Cupid's Performance Review

What compelled Cupid most, however, was what he knew of her mind and soul. "If only I could see these...other desires...as you do," he said.

"You need not champion them. You need not witness them. But perhaps you could accept them."

"Perhaps," he said quietly. He then said, "I will attempt to ponder this."

Of a sudden, her look brightened. "It would be better," she said, rising from her seat, "if you could muster some enthusiasm." She held out her hand to him.

His mood also lifted, as she led him towards her temple, but his troubles were not banished from his mind.

He was, however, distracted by the entity who arrived there as they did.

"Greetings, Cupid," said Terpsichore.

"Ahh, umm, welcome, Noble Muse." He was stirred by the agile beauty with legs that seemed to extend beyond Olympus, mighty yet shapely.

"Terpsichore has asked to teach us a new dance," said Psyche. "It is for three participants."

As it had done so many times before, Cupid's jerkin flapped up to his navel.

Each with a deft movement of one hand, Psyche and Terpsichore seized and tossed away Cupid's garment, passing it easily beyond his wings. Then they had him twirl with them into a dizzying pattern of rapid steps and flailing limbs. The exertion and touches quickly had his heart throbbing.

Then, abruptly, all three were stilled. "Your move," said Terpsichore to Cupid. "If you have desire, express it!"

The sleek, dusky muse, with her smoldering look, drove Cupid to ardor he had long suppressed.

"Forgive me, Psyche, my love!" wailed Cupid, his arm reaching out to Terpsichore.

"Love me and our guest together," said Psyche, "and you will be forgiven!"

What she said brought him a different focus. Cupid executed a move of his own, mirroring theirs from before. He got a hand on each woman's garment, and, by flying, freed their bodies from them. The sight of their naked forms spurred him to what he had long imagined, while intruding upon them with his eyes.

He swooped, and with the strength of his archer's arms, lifted the women. He clamped his face on Psyche's loins, guiding her with his left hand. He thrust his spire between Terpsichore's welcoming, widespread legs, securing her with his right hand. His wings swept the air, making him a floating horizontal platform, so that the triad hovered. What madness is this? he thought in panic. Can I not even follow my own rules?

The women leaned so that they could embrace and kiss. Cupid feasted on Psyche's nectar, and savored the blaze within Terpsichore's fleshy altar.

At the end of one kiss, Terpsichore smiled and said, "It's so much better when he's not hiding."

Cupid's head jolted back. "You knew?"

"Yes, My Darling," said Psyche, with the amused tone he knew well. "Just as you surely knew of my consorting with the muses, before I met you. My passion with Chorie is a pre-existing condition.

"And I know," she added, "That the desire to watch women disporting is lodged in the minds of many men. I can brief you on several secret desires, never requited by your arrows, before tomorrow. But now, can you switch us?"

"Not yet!" moaned Terpsichore. "I have long sought your lover's arrow! Let it lodge many times more in my target!"

"Yes!" said Psyche brightly. "Enjoy him!"

The trappings of youth had abandoned Cupid, but the fire of passion remained. He thrust mightily, yet deftly, in the muse's deep womanhood. Her ecstasy was expressed by the sinuous motion of her legs and trunk, a dance of fulfilled desire. The blast of his seed staggered him from pubis to buttocks. Despite his thick insertion, she nectared his belly, and howled raucously.

"A pleasant voice," murmured Terpsichore a moment later, "is not in my portfolio."

They all laughed. Accepting the value of this entanglement, Cupid lifted the still-embracing women, and applied a flick of rotation, settling them with Psyche on his sloppy rod and the dance muse's cleft on his ardent lips.

"Welcome home from your glorious journey, O my favorite plaything!" Psyche declared, swiveling on the oozing phallus, grinding on the base of Cupid's paunch. "My Dearest, I feared this as you did! I could be capable of jealousy. Yet I know you, and what I thought of you is true. Your love is strong, and see how it can be shared! Yeeeaaagghhh!"

Cupid felt her mighty flexures on his stele, milking his essence. His wordless oration was muffled as he kissed and licked his other lover.

