Sex and The Greek Gods Part 4.
Paris and Helen: lust that burned down the world.

Queen Helen couldn’t stop a shiver of repulsion when she felt the door of her chamber swing open. Her husband, King Menelaus of Sparta, stumbled into the room, drunk as an ox. As he fumbled in the darkness, rolling up her tunic and feeling for her cunt, Helen lay on her back and spread her legs, guiding the heavy, stinky man to slide his cock inside of her. The sooner he would cum, the better. Then he will fall asleep, and Helen would sneak out of bed and go lay down on the cot where her maiden slept.
Just like last time and the time before, the king pounded clumsily inside his beautiful wife, patching sloppy kisses on her face that reek of wine and food. He grabbed one of her tits, pinching the nipple hard, and groaned in pleasure while the royal prick inundated the queen’s cunt full of sticky cum. Soon enough, he was snoring, and she pushed him off her. The faithful maiden was already waiting for her with a basin of water and a cloth. She cleaned her mistress off, making sure to wipe the mess between her legs carefully. Helen let tears roll off down her face. This had been her life since that fateful day when her father chose a husband for her. She had even found the strong, redheaded Menelaus attractive at first, but upon arrival to her new home, Helen was confronted with the Spartan ways of lust.
After the marriage feast, the bride was placed in a dark chamber. The groom, drunk and used to live with other soldiers in barracks, would then fumbled his way to the terrified girl and forced himself on her. In the morning, he would leave without a word and go back to live at the barracks, while the new wife would remain in a gynaeceum with other women. The king was not that different; trained as a soldier, Menelaus had made his clumsy way to his scared bride to claim her for the first time. When she instinctively curled away, he grabbed her by the throat, pinned her down, and spread her legs forcefully. He took her virginity in one rough, painful push, indifferent to the cries and tears that his savage pounding caused the innocent girl. It was the Spartan way. The only difference between the king and the ordinary soldiers was that Menelaus was always surrounded by servants and slave girls that he could use at his leisure, so he only needed to make his way to Helen’s chamber once a month in hopes of impregnating the queen. Of all the women in Sparta, at least in this regard, her position was still the best.
The maiden finished cleaning the queen and made room for her on the cot. The two women embraced, wiping their tears, comforting each other with sweet kisses and soft caresses, so different from those from the men in their lives, their woes so similar despite the differences in their titles. The illicit feeling of the maiden’s lips on her breasts, of a gentle tongue sliding between the folds of Helen’s raw pussy brought her both comfort and pleasure, her sensitive quim quickly going from lingering pain to the intoxicating relief of orgasm.
The next day the queen’s servants dressed her up and braided her hair with gold pins while she stared idly. What could be different this day from all others? An entourage from Troy had arrived to negotiate a commerce treaty with Menelaus. They shall be entertained; they will feast, get drunk, fuck the dancers and the slaves, and puke all over the main hall. All she could do is hope Menelaus would choose to fuck enough servants that night that he would not bother to stain her bed with filthy droolings. Unbeknownst to her, among the newcomers was Paris, son of King Priam, to whom the goddess Aphrodite had promised the favors of the most beautiful woman in the world. To this purpose, the deity had given him her sacred belt, which conferred the wearer the power of being utterly irresistible.
All it took was one look. Helen saw the handsome prince enter the great hall, and her life changed forever. It took all of her will power not to throw herself at him right there, in front of everyone. The young queen despaired, not knowing how this burning desire could even be quenched. Then suddenly, she was surrounded by a mysterious mist. She stood up and walked, hypnotized by the enchanted fog provided by the mischievous goddess of love. When her vision cleared, Helen saw that she was in her chambers, the door locked, and Paris, the beautiful prince of Troy, awaited there, naked except for a belt around his waist, his large, turgid prick pointing at her. The queen fell to her knees in front of him, opening wide to take the massive member in her mouth. The prince groaned, head rolling back, hands grabbing at her hair to push himself deeper. The most beautiful woman in the world eagerly took every inch down her throat, willingly choking on it until her belly got filled with the unexpected lover’s cum. That night for the first time, Helen gave herself to a man willingly, rejoicing in the feeling of that insatiable cock filling every wanton hole of her frenzied body.
The next day, when the maids came to groom the queen, they found her room empty. On the port, the Troyan ships were gone. Aboard them, the lovers continued their insatiable lovemaking, knowing this meant great trouble for them but unaware that their quenched lust would unleash a war the likes of which the world had never seen.