Juliet knew the shot was not easy, straight into the setting sun, a swirling breeze off the sea, and seven pillars of distance to the target, but the arrow, tip anointed with the juice of Cupid’s kiss and cunt, flew well and struck with a solid, satisfying sound.

“I think it’s a good hit,” Cupid exclaimed. “How exciting!”

“Half a hand low I fear,” said Juliet. “Well, let’s go see.”

“Do they never run?” Cupid asked as they drew closer to the pavilion’s end and the last pillar.

Juliet smiled. “Not when guarded by my growlers. Yes, a little low. I judged the height wrong.”

“Can’t be easy to tell when it’s lying down in darkness you’ve known them.”

“You’re kind to say,” Juliet said.

“Do you ever think to try one more than once?”

“There are so many of them out there; it wouldn’t be fair. Would you have liked a turn? I would have shared, now that you’re of age. Are you saving yourself for love?”

Cupid blushed. “My archery is not up to snuff.”

“This one was rather fine. So full of stamina and seed.”

“Yes, the seed was abundant and of good taste.” Cupid licked the corner of her lips. Swallowed.

“You have such a knowing and loving tongue,” Juliet complimented her companion. “You know, the excitement of the shot may have loosened a drop or two of fresh moisture. Would you care for dessert?”

Cupid’s eyes sparkled. “Nothing I’d love more.”

Arm in arm the pair retired to Juliet’s chambers, leaving the growlers to their feast.