orgy, with me entering her missionary and very very slowly, and the other two women following my lead as if immersed in some sort of gelatin preventing any speed from happening. The sensuality of it, the purposefulness of every caress and every push and pull, became the most loving of love songs, exquisitely beautiful. Three parts may have been silent as we played her body, the forth, her low, lengthy moans, the only part resembling what a song would be expected to be, but what we created in that bed couldn't have been anything less than glorious four part harmony.

It ended in orgasms, mine filling her womb while hers made it shiver and her pussy milk me of all the juice I had in me. Unlike most times when the cresting of climax drives one into higher gear, it happened at that slow, sensuous pace, and was all the more intense because of it.

We passed out afterwards, at least us mortals. My wife, who in a way had been an instrument of my intentions, of helping me love my good friend Lindy and our little slave, had not had the orgasms the rest of us had. When she awoke me carefully, so as not to awake the others, I realized my selfishness.

"Ssh," she responded to my apology, adding a soft, sweet kiss. "I enjoyed their pleasure, and especially yours. But we have a visitor."

I looked past the end of the bed and could see dark thick hair already suggesting who had arrived. I shifted off the flesh of Lindy, who I had been spooning, and crawled slowly to sit beside my still naked wife. Kneeling in the doorway, naked, hands clutched behind her as if manacled, head bowed, knees spread to shoulder width, Seraphine awaited my command.

I sighed. "I don't know if I can do justice to this," I murmured.

"I could use an orgasm," my wife reminded me.

"Vache," I growled quietly at the luscious Jewess, walking up to her and pulling her head back violently via her hair. "What am I to do with you, disturbing my sleep?"

"I..."

"Shut the fuck up, cunt," I whispered. "Haven't you caused enough problems? Now you want to wake up my lovers?"

I pulled her to her feet, again by the hair. I could see the pain it caused her, and the pleasure as well. "Come on." Turning her and walking her out of the room and into the second bedroom, I couldn't help pressing my loose flesh against her shifting buttocks, probably her best feature, though her breasts were a close second, and then she had a lovely face, and her long neck had that regal elegance, but ... At that moment, with the cheeks subtly rubbing each side of my flaccid penis, they gained first place as they managed to begin the stiffening process.

Standing at the edge of the bed, I growled into her ear, "Did you clean yourself for me?"

"I..."

"Stupid slut. You want me shoving into my best friend's cum?"

"I'll clean her, Joe," my wife grinned at me, holding a formidable dildo and the leather straps for her to wear it.

"A douche and an enema," I suggested.

"Of course. Come along Princess. You rest, Joe."

We nodded at each other. I could have commanded Seraphine to obey my wife, but realized she already would, being in that place in her mind and my wife being an angel.

After awaking from a strange erotic dream of being fucked by the most lively pussy ever, I found out it had been caused by my wife's talented mouth bringing me to hardness.

"Good," she moaned. "You're awake. Slick your cock and fuck her."

My wife rode Serpahine reverse cowgirl, her legs pulling the Jewess's legs wide. It surprised me to see the Jewess wear the strap-on, but it made sense. Helena was using her. And my angel had been busy riding the faux cock while rolling a butt plug inside Seraphine's anus and sucking me into readiness.

I rubbed the unguent—essence of Snake—onto my cock. Helena pulled Seraphine higher via her strong, lovely thighs. I pulled out the thick plug steadily, keeping it relatively painless. "Shut up, Vache," I growled when my slave moaned. Tossing the plug aside, I immediately pressed myself past the sphincter, which only needed a fraction more wideness to accommodate it. With my wife's great strength, she managed to lower that hole slowly, with lifts in between, until I became fully impaled inside my silent slave. I could feel the flutter of muscles, and knew Seraphine held herself back admirably.

Once in place, Seraphine rested on my pelvis as I shifted in and out of her. I embraced my wife and kissed her thoroughly. "Did you cum?" I asked.

"Of course. I insisted she make me cum or I would never wake you. I also told her she couldn't cum."

"But you teased her close."

"Of course," my wife grinned and moaned. She began riding the dildo faster. I nibbled her nipples and rubbed her clit, following her motion, which speeded up the anal fuck I gave my slave.

"Unh, unh, unh," my wife repeated, working her way to a formidable climax. Before it arrived, she pulled my mouth to hers. My fingers rasped harder on her clit, and my other hand twisted her nipples. Her exultant scream ended up muffled, as I figured she intended, by the kiss.

When the orgasm abated, my wife lifted off the dildo, turned and brought her pussy to Seraphine's mouth. As my thrusts continued, albeit slower, Helena managed to undo the strap and remove the dildo and shove it into Seraphine's pussy. Again I had to shut up my slave, even if the moan had been quieter due to my wife covering her mouth.

"She can't even manage a lick," my wife told me, lifting her pussy too high for Seraphine to continue sucking her even if she could, and letting us hear the panting. We had been fucking her for nearly ten minutes at least.

"Ready to cum, vache?" I asked.

"Please," she moaned.

"Just ... one ... second ... Fuck! ... Cum ... slut!" I growled, thrusting between words until I stopped and pressed as deep as possible, letting loose my seed inside her throbbing bowels as her scream became muffled by my wife's pussy. Somehow the vibrations and the mouth placed over my wife's clit brought Helena over as well.

"Too bad," my wife smirked once recovered. "I wanted to see if she'd swallow your cum from your dirty cock."

"Anything," came a voice from beneath my wife. We all three chuckled.

When I awoke, by Lindy and way too early, barely sleeping four hours, Seraphine having left, carefully walking but fully smiling, and my wife and I returning to the main bed and sleep, Lindy looked at me and shook her head. "You two must have made up for all of Angelique's and my orgasms."

My wife shrugged, but didn't let her know of our visitor.

Lindy sighed. "Sleep in, Joe. You look like you can use it. I'll just work with Sam and Barnaby today, and come back early. We really should start working more with Naomi and Betty, putting the Tales together." We had an abbreviated beginning to this, hardly an hour, on Sunday.

We had intended to begin collating things into order for the book in earnest this past weekend, but things, especially my near capture by Simon, got in the way. We felt some sort of frustration getting at most a rudimentary start. In fact, I could even say we felt compelled to do so.

"That might be best," I said, "I mean getting some rest. It looks like I'm going to have a late evening with a new angel."

"Not too late," Lindy smirked. "You will have to make up today tomorrow."

"Of course," I said, relaxing. Before oblivion took over, I heard my wife and my girlfriend chuckle.

It definitely felt different when I awoke alone. It had been a while since that happened, it seemed. I noticed the hotel phone had a red light blinking on it. I called down for the message. "It's Betty," I heard recorded. "Call me as soon as you wake up. I'll be in Nick's suite."

"Hey sleepyhead," I heard when I did as requested. Naomi. "Get dressed and come up. We'll have brunch ready."

"Should I shower?"

"I have a feeling that might be a good idea," she chuckled and hung up.

A half hour later, I entered Nick's suite. Betty already filled her mouth with crêpe. Her one weakness, being a bit of a slob. Naomi leaned over the coffee table full of her illustrations. A laptop computer sat open and on at the corner. Snake leaned back, smiling his usual tight skinned smile, looking snakelike and cheerful, the latter making the former less malevolent.

"We're starting without Lindy?" I asked, grabbing a plate and filling it with a couple crêpes, one sweet, the other savory, and poured myself a wide cup of café au lait.

"You don't think she's busy enough?" asked Naomi.

"Right," I said, settling onto the pillows on the floor that created a makeshift chair. "Oh my," I said, gazing at the Apple computer. "InDesign?"

"Nick said you used it," Betty mumbled with mouth full.

"I suppose he would know," I chuckled. "I have always had a yen for publishing. I wanted to learn everything from papermaking to printing to binding to ... well ... publishing. I took classes in the more craft side of pressing paper and using a small letter press while in Minneapolis. In Hawaii, I took classes in layout and design for press."

"Using Adobe," Betty finished.

"Yep," I grinned, familiarizing myself with the software, bouncing through menus. At the bottom of the page, I noticed a text file and opened it. "What's this?" I asked. "Voice to text?"

"It's a program called Scribe," Betty explained.

"Of course," I quipped. "So what do you need me for?"

"Editing, silly," said Betty.

"Right," I said, and began reading aloud from the raw text, moving it to InDesign where I could better configure it. We chose images, and an impressively large (and of course expensive) scanner resting on the floor beneath the table, giving room for the several pages of sketchbook images to lay scattered on the table's surface, scanned the pages into the computer and into InDesign.

The work proved seductive in grabbing my attention. Time flew by. Visitors came, barely acknowledged, except for Helena, who had gone to the Pereire Chateau and hung out with Eva before coming back to say hi with a lovely kiss, making me remember I missed her, and Lindy, who joined in the fun. Both ladies remained until we decided to break for dinner. The Tales, the end of Cleopatra, would continue after.

"Let's work on every afternoon we can," I said after I saved everything and we closed things up.

"Good idea," said Betty. Naomi nodded.

"What about Tash?" I asked the Jewish angel.

"I think spending mornings and nights with her is enough," Naomi responded. "I think she's getting sick of me."

"I doubt... ," I began before getting interrupted.

"Of course she loves me, Joe. But she's devoted to her independence. In other words, she likes being alone. She's actually working on something, a series of stories or scenes or some sort of novel. She's not sure yet."

"Cool," I said.

"Definitely," the gorgeous Jewish muse grinned.

During dinner with two of my three favorite ladies, at a fun little tapas bar nearby the hotel, I asked about the third.

"She's with Simon tonight," said Helena.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Not lately," Lindy agreed.

"And the clones?" I asked.

"Same thing."

"Shit," I said. "Another ambush?"

"What about Helen?" asked Lindy.

"There too," Helena replied after going blank, and with a smirk on her face.

"What's so funny?" I asked her.

"Oh, it's just that Father can't help thinking Simon will miss out on all the intrigue, without Eva there spying for him."

"Yes," Nick chuckled when the angels and Lindy and I gathered together in his suite. "Probably the most important, most widespread in significance, of any of our little skirmishes. He had a hold of Ptolemaic rule over Egypt, but I finally helped change all that." His look soured. "Unfortunately, not to the benefit I hoped."

"Simon fought back?" I asked.

"He had a role in the successions of Caesars," Nick nodded, "and the end of the Roman Republic of course. But in a way it was inevitable. Egypt continued to be a weak sister of a larger empire, and when that empire, Alexander's legacy, inevitably weakened, the all too proud and arrogant Rome had no problem ridding the world of the longest reigning empire in history which had, really, become a shadow empire by Cleopatra's time anyway. But as usual, I get ahead of myself."

Sobs may not be the most obvious reaction one suspects Cleopatra will reveal at the funeral of her grandfather, to say the least. But though in many ways she has manipulated him over the years, charming him into promoting her place as future ruler over her brother, her fondness for the elderly man, and her admiration for his remarkable political mind, cannot be denied.

Her profound sadness at his loss surprises no one more than her lover, Apollonia. It takes several days for the young woman, who never shows more emotions than amusement and haughtiness, with those all too rare, brief and wonderful moments of love flashing at her, and even more rarely, Desdemona, to fully recover. But loss of a loved one has never really happened before to the Princess, now Pharaoh. And this one weakness will rear it's troubling head again, with terrible consequences.

Upon her grandfather's death, her father rules, but so does she. Her presence becomes the signifier of a goddess in the flesh, of her people's charismatic leader. And even beyond the public, within the sanctuary of the royal residence, most advisors, and even the leading priests, who have been problematic and even a touch rebellious in the past, going back centuries in fact, respect her more than her youth and gender might expect. Probably the most remarkable devotees have to be the martial leaders, who discover her, once getting over the oddity of a woman strategizing with the men, to be fully capable and actually quite brilliant with those strategies.

Of course with her parents and her now ruling, Nick's influence becomes real. Thus Rome becomes favored. But steps need to be gingerly done, and only with a sense of inevitability. Rome proves its power, and moves to reduce Macedonian power. With the latter empire shrinking, its influence on Egyptian territory shrinks. Instead of skirmishing against the inevitable, it is time to negotiate.

One objection ends up fighting this inevitability, and in a way it actually assists it. The objection comes from Cleopatra's brother. Or more precisely, advisors and a priest who have managed to avoid detection as others hadn't, those lured to Desdemona's bosom so she can spy on them and eventually get them exiled or executed. That they, or at least his closest actors on this treachery against his sister, favor their own sex over the opposite enables secrecy as much as anything.

The brother's homosexuality has more consequences than the intimate liaisons. The future of the dynasty becomes endangered because brother and sister fail to produce offspring. If he can be gotten erect, by the skilled mouth of Apollonia, he loses erection once inside her surrogate pussy. And even if somehow it releases seed, being nearly explosive before entering her and one more vigorous caress, by labia rather than the mouth, sends him over, it is not a deep or successful expulsion.

Since intrigue, secrets and discretion has been common in Nick's move against Simon's influence on the Pharaohs, another substitute might be used. But Apollonia looks nothing like a Ptolemy, and Demetrius, Cleopatra's actual father, looks much less like one than might be expected. But just as Nick has provided a lookalike to the queen years before, he may have the ability to find a similar looking man. If he actually wants one.

Things finally come to a head, with Caesar's vast army making Pharaoh's look ridiculously inadequate. Even so, defense of the capitol can only be destructive for both sides. An invitation is made which Julius happily accepts. He expects it, and has looked forward to meeting the legendary Cleopatra.

But no expectations compare to her entrance.

It has actually been a distraction, discussing Egypt's capitulation to Rome, with Julius wondering about the missing Queen. Even if he finds her parents charming and intelligent, not to mention skillful negotiators, the lure, the excitement of his anticipation, as if meeting a true deity, makes him impatient and less giving towards Pharaoh's wishes.

Then a couple of tall, bald men, eunuchs most likely, appear from behind the throne carrying a rolled up rug. "Too early for gifts," Rome's great leader thinks. He watches them set it down long ways in front of him.

"You might want to step back," says the handsome and charismatic Nickodemus, both high priest and chief advisor to the Pharaoh. "Farther," the man smirks.

The rug unrolls. It unquestionably is one of the finest of Persia's great craftworks. But the true gift emerges at the end. A woman, nearly naked, with gold and jewels covering her neck, chest and crotch, and even those coverings have a provocative, peek-a-boo nature, continues to roll until she stops at his feet. She kneels in front of him, her lips close to his swelling manhood. Her tongue wets those lips.

Their eyes meet. She sees his expected disappointment. She can never be the classic beauty men crave and great men demand. Her companion has that, and she knows he will enjoy, and maybe feel relief, seeing Apollonia. But her body has already tempted him. Full, firm breasts and buttocks with a taut abdomen between them, and a shapely, curving waist, not to mention perfectly formed legs, neither too thin nor too thick at the thighs, and of a wonderful length equal to the length of her torso, has already excited him. And she can tell by the lift at his crotch, he has a substantial cock. For some reason, this excites her. Perhaps it takes such an exceptional example of manhood to awaken her need for impalement by a man. Except she has had similar feelings towards her immortal grandfather, which only their playful bantering, tools for her to learn from him, and including games of seduction and resistance, has kept from letting herself be overwhelmed. In fact that very sense of being overwhelmed has been the key to resistance. She demands herself to be stronger, more willful, than anyone else.

But as they continue to stare into each other's eyes, she sees his desire reemerge, his disappointment dissolve. Both sets of lips pull higher at their edges in joyous smiles. "He has found my beauty," she thinks.

Silently he lends her his hand to help her to stand. "Excuse us, father," Cleopatra says, the first words uttered since her remarkable appearance. Keeping the strong yet somehow soft hand of Caesar in hers, she leads him behind the throne towards a chamber.

"Caesar," says one of his guards.

He sighs. "You must allow inspection," he tells the queen.

"Alright," Cleopatra smiles. "But you will find only softness and beauty in there. Nothing threatening except perhaps to a defenseless heart or loins."

Minutes later the two guards reemerge from the chamber, both a little flushed. "Is it safe?" an amused Caesar asks. They nod.

"Will you give up your sword?" asks Cleopatra.

"Of course," Julius smiles, unbuckling the belt that holds the sheathe with its weapon and hands it to his man. "Do not disturb us," he tells him.

When the two royals finally enter the chamber, Julius chuckles. Apollonia lays deliciously on the bed, her torso on its side, her head resting on her hand, her legs slightly open, knees bent a little, and gauzy pieces of fabric cover nipples and pussy.

"Hello General," Apollonia coos. "See anything worth conquering?"

"And who might you be?"

"Apollonia," Cleopatra answers as she removes her jeweled and metallic coverings, "the mother of our children. My dynasty must continue, thoroughly conjoined with yours. Does that not appeal to you?" She kneels once again at his feet and removes the cloth that hides his reemerging erection. Taking hold of the ever thickening shaft, she brings the substantial glans to her mouth to lick and suck.

"Ooh," Julius moans.

"Cleopatra?" Apollonia mutters.

"I want this," she tells her lover.

"You do?"

And in silent communication, Cleopatra instructs Apollonia to fill a chalice with essence of Snake and to hand it to her.

"I cannot drink..." Julius murmurs when the chalice get filled and brought to the end of the bed.

"It is for Cleo, my General," Apollonia tells him, handing her lover the cup. When Cleopatra fills her mouth with it, she lets spill some into her hand which she pushes into her pussy. She swallows the rest and refills her mouth and returns to fellating him.

Meanwhile, Apollonia guides Julius to her breasts. His hands remove the gauze and enjoy the feel of the soft, resilient flesh and the lengthening, hardening nipples. She leads his mouth there, and as he sucks and licks, she dips her fingers into the cup to bring the aphrodisiac to her pussy lips and then to the nipple not yet sucked.

The taste does not startle him because of the distractions, both in the wondrous texture of the breast and the remarkable fellatio. Cleopatra, amazingly, has pulled his thick plum all the way into her throat.

Though she has never fucked a man, at least to any depths inside her, the several lovers Apollonia has enjoyed, with Heracles being the largest of them, she has shared learning the sport of oral pleasuring. Never have they cum inside her mouth though. That act only happens with Apollonia, as protection against the seed making her lover pregnant. But she takes pride in thrilling them, and in her ability to have them fuck her throat. It always amazes them, none more than Julius. And she takes pride as well in even getting such massive glans past her complaining uvula, by far the biggest ever penetrating her.

And with that thrill, fucking that tight and active throat, it does not take long for Julius to reach completion. She feels the thickening of his shaft and glans. Her hand takes hold of the bound fruit of balls and sack and feels the vibrations. She pulls his cock from out of her throat, letting him fill her mouth past brimming with his sticky, slimy, tart and bitter semen. She discovers it unpleasant in both taste and texture. And yet she welcomes it, the sacrifice, the proof of success.

The intensity of the climax makes him unsteady on his feet. Superhuman in strength, Cleopatra easily prevents his collapse, holding him up as her lover strips him naked, and then guiding him prostrate onto the bed.

There the two work him into readiness again while readying themselves as well.

"What's this?" they hear him mutter when Apollonia settles her pussy onto his mouth.

"Men!" the lovers growl quietly before Cleopatra explains.

