Kirke, the Sorceress

Kirke leaned on her elbows out of the window, which had been her favorite spot for centuries. When she pulled the light summer tunic up over her ass, she felt the light summer breeze coming from the sea, cooling her ass, pussy and whole body from behind. It was midsummer and at midday the heat could only be endured in the shallow water on the sandy beach. Kirke saw a constantly changing view of the ships passing by on the sea. The purely human captains could not see Kirke's enchanted island, they sailed very close to it, so close that Kirke could see the sailors and make her choice when she wanted to have one to fuck. The sailor disappeared for a split second and was immediately back again, as if he had not spent hours fucking the beautiful young woman. There was only one captain who magically found his way to the island and brought fresh food and other things every month.

Up, on the hill above her beach, lay the large village, which offered a very tranquil life. The inhabitants could of course see neither the sandy beach nor Kirke's beautiful house, only the children. Kirke loved children, they were so innocent and trusting and had a completely uninhibited sexuality. Kirke looked at the sea and at the sailors on the ship, but she found no pleasure in them. Their hearts were black, their souls stunted and their thoughts insignificant. That's how most of them were, and she never teleported a guy like that to fuck.

Kirke's thoughts wandered. As a little girl, she was allowed to go to the royal palace with her father; he worked as a chief of the palace guard. She would stroll around for hours, going from guard to guard. They wore a tunic that covered half of their thighs, but as a little girl she could see their cocks and scrotums from below. She loved looking at the cocks, because they all looked different. Some of the older girls flirted with the grim guards, who weren't actually allowed to talk. But the girls touched their cocks unashamedly, they all did. They giggled like silly geese when they teased a cock until it became stiff. The little girl marveled at the miracle of the erection and how the tip of the penis fought its way through the foreskin. The guard chased the cackling geese away; they couldn't use an erection right now. But little Kirke had often observed that a girl was allowed to rub the cock and the guard, his face bright red, squirted on the stone slabs.

At sunset they went to sleep, Kirke snuggled up naked to her tired father and rubbed sexually aroused her pussy and clit on his hip. He had become early a very rich man, he owned his own great estate, which the Greeks called Oikos, and in which he had absolute power over everyone there. He had married quite early three girls in a row, who bore him a son and died after giving birth. He let his sons marry, but he was the only one to fuck their young wives and fathered many grandchildren with them. He had a good, reliable cock and fucked one, two, or all three of his sons' wives every night until the sons were 30. His sons watched him fuck and ejaculated only from the outside onto their wives' pussies in thick jets. Only if the woman was already visibly pregnant was the son allowed to fuck his wife, after his father had fucked the wife contentedly. In this respect, he was ruthless and strict. Only when the son was 30 was he allowed to leave and found his own Oikos. When the last son had left, he married a very young demigod, Cliteis, whom he had won at dice from the father of the gods, Zeus, because he was more clever at cheating than Zeus. He fucked Zeus' 13 years old daughter day and night tirelessly, until she gave birth to a daughter, Kirke. Zeus now heard how he had been cheated out of his daughter, the daughter whom Zeus loved to bits and who he had fucked her since she could let him fuck her. Trembling with rage, Zeus kidnapped his daughter to his mountains, fucked her with greatest pleasure and made her a bunch of children. Cliteis loved Kirke's father Demetrios with all her heart, she desired him sexually and secretly teleported him during her many pregnancies to fuck him for hours. But in the real world he was only gone for a split second, for the blink of an eye.

Demetrios' mother was extremely rich, she was considered the best hetaera in the country, or at least the most expensive. Little Demetrios, fathered by the King of Attica, sometimes sneaked into his mother's bedroom to watch the fucking. He watched very carefully as his mother's long, white fingers guided the guest's cock to the entrance of her cunthole and let the cock penetrate. The little one got an erection and excitedly tugged at it while the big cock pushed into the cunthole tirelessly. His eyes widened when his mother clung to the man during her orgasm and he squirted inside. When he had left, she smiled contentedly. But if he didn't do a good job, she was left aroused and unsatisfied. Her fingers played with her clit until they triggered an orgasm. Demetrios knew all of this very well and once asked her if he could fuck her too? She took him in her arms, smiling, and he was allowed to penetrate her. He had never experienced anything more beautiful and he fucked her excitedly. He was still far too young to ejaculate, but he had an orgasm. She explained everything to him in a friendly way and he was allowed to fuck her again and again. He learned to ejaculate and soon slept with her every night because he had to ejaculate very often.

