Tryst at Troy

It was the ninth year of the Trojan War. The besieging Greeks were at an impasse against the Trojans and had withdrawn to the relative safety of their ships moored offshore in the Aegean Sea to determine their next course of action. It was a moonless night, so the only light illuminating the plains of Ilium came from the flickering watch-fires placed at intervals along the shore, as well as such light as the twinkling stars could provide. Even the city of Troy was plunged in darkness.

Only one Greek warrior remained encamped on the plain. Achilles had refused to retreat to the ships and had resolutely stayed behind in his tent, deaf to the entreaties of Agamemnon and Menelaus to join the others. He had lit a small candle, and by its feeble light he read and reread the message that had been mysteriously delivered to him that afternoon while the Greek were breaking camp. It read:

Mighty Myrmidon hero, greetings from the firstborn of Priam, king of the Trojans.

If you would discuss how best to end the conflict between our two nations, please come alone and unarmed to the foot of Mount Ida, where the ascending trail begins. I swear by my father and by all the gods in the heavens that no harm will come to you. It will be only you and I, both of us working toward a common goal.

Your adversary, Hector, Prince of Troy

Of course, it was a trap, wasn’t it? Hector planned to capture him and hold him for ransom at the very least. But what if Hector was sincere? Could he pass up a chance to end this accursed war, which had consumed all of his adult life? And even if Hector tried something, the prince of Troy was a mere man, while Achilles himself was partly divine, having a nymph for a mother. Surely, he was strong enough to escape from any trap that Hector might try.

For a long time, he weighed the pros and cons of Hector’s invitation. Finally, he roused himself and stretched, determined to find out what the Trojan had in mind. As a proof of his good faith, he removed all his armor and his tunic, so that Hector would be able to see that he was unarmed. He extinguished the candle and silently slipped out of his tent wearing only a loincloth and sandals.

His partial divinity as the son of Thetis gave him unusually keen vision, so he was able to find his way in the darkness to the base of Mount Ida with no difficulty. As he approached the designated meeting place, he could see that Hector had already arrived. Like Achilles, the Trojan prince was naked but for a simple cloth slung around his hips, so it was easy to tell that he was carrying no weapons.

Hector rose from the rock on which he had been sitting, awaiting the arrival of the Greek hero. In deference to the high esteem in which Achilles was held by both sides, he genuflected briefly before the newcomer. Then he stood and extended his right hand in greeting.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, king of the Myrmidons,” he said softly. “I am extremely pleased that you decided to come.”

“You have piqued my curiosity, Trojan prince,” Achilles responded quietly, grasping Hector’s proffered hand and shaking it firmly. He was quite pleased by the Trojan’s sign of respect. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say.”

“Come, follow me,” Hector instructed. Grabbing Achilles’ hand, he led him along a little-used trail that ran along the base of Mount Ida, ending at the mouth of a cave on the far side, facing away from the plains of Ilium. A fire burning merrily inside the cave illuminated the two men, so that they finally were able to see each other properly. The Trojan gestured to a stone bench near the blaze, and the two men sat down, side by side, and stared silently into the fire.

“Almost nine years,” Hector sighed eventually.

“What?” Achilles asked, startled from his own thoughts.

“It has been almost nine years since your ships appeared on our shores to retrieve the fair Helen. I was barely twenty years old at the time.”

“I was only eighteen.”

“And what does either of us have to show for the past nine years? Not much. Living in a perpetual state of war seems such an empty existence.”

“I know what you mean,” Achilles agreed bitterly. “I’ve spent a full third of my life here, when I should have been at home with my people, siring fine strong sons to carry on my name after I pass on. Instead …” He shrugged his shoulders, leaving the thought unfinished.

“I recall the first day I saw you from the battlements,” Hector reminisced. “With your muscular, toned body, and your hair - the color of the sun - blowing in the breeze, you looked like a youthful Apollo. You jumped off your ship with all the impetuousness of youth and ran ashore, brandishing a spear. I remember hearing you yell what sounded like a challenge, but I couldn’t make out what you said. It seemed to me that you looked directly at me as you spoke.”

A smile creased Achilles’ face. “I remember that day as well, prince. It seems like ages ago. You’re right, I was staring at you. Standing on the battlements, tall and proud, with your armor gleaming in the sun, you were the epitome of Ares himself.”

“Time has not been kind to me, Achilles. Look at me. I’m close to thirty. My face is weathered and lined, and my body is scarred. My hair is showing flecks of white. It gets more and more difficult to stay in shape. Even increasing my exercise regimen, my muscular definition isn’t what it used to be.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Hector,” Achilles said. “You’re still a fine figure of a man. Most men would be thrilled to be in as good physical shape as you are.” Admiringly he ran one hand over the Trojan’s bare upper body, squeezing the broad plates of pectoral muscle and feeling the firm, thick belly, with a fine dusting of dark hair over the entire torso. As his palm slid over Hector’s nipples, the Trojan prince moaned almost imperceptibly.

“Yes, but you’ve improved over the past nine years, Achilles,” Hector observed. “Your youthful beauty has matured into a rugged handsomeness that most men would envy. And that magnificent body of yours has reached a level of muscular development that even Heracles might envy.” He reciprocated the Greek hero’s touch, enjoying the feel of Achilles’ broad shoulders, beefy pecs, and muscle-laddered abdomen under his fingers. He chafed Achilles’ hard nipples lightly and heard the Greek gasp. Hector grinned.

Abruptly Achilles jumped up, startling the Trojan prince. “Okay, back to the subject at hand. What is your idea for ending the conflict between our two peoples?” he asked.

Hector shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from his mind. “Simply this: a wrestling match.”

“A what?”

“A wrestling match - between the Greeks’ best warrior and the Trojans’ best warrior. If the Greek wins, we turn over Helen to her husband, whether she likes it or not, and you all sail away and leave us alone.”

“And if the Trojan wins?”

“Helen may choose to stay with us or go back to her husband, and you all still sail back to your country and leave us alone. Either way, you sail away and don’t return.”

“It’s a good plan, Hector, but I’m not sure that I can sell Agamemnon and Menelaus on the idea. This war has gone on so long that at this point they’re set on Troy’s total destruction.”

“Can you at least try to persuade them?”

“Certainly, I’ll try. I love the idea. It’s great. But I just don’t hold out much hope of changing their minds.”

“If they agree, who will be the Greek champion, do you think?” Hector asked casually.

Achilles drew himself up to his full height. “Who else would they choose but me?” he blustered. “Not to sound vain, but everyone knows that I’m the best warrior the Greeks have. How about on the Trojan side?”

Hector got to his feet and puffed out his chest, striking a muscular pose. “Surely that would be me,” he shot back, “for the same reason.”

“And what, do you suppose, would be the outcome?”

“Good question. Shall we have a test match now – off the record, so to speak?” Hector suggested.

“That’s fine with me. Let us wrestle in the Greek way, with both of us naked.”

“Agreed,” Hector said. He reached down to his waist and ripped away the cloth that concealed his genitals. At the same time, Achilles kicked off the sandals he was wearing and pulled his loincloth down to drop at his feet. Both men were now completely nude. Hector went over to the fire, which was burning low, and piled some wood that was stacked against one wall of the cave on to it, so that there would be no danger of it dying out while they wrestled.

“The best two out of three pins?” Hector asked as he returned to stand facing the Myrmidon hero.

“Agreed. Assume the position.”

The two nude wrestlers leaned toward each other so that their foreheads touched and then placed their hands on one another’s broad shoulders.

“Begin!” Achilles barked.

For several minutes the two naked men grappled, testing each other’s strengths. Achilles was the more overtly muscular, with bulging pecs, wide lats and delts, grapefruit-sized biceps, and a muscle-laddered midriff. Hector, however, was no pushover. His burly body boasted broad slabs of thick muscle – a physique honed more from manual labor than from gym exercise. The heat of the blazing fire filled the cavern in which they wrestled, and soon both bodies were gleaming in the firelight, slippery with their sweat.

The first round was won by Achilles, who finally managed to hook one foot behind Hector’s knees and spill him onto his back, quickly falling on top of him to pin him. Hector grunted at the impact of the Greek hero landing on his chest and forcing the air from his lungs. The intimate body contact caused a stirring in his loins.

“The first fall to me, I believe,” Achilles grinned. He jumped up and extended his hand to help the Trojan prince get to his feet. Again, the two heroes locked bodies.

Hector won the second fall. He wrapped Achilles in a bear hug and squeezed hard, then lifted him up over his head and slammed him down on the hard-packed earth of the cave, knocking the wind out of him. Pressing his advantage, he dropped across Achilles’ heaving chest, pinning his shoulders to the ground.

“Okay,” Achilles groaned. “You take this round.”

Before letting Achilles get up, Hector lightly licked on one of his nipples and felt the Greek hero shudder and moan with pleasure. He quickly kissed the other one and then released it.

As Hector stood, he realized that he was sporting a full erection. His thick ten-inch cock jutted out, hard and throbbing, from his crotch. There was no way that Achilles could miss seeing it.

“You know my problem with wrestling?” the Trojan prince said, embarrassed by his plight. “It makes me horny. Perhaps we should rest a bit to let this boner of mine subside.”

“Oh, come now,” Achilles panted as he slowