Disclaimer Hercules
and Iolaus belong to MCA/Universal and Renaisance Pictures. They
were used without permission. No copyright infringement intended. No money
was made.
A RENDERING
by Queenie
Late afternoon.
The burnished sun hung low over the distant snow-capped mountains, its gentle
beams fanning out across the lush, verdant landscape beneath them.
The little house nestling at the base of the mountains exuded a friendly
air, with its thatched roof, pale blue walls, golden shutters and the creeping
tendrils of white smoke emerging from the pale yellow chimney.
The tiny abode was surrounded by a multitude of flowers of every hue imaginable.
Pinks, greens, blues, yellows, purple and vibrant reds. Although the display
seemed, to the casual observer, to be haphazard, a more careful study revealed
that there was some order to the array - that the unusual and alarmingly
colourful arrangement was deliberate, calculated, thoughtful. The planter
had obviously planned the display to flaunt the blooms to their greatest
effect, and the riotous colours were well-matched, each of them proudly
parading not only their own blossoms but complementing those of the other
plants on either side.
This was the house of an artist. Someone who loved colours and beauty and
enjoyed sharing that love with others.
It was a house where visitors were always welcomed with open arms, treated
to tea and a listening ear and - if the artist was in the mood and the visitor
was amenable, where one could leave with a scroll containing a brilliant
rendition of oneself, courtesy of the woman who lived there.
Hercules and Iolaus had heard of the artist's work, and had actually seen
some for themselves. It had intrigued them both, but it was Hercules' suggestion
that they pay the artist a visit. Iolaus was agreeable to the idea, although
slightly puzzled, and they soon found themselves heading toward the pretty
little home.
Hercules' knock on the brightly painted door yielded a swift response. The
sound of light footsteps was heard and moments later the door swung open,
and they were greeted with a pretty smile and a cheerful, enthusiastic welcome.
After they had made themselves comfortable within, where drinks had been
handed out and introductions made, Hercules came to the point of their visit.
After being impressed by the paintings and drawings they had seen around
town, he had decided to ask the artist if she could consign a new image
to paper. That of his best friend and lover, Iolaus.
The attractive brunette sat for a long moment studying the golden hunter,
as he gaped in surprise at his friend. He had had no inkling as to the demigod's
motives in visiting this woman, and was both astonished and flattered at
the reason. Slowly, he became aware that she was staring at him and shifted
uncomfortably, feeling a tad self-conscious.
Her lovely smile soon put him at ease as she apologised for making him feel
uncomfortable and then readily agreed to the request - on one condition.
That she also be allowed to draw the demigod.
Hercules exchanged glances with his friend and, seeing the anticipatory
light in the gentian blue eyes, gave his permission.
So, she set to work. The drawings took her a little longer than usual because
she wanted to capture every tiny nuance in their magnificent bodies and
beautiful faces, every single shade in the auras which surrounded them.
When she had finished, she peered at the rendition with critical eyes. It
was, without a doubt, the best work she had ever done, and yet, in her opinion,
had failed to capture the special, yet elusive qualities which shone like
a million suns from the heart and soul of each of them.
Disappointed, she turned the picture over to them and there was an audible,
simultaneous gasp from both men. The depiction was incredible. Not only
were their fine, muscular bodies displayed in all their golden glory, muscles
bunching beneath satin skin, tawny, deeply tanned chests rippling, soft,
silken hair flowing around grinning, gorgeous faces, but the azure and gentian
eyes were filled with longing and desire, their deep, abiding love for each
other wrapped around both of them like a protective blanket, shining, blinding
in its intensity.
"That ... that's amazing!"
Hercules voice was hoarse, his eyes still riveted on the drawing even as
he spoke.
"Gods, he's right," agreed Iolaus, equally husky, and biting back
a moan as he saw the love and desire reflected in the picture echoed on
the face of the demigod beside him. "How much ...?"
"It's free," she told them, coming to stand behind them, staring
at the paper, trying to see what they saw. They were obviously deeply affected
by it and, although she was unable to see it through their enamoured eyes,
she felt a frisson of satisfaction. "It was a pleasure to have you
visit my home and be able to do this small thing for you."
A couple of hours later, the two were on their way, the picture rolled up
and tied with a red ribbon, safely deposited in Iolaus' sack.
Stopping for the night beside a lake, surrounded by large, sheltering trees,
they unrolled the scroll and stared at it once again. Then, as one, their
eyes met, and, letting the paper fall from suddenly nerveless fingers, leaned
toward each other, their lips meeting in an earth-shattering kiss of such
intensity, such passion that it threatened to steal away the breath from
both of them.
Before very long, the meal they had planned had been forgotten, clothing
discarded, and they were making slow, passionate, languid love beneath the
canopy of the trees.
As Hercules ran his hands tenderly over the tawny body of the hunter, travelling
down familiar territory, pausing every now and again to admire and teasingly
stroke the soft, silken flesh, he caught a glance of the picture from the
corner of his eye. The gentian blue eyes on the paper stared back at him
with an expression of carnal lust and the sensuous lips curled in a secretive
smile meant only for him. He tore his eyes away from the image to find an
exact replica of the picture before him, and bent to kiss that softly curved
mouth, taking it, possessing it, even as he moved to possess the golden
temple beneath him.
Iolaus melted into the kiss, his hands trailing paths of fire down the demigod's
broad back, kneading into knotted muscles, gripping strong shoulders, entangling
themselves in honey-brown hair.
The two forms writhed together, flesh meeting flesh, burning, impassioned,
limbs entangling with each other, hearts thumping in cadence, until the
fire within threatened to consume them both.
Eventually, Hercules came up for air, arching his back, entrapped by a pair
of slim, strong legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He levered upwards
slightly, gazing down into the flushed face of his lover, and drowned in
the pools of liquid blue which returned the gaze. Both were breathing heavily,
their lungs aching with the need to inhale oxygen, their heated bodies aching
with the need to reach completion together.
Slowly, their lips met again, tenderly, sweetly, softly, and the demigod
reached down between them to grasp the upright, straining cock of his partner,
running one finger over the weeping head and smiling at the gasp this elicited.
Pulling gently at the foreskin, he began to milk the stiff penis, wincing
slightly as Iolaus' hands dug into his arms, and quickening his action accordingly,
watching as the blond head was flung back, passion and imminent fulfilment
etched on the fine features.
Pausing for a moment, he manoeuvred himself into position between the raised
legs and removed his hand from the fully engorged member, hushing the slight
whimper with another kiss. His hand reached behind the scrotum, brushing
past with a teasing stroke, and found the tight hole behind. One digit entered
the aperture carefully, pushing past the tight ring of muscle until it was
comfortably within, then it was joined by one, then two more, which almost
lost their place when they found the prostate and the hunter jerked violently,
a barely stifled scream escaping his parted lips.
"Are you ready?" Hercules enquired of his trembling golden warrior,
running appreciative fingers through the soft, burnished curls which lay
in disarray around the beautiful face from which blue eyes, almost black
with wanton desire, burned into him.
"Yes," gasped Iolaus, trying to calm his thumping heart by sliding
one hand across the broad chest above him, tweaking at one dark nipple,
and smiling at the gasp this induced. "Yes, oh gods, Herc, now. Do
it now!"
Another kiss and then the fingers were removed. Before Iolaus could miss
the pressure, something much larger, wet and pulsing was pushed into the
outer rim of his anus. The pain washed over him as it inched its way forward,
then, at last, pain was replaced by pressure then pleasure and he sighed
deeply.
Hercules echoed the sigh then, unable to bear the incredible tightness in
his groin any longer, he began pushing in and out, his impressive shaft
brushing past and hitting that sweet place in the hunter time and time again;
his hand returning to the task of pumping the cock trapped between them.
Simultaneous gasps and moans emerged from the clearing to anyone within
hearing distance as the two lovers rocked and writhed and pumped, their
lovemaking taking them to the edge and forward until they fell, with a dual
cry of completion and orgasmed together, Iolaus' pearly seed spurting upward,
covering Hercules hand and his own chest, Hercules ejaculate filling the
hunter's anus as stream after stream shot out of the demigod's penis.
Sated, at last, they fell into each others arms, exhausted and content.
The blond lifted his head from the shelter of Hercules' strong neck to glance
again at the picture.
" That ... was amazing, Herc," he sighed, happily.
Hercules grinned, running his fingers through the mop of unruly flaxen hair
at chin level. "Well," he replied, "I'm glad you enjoyed
it."
"Oh yeah," The smaller man nestled deeper into his lover's warm
embrace and toyed idly with one brown nipple on the strong chest. He giggled.
"What?" demanded the demigod, biting his lip as the small hand
roamed idly across his chest, flicking the other small nub playfully.
"Well," Iolaus said, looking up and meeting the azure gaze, "I
don't think you've ever been inspired by a picture before!"
FINIS.
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