Author’s note: this week’s Wicked Wednesday meme is to write a tale of erotica based on something that happened on Titanic…um, yeah, but…
“Calli, this is going to be much too cold.”
“But we can heat it the fuck up.” She grinned up at him. “Chicken? Paul, are you chicken?” Unbuttoning her coat, she dropped it from her shoulders into a pile of snow. Her naked athletic physique caught shine from the sunlight above and reflected off the blues and whites of snow below. Her naked hips moved with rhythm and grace, leading her towards a wall of white. She was as tall as he was with a similar shade of black curls, albeit much longer down her pale skinned back.
“Oh, you are so beautiful and brave,” Paul said with a grin as he followed her. Unlike Calli, he was not yet prepared to divest clothing, however.
Turning around, she leaned back against the wall of ice. “Coming from the son of a god, that means a lot.”
Paul stepped forward towards her and began working to open his belt. “A bed would be more comfortable. Perhaps a Swiss ski chalet? That would give a similar…” He waved at the white and blue vista surrounding them.
Her stare silenced him. “I want that beautiful penis in me now, sir.”
He held the aforementioned penis, already hard, in his closed right fist. “You want this?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered and followed with a giggle. “And you really want to wait until we find a bed?.”
“No, I don’t.”
As Paul got close enough, she placed her arms on his shoulders and linked wrists around his neck. Lifting her left leg, she wrapped it behind his right thigh to pull him closer. “I want it hard, sir.”
Paul smiled through a blast of white breath. “You shall have it hard, m’lady.” Bending his knees, he aimed the tip of his penis and nudged her pussy open.
“Yes, right there.”
He slipped the tip just inside. “You said hard?”
“Oh, fuck yes, sir.”
He thrust with such power that the wall behind her made a sound like thunder as it cracked.
“Again!” she screamed.
He did, this time causing the wall behind her to shift and begin moving.
She cried out and clawed at him for balance as the support behind her vanished.
Wrapping one arm around her, his other wheeled in a circle to catch their balance.
“Paul!” she screamed and scrambled away from the newly formed edge. “When I said hard, I didn’t mean…” She waved an arm towards the newly created iceberg that floated away from them.
Paul grinned. “I’m sorry. I got excited.”
Her shoulders slumped as she watched the iceberg. “Should we call your dad? I mean who knows the damage that could do.”
“No, it’ll be fine.” Paul went back to Calli’s coat and spread it out as a blanket. “I think we have more important things to finish.”
“Oh, do we now?” Her smile was interrupted by a stray thought. “What is a Swiss ski chalet?”
…a few days later, in the North Atlantic, south of Greenland
Frederick pulled his coat tight around him and squinted from his viewpoint. “No stars,” he whispered to himself. “Bloody odd.”
A woman below his horizon laughed as muffled music echoed from inside the vessel.
The music did not sooth Frederick, however, as he finally made out shape to the approaching black mass. Reaching up, he grabbed the short rope to his right and rang the golden bell three times. Lifting the phone in his nest, he waited for an answer from the bridge.
“What is it?” an alarmed voice answered the other end.
Frederick didn’t care. He spoke with white blasts of breath. “Iceberg! Right ahead!”
He blinked and rubbed at his chin. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
Paul and Calli glanced at each other briefly before returning their eyes to the massive man before them.
Paul smiled and shrugged. “Nothing you can’t fix, right?”
The curly-white haired man huffed and rubbed a hand across his face and looked at Calli. “Calliope?”
She shifted her balance between feet.
He then looked to Paul. “Apollo? You know this. What is the one song you know I despise?”
Paul looked at Calli. “Seems one advantage of being a god is that he doesn’t have to deal with the linear nature of time,” he said with a laugh. Turning back to the man, he continued, “It’s that song from that movie…”
“What’s a movie?” Calli asked.
“That Celine Dion song,” Zeus’ voice thundered. He stood from his chair and caused both to shrink back in fear. With eyes wide, he gave a knowing nod. “My Heart Will Go On. That blasted song is your fault! You will pay for this.”