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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Brett's Hercules - 8. Heaven?
One evening, as they lay in bed, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, a playful mood took hold. Hercules, his strength fully restored, reached out with his powerful arms, lifting Brett up and settling him on his chest. Brett, giggling at the playful gesture, nestled against Hercules's broad shoulders, feeling safe and loved.
"My love," Hercules whispered, his voice husky with desire, "it's time you share some of your essence with me."
He looked at Brett, his eyes filled with a longing that mirrored the emotions swirling within Brett's own heart. Brett, his breath catching in his throat, felt a surge of excitement, a thrilling anticipation. He had never felt so alive, so connected, so deeply loved. Hercules, his lips curving into a knowing smile, leaned down, his gaze fixed on Brett's manhood. He gently took Brett's hand, guiding it to his own chest, feeling the powerful rhythm of his heart beating beneath his skin. Then, with a tenderness that belied his strength, he drew Brett closer, and engulfed Brett's manhood in a kiss that sent shivers of ecstasy down Brett's spine.
The feeling was like nothing Brett had ever experienced. It was a surge of power, a wave of pleasure, a rush of pure, unadulterated bliss. He felt himself soaring, his senses heightened, his body tingling with a delicious sensation. He was lost in the moment, lost in the feeling, lost in the love that bound him to Hercules. He felt himself reaching for Hercules, his fingers tracing his strong muscles. He felt Hercules's tongue moving against him, his breath hot against his skin, his love pouring into him, filling him, consuming him. He was lost in a world of pure sensation, a world of love and desire, a world where nothing else mattered.
He was in heaven…..
Brett blinked, his eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He stretched, feeling the familiar ache in his muscles, the remnants of a dream that lingered in his mind. He looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings of his bedroom. The sleek, modern furniture, the high-tech gadgets, the comforting scent of lavender candles, all spoke of his life in the 21st century.
He sat up, the weight of the dream settling upon him like a heavy cloak. He remembered the sun-drenched fields, the monstrous Lycaon, the journey to Delphi, the perilous descent into the Shadowlands, the Guardian, the sacrifice, the potion, the love, the ecstasy. He remembered Hercules, his strength, his kindness, his love.
He looked at the television, its screen flickering with the familiar image of a muscular, half-naked man. It was a scene from one of his favorite Reg Park Hercules movies, a scene that had sparked the dream, a scene that had transported him to a world of myth and legend, a world of gods and monsters, a world of love and adventure.
He felt a deep sense of emptiness, a void that echoed the absence of Hercules, the absence of the love they had shared, the absence of the world they had created together. He knew it had been a dream, a beautiful, powerful dream, but a dream nonetheless. He was back in his own world, a world of technology and routine, a world that felt strangely empty, strangely hollow. He reached for the remote, turning off the television, the image of Hercules fading into the darkness. He felt a pang of sadness, a longing for something he knew he could never have. He felt the weight of reality pressing down on him, the weight of his own life, his own world, his own loneliness.
He sighed, a deep, heavy sigh that carried the weight of his dream, the weight of his love, the weight of his loss. He lay back down, his mind filled with the echoes of his dream, his heart filled with a longing for something he knew he could never have. He closed his eyes, hoping for another dream, hoping for another glimpse of the world he had lost, hoping for another taste of the love that had filled his heart.
The rhythmic thud of weights, the clang of metal, the smell of sweat and exertion – Brett immersed himself in the familiar routine of his gym, seeking solace in the physicality of his work. He pushed himself harder, lifting heavier, striving for perfection, trying to drown out the echoes of his dream, the lingering warmth of Hercules's love. He was determined to forget, to move on, to return to the normalcy of his life.
Days blurred into weeks, the sharp edges of the dream fading into a distant memory. He found himself back in his routine, his life regaining its familiar rhythm. He was a successful trainer, his clients happy, his business thriving. He was busy preparing for the next bodybuilding contest. He was content, he was fulfilled, he was…empty.
Today, a new client was scheduled to arrive. Brett stood by the entrance, waiting, his gaze scanning the faces entering the gym. He saw a familiar figure, a towering man with a thick beard and a powerful frame. He was not chiseled and defined like Brett, but there was a raw strength in his build, a hint of something primal and powerful. As the man approached, Brett felt a jolt of recognition, a sense of déjà vu. The man’s face, his eyes, his smile, they all seemed eerily familiar. He shook the man’s hand, the grip strong and firm, the touch sending a shiver down Brett’s spine.
"Brett, right?" the man boomed, his voice deep and resonant. "I'm Jason. Nice to meet you."
Brett, his mind racing, his heart pounding, could only manage a weak, "Nice to meet you too, Jason."
As their hands lingered in a handshake that seemed to stretch on forever, Brett noticed a flicker in Jason's eyes, a spark of recognition, a hint of something…more. It was a look that sent a jolt of electricity through Brett, a look that awakened a dormant feeling, a feeling that he had thought was lost forever.
He looked at Jason, his gaze lingering on the man's face, his eyes, his smile. He saw Hercules, his Hercules, his dream came to life. He felt a surge of hope, a flicker of excitement, a whisper of possibility. Perhaps fate was being kind to him after all. Perhaps this was not just a coincidence, perhaps this was a sign, perhaps this was a second chance.
He couldn't help but smile, a smile that held a hint of wonder, a hint of hope, a hint of a dream coming true. He was ready to find out.
*** The End ***
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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