Trapped for decades, Aphrodite, goddess of desire, has finally been freed. Now in a mortal's body, she must shape her host to her will.
Phaedra Laskaris doesn't want a man. But since the strange statue crossed her path, her will has not been her own. Her eyes are straying to her foster-son, Nick. And one amazing night she gains a new body, a new purpose, and her son becomes Aphrodite's Lover!
She barely remembered the drive home. By the time she arrived back at her apartment, her slacks were unzipped and gaping wide. At every stoplight her hands had dipped helplessly below the waistband, frantically fingering her clitoris.
She stumbled up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Nikki, empty to everything but the insatiable need inside her. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to slot the key into the lock, and once inside, she left her clothes behind her as she made a beeline for the bedroom. By the time she pushed open the door to her bedroom, her slacks were down to her knees, and she half-hopped, half-hobbled to the bed, where the shoved them down and off her legs with quick jerks of her arms.
She laid back with a groan, her eyes closed. Unbidden, her right hand plunged into her cleft, two fingers rigid and slightly curled. She had never masturbated often. But this was less a desire than a need, a panting need to climax. Her free hand squeezed her paltry breast, fingers clenching, as her hips rose up to meet her thrusting fingers.
Goddess...Goddess, please. I need...I need...
~I can grant you what you wish,~ a voice seemed to murmur in her ears. ~But there will be a price. There always is. Great gifts demand great sacrifices.~
“Anything,” she panted. “Please!”
~So be it.~
It started at the same time as her climax, that too-seldom-experienced feeling of joyous release. As the muscles of her belly and womb tensed and relaxed, as her mind spiraled upward in bliss, the pounding heartbeat in her ears and the thrusting rhythm of her fingers began to merge.
And her body changed.
She first noticed it in her breasts. Looking down over her chest to the slightly rounded expanse of her belly, she gasped. Her breasts were growing. The skin over her chest seemed to tighten, then expand, her flat, saggy bags blossoming with every breath. As she watched, disbelieving, the new flesh spilled up and over her clutching hands. They grew in a pulsing rhythm, each heartbeat increasing her bust-size. She filled her hands with them, as if she could stop the growth, somehow force her body back into its flat-chested rut. But the feel of her hot fingers made her tilt her head back and moan in wanton pleasure.
And that was not the only change. Her entire body was slowly transforming before her very eyes. Her skin grew richer, smoother, darker, losing its sallow hue. It almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. The low rise of her belly sank, her navel becoming a wonderful dimple in a smooth plane of taut skin. While her waist drew in, her hips grew slightly, the jutting bones of her pelvis now clothed with sleek flesh, wonderfully curved. Her thighs were more attractive as well, no longer skinny, but subtly different, drawing the eye.
Pain spiked in her left side, and her head spun as she gasped in agony. Then her eyes filled with sudden tears. Her scars, her burn marks, the physical residue of a fear-filled night thirty years in the past, were disappearing. Ropy, knotted masses of skin were transformed into unmarred flesh, smooth and sensitive as a child's. Even as she watched, the last traces of her burns faded away.
And then it stopped. She lay for a moment on her bed, gasping in confusion and sudden, heart-stopping wonder.
A voice spoke in her mind, pure and clear and filled with vast amusement. ~Well, my handmaiden? Do you approve of my work?~
Phaedra Laskaris fainted dead away.
The finale of "Aphrodite's Children." For twenty years, the Goddess Aphrodite has lived with her chosen, Phaedra. But Phaedra's daughter is approaching adulthood. When an ancient evil returns to trouble her family, Phaedra and her daughter, Titania, must make a fateful choice. Will Titania allow the goddess to merge with her?
“I think our daughter might be a bit of a voyeur,” Nick commented, as they closed the bedroom door behind them.
“Not surprising, since one of her mothers is a bit of an exhibitionist,” his wife replied. She unfastened her chiton, letting it fall to the floor.
“Just one?” he teased, as she walked into his arms. Her clever fingers found the buttons of his shorts, pulling them down with a quick jerk of her arms. As soon as they hit the ground, she was pressed up against him, her large breasts and her cherry-colored nipples pushing into his chest as she raised her mouth hungrily to his.
“Maybe two,” she murmured around his lips. His cock had risen, and she rubbed herself against him, making him groan with want. “I don’t know why. Showing off for her makes me…hot. I’m proud of my body. I’m proud that you want me. Showing her how horny both of us are for each other makes me even hornier.”
He lifted her breasts in his hands, kissing her nipples in turn, smiling as her skin rose in little goosebumps. “I’m glad you decided to come up here, though. From the way things were going, I thought one of you was going to invite her over to share.”
He meant it jokingly, and stumbled to a halt when he caught the frankly appraising frown on his wife’s face.
“I didn’t mean it!” he said quickly, trying to cover up his blunder. “Phaedra. You know I would never…betray her that way. Or you.”
“Hush.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t. Not on purpose.” Her eyes grew hazy and distant, and he knew she was having an internal conversation with Aphrodite.
One, that for some reason, he was not being invited to participate in.
She blinked, her eyes focusing on him, and she smiled and kissed him, though she did not share whatever dialogue had just taken place. Turning to the bed, she lay on her stomach, her rear canted perkily in the air. In the low light, he could still see the petals of her nether-lips, parted slightly. A light, flowery smell began to pervade the air of the room, and as the scent of his wife’s holy musk hit his nostrils, he joined her.
“How do you want me?” he asked, covering her body with his and kissing her neck.
In response, she opened her legs invitingly and pushed her bottom higher, the silky skin brushing against his erection, driving him half-mad with desire. “Long. And slow,” she whispered.
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