His mother organized an 'evening of love' two or three times a year, which brought the household together. Everyone was allowed to fuck everyone else, they were only a man and a woman. Demetrios was allowed to go first and fucked his mother, then everyone started to mate in pairs. Everyone could finally grab the one who was otherwise unattainable. Everyone was allowed to fuck the mistress and everyone else too, until everyone was exhausted. Demetrios' mother always let a girl with the stiffest clit fuck her clit at the end, she loved that very much and everyone formed a semicircle to watch this rare, very horny spectacle.

Kirke's father told his little girl the whole story truthfully and honestly, of how he fucked and impregnated his sons' wives, how he had swindled Kirke's mother Cliteis away from Zeus and how Kirke was born. Also that Zeus had kidnapped Cliteis again and had many, many children with her and she cheated on Zeus, fucking him in secrecy and regularly. Kirke often cried because of this, because she would then be a granddaughter of Zeus, but she never felt any divine blood in her veins. She loved her father very much, because he at least had a divine great cock that she was allowed to caress and cuddle from earliest childhood on. He didn't want a new wife, a new mother for Kirke. It was enough for him that his little daughter rubbed his cock every night with childlike enthusiasm and made him squirt. Then the little girl masturbated herself to a fine orgasm and then they fell asleep. It was a quiet, peaceful life.

Finally, thought Kirke, finally her father noticed that she was growing small breasts and that a delicate fluffy down was sprouting above her slit. He hugged her again and again, his little wife, and he caressed, kissed and licked her little pussy to orgasm. He and his rough fingers were too clumsy to rub her clit properly, so she always did it herself when he gave up. She kept hearing the stupid geese chattering about losing their virginity and fucking, half of it was lies and the other half was pure nonsense. She only spoke to her father about these things, he knew almost everything and if not, he was honest, he would never lie to his little daughter, his everything.

Kirke saw another ship with an uninteresting crew. Her thoughts flew back to the evening she became Daddy's wife. It was not his decision and took him a little by surprise when she told him that she now wanted to lose her virginity and be fucked like an adult. So he nodded kindly and asked, how old she was. 12, she said, most 12‐year‐old girls have already lost their virginity and do fuck in secret. "We don't need any secrets, my lovely girl," he said, "if you want to be deflowered now, that's fine with me. And if you want to be fucked now, that's fine with me too. Just remember that I'm already 65 and a bit lame. But you're smart enough to understand that." Kirke nodded, because it was true that she was already very smart, much smarter than her teachers.

They did the deflowering together and very carefully. She guided his cock to the entrance of her pussyhole and whispered the magic words in a low voice, "Look, revered Goddess, it is my free and own will that he may tear the curtain and his cock may enter my sanctuary! We honor and love you, we ask for your favor and your blessing!" These words all honorable virgins said. Now he was allowed to penetrate, the hymen stretched and tore without much pain. He penetrated very deeply, his big cock stretching her little pussy hole wide until his cock reached the end. He also said the traditional words, "Be my wife, little Kirke!" and she nodded happily and kissed him on the mouth. From now on she was allowed to get him hot with French kisses before fucking. She was amazed at how well and effectively her father could fuck. But she was far too excited now to have an orgasm before he squirted.

They fucked every night until he was exhausted. She became more and more womanly, but she didn't have her period and therefore no child. Every evening after fucking, Kirke went to the sandy beach, masturbated gracefully and passionately and went into the water to wash herself. The Goddess was very pleased with how decently and chastely the 22‐year‐old Kirke lived and faithfully fucked her old father, whose only joy in old age was some sex. She had never fucked anyone else, although all the men who had eyes in their heads besieged her day after day. She let the most intrusive men show her their cocks and took each one in her hand to examine it. She kept pulling back the foreskin and letting the glans pop out. She really enjoyed that very much and only stopped when the men came to ejaculate. With a smile she let the men masturbate and squirt on the floor. She took the cocks in her hand again if they were not yet relaxed and squeezed and rubbed them until they were stiff again and continued, until he was ready to ejaculate again. Then the guy was allowed to continue masturbating! She laughed heartily because he had to masturbate in public in front of onlookers and that was embarrassing and humiliating for most of them.

The Goddess had great respect for Kirke's father, who was one of the few mortals who had ever tricked Zeus. So the Goddess had decided to take him into her 'forest of pleasures' after his death. And he had fathered Kirke as a quarter goddess, the clever fellow!

Kirke was unswervingly faithful and the Goddess decided to perform a miracle. She sent one of her sea children to the beach, where Kirke dried herself after her bath.

Kirke pressed her thighs tightly together chastely as the young man rose from the sea and walked straight towards her. This was her way of signaling to the stranger that she was not to be fucked. She froze in amazement, she had never seen such a beautiful and large cock before, and she had already seen all the cocks in the area. The youth sat down next to her. "Greetings, lovely Kirke, I am Mooai, a son of the Goddess who wants to do you a favor. We will fuck today!" Kirke shook her head firmly. "As inviting as your beautiful and big cock is, young Mooai, I only fuck with Daddy, I have sworn loyalty to him!" She nodded to confirm, "that's right how it is!"

Mooai lowered his head. "Your father died an hour ago and is now in the lap of the Goddess!" Kirke cried out, you don't joke about that! she cried, prove it! Mooai made a gesture and opened her eyes. There lay her father, smiling even in death. She lowered her head, "may you rest in peace!"

Kirke saw her father wandering through a forest, his body young and full of elasticity again, his cock hanging down mightily. There were hundreds of young women in the forest who smiled at him. When his cock slowly got erect, the girl smiled, turned her back to him and bent forward until her fingertips touched her toes. Her buttocks smiled at him, her little cunthole winked invitingly. This was one of his favorite positions and he fucked the girl from behind with a happy smile, holding her at her womanly hips and squirted into her pleasurehole with a proud roar. He walked on, relaxed, until he met the next willing creature. Kirke wanted to call out to him how much she loved him and how happy it made her, that he had thousands and thousands of girls to fuck, but Mooai made a gesture and the image disappeared.

Mooai explained the miracle to her. He would come to her every year on the same full moon night and fuck her three times. She could wish for something after each fucking and if it was nothing bad, he would grant the wish, three wishes every year. She listened to herself and heard the Goddess whispering as if she were sitting next to her. So it came about that every year, Kirke fucked the son of the Goddess, Mooai, three times in one night, was really fucked three times wonderfully and he had been granting her wishes for over 400 years now.

She got her magic island that no one else could see. She was supplied with food and everything every month, she could teleport sailors with pure hearts to her for sex. She remained 22 for all times, her beauty remained too forever. She fucked drowned lovers and gave them a new life in her enchanted village. She asked to love and be loved by children, sexually. Her wishes were clever, she had a year to think about them. Fucking Mooai was a highlight of the year, he fucked her so well as nobody else and she enjoyed his lovemaking excited like a bride.

The midday heat was over, Kirke ate a bunch of grapes and drank a cup of cooled wine. A noisy crowd of children approached her window. "Andromache will do it to her brother Demetrios for the first time, she has never done it before!" the children shouted in confusion. The children knew Kirke and knew how they could please her. Demetrios stepped forward and stuck his little boy's cock in through the window. Kirke looked at the cute thing and touched it caressing. Then Andromache, a shy little girl with blonde braids, stepped next to her brother and grabbed his cock. She pursed her lips with the effort and masturbated him quite well. Andromache pushed his cock forward so that Demetrios squirted onto Kirke's full breasts. Kirke clapped her hands and applauded, "bravo, Andromache, you did well! And now, children, come in, because Demetrios is fucking me now!"

With loud screams and screeches the children streamed into the house and formed a semicircle around Kirke, who had let her short tunic fall to the floor. She looked stunningly good, like 22. Slim and slender, with womanly hips and large breasts. Her breasts were large, full and firm, successfully resisting gravity. Her nipples were large and pointed and she let the little ones suck and lick them. On the first day of her development as a magician, the Goddess had given her a colored tattoo, spread over her entire back. It was a friendly‐looking, horny sea monster, whose octopus arms caressed her shoulders, her breasts and her inner thighs from behind. His large, human‐shaped giant cock fucked her from behind, horny and greedy and very realistically portrayed. The children walking behind her screamed with delight, as the laughing monster fucked Kirke with every step, smiling.

She leaned back on the windowsill and stuck her ass out towards the crowd of children. Two girls spread her ass cheeks so that her pussyhole was clearly visible. Little Demetrios stood on his toes and penetrated her hole, it was his first time. Of course he knew what he had to do, because he had watched Kirke every day when she was fucked by the boys. He was finished pretty quickly and squirted inside. Now Kirke clapped her hands and said, "There are grapes and chilled lemonade, my children, then go outside and play!"

