Constantine Demopolous jerked his head back violently when his chin suddenly slammed into his chest, his exhausted and overworked body finally succumbing to the siren call of sleep. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot and as he quickly looked down he cursed himself when he saw that the last thing he had typed on his laptop was ninety-seven A's in a row. Sighing heavily as he erased the errant letters, he looked hopefully at his watch. Sighing even heavier now, to his disappointment he saw that it was still only three AM. Sadly, he still had two more hours to go before his shift ended.
Despite the fatigue, he knew that taking this job at the Metropolitan Museum of Art had been an absolute Godsend. What with the paltry salary he made as an adjunct History professor at Columbia University he was barely able to pay his regular bills, much less tuition for Grad school. These days every penny counted. New York was impossibly expensive, and even though he had two roommates to share his rent-controlled apartment, the financial wolves were always camped out at his proverbial door. The need for cash was great, but he knew this triple duty could not continue for much longer and something would have to give soon. Teaching at the University during the morning and then waiting tables in his parent's Greek Restaurant in the evening all before coming to work the midnight shift here was a pace no one could maintain.
He knew he had to keep teaching, as that was his career, so it was really down to quitting the job at the restaurant or the job here. Both positions had their plusses and minuses, with the biggest plus to the restaurant being the fact that his mother would kill him if he quit. The appeal of the security job was much easier to justify. The midnight shift was just perfect for him. With the long quiet working hours in the middle of the night, the setup gave him plenty of free time to continue working on his doctoral dissertation on the mythology of the near east.
It also was the easiest job he had ever had in his life. Quiet and relatively undemanding, it was a low-stress gig. As long as the museum did not burn down, or someone waltzed in and walked out with Van Gough's "Starry Night" under their arms, his boss really could care less what he did on his shift. Even better, because he was gone before six am, he had only met his boss once, which was fine with him. Despite being a teacher and waiter, and thus constantly having to interact with people, Constantine was really at his core painfully shy and so the solitude of the deserted museum suited him perfectly.
Tall and very handsome, this shyness had eliminated all of the natural advantages his Greek God-like appearance might have given him with the fairer sex. Despite pushing twenty-five, the number of women he had slept with could be counted on one hand, and it would have easily been no hand had they not relentlessly pursued him. Ironically enough, his primary dating partner actually was his hand. No, he much preferred the quiet life of his books and studies and relished his future after graduation. Once he had his doctorate in hand, he was fully prepared for a career of pure academics; study, research, write, publish. Rinse and repeat as directed.
Now a little more awake, Constantine got back to work. Staring down at the bank of video monitors before him, he took a big gulp of coffee as each section of the museum came up on his screen. First was the Impressionist wing; the room containing the most valuable exhibits on site and one of the most popular areas of the museum. Chocked full of Monets, Manets, and Renoirs; well over a half a billion dollars' worth of paintings were all stored in this one room alone. Looking at the time stamp in the corner of the screen, he noted it in his log "Three AM, nothing suspicious to report."
Cycling through the others; Renaissance painting, Japanese watercolor, Hungarian folk art he smiled as he knew his absolute favorite room was next. Despite knowing every inch of all of the museum like the back of his hand he never tired of seeing the next exhibit room as he had spent many hours in it. It was the Greco-Roman ancient art exhibit of course. Often when he had a severe case of writer's block, or just wanted to stretch his legs for a moment, he would come down to this wing and just hang out. Standing among the cold marble statues of the Gods and Goddesses made him feel like he was among old friends.
In one corner stood Zeus in full warrior pose. Arms outstretched and pupil-less eyes staring forward, his left arm was cocked back as he prepared to let loose with one of his famous thunderbolts. In another corner stood Mercury. Clad in his winged helmet with matching shoes, he had been carved in a perpetual run; signifying his job as a messenger to the Gods. In a third corner stood Poseidon, looking magnificent in his cool green marble skin and opal black eyes; trident in his left hand and net in his right; he stood lording over the waves as the God of the Sea. Lastly, but by far his favorite, was Aphrodite, standing dead center in the middle of the room.
Her statue was the star attraction of the exhibit and one of the major draws to the museum. Breathtakingly beautiful, her full womanly hips and large suckable breasts caused every red-blooded man who saw her have to shift his pants to hide his excitement. "Oh, how I love the art world" many a husband would remark upon first seeing her. Each was quite delighted that such an erotic vision was on display and that he could eagerly visually devour it shamelessly while simultaneously getting credit from his wife for trying to be more cultured. It was a true win-win. No, this was no doubt Constantine's favorite room and Aphrodite, of course, was his favorite Olympian. How many hours had he sat at the foot of this white marbled vision, his mind awash in erotic thoughts as he became re-inspired to resume the drudgery of his research on his dissertation?
As his central monitor filled with the familiar images, and Constantine almost robotically began to write down his report of nothing suspicious, he paused. Rubbing his eyes, he stared back at the screen in a double take. Something was not right. A figure was on the floor, and as he studied his screen again, trying to focus his eyes, he saw that it was the figure of a woman. The figure was not just any woman though, and oddly, she appeared to be glowing in gold light. Shaking his head rapidly while continuing to rub his eyes, he laughed as he closed his lids tight as if to reset his vision.
"I must be losing it! Too much work and not enough sleep is causing me to see things" he thought to himself as he closed his eyes tight. Opening them again they grew wide as the figure was still there. "OK Tino, you are obviously hallucinating or else having a very vivid dream. Now, the best thing to do is confront this mirage. That will wake you up!" he said to himself as he got up out of his chair and walked over to the elevator. Pushing the button for the ground floor he got in and nervously rode down to the main floor to investigate.
As the doors opened, a scent caught his attention and he instantly sniffed the air. Now he definitely knew this was not his over imagination and his blood started to chill. Theoretically he was there to prevent a robbery, but now that one might actually be in progress his mind went blank on what the emergency protocol was. The strange odor was the big giveaway that this was really happening. Generally, the museum smelled of oak floors, humidifiers and clean filtered air as everything was perfectly climate controlled in the Met. The slightest bit of excess light or moisture could ruin a multi-million dollar painting so no expense had been spared to tweak all of the environmental settings precisely. Now instead of those familiar neutral smells greeting him, the overwhelming perfume of Hyacinth and Sex flooded the halls. Growing alarmed, he felt his stomach roil as he slowly walked down the long corridor towards the Greco-Roman Art room.
Setting foot inside the room, his head was swimming with the intoxicating aroma that hit him in the face. Looking towards the center of the room, he instantly froze.
Yawning, and still dripping wet from her time travel, Aphrodite stood up and stretched her arms over her head, fully displaying her gorgeous ball swelling beauty to Constantine.
"Well, it appears I have an audience!" she said as she smiled and saw him standing dumbfounded in the doorway. Constantine could say nothing, his whole mind awash in a stew of both abject terror and explosive lust. No woman he had ever seen in his life was more beautiful than the vision that stood before him now. Tall and curvy to perfection, her long blonde hair perfectly framed her exquisite face, the full luxurious locks sweeping up to caress her mouth-wateringly perfect breasts. His mouth instantly shot open, drool spewing out onto the floor as he collapsed to the ground. Every erotic neurotransmitter in his brain was firing off at once. The sensual apparition was so phantasmal and wondrous, his whole body began convulsing and shaking wildly as his erection threatened to shred his blue polyester pants to shreds.
"Oops! So sorry" Aphrodite winked as she lowered her hands and partially covered her nudity. "I sometimes forget the effect my full divine manifestation can have on you mortals." Looking around the room and recognizing the other Gods carved in marble form; she scratched her head. "Now I have to ask, just where in the fuck am I?"
Panting wildly while slowly rising up onto his knees, Constantine glared up at the vision again. Now that he was a bit more acclimated, and she was slightly covered, he found he could view her without spasming. His cock, however, had not received the memo and was already drilling its way out of his shorts and leaking like a sieve.
"Who-who are you?" he asked.
Spinning around, she looked down at the man trembling on his knees and smirked. "Surely you know who I am? Why, you have statues of all of my friends here. But, since you are wanting to tempt fate by mocking the Goddess of Love I will play along. I, foolish mortal, am the Goddess Aphrodite." As she introduced herself, she opened her arms wide with a dramatic flourish and once again uncovered herself.
Now catching her again in her full naked glory, Constantine began moaning and dropped to the floor, his balls swelling to twice their natural size and feeling as if they would burst at any moment. Humping the air, his hands shook as his whole body became drenched in sweat. Her beauty was too intense, like staring into the full bright sun at noon. Her erotic heat scorching his body and soul felt like it was burning him to a crisp. He no longer was able to think, his brain flooding with every erotic thought he had ever had in his life at once. Glancing longingly at her long legs and delicate feet, his only thought was how on earth he could convince this Goddess to just allow him one tiny lick of her flesh.
Paying no attention to the squirming writhing mass of manhood on the floor, Aphrodite rubbed her temples. "Man, I must have hit my head or something as I am drawing nothing but a big blank. I don't know where the fuck I am or how I got here, but it sure is bizarre." Padding on her bare feet on the highly polished floor, she stood before the statue of Zeus and stroked her chin.
"Passable likeness I suppose" she giggled. "But the eyes are all wrong. They are missing the twinkle, and whoever carved this forgot about his cute little curl on his forelock."
Walking over to Mercury she grinned as she reached out and stroked his firm marbled buttocks. "Now this one is a bit better. Mercury old boy always had the finest ass on Olympus, all of the other Goddesses always said that." Glancing over to Constantine panting on the floor, his impressive erection quite prominently displayed in his fully tented pants, she smirked.
"But I think the artist cheated him a bit in the cock department. That boy packs some serious meat I tell ya!" As she spun back around to inspect Poseidon, she caught a full view of her own statue and froze.
