DISCLAIMER:
These characters do not belong to me. This is a work of speculative fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

British spellings.

WARNING:
This is NC-17. Sexual situations, m/m.

You can find more stories by Aly at her site Aly's Ares and Iphicles Slash

Send feedback to strife@comic.com

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Comparisons
by Aly

"You have a very talented mouth . . . for a mortal."

You know, I hate that more than anything else. He finally gives me a compliment and just as I'm getting that warm glow inside, the one that says 'Hey Joxer, you finally did something right!', he has to spoil it.

So, I'm not the world's greatest fighter. Yeah, I can't walk ten meters in the forest without endangering my health. And sure, my choice of songs could use some work. But after devoting my full attention to Ares' cock and utilising a few little tricks guaranteed to make any normal man into a bowl of jelly, I was expecting more of a response.

He senses my disappointment, reaches down to pull my busy mouth away from his groin, wrapping his strong fingers through my hair and gently tugging backwards. I sit back on my heels, looking for all the world like a puppy waiting for a smack. He looks at me. I look back. I keep looking, my eyes traveling over his dark eyes, gorgeous mouth and then down to his chest. My lips feel dry suddenly.

His hand tightens in my hair and the pain pulls my attention back to his face.

"You wanted to say something?" he purrs at me. I shake my head dumbly. He smiles with satisfaction, convinced of his control once more, and leans forward to kiss me. His hot tongue thrusts its way into my mouth and seems to suck all the strength from my limbs. It's a cliché, I know, but it feels like it goes straight to my groin. I'm as hard a rock and all he's done is kiss me.

I groan and he takes this as a sign to drag me onto his lap, not breaking the kiss for even a moment. I writhe closer towards him, trapping his cock between our bodies. Sitting on his thighs, I push closer towards him until our cocks are separated only by the thin fabric of my trousers. I begin a gentle rocking motion and the friction makes him groan.

Just as I decide I'm going to embarrass myself, he releases me from the kiss and moves his talented mouth down the line of my neck and shoulder, nipping and biting as he goes. Alternating between gentle nibbles and fierce bites, Ares reduces me to a quivering mass of flesh, desperate for him. His hand releases my hair, freeing me to lean my head back, offering myself to him.

I whimper and he stops his ministrations.

"Joxer? Are you sure you don't want to say something?" He sounds amused, damn him. I find my voice.

"No, Ares." His eyes are bright and I know he's going to make me beg for it. He looks at me expectantly. If I had any pride, I might try to pretend I don't want this but right now I'd do anything just for him to continue touching me. "Please . . . . I want you."

He looks at me, not moving. I try again, this time with an edge of desperation in my voice. "Please!"

He must be in a merciful mood because he takes another possessive kiss, then lifts me off his lap and strips off his leather vest. Quickly, I take my clothes off, not caring if I tear them in my haste, and stand there naked and shivering before him. I barely have to chance to give him an appreciative glance before he enfolds me in his embrace. I feel a jolt and realise that his finger, moistened with something slippery is preparing me. His finger moves in and out slowly,  and I can't help whimpering again.

"Turn around," he whispers in my ear. I grasp the chair to brace myself as he pushes into me. Not gently, not Ares, but not too roughly either. He holds my hips with both hands, moving slightly in and out, until  I move against him, anxious for more. He laughs at my impatience.

As if he was just waiting for that signal, he thrusts his cock inside hard, making me gasp, pulls out slowly and then repeats the cycle. Gradually, he speeds up, driving into me, impaling me. He moves his hand from my hips to my cock, teasing and then stroking my hardness. Oh, it's good . . . it's so good. Just as I'm sure I'm about to come, he stops.

Stops dead. Stops fucking me, stops stroking me. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, desperate to come, but he won't let go. I growl in frustration and he laughs at me, then moves his hips against me slightly. He picks up the pace again, his cock slamming into me, his hand rough and strong on my cock. I tense and scream out 'Ares!' as I come, as he thrusts and climaxes into me.

For a few minutes there is nothing but the sound of breathing as we recover. Unfortunately, my mouth recovers before my brain does.

"Not bad," I say. "For a god."

He's torn between thumping me and laughing but luckily for me decides on the latter. His evil grin promises revenge though. Later.

The End