askmenosecrets | Arcadian Forest Party

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Current Music: Bad To The Bone - George Thorogood

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Arcadian Forest Party

This was more work that he usually bothered to put in, Pan thought, especially here, at home, but everything was set.

At first glance, it appeared to be a forest clearing, beautiful and wild but nothing different than a hundred other clearings spread throughout the woods of the Arcadian mountains. But when you looked again, Pan thought, you saw something quite different. Hidden in the trees were a series of structures suspended in air, hung with ivy and dew, and through the mist-shrouded branches you could see the faint glow of light, and you could smell the scent of fire and food. There was the fire pit, a circle suspended in the arms of a large oak with a crackling golden fire, a roast, and bowls of marshmallows, chocolate and crackers waiting. There was the bar, stocked with a rich variety of wines and alcohols and staffed by two of the satyrs. And then there was the forest floor itself, bare now, but waiting for the dancing. On all sides of the floor, there were cushions on the low branches and benches of fallen logs, each accompanied with wooden buckets full of wine and beer bottles and glassed suspended with vine.

"Well," he said to Zaffre, currently wrapped around his neck, "I think we're ready." Pan flicked a leaf off his forest green turtleneck and looked around with approval before pausing. "We're almost ready," he corrected, and pulled his pan flute up to his lips.

The forest filled with music as he played, music that began as the mystical songs of the flute, but transformed as he let the instrument fall to his side - transformed into thrumming, sensual rhythms and intricate guitars that would encourage the party-goers to...well, Pan thought with a sharp grin, to be bad. Very bad.

"Let the games begin," Pan said.

[Notes: Everyone in fortuna_invicta is invited, the more the merrier in Pan's opinion. If anyone needs directions to the right section of the forest, let Pan know on the SWS post. Mingle! Get drunk! Stuff your face! Find a secluded tree and do naughty things! Pan approves highly of all these pursuits. Format = narrative third person, if you please!]

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"And I have a feeling it is about to get better," she followed his steps, easily, still swaying in time to the music even as they found a darker corner of the forest.

Only a scant few steps into the shadows of the trees, Eros turns and his eyes are midnight-dark as he takes a step forward, and another, hands still on her hips, guiding her until her back is pressed to one of the ancient trees. "That is my hope as well, Lady," he whispers before slanting his lips against hers with a low anticipatory purr.

Freya's lips parted, as she hit the tree, her entire body buzzing with lust. Her hands ran up his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt and she arched upward tilting her head into the kiss.

Eros breathes out slowly, shifting against her hands as his lips part into the kiss. There's nothing he wants more in the world right now and a distant part of his mind wonders if they are each unconsciously influencing the other.

All the better if they are, he decides as his tongue brushes slowly along her lips and his hands glide over silk and smooth skin. Pan might not thank them if their divine lust infects the rest of his guests.

...well. It is Pan, of course he'd enjoy that.

They likely are influencing each other, and Freya's feelings of want are spreading upward and outward by the second. If the festivities turned into a free-for-all orgy, they'd know who to blame, clearly.

She lifts a leg up and around his hip, her dress riding up high enough on her thigh to reveal she wasn't wearing anything under that glorious silk.

He can feel her desire now, pouring from her in waves to pulse through the forest, and it takes an effort to keep his own influence from joining hers. Eros' eyes open, half-lidded and simmering, as his hand skims beneath the dress and encounters...nothing, nothing but acres of smooth skin.

"Freya," he purrs, trailing long fingers to brush against her folds, bending his head to kiss her jaw. "You're terrible. Terrible," his teeth scrape against her throat, "and wonderful."

"Mmm..." her head fell back against the tree, letting out a moan as his fingers graze against her already wet folds, she manages a husky chuckle from under her haze of pleasure, "Of course, I am."

One finger slides easily inside and Eros laughs low as he crooks it back toward himself and his thumb finds her clit. "I expected nothing less, Lady," he whispers against her throat as he strokes. He wants her, but Eros is not one to hurry, and he much prefers to take even this small time to tease the goddess.

Her hands clutch tighter to his shirt, and the one foot that remained on the ground lifts up onto her tip toes when his finger slide inside her. She lets her hands slide down his shirt, then under it to feel his bare stomach. Letting out a small whimper when his thumb brushed her clit, her hips started to undulate against his hand, matching the beat of the music still playing in the forest.