"You have two lovers, oh great General, who, if one of us is not perfect in face, are perfect in form for fucking. You get to watch us pleasure each other. You get to fuck where no man has fucked before. You get to have any and all pleasure you ever imagined. And all we ask in return is to feel your tongue and lips on our needy pussies. And..."

"Oooh," Apollonia moans.

Cleopatra giggles, "And I think you might even enjoy it." She watches his limp penis begin to swell. Her mouth once again coaxes it harder, longer and thicker.

As, between the two women, she is best at conjuring an erection orally, her companion has far greater superiority than a man having his first taste of female genitalia in giving her orgasm inducing cunnilingus. Cleopatra has to be ready, after all, for the piercing of her all too resilient hymen.

"He's ready," Cleopatra murmurs. While the two women switch places, Apollonia hands the remaining essence, which she has been applying to her lover's pussy along with her sucks and licks, for Cleopatra to finish.

"Such a great cock for such a great general," Apollonia complements him while easing the fattest cock she has encountered past the threshold of her labia. "Gods," she moans, feeling it stretch her ever deeper. "So fucking good." She looks up at her lover. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Cleopatra murmurs, horny from the effects of Nick's cum rather than the deficient skills of Julius. "Suck me here, Caesar," she says, pulling his mouth to surround her rigid clit. "Feel the little ridge and the pin of flesh? Lick it. Suck it. Yes."

The women wink at each other. Apollonia finds the boundary of her cervix press against his mighty glans. None but Heracles has touched it, but she knows from that contact, even if it usually barely caresses her there, that when they get a bit out of control, it will cause her pain. So she measures the length of cock available to her, maybe an inch left over, and begins an ever quickening post on it, changing angles to find better and better friction while caressing her own nipples and clit, until she reaches the threshold and beyond, and shivers and shakes, frozen, with him as deep as she can stand, her face a rictus of pleasure.

"Gods," moans Julius, feeling the milking action of the hugging walls.

"Can you stop yourself from cumming?" asks Cleopatra, moving her pussy off his mouth and shifting her body around until she has her face in the bed and her perfect ass raised high.

"Barely," he murmurs.

"Than fuck me, Caesar," she says. "Seed me. Make me yours."

"Yes, my queen," he chuckles, albeit breathlessly.

Apollonia lifting off him frees him to turn and kneel before perfection, guiding his bulbous glans, as fat and as hard as he has ever known it to be, to Cleopatra's saturated pussy lips.

"Be gentle," says Apollonia. "She's..."

"No!" Cleoptra yells. "Just fuck me, Caesar! One mighty thrust! Fuck!" she screams when the entirety of his massive cock fills her pussy completely. She feels as if she has been knifed. And then, when he immediately cums inside her, having never felt such wondrous pressure, slick and hot, surround him, his semen only adds to the pain, like alcohol on a gaping wound.

"Cleo!" Apollonia cries, slipping underneath her and embracing her.

"Fuck that hurts," her lover says, and for some reason the two women laugh.

"You crazy bitch," Apollonia murmurs.

"His crazy bitch, it seems," Cleopatra replies. They giggle. They kiss. Lips separate. Cleopatra looks surprised.

"What?" asks her lover.

"I think the fucker's still hard."

"Want some more elixir?"

"No. I think it's enough."

"Starting to feel good?"

"Very."

"Did I hurt you?" Caesar asks.

"Some," Cleopatra plays it down. "You're still hard."

"It seems so," he chuckles.

"Go slow this time."

"Yes, my queen."

"Mmm," Cleopatra approves.

"Better?" he asks.

"Much."

Several minutes later, slow becomes hard and fast at Cleopatra's insistence, although the unprecedented pleasure Julius finds fucking her, so tight, so hot, so slick, may have revved him up without her saying anything. And when he notices such things, driving in hard often bounces off a wall bruised too many times, causing too much pain, though his lack of empathy makes him not notice all that often. But with this woman, this queen, this deity in the flesh, he barely brushes against that wall, adding just that much more pleasure to the infinitely pleasurable.