The children had gone, Kirke had washed herself in the sea and was lying under the three palm trees that provided shade to dry off. The children were playing on the sandy beach, gleefully, the older boys dragged their giggling girls to Kirke in the shade and started fucking them. She admired these children, they were in their sexual prime. Kirke didn't count, of course, as some of the boys fucked four or five girls in a row. Kirke smiled good‐naturedly, because she loved watching the childish fucking. She would laugh out loud when a young boy made a mistake while playing musical chairs and fucked her, the dear fellow! Kirke was sometimes sad that later generations accused her of turning her lovers into pigs! What a shameful nonsense!!! She would never do something so evil! She was loved and sexually desired by all children! In her long life she had let all boys fuck her as soon as they could stand on their tiptoes and their little cocks reached her pleasure hole. She had fucked thousands of boys, even many girls, although that was not her primary thing. All children loved her and desired to fuck her. She had also fucked thousands of men, kings and peasants, merchants and water carriers. Even Gods lay down with her, her lovemaking was legendary.

One boy only came in the morning, and he always came alone. He was a loner and a single, this Homeros. His parents, who had drowned between the Greek islands, had called him 'Man of Love'. Kirke liked the boy, he was still a child, but already wise as a man. He had a very conspicuous cock, Kirke called it 'Heracles' club'. It had a thin base and the cock got thicker towards the tip, the tip was thick and round, the giant glans well covered by the foreskin. That was Hercules' Club. The lustful wives in the village, who sometimes secretly let a boy fuck them, saw his monster and chased him away. The uneducated women thought he had a sick, infected cock.

Kirke was educated and knew that it was just a harmless freak of nature, or perhaps a joke from a God, who could tell the difference? She let Homer fuck her as often as he wanted in the morning until noon. He wanted to fuck often. She grinned when he crept up from behind and lifted her tunic. She immediately loosened her buttocks so that he could penetrate more easily. He was the only boy who lay his upper body on her back and grabbed her breasts. He seemed to know how delicate it was to stimulate the nipples. He fucked long and hard, he ejaculated long and hard. "That's well all right!" said Kirke approvingly.

Homer was worried about his health, wasn't it bad for him to fuck every hour? Kirke laughed out loud. "Don't talk such nonsense, my dear friend! It doesn't matter whether you fuck five times in an hour or once in five hours! The only important thing is that you don't hurt, scratch or rub your cock until it bleeds." Homer lay down in front of Kirke and she had to examine his cock millimeter by millimeter. "Not a single scratch, not a single bruise, not a single bloody spot!" was her verdict. "Keep fucking, Homeros, as your instincts tell you!" She smiled. "You fuck me in the morning, when there aren't any annoying children making noise. But how do you do it in the afternoon?" Now Homer, the sly one, smiled. "On the edge of the village lives old Aurelia, who is blind and must be 100 years old. But she has lots of papyrus, ink and quills because she used to live as a poet on the island of Mitilini, where she lived as a total lesbian. But I can fuck her every hour, even though she apparently doesn't feel anything sexually. But she lets me fuck her as often as I want, because she likes me because I want to be a poet too. And in the evening I go to the beach to bathe, and there are always a few girls there who are happy to be fucked. So I'm well looked after from morning to evening, and at night I can fuck my Mom too, when my Dad is already asleep. She needs it at night just as badly as I do, it's a matter of heredity, she says, although she knows much less about heredity than about fucking."

Kirke was astonished that this young boy wanted to be a poet, like only old men or unattractive girls sadly in love. Homer promised to let her read something one day.

One morning, Mooai laid a drowned couple on the beach for her. Kirke undressed them; they were still children, not even 18 years old, and a beautiful couple. The boy had a nice, hard cock, as Kirke noted with satisfaction. The girl had a pussy that still seemed virginal; she had probably only recently started fucking. Kirke knew what Mooai and the Goddess expected of her. She exposed the girl's clit and fucked her with her own clit very hard. The girl woke up in orgasm and looked at her in confusion. "I went under in the big waves," she murmured, "and — did you just fuck me, beautiful woman?" Kirke confirmed it; it was a spell that she could use to do good. "Now I must fuck your lover and bring him back to life!" The girl whispered that he was her husband. Kirke fucked the young man and his cock grew considerably. He was confused, but he had to keep fucking, he moaned and his cock grew a bit more. Kirke fucked him again, but he was only exhausted after the fifth time. Now he opened his eyes and only now saw how beautiful Kirke was, with whom he had fucked so well. "Oh, revered Goddess, you have brought me back to life! How can I thank you, because my wife is also well and alive!" Kirke smiled. "You get another chance! Go up to the village, Alkemias the headman is already waiting for you and will assign you a little house. How can you thank me? Make lots of children, girls and boys, and when they are no longer hanging on your skirt strings, send them to me, with me they learn to fuck very early! And now go and be happy!"