They are still dancing, in a way, and in the best way two gods of love and lust knew how.

Eros' eyes go dark at the sound that sends a spark straight to the base of his spine and he shifts into her hands as his clever fingers move with her.

"And now, my love, we are at a crossroads. Will I take you apart like this, or will you wait for me to join you on that ecstatic edge?" he whispers against her ear. "Speak your pleasure, Freya. Give me the words."

"It is a destination that is far more enjoyable when reached with another." she murmured, her breathing picking up as his finger teased her.

Eros smiles and his lips drift along her jaw as his fingers stroke for another few moments. "How could it be otherwise?" he whispers, and it's a scant few seconds before his fingers slide down her thigh to hitch her leg higher on his hip.

His head falls back, eyes closing and lips parted as he presses into her with a groan. "Freya, my lady, you feel perfect."

She gasped, as he slides inside her. Freya's nails dig into his chest and she presses back against trying to get him deeper.

"Eros--" Freya moaned, "Yes, more..."

Her levels of desire kicked up to eleven, surely she must have been effecting anyone else in the immediate vicinity by now. But Freya really didn't care, she was far too caught up in the moment.

Eros' breath caught as her nails left faint red lines against his skin and he moved back and drove into her. This would be no tender, gradual buildup, no sensual union. This would be a blaze, and Eros' eyes were half-lidded and burning as he drove in a second time.

"Freya," he growled, and his fingers were tight enough on the leg against his hip to leave marks.

She cried out, when he slammed into her. The second time, left her nearly incoherent. Her nails dragged farther up his chest and then clutched onto his shoulders, using them as an anchor.

Freya was loving the mix of violence and sex, an amalgam of the two things she stood for and found herself thriving on it. The fingers digging into her leg, made her lean into Eros and a bite down onto his neck.

Eros let out a low, gasping moan as Freya's teeth closed on his skin and he drove into her again and again, taking them both higher with each thrust. This wouldn't take long, but he'd draw it out, leaving them both trembling on the edge for as long as he possibly could.

Their lusts and twin influences mingled and flowed through the forest, unguarded and unnoticed and by either.

Biting down at each upward stroke she let out a series of broken gasps and growls. It felt so amazing. She seldom got the opportunity to have sex with a fellow deity of desire.

"Oh, Er-ros..." her voice was trembling and her head fell back from his neck. She was nearing her peak.

He could feel every pulse of her pleasure thrumming through him and his through her, back and forth in a feedback loop that nearly made him lightheaded with need. His lips parted as he thrust in again, faster and harder, wanting, needing to watch her come apart.

"Freya," he gasped, kissing along her jaw, pressing his lips against her pulse, "my lady, please, take us there."

She was reeling from the sensations rippling through every inch of her body, His need for her was palpable as was hers for him. Freya was letting out a cacophony of pleasure filled sounds for the hole of the forest to hear, as his thrusts picked up in tempo and power.

"Oh--" her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her toes curled inward. One more thrust and she was an explosion of pure raw esctasy, her orgasm strong enough to possibly give any passerby one of their own by proxy, "EROS!"

Even if he'd wanted to, Eros could never have resisted that inexorable vortex of pleasure. His head fell back, eyes squeezing shut, and her name ripped from his lips as his mind spiraled into pure white nothingness.

His thoughts crept back slowly, one by one, and he panted as he pressed his forehead to hers, smiling. "You are splendid, my lady," he murmured as he tipped his head and took her lips in a slow, searing kiss.

She returned the kiss with a fervor, her hands snaking through his hair, as she came down of her high, "Why, thank you, my dear Eros... I do try."

He could stay like this for hours, he thought lazily, tipping his head into her hands with a smile. He stroked his hand along her leg before lowering it carefully, always attentive after the fact as well as during.

"I hope I'll see you again before you return to the Northlands, my dear Freya," he murmured as he stepped back. The only signs of their activity were a red bite-mark on his collarbone that wasn't at all hidden by his carelessly buttoned shirt and a decidedly sated expression.

Freya smiled, softly, as she straightened her dress.

"Oh, I think I shall make of point of it, Eros."

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Arcadian Forest Party

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