The wind was blowing over the hills, strong as a raging stallion, as I looked out over the rocky shoreline. All around me the sheep grazed and bleated contentedly while I warmed my face by the setting sun. The clouds drifted lazily about and shimmered between pink and a rich golden glow. I smiled at how the color reminded me of Ajax's hair.
I laid down amongst the grasses with one arm behind my head and the hand of the other fingering the rough tunic I wore, occasionally brushing past my tender nipple. The gentle touch of my own fingers through the crude woolen fabric caused the hairs on my arm to twitch with anticipated excitement.
Ajax was one of the many Athenian merchants and craftsmen who had begun settling in our city over the past few years. Trade between that great city across the Aegean Sea and our own Mother Troy had grown a lot and people from our region and theirs had begun to mix, mingle, and settle in each other's cities.
My hand slid sensuously down my torso toward my increasingly sensitive groin as I remembered the first time I saw Ajax, down at the docks where we sold the wool sheared from our flock of sheep. I'd been daydreaming rather than making any effort to sell our products when I first spied his golden locks. His head kept rising and sinking below the gunwale of the ship he'd arrived on as he reached down to grab one of the many bundles of merchandise it carried and threw each heavy sack onto the dock with impressive ease. The sun caught his shimmering hair with such an alluring glow that I nearly sold 2 whole sacks of wool for half what they were worth.
I laughed to myself as I recalled that day, the wind sweeping up the hills from the coast was getting chillier by the minute. Ajax had been bare chested, his well-muscled arms straining against the weight of the sacks. I'd excused myself from the stand, leaving my father questioning after me, and snuck between the milling people to get a closer look. I found a spot behind a pile of watermelons with a good view, and by the gods, my breath caught in my throat as I watched.
My dick was hard under the loose fabric of my tunic. I closed my eyes while my hand reached under and gave it a slow stroke with the memory of Ajax's rippling muscles gleaming in the midday sun. His chest was lightly covered from nipple to nipple in golden hair to match the curly locks that fell over his forehead. His eyes were bright as the sky above, and his cheeks at the time were covered with the stubble of a new beard. I gave a small moan as I stroked myself harder remembering the way Ajax had stopped to wipe his brow and noticed me peeping at him from behind the fruit.
I nearly climaxed just picturing the grin he'd flashed me then. Broad, warm, and just a little bit mischievous. He had reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes and the full muscles in his arm and shoulders tensed tantalizingly with the movement. At the time, I only blushed and ducked behind the melons before making a crouched and embarrassed retreat. Now, I beat my full erection harder just imagining that smile inches from my face as the powerful Athenian merchant moved passionately between my...
"Ganymede!"
Damn!
I thought as my father's voice came faintly from behind me over the rushing sound of wind in my ears. Despite being just moments away from painting my tunic white, I tore my hand off my throbbing cock and resettled my clothing to hide it.
"I'm here!" I called, sitting up so he could see me, but I decided against standing up all the way for fear that he might discover the raised pole beneath my tunic. Instead, I wrapped my arms around my knees pretending to be enjoying the sunset and waited for him to join me.
"There you are, son," said my father when he approached. He sat down next to me and laid his walking stick between us. "You know it's nearly time to bring the sheep home."
"I know. The sunset was just so beautiful." That wasn't a lie when I had first sat down, though now the clouds were definitely darker and loomed closer.
Was that thunder?
"I'm sure it was," my father stated plainly. Then he said what he came to say, he never bothered with pretense. "Son, I want to know if you will decide to stay here and help the family with our flock. The winter is coming and I know you are well of age now and fixing to make something of yourself, but I really hope you might choose to grow our flock and help raise our family higher."
It's true I had been considering leaving the security of our city to look for my way in this world. But I lacked coin and experience, and so the idea scared me as much as it excited me. What I needed was a sign, from the gods or otherwise, to point me in the right direction. I felt honor bound to help my family rise above our current station, but the life of a shepherd held no allure for me, and I often thought that I might be able to help my family more if I became something else. I'll admit, though, that I had no idea what that something would be.
"I really don't know yet." I kept my reply as neutral as possible. My father gave a small "hmph" and resolved to stare out at the sea with me. The clouds were definitely growing closer and more ominous, and we decided then to gather the flock and hurry them home before the storm hit. We drove them over the coastal hills and down the leeward side toward our little dwelling on the outskirts of Troy. As we crested the ridge I turned my head north to see the massive walls and firelight glow of the city. Somewhere in there, Ajax was probably just sitting down to dinner in his lavish home. I imagined his home held every luxury mine lacked.
That night, word came to the village that all the grain from this year's harvest had been stored successfully and the king declared that the city would be well-stocked for the coming winter. Tomorrow would begin the official harvest celebrations.
The festival was lavish as usual. Being a man now meant that my family did not expect me home by the time the city gates closed, and I had every intention of taking advantage of that. The streets were full of music and people danced in their colorful tunics and dresses. The beer and wine flowed generously, and we all grew loose and uninhibited. A few times, as I explored the debauchery with some lads from the village, we passed couples having sex in shadowed alleyways. One woman moaned loudly as she rocked back and forth astride her lover, their clothes hanging open.
"Gods! Look at her tits bounce!" One of my companions drunkenly shouted at us, pointing. The woman obviously heard him and without breaking her stride turned to us, a pack of horny young colts, and winked. The others broke out in boisterous laughter, jittery at the woman's boldness and clearly aroused by the carnal scene in the alley.
But as they adjusted their manhoods and continued on, I couldn't help noticing her lover's sky blue eyes. It was Ajax! He now had a full beard covering his chin and it made him look, if possible, even more handsome. His fine clothing hung off his shoulders, sensually revealing his muscular torso as he worked himself deep into the woman riding him. And there was no mistaking his eyes.
He locked his gaze to my own and I froze with heat climbing up my cheeks. As we shared this bizarre moment, his thrusts became stronger and faster. The muscles in his arms tensed as he took a firmer hold of the woman's hips and held her body tightly to his while he impaled her over and over again, never breaking eye contact with me. The woman turned back to him and moaned even louder as the slapping of his hips on her buttocks began to echo off the alley walls. Her heightened vocal pleasure brought me to my senses and I turned quickly to chase after my friends, feeling flushed and more aroused than I'd ever felt before.
By the time the moon began to reach its peak, I'd been good and drunk for hours. My friends and I were enjoying a laugh and a beer in a pub somewhere (I was definitely lost) when Ajax walked through the door, his fine clothing now properly draped about his body.
My breath caught in my throat. He paid for a cup and plunged it into the communal barrel of beer before sitting down at an empty seat. He took a sip, as if to taste how it was, and smiled that disarming smile again. I guessed he liked the brew, because he immediately took an enormous gulp and set his now mostly empty cup down. Then his eyes turned directly toward mine once again and he raised a curious eyebrow.
I could feel the redness return to my cheeks and the sensation continued down my neck and into my head where it began to make the pub around me hazy. I averted my eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring.
Why's he staring at me so much?
I thought frantically, still trying to act casual around my friends.
Is he mad that we were watching him with that woman in the alley?