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When he’d first washed upon her shore, he’d been a pitiful creature. Waterlogged and dehydrated and grieving. Odysseus was always grieving. Calypso tried to be understanding, but the constant tears set her teeth on edge. Even now, he sat on the beach, tears streaming.
He’d been eager for her at first. Grateful for her presence, happy to sink into her arms and forget his cares and sorrow. The first time she’d taken him to bed, he’d been willing and happy to show his thanks for the way she’d saved his life. In those early days, he’d appreciated the distraction and comfort she offered. He’d been an attentive and inventive lover.
And then the guilt set in. Then the waves reminded him of the beaches of his native Ithaca. Or a particular hair comb reminded him of the wife he’d left behind. Then the tears began. And as the tears flowed, Odysseus’ ardor ebbed.
Calypso huffed to herself.
She’d thanked the gods on high Olympus when Odysseus had landed on her beach. He was everything she’d ever wanted. Attractive and funny and clever, clever enough to enliven their days on a lonely island. They could be happy together. And he wanted her, too. She could feel his desire every time he succumbed to her embraces.
She’d fed him, clothed him, sheltered him. Given of herself and promised him eternity by her side. And now he spurned her affection, and ached for another. A mortal.
But she could fix that. What mortal woman could compare to her shining divinity? Mortal beauty waned; even the far-sung Helen of Sparta will grow old and withered in her twilight years. What could Odysseus' wife offer him that Calypso could not?
Approaching him from behind, she wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders. With her nourishment and tending, he’d grown strong and sturdy again.
“Come inside, darling, it’s getting too hot.”
Odysseus continued to stare out over the waves.
Calypso tugged playfully at his arm. “Come, up you get. Before you burn.”
“Troy burned. It took ten long years, but she finally burned.”
Cocking her head, Calypso took in his blank eyes and blanker voice. She knew that emptiness. When the memories of his past life crept up to consume him. She hated it. “You know that isn’t the type of burning I meant. You don’t want to be red and peeling.”
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, a warning. Odysseus must have sensed her burgeoning anger, for when she gave another tug, this time he came readily. She shepherded him inside.
Once in her cool shelter, she wound her arms around him again, this time face to face. She was naturally taller than him, but took care to shrink her divine height when with him. Mortal men liked to be taller than their women, and this one was shorter than the most celebrated heroes. She didn’t want him to be self-conscious.
Calypso hung off his broad shoulders and raised her head to capture his lips. For one sweet moment, their lips moved together and the world was right.
Then Odysseus tried to back away, break their embrace.
“Please, my lady, not today. Not now. My heart is too full.”
This again. But by now, Calypso knew how to handle such noises. Calypso cupped his face in her hand gently. “Yes, now, Odysseus. You need this. You need me. Let me take care of you.”
Still he tried to squirm away, eyes darting around seeking his escape. Calypso’s own eyes narrowed, and her grip tightened again. Sharp nails just barely dug into his sculpted jaw, and his face softened.
She took him to bed and divested him of the fine robes she’d woven for him with her own hands. His body was stocky and powerful, arms and thighs corded with newly strengthened muscle. The sun and his days spent pining on a beach had bronzed his rough skin to a burnished gleam. And his dark hair was thick and lustrous.
She laid him on her bed and took a moment to admire the sight. Between his thighs lay her prize, soft now but she knew how quickly that would change.
“Please, lady,” he muttered above her head as she slid down his body. Smiling to herself in triumph, she took him in hand and stroked. She knew by now just how he liked it.
Odysseus murmured something again, but the sound was faint. Just a little longer, and he’ll be melting in pleasure. Calypso ignored his sounds, ducking her head to take him between her lips. She worked her lips over the plump head, and soon his hips were bucking up against her face and his shaft was thickening in her hand.
Men were such simple creatures, despite their protestations. This man was no different. A few licks and sucks and strokes, and all complex thought was driven from even the head of clever, wily Odysseus.
It wasn’t long before he was writhing beneath her, a slave to the pleasure she gave him. She glanced up, taking in the length of his chiseled torso. His eyes were closed in ecstasy. Calypso ignored the pale shimmer of tear tracks down his cheeks. His lips were parted, moving in words unheard. And in her mouth, he was hot and hard, pulsing eagerly. Perfect.
Calpyso felt her own divine body respond, warmth pooling in her core. She slipped a hand down between her legs to feel the moisture there.
Odysseus’ eyes flew open when she lowered herself onto his hard manhood.
“No, no wait, goddess! Please my lady, no more. Not today.”
Calypso ignored him, her own head thrown back as she chased her pleasure. He filled her so well.
When his noises grew too irritating, she draped herself on top of him and captured his lips with hers. His taste was tantalizing and smoky, much sweeter than the words he tried to say.
Taking one of his large hands in hers, she placed it on her breast. It squeezed and massaged her breast in ways that made her whole body tingle. Whatever Odysseus’ clever mind told him, his body knew the truth. He wanted her. He took pleasure from her form and beauty. His tongue danced with hers, his hand caressed and kneaded her breast, his hips pistoned up into her core over and over. He wanted her and only her.
She rode him until they both found their completion together, and then Calypso slumped against him, sated.
“Penelope,” he murmured against her ear.
Calypso’s lips tightened. No matter, she had time. He would accept his place soon.