What happens when mortals stop worshiping their gods? Many of them, being mortals, often mistakenly surmise that they cease to exist. Nobody forgot the gods of Olympus, though all save a small handful stopped paying them homage. Yet they lived, for they were gods. It was the Olympians, above all others, who got more fascination than any others from watching the mortals go about their lives, worship or no. Hephaestus had o...

For this next part, I wasn't present for much of what happened, so I’ll let Cheryl tell it: Having sex with Clarissa awoke something new in me. I’d accepted that I was into girls on my vacation with Amanda, but Clarissa helped me be at peace with it. I woke up the next morning in her arms, and everything we’d done the night before came back to me. Not just the pleasure, but the comfort, the reassurance, and the trust. I w...

“I should probably get going. I don't want to impose on you any longer.” My friend Cheryl, a cute blonde from Albany, stood up. Her husband Dennis stood with her. I got up, too. “It's really no trouble. We love having you over. Please come by whenever you want.” I put an arm around her waist and led her to the front door. My husband walked alongside us. “I’d feel like I was imp–” I spun her around to face me. “You're not...

The last of the dishes is cleared from the table, and I put them in the sink. I scrub the plate I’d eaten from and hand it to my father. Dinner had been just me and him, eating in the apartment we share above his tailor shop, in complete silence. It’s been this way for months. “You did remember to lock up, right?” I nod. “Of course, Papa.” “You wound up and covered all the fabric?” Another nod as I hand him the scrubbed p...

Late on a Friday night, I sit at the table in my dining room. My wife Kenna sits kitty-corner left of me, enjoying the butter and garlic-roasted pork chop, sautéed green beans, and herbed mashed potatoes I made for the both of us before she got home, a napkin tucked into her collar to keep her classy black halter dress from getting soiled. “More wine, Lacey?” she asks, holding up the bottle. I nod my assent and she fills...

Lucianna tied the front sash of her sheer robe, her coffee-colored nipples not the least bit difficult to see. “So, who did you say this guy was to you?” “I guess you could say he was one of my boy toys,” I ran circles over her lower back, “You’ve met him. He was working at the café the day you walked into my life.” She nods. “Ah. That guy. Yeah, he was pretty cute. I didn’t know there was anything more between you and hi...

The shopping trip hadn't gone the least bit how I'd planned. Half of the things I wanted were out of stock, so I had to use second-rate substitutes. Also, the scanner in the checkout lane barely worked, the doors opened so slowly I ran my cart into them, and I almost got run over in the parking lot. It put me in such a stressful mood, I knew Clint would be put off by it, and with how hard he worked, he didn't deserve that...

For about two years after I'd first met Lucianna, my life was better than it had ever been. We still didn't live together, but we visited one another regularly. We talked, we made love, we cooked for one another in the nude (save aprons, since nipple burns are no fun), and we watched movies together while she regaled me on her artistic interpretations of them. My life was far richer for having her in it. One day, though,...

Lucianna, like usual, could not stop apologizing about the dirtiness of her apartment hallway. I decided not to bother her about it. I'd said my piece, and she probably couldn't help it, being half-Japanese. Apologies, I had noticed, came to her as easily as breathing. “If what you've promised me lives up to my expectations,” I simply said, “That will more than make up for having to walk through here.” “Oh, I promise, you...

“Are you sure you want to do this? You're probably used to nicer places than this,” Lucianna fiddled with her keys as we stood outside her apartment. The fraying blue carpet didn't look too great, and I was more than a little concerned by the black mold stains on the ceiling. “Please. I lived out of my car for a year and a half after I got out of college. You should've seen the places of some of the guys I slept with then...

Despite her numerous assurances to the contrary, I could never get my mind off my worry that Lucianna was going to lose interest in me due to the long wait. When I was finally able to get a babysitter three weeks later, she was still very much interested in going to dinner with me. And what a dinner it was, with an even better dessert. She left her apartment wearing a pair of black stilettos and a red v-cut cocktail dress...

“Was that vanilla or white chocolate?” “Hmm?” I snapped out of my daze. “Oh, yeah. White chocolate. Sorry, Enrique, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” “It’s okay, Rissa,” he gave me his usual charming smile. “A large white chocolate Grinder, okay. And, uh, should I help you out again tonight?” “Oh, you’re a sweetheart, Enrique, but I’m just not feeling up to it. Sorry to disappoint you.” I shook my head ruefully.  “No problem, M...