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A Rude Awakening Chapter One | A Rude Awakening Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six and Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten
A Rude Awakening Chapter Two
Ares lounged on his throne in the hall of war brooding over the vague dissatisfaction that had been plaguing him lately. Even tormenting his daughter and her irritating sidekick wasn't as much fun as it used to be. No major wars to distract him nothing, but petty squabbles that he could handle in his sleep. He thought about stirring up a major civil or invading Macedonia again, but that failed to spark any interest either. Nothing interesting at all he was bored stiff.
The feeling of another god invading his privacy perked me up a little until I recognized my son Cupid's signature. I wonder what he wants.
Popping in with out his usual showy sparkles and fluttering hearts he asked. “Hey dad can you check on Bliss and Joxer every once in while for me? I've sealed my temple so that he can't get out and cause havoc, but I left Joxer in charge of him and Bliss can be pretty overwhelming at times.”
“Why is a mortal watching `my' grandson?” I growled not happy with this turn of events. “You know I'd watch him if you needed a baby sitter.”
“I brought Joxer up to take his mind off his troubles and Bliss adores him. They got to be friends during the whole mess with Psyche.” He answered.
“What troubles?” I asked wanting to know what was going on.
“He finally realized that Sis and the harpy are together and he's feeling like hell so I thought I'd let Bliss work his magic and give Joxer a distraction from his infatuation. I gotta run dad I am way behind. Thanks, bye.” He zapped out before I could refuse.
I started to grumble, but just gave a sigh unable to work up a good mad Cupid was just being his normal self. I conjured up a mirror to keep an eye on Bliss and the mortal what's his name. Who knows he might be worth a couple of laughs as clumsy as he was.
I almost didn't recognize him. This was the first time I'd seen him out of that ridiculous excuse for armor he habitually wore. Not bad, not bad at all. I was treated to the sight of him wrestling with Bliss growling and pretending to bite his stomach. My grandson was giggling hysterically. Joxer had his nice firm ass in air as they played and I felt a stirring of desire as his snug brown leather pants hugged the taut mounds lovingly.
Without the clanging tin and the idiotic `helmet' he looked completely different. He resembled a marathon runner with his long smooth muscular body, slim and compact, not bulky at all.