"And to increase our delight further," croaked Psyche, "here is a different entertainment!"

A cloud formed to one side, where all three could see it. The center cleared to show a wrestling match. Two nude mortal men, muscles gleaming with oil, grappled vigorously. They were cheered by a huge crowd, mostly men but also some women. Many were nude.

"See them, My Love," said Psyche, voice slurring as pleasure consumed her. "Not their bodies, if that disturbs you. Their faces."

Terpsichore, seemingly able to move her legs anywhere, stretched one up and to the side, so Cupid could look while still servicing the muse. It is true, he thought as he looked at the conjoined men, they gaze upon each other with passion and pleasure, as well as defiance and competition.

"Perhaps I could tell Zeus," Cupid said among rapid breaths, "that these men could also propagate, if given leave from that task at times, to requite this desire."

"That may be wise," gasped Terpsichore, "but may I again know the wisdom of your mouth upon my vulva?"

Knowing what was best for him, Cupid returned to his tasks. With a whimper, Psyche waved away the cloud. "We don't care who wins the match, correct?"

"They all win," said Terpsichore, "As do we!" The women's ferocious kiss resumed.

The women's embrace, and their exchange of gazes, were far more compelling to Cupid now, than they were when he peeked past the tapestry. Not only because he was closer, and thrilled by the sight of their hard, swollen nipples. It was that, by being so close (and moving his head briefly from the muse's crotch), he could see the love they had for each other, as with the wrestling men. And this love, he thought, seems not to diminish Psyche's love for me.

Cupid was convinced long before the dance ended. Yet he saw no reason to interrupt his partners' continued campaigning. Nor did they.

At last, Cupid's wings were exhausted, and lay still on the floor beneath his back. Also near its limit was his arrow, and the endurance of the women. Yet Psyche and Terpsichore concluded by kneeling on either side of his trunk and converging four modest, but soft and warm, breasts on his withered wick. This quickly summoned greater and firmer substance as they pumped. When his tube rose beyond their nates, the women licked it lavishly.

Cupid used what little strength he still had, to get his hands to the women's flanks, and his fingers into four declivities.

He gushed well past their converged lips, smearing faces, pelting hair, cascading down spines. Nectar dribbled past his hands, wetting the stone beneath his buttocks.

When they all finally succumbed to inertia, the temple was the messiest that it had ever been.

"Terpsichore," mumbled Cupid, "You are welcome here at any time. Even if I am not present. Psyche, my most cherished, I bless your happiness, with whomever you find it." Then, with a tremble, "Even men."

"My happiness will always be greatest with you, My Beloved," said Psyche, her head lolling towards him. "And I am so happy now, I can do this."

She lifted an arm and waved it. A pillar nearby popped open. From out of its interior, there tumbled a great cascade of arrows, and what Cupid recognized, with shock, as his favorite bow.

"Now," said Psyche with a blissful smile, "I won't need to find a different archer."

***

"And so, Your Most Eminent Highness," said Cupid briskly, "The Cupid-Psyche Project is ready to expand in the ways that I have outlined, to provide new avenues for the betterment and happiness of your mortal worshippers. It is my privilege to brighten the future of Olympus. Glory to you, Great Zeus!"

"This seems very well thought out," said Zeus, still looking closely at a scroll that Cupid knew would not be returned. Its imagery was indeed compelling. "It pleases me that your vision on this subject is evolving." Zeus peeked around the scroll with a smile that could only be described as nasty, which is why Cupid would never describe it. "It pleases me also that Psyche still has your ear. Among other things."

"Indeed, we remain partners, in every sense." Cupid gathered the remaining scrolls to where he was prostrated. "Is the review now complete, Great Zeus?"

"Yes yes," said Zeus dismissively, gazing again at the scroll. With his free hand he wax-sealed the review without looking at it, and flicked it away from the throne. "You may go. I have much to consider now."

At last drawing relieved breath, Cupid backed away with the proper obeisance.

He had turned, and was walking, and almost at the exit of the throne room, when Cupid heard Zeus say:

"Next year, maybe you can work in some centaurs."