Homer had watched everything from a distance. He squirted into the bushes as Kirke fucked the girl like a fury. He continued to squirt into the bushes as Kirke fucked the boy and let him fuck her again and again. When the two had left, he approached Kirke. "So far I've only been allowed to fuck you from behind, can I now fuck you from the front like the man just did?" Kirke nodded, somewhat surprised. "Yes, of course, I'll just wash my pussy quickly, out of habit."

While Kirke washed her pussy thoroughly, Homer asked a thousand questions. How could she bring the dead back to life? Was she a witch or a Goddess? Was he allowed to write about all of this? Kirke smiled kindly and caressed her clean clit very slowly. "Raising the dead is a divine gift, you have to know how to fuck a woman and how to fuck a man, because you must know that they are very different to fuck. Watch up in the village how two girls or women fuck each other with their clitorises! And am I a witch? No, I never do anything bad. And of course a poet can write anything, even if an insulted king has his head chopped off. That is sometimes the price, so think beforehand whether the thing is worth it! And now come on, fuck me!" Homer did not need a second invitation, now or never, as they said.

Homer read her a story, a second, a fifth. He fell silent when he saw Kirke's face. He waited, fidgeting, until she spoke. "First, you must captivate your listener. Simply reciting the facts is simply boring. As like a drama in the theater, it must be exciting, unexpected, full of twists and turns and evoke feelings in the spectators. Second, and this is difficult to explain, you must sing, not talk. Sing! If you read the famous poets, you will rarely find a work that only rhymes. It is not without reason that they are called 'The Canticles of Aphrilos' and 'The Canticles of Alcibiades'. You must write a song, not a poem. 'The Canticles of Homer', so they must one day report on it."

Homer nodded very thoughtfully. "I've been working on a draft for a while to write about the Trojan War. It only ended recently and I wanted to be one of the first to write about it, maybe get some beautiful women to fuck, fool me! But everything I've written is nonsense. You can sum it up in one sentence. 'They beat each other's heads to pieces and in the end there are only losers.' That's all there is to it. What do you think?"

Kirke had to think for a long time; the back and forth of the Trojan War was known to everyone. "War reporting is not an easy business if you don't want it to end up as wrapping paper on the fishmarket. Firstly, you have to report on the war itself in true details, your listeners will not be deceived.

Secondly, the gods have to have their say, their goodwill or their envy manipulates events, the heroes and guides their destinies cleverly or extremely stupidly, maybe the gods are even wrong or have a fight with each other?

Thirdly, where are the women? Men wage war, but there are women too. Sex, loyalty and infidelity, cuckolded husbands and poisonings. 'Who is the prettier, her or me?', you can destroy kingdoms with that sentence. Jealousy, envy, intrigues — you can cause unrest and kill with that.

And fourthly, in war, there is fucking, an incredible amount of fucking. With prisoners, queens, warriors, citizens' wives, maids and slaves; in short, with everyone. But you, capable poet and singer, must not use the word 'fuck' even once, if your work is to stand up to the eyes of the strict councilmen. So 'he spent the night with her' or 'she gave herself up voluntarily' or 'he brutally robbed her of her honour', things like that can get around the issue itself."

Kirke had given a long lecture, Homer lay with his upper body on her back and stimulated her breasts and especially her sensitive nipples, which made Kirke sigh tremblingly again and again. Our budding singer's strong club was in her pleasure hole the whole time, and whenever it was necessary, he grabbed her hips, fucked her wildly and squirted. Kirke could sing individual passages, adventures or fuck scenes, with a clear, beautiful melodic voice, and Homer listened in stunned awe. He understood more and more what she meant and he happily grabbed her hips and fucked her very quickly from behind, only to listen to her again after squirting.

Suddenly he realised how he had to proceed. The war events are only added at the end, because he did not need to invent the facts. He had to invent an onion, but from the inside out. A core with a basic outline. One shell picks up a part, the next shell starts at a different point. And when all the shells were woven, insert the war events between the shells as a filling, as a cream. It was already midday, he had to stop fucking Kirke, who was fucking him in a fantasy, and squirting into her. He straightened up and pulled out Heracles' club.

Kirke had more orgasms that morning than she had in a long time. She was immersed in her fantasies, Goddesses arguing about who was the most beautiful. A prince who had to fuck one of the Goddesses every night, in order to make his decision after 9 nights. A mishap, orchestrated by a fourth, jealous Goddess, so that the prize of victory rolled to the feet of the last one in line. The other two vowed to destroy the stupid prince.

The prince had only one weak point, fucking. He picked the wrong woman and fucked the wife of the fiercest king. Kidnapping, escape, the whole program. Troy, naive and presumptuous, offered asylum to the fugitives. So the war began. It ended with the city burning and the pyres on which the best of the Greeks burned. That had to be the end, all the noble Greeks were gone, a boat rower became king of Mykonos and fucked the most beautiful daughter of the fierce king, who was murdered by his unfaithful queen. Under the rule of rowers, shining Greece sank into darkness. Kirke had sung that, carried by the fucking of her poet and her orgasms. Homer ran off to Aurelia, the blind woman, to write and fuck without interruption. He only found peace when he fucked girls on the beach in the evening and lay down with his mother at night.

Kirke couldn't sleep either, the story rattled around in her mind. Unusually for her, because she normally only let herself be fucked by little boys, she summoned two young girls to her. She fucked the frightened, shy children one after the other until dawn. She pressed her clit onto the girl's clit like a pointed battle spur and fucked her aggressively until she had an orgasm and continued until the poor girl passed out. She continued to develop the story. The grim king had set sail, trembling with anger, so hastily that he did not offer the God of the winds, Aeolus. The God was insulted and let the winds rest. He demanded that the grim king let his 12‐year‐old granddaughter be fucked on the sacrificial altar by the strongest men in his army for 40 days, then he promised favorable winds. The king gritted his teeth and had Iphigenia fucked like mad for 40 days. On the fortieth day, a good wind came up, the wind God kidnapped the violated child and took her as his concubine. He also kidnapped her twin brother, because only then could he take on his human form and fuck Iphigenia. In 40 days, the little girl had learned to fuck as well as the most expensive port whore on Mykonos. Iphigenia had fucked her twin brother Orestes from early childhood, they had learned it from the adults and fucked day after day in their youth. Now she fucked her brother and the wind god at the same time and passed away in Orestes' arms in a powerful orgasm, she had learned to fuck so well in those 40 days. Kirke gave the girls lots of sweets and sent them home at dawn.

Homer arrived early enough to watch Kirke brutally fuck the poor girls for a few more rounds. He didn't miss the opportunity to fuck the other girl in the meantime. When they had gone, he lay upon Kirke's back, who was dozing a little and only woke up when the singer reared up and squirted into her. She listened to his sketch and sang him the story of Iphigenia and Orestes. He was very enthusiastic, her part went well with his. It wasn't until midday that he went to old Aurelia, who patiently like an ox let herself be fucked. She was ancient and her pussy was dry and wrinkled, but Homer fucked her hour after hour anyway. Neither her wrinkles nor her withered body bothered him, he was only interested in having a pussy in which he could fuck and squirt. Aurelia was happy, though, because she could remember the earlier, long‐past orgasms in the arms of her favorite maid or the men who made pilgrimages to the sanctuary and had fucked her for a silver coin.

Homer's mother was amazed at how excited and energetic Homer fucked her at night, so hefty that even his father woke up. He watched for a while and pulled the foreskin back and forth on his cock, but he quickly fell asleep again. What his wife did with her son was dirty, perverted women's stuff and was none of his business. None.

Kirke and Homer each worked on two ends of the story. Kirke had centuries of sexual experience and described the fuck scenes to him so clearly and precisely that he couldn't stop fucking and squirting. He sang the half‐finished parts to her; to Aurelia's amazement, he had been singing and writing and fucking all afternoon. She didn't yet know the whole picture, but when he sang and wrote down Kirke's fucking scenes, she smiled blissfully, because she too had once written and sung love songs.

Mooai had come on that full moon night, and like every year he fucked Kirke three times on the light‐flooded sandy beach and listened to her wishes. As always, she wished for beautiful, clever and pleasant things. Her wish for intellectual fertilization while writing poetry only sounded unusual at first, but when she told him about writing poetry together with a boy, he immediately understood and granted it. He fucked her for the third time at dawn and continued to fuck her after her orgasm until she passed out. Kirke loved that very much, that made fucking with Mooai so special. When she came to her senses, he had long since disappeared into the waves. He was the only one who fucked her in such an intense way.

Kirke knew that Homer lay with Klymene, his mother, at night. She was still a young, naive thing, had given birth to Homer at the age of 13 and loved him not only madly, but above all sexually. His father was now an old man, to whom Klymene occasionally gave a blowjob. He watched his wife's sexual activities with Homer indifferently, only rarely did he get an erection. He was a completely fair man, his wife was the same age as his granddaughters, she had fucked him devotedly for years until he could no longer fuck. It was only fair that she needed someone to fuck. Homer was a good son, he gave Klymene so many orgasms every night that she was totally satisfied sexually, it was never necessary for Klymene to have to fuck another man, although she fucked many lovers too. It was not at all unusual for her to let her son fuck her until he was exhausted. In ancient Greece, most mothers taught their sons to fuck from the age of 12 before they sent them out into the world. Clymene was perhaps a little too much in love with Homer, but that would probably pass. His father was wrong in this, and he would soon die. Homer stayed in Clymene's bed, who would die 15 years later.

Kirke also knew, of course, that Homer would go blind after Klymene's death. But he knew the songs and hymns to the gods that he had composed alone by heart and went from court to court singing them in an inimitably moving way. Homer lived to a ripe old age and Kirke was unrecognized among the many girls who mourned at the funeral of the old singer and lover of hundreds of virgins. Kirke's magic kept his loins youthfully powerful until the end, so that despite his blindness he was able to fuck many virgins and young girls. The blind old man felt the breasts of the young girls and chose the youngest to lead him. The young girl, usually still a child, led the blind man and lie down with him at night and willingly let the old singer fuck her. It was also Kirke who paid dozens of scribes to copy the Iliad and the Odyssey on papyrus.

Mooai woke Kirke long before sunrise. She ran to the sandy beach where Mooai had laid 22 drowned warriors. She immediately recognized who the leader was and had to fuck him very long and intensely until he came back to life. Kirke fucked all of them until late afternoon, until all 22 woke up dazed. Kirke, totally exhausted from hours of fucking, told the warriors "that they were welcome in the village up above, but they had to be peaceful and friendly, the island was a place of love. The girls and women will happily give themselves to you, they are already waiting longingly for new, strong men's thighs."

She took the leader by the hand and led him to her bedchamber. She let the sexually starved hero fuck until he had had enough. "You are on Kirke's island, great hero Odysseus," she said, for she had immediately recognized the mighty warrior. He had never heard of the island and Kirke smiled, "no ordinary mortal has ever seen it, that's how it is." Odysseus was confused, for he was on his way home to his beloved wife and queen Penelope when Poseidon's wrath overturned his ship and they all drowned. "The Goddess must love you very much that she brought you here so that I could give you a second life." Odysseus bowed gratefully. "You are a great magician, Kirke! And thank you for the second life!"

He asked Kirke if she had any news of Penelope. She nodded, "I actually have two of them, but only one could be true. The first was that Penelope had been getting fucked by one of the 60 brideseekers every night since he left for Troy because she couldn't decide to chose one of them. The other was that his son Telemachus had been lying with Penelope since his father's departure and defended her honor with a sword in his hand. Penelope's cries of pleasure echoed through the palace at night, for Telemachus was as strong in the loins as his father. Odysseus wept heartbreakingly. "And which one is true, oh Kirke?" he moaned. "Both, I fear," Kirke replied, "I know people and the fiery pussies of women, and Penelope was known to be blessed with an insatiable sexual urge. But I have known Penelope since she was a child and I know how loyally her heart loves you despite everything!" Odysseus could not remember ever having seen Kirke with Penelope, but all the things Kirke knew about Penelope's secret masturbation were true. Odysseus cried a lot, but Kirke asked him if he hadn't any affairs other than Penelope and if he had the right to judge Penelope!?

Odysseus was not only a good fucker, he was also a real gossip. Kirke and Homer hung on his every word when he told of the 10 years of fucking in the Trojan War. Troy's girls and women streamed out of the city at sunset to fuck the Greek warriors. Odysseus sang of Penthesileia, the Amazon queen and her 40 female warriors who pounced on the Greek warriors in the evenings and fucked them to exhaustion. He himself had often shared Penthesileia with the fierce Achilles; the queen was insatiable and greedy, so the two heroes ran out of steam. Even the invincible Achilles, the Greek demigod, who had the biggest and strongest cock of all the warriors! Queen Penthesileia fucked man after man, one after the other, for half the night, and when she climaxed she roared like a wild bull, so that it echoed throughout the camp and the other women tried very hard to have such orgasms too.

There were also unpleasant things, such as Achilles, who deflowered King Priam's 11‐year‐old virgin granddaughter Briseis on the altar of Athena and abducted her to his tent, fucking the frightened girl a dozen times a night. Or Prince Paris, who not only caused the war when he fucked and abducted Menelaus' wife Helena. No, the sex offender Paris also assaulted his brother Hector's wife, he raped the chaste and shy young woman for weeks and made her a child, whereupon Hector lost his mind and sought death in battle. Or Ajax, who raped the holy virgin Cassandra in the temple of her Goddess Athena and then raped her every night like a whore.

Kirke and Homer hung on Odysseus' every word, his stories flowed into the story, which had now grown enormously. Kirke demanded that Homer write two versions, a shorter one that was cleaned of all sexual details and a longer one that still contained all the affairs, fucking and rapes that Odysseus had narrated. Odysseus fucked Kirke while he listened to Homer's songs. Then Homer lay with his upper body on Kirke's back and Heracles' club was stuck in Kirke's pleasure hole for hours, where he fucked her again and again and squirted powerfully into her. Kirke was fucked by both of them in turn and had orgasms like she hadn't had in a long time.

Odysseus' men had built a new ship and were urging him to leave. Kirke said to Odysseus, "Later generations will say that I put a spell on you and didn't let you go, but those were the lies you told everyone, treacherous one! You can leave at any time, devious king, for it is only your lustful loins that cannot separate from my body! Go!"

One day many months later Odysseus set sail, he could no longer stop his men, although he would have loved to fuck the ever‐horny Kirke until the end of time. But his men wanted to see the kingdom of Ithaca again and reminded Odysseus that Penelope was waiting for him longingly. He set sail for Ithaca and when he looked back, the island had disappeared. He sailed on determinedly, but Poseidon stopped him again and again, as we know.

Hercules' club was now stuck in Kirke's pleasure hole for the whole morning, he fucked her quite naturally and squirted in without pulling his cock out afterwards. She looked out to sea with a smile and they took turns singing the songs. The work gradually took shape, both versions. But Kirke did not neglect the children in the afternoon, she let the little girls masturbate the cocks to squirt, then the children surrounded her while she stuck her ass out to the boys and laughed as they fucked her.

Homer had fucked Klymene night after night for over 20 years, she only had affairs during the day and had already fucked all the men on the island. She remained naive and simple‐minded all her life, she got involved with any man who wanted her. She had a beautiful funeral and Homer lured every evening a young girl to his bed, there were so many! Aurelia had long since disappeared, Homer reached into the pool of young girls with both hands when Kirke was letting the little boys fuck her in the afternoon. He was not interested in that at all, boys were not his thing. The works had long been finished, he sang the two versions of the Iliad in front of the villagers. This is how he perfected his performance.

Kirke let him go with a heavy heart, gifted him at goodbye the love of virgins and young girls forever. He went from court to court, the audience preferred to hear the longer version because they loved the filthy songs. He gradually lost his sight, he took a young girl into his bed every night. It was something special to have a shy virgin in bed and to deflower her, that was when he blossomed. But the girls loved him very much and fought for a place in his bed. When Odysseus returned home and was once again abducted by the goddess into the mythical mists, Homer wrote the Odyssey. When he could no longer write himself, he dictated his hymns to the Gods to the scribes. He was lying in the arms of a deflowered virgin when he closed his eyes. Homer had a happy life.

Kirke missed Homer's hard‐working Hercules bludgeon very much. She sat sadly on the sandy beach in the evenings and complained to Mooai about her suffering. One morning she found a drowned man on the beach. It was Yannis, a simple, kind‐hearted farm boy who had jumped after a lamb that was about to drown in the maelstrom. Kirke was horrified at first; in all her 480 years she had never fucked such a huge, powerful cock as an elephant's trunk. She struggled so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks, but she fucked Yannis for over an hour until he opened his eyes in amazement. The 20 years old immediately fell in love with the Goddess who had brought him back to life and followed her everywhere. When at rest, his cock hung down halfway down his thigh, and when erect, down to his knees.

Kirke smiled gratefully because Mooai had given her a young man with such a big cock. Despite his youth, he was a great fucker; he had fucked his mother and big sister since he was 12, because they both liked to be fucked by his big cock. The two never argued about who he could fuck today, because he held out and fucked both of them. He laughed and was happy about their good sexual feelings, because he was the only man in the house. His cock didn't even go halfway in either of them, so the other could masturbate the other half with her fist. At the end she held his cock tightly to feel the semen shoot through. Mother and sister were both heavily pregnant when he jumped into the maelstrom.

Kirke always let Yannis fuck her when she felt like it. Yannis soon learned to fuck like Homer. She leaned on the window sill and looked out to sea, he leaned his upper body on her back and pushed his cock in from behind. His cock went well at full lenght into her cunthole, after some training. He fucked her as often as his cock got hard and squirted huge amounts into her pleasure hole.

In the afternoons he rested and lazily watched the little boys fucking his Goddess from behind. The young girls played enthusiastically with his elephant trunk and the older girls sometimes dared to put the elephant trunk in their little holes, but it only went in a quarter of the lenght and then he pushed the end. He smiled good‐naturedly when one of the girls rode his elephant cock in horniness and let him squirt inside. The girls were very proud of that.

Kirke's island gradually disappeared forever.

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