Chapter Text
At her age Penelope had had little concern for the implications of sharing a heat with her husband. It had taken so much for the conception of Telemachus all those years ago, that time was surely working against them by the time he stepped foot on Ithaca once more. If it hadn’t happened in the months after his return home, the fates clearly saw no need for another child to grace the halls of their palace. For while female alphas were able to carry children to term, it was such a rarity that they never even considered the risk. Alphas rarely bedded other alphas, and Penelope had no interest in finding a beta.
They were foolish to forget they were sharing a bed with a god.
Penelope looks at her figure in the looking glass and believes that she can narrow her current predicament down to the singular coupling she had had with the sea god, as there had only been one so far in their relationship. They had a tendency to share Odysseus between them, perhaps sharing a kiss or touch while Odysseus was more than happy to take the cocks of his lovers either on their own or together depending on his mood. She had had the honor of fucking poseidon on more than once, taking him while he was lax and docile, asking for her knot as he feasted on her husband’s cunt, but she had only allowed herself to be mounted once. She still had mixed feelings on the fact that the instance was carried out as a slight punishment for Odysseus after one of his moods.
Specifically, it had been one of his more antagonistic moods leading up to his heat that had likely gotten them into the mess. At least that's how her two lovers had chosen to tell their side of the story.
Poseidon had been away from his lovers on Ithaca for too long, business between the Olympians keeping him busy if not burnt out, leaving him no mind much less patience to seek the company of another. Receiving a prayer from Ithaca asking only for his attendance was the sign he took that he was afforded a break. It was all too easy to step into a still pool in the kingdom of the gods and appear upon the mortal plane.
It’s a sweltering summer day when he steps onto the beach outside of Ithaca’s royal quarters, his hair trailing behind him from the surf as he makes his way up well worn stone steps. He senses eyes, and looks up to catch Odysseus’ gaze from a railing above, brown hair as wild as ever with the sea wind blowing through it. The king raises an eyebrow and bites his lip, spurring the god into motion until he’s taking the steps two at a time with the help of his long stride.
He follows the twisting halls of the royal rooms before he finally finds Ithaca’s king, though the position he presents himself is not like any king Poseidon had had the pleasure of meeting. At least not a mortal one. Odysseus is draped over the well worn wooden railing at the edge of the bedroom’s balcony, thighs spread and shiny with slick. The king looks over his shoulder in a coy manner, as if he knows how enticing of an image he makes and had planned on it being this position that the god found him in.
Poseidon crosses to meet him in only a few steps, pressing him into the railing with a rumble as soon as he is within touching distance, burying his face in that delectable place where the man’s neck meets his shoulder. He laps at the sun tanned skin, tasting salt and the undercurrent of something sweet and earthy. Ah . Odysseus smells of preheat, but it's faint, meaning he’ll likely have a few days before things need to be in order. The omega tended to be a needy thing even leading up to his heats, and even more so when he was inevitably caught in the throes of it.
Still, he won’t leave the omega wanting when he can help it. Sharp teeth nip at the man’s earlobe playfully, his voice low as he speaks. “Tell me little king, are you in need of attention?”
A shiver races up his spine as Odysseus chuckles, angles his ass higher like a mare lifting her tail. “Maybe a bit, my lord . C’mon, it’ll just be quick.”
Poseidon rolls his eyes and bites back a growl. Odysseus using that damned title was going to be the death of him. His claws curl into the man’s hips and drag him closer, pressing him back until the mortal can’t help but feel the hard line of his cock through the folds of their clothing. His body is soft but toned below him, and Poseidon kneads at any part of him he can touch, pinching and groping to draw out any of the sweet sound the mortal is so skilled at making.
The god doesn't even bother undressing, simply leaning back enough for him to hike his robe to the side to bare his cock while Odysseus bunches his tunic at his hips, revealing thick thighs and more of his shapely ass. His cunt shines puffy and pink with arousal between his legs as he bends further over the railing, putting himself up as an offering for the god behind him.
“Is this anyway for a king to present themselves?” Poseidon runs a hand down the length of his cock as he watches the mortal, feels himself stiffen further within his grip just from watching the other debase himself. “To think, if anyone but me had been the one to walk in?”
Odysseus turns on him, putting his back to the railing. The short length of his cock hangs thick over his sex, bobbing with the weight of his arousal. Dark eyes dart down to watch the slow progress of the god’s self pleasure before they slide back up to meet the blue gaze of the other.
“Do all gods talk this much when a mortal offers themselves up so willingly, or is it just you?”
It's a dangerous line he toes, attempting to bait the god into action without pushing too far that his pride and rage ruin what he hopes will be an enjoyable afternoon. Poseidon growls and yanks him closer by the front of the tunic, claws easily tearing into the material as he brings them chest to chest.
“One of these days I'm going to find out how to shut you up.”
“I know a tried and true method that works.”
A gold blush flares on the god’s cheeks, making Odysseus grin, and Poseidon kisses him instead of giving him the satisfaction of a response. The man’s arms come up to wrap around his neck without hesitation, fingers curling into strong shoulders as he uses them for leverage to tug himself closer. Even balanced on the tips of his toes the god still towers over the mortal, but Odysseus revels in it, humming in satisfaction as large hands drag down his body, encircling his waist to squeeze before a hand slips down to grab at his ass.
“You’ve made such a mess of yourself.” A hand plays with the lips of his cunt from behind, the width of his hand slipping easily against slick thighs and inspiring Poseidon to have a bit of fun with the mortal. His voice is low as he spins him around, pressing the king over the railing and dragging his hips up with the support of a hand. “Let’s see if we can't make an even bigger mess.”
He kicks Odysseus’ feet together with one of his own as he presses closer, his cock skirting up under the man’s tunic to slip over his ass before Poseidon can reposition himself. He pulls back just enough to guide his cock down with the next roll of his hips, the head of it slipping between the king’s thighs with ease. It's nothing compared to the clutch of his sex, but the man’s thighs are warm and slippery as he rocks his hips, the wet folds of Odysseus’ cunt dragging over the shaft of his cock while the omega’s own cock hangs down just enough to bump into the head of Poseidon’s each time he pushes through the channel of toned thighs.
Odysseus pants below him, one arm reaching over his shoulder to take a hand full of dark hair, while his other hand scrambles for any sort of grip he can manage on the railing before him. The god’s cock is almost instantly dripping, and the combined wetness of their arousal drenches Odysseus’ thighs, their skin making an obscenely wet noise of contact each time their hips meet.
“Just like that!”
The god growls at the order, heat building in his gut as the scent of arousal and preheat makes his head swim, the man all but mewling for more below him.
“Ah ah, you’ll come on my cock or not at all, I don't care how pretty you sound.”
Odysseus whines, and does his best to scowl over his shoulder.
“Get on with it then.”
Poseidon is toying with him what may be minutes or hours later, dragging the head of his cock through the dripping slit before him. In preheat as he is, the little king is slick and hot with want, and a string of it stretches between them as he pulls back to enjoy the view with a smirk. Poseidon is a breath away from pressing in when he senses Penelope at his back, her firm voice following right behind her presence.
“ Odysseus. ”
The mortal whines as if he’s been denied, yet Poseidon has put no further distance between them. He glances over his shoulder to Ithaca’s queen, raising a brow in silent question, though it goes ignored as Penelope pins her husband with a firm look. Even hidden behind the bulk to a god, he wilts like a scolded puppy, all but radiating guilt. There’s something at play between the mortals that Poseidon has managed to stumble into without even knowing the game at play.
“Our guest was invited to put you in your place, not entertain your whims.”
Ah, so it’s one of those days.
The god steps away, ignoring Odysseus' pleas in order to re-cover his cock, though the material still tents with his arousal. The king makes a sweet temptation as he spreads his thighs further, the skin shiny with evidence of his arousal that glistens in the light as he wiggles his hips. Had the queen not been at his back, Poseidon likely would have given into the temptation in an instant, shoved the man forward and buried himself in his cunt before the king could utter a word. Let the man have his way, and know that he would get whatever Poseidon would choose to give him future bruises be damned.
Sadly, he knew that the tone of irritation in Penelope’s voice was likely well deserved knowing how Odysseus could be when he wasn't getting the attention he thought he should be.
“Little king, don’t tell me you’re pulling me into your schemes to disobey our queen.”
The queen steps to his side and reaches up to tug on a dark braid, using it to pull the god down into a kiss. Odysseus’s gaze is hot as he watches them, but he stays silent. Ah, so he is guilty . Penelope pulls back to level her husband with a look before returning her gaze to Poseidon.
“Our king has been acting out. I decided that he would remain unsatisfied until we could give him the strong hand he seems to be looking for.”
Poseidon raises a brow and watches as Odysseus flushes further, thighs closing and coming together as he attempts to satisfy himself. Poseidon puts a stop to it with a look, and the king whines pathetically.
“I-“
“No excuses.”
Penelope’s word is firm, and Odysseus has the gall to pout, finally accepting that he won’t be given mercy, even from their resident god. Poseidon narrows his eyes as he steps forward and Odysseus melts into his palm when he takes his chin in hand. The god is quick to curl his grip, claws digging into the stubbled jaw enough to draw a hiss from the mortal, though he makes no move to get away.
“- seidon ”
The god clicks his tongue, silencing the mortal’s begging before it can begin. “None of that. Your queen is gracious, and yet you act out. This is your own fault.” His eyes cut into the god, soft and brown as a doe’s, yet Poseidon ignores the look to glance at Penelope.
“Your duties, are they done for the day?”
She has the grace not to roll her eyes, but he can sense her thin patience, feel the irritability rolling from her before she answers. “Yes, I’ve given the staff orders that we are not to be disturbed until breakfast.”
“Clever Queen.“
Penelope offers Poseidon a hand with nothing but grace, his larger hand all but swallowing her own as he takes it into his grip. He presses a kiss to the soft skin of the back of her hand, tongue toying with the delicate veins there before she sets about tugging him along in the directions of their bedroom. The pull forces him to let go of his grip on the king’s chin, though the man stumbles a step, two, in an attempt to sustain contact that ultimately fails.
“Come my lord, he will follow.”
Poseidon watches with amusement as Odysseus lets his head fall back with a groan, obviously unsatisfied with the turn of events, and beginning to realize just what kind of mess he had managed to make for himself.
A traditional bed would have been too small for the trio, but the carved wedding bed in Ithaca’s royal quarters offers just enough space for two mortals and a god to lounge in comfortable closeness. Odysseus lays among the pillows, sulking as he watches his partners in the center of the bed, all soft sounds and easy touches that they enjoy without him. He had been relegated to the head of the bed upon their arrival, something he had protested greatly until Poseidon had offered to gag him should he be unable to keep his mouth shut on the matter.
Adaptive as always, he changes direction, pointing out things he knows his lovers are weak for, the spots and acts that make them melt like a candle in the Greek sun. “She likes it when you-” Or “My love, his ears are sensitive if-” It isn't tolerated for long before dark eyes are cutting into the omega, their gazes dominant before words can even be uttered, though those words make his lovers’ expectations clear.
“Odysseus, we will find something else to keep your mouth occupied, and it will not be the enjoyable experience you expect.”
Poseidon is only able to enjoy Penelope’s attention for a few peaceful moments before he sees the king move out of the corner of his eye. It’s all too easy to use a long limb and a large hand to catch both of the man’s wrists in one hand before he can even reach the hem of his chiton.
“Determined to misbehave, aren't you?”
“Just getting a little warm, thought I’d take this off.”
Odysseus gives him a rakish grin, though it quickly disappears under the god’s unwavering look. Poseidon yanks the man closer, positioning him on his back without sparing him a glance before he turns back to Penelope with a smile, using his free hand to pluck at her bottom lip with his thumb.
“Would you humor me my dear?”
Penelope raises a brow, tongue swiping out to lick at the god’s finger before she answers. “I suppose so. What would you ask of me, my lord?” She pays no attention to the king laying prone between them, though her quick mind is curious of what the god has planned for him. The god’s eyes seem to darken like storm clouds as he looks her up and down with an indulgent smile. “Oh just to move our activities a bit. I think this will make things more enjoyable for most of us .”
The implication that Odysseus will enjoy things to a lesser extent is only acknowledged by the mortal man in the form of verbal protests as Poseidon scoops Penelope up effortlessly, and places her atop Odysseus. Her ass settles onto the toned flesh of his stomach, and the god guides her knees higher, lifting one leg, then the other until they are positioned just so . Leaning back to survey his handiwork, he smirks as the man below them looks at him with a spark of defiance, tests the hold of his wife’s body upon his own.
While Penelope’s weight holds Odysseus down by the middle, her knees and shins pin the man’s forearms to his side, pushing him into the bedding with the smallest use of leverage. Though the man can’t see it, he feels large hands guiding his own touch to curl around Penelope’s ankles. He opens his mouth to speak, but Poseidon cuts him off before he can utter a word.
“Can you breathe?”
“I-yes.”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
He wiggles a bit from where he’s been pinned, tests what little give the position has in regards to his movement, and finds himself suitably restrained. No physical discomfort makes itself known though, so he feels confident with the simple answer of. “No.”
“Good. You will stay there, and you will behave.” His eyes flash to Penelope, as the god continues. “Tell me if he breaks the rule.”
“Of course.”
Penelope is out of reach but maddeningly close, her sex hidden beneath folds of linen as she sits atop him like the queen she is. She looks regal as she sits atop him, straight backed and neutral faces while he feels as if he can smell her arousal despite his mortal senses. Poseidon moves to Penelope’s side and gently plucks at the clasps of her gown, reverently placing them on a small bedside table as each one is removed. It’s a sweet sort of torture as her body is revealed inch by inch while Odysseus can only watch. Soft kisses are peppered across freckled shoulders, and she seems to sink further onto Odysseus as she relaxes.
The god is the one to tug the gown free from her body, careful maneuvering meaning her hair remains beaded and immaculate and the sight of it compared with flushed skin and red bitten lips makes Odysseus’s cock twitch as he gazes up at his wife. She wears nothing beneath her gown, meaning her cock is free to rise to attention with ease after she’s freed from the material. It's maddening to see her on display, thighs spread as her wetness spills onto Odysseus’s abdomen from her cunt and the flushed head of her cock.
Poseidon sinks down her body, trailing kisses over heavy breasts and the softness of her middle. He suckles marks into her tan skin as he goes, anointing her with blooms of blood below the skin pulled to the surface by his eager mouth. His gaze drags slowly up her body until he meets her eyes, his mouth a breath away from the head of her cock.
“May I worship you, Penelope of Ithaca?”
She tilts her head just so, lifting her chin as she takes in the form of her husband pinned beneath her before turning her gaze to the god lounging at their side. A gold flush colors his cheeks, and the stiff cut of his arousal makes the draped material at his waist tent away from his body. She feels in charge and powerful, but realizes that she is still below the god no matter their positions. Penelope looks into his blue eyes and smiles softly, one hand rising to brush dark hair from his face as she speaks. “As you wish.”
She receives only a sharp smile in response before he descents upon her, drawing the very breath from her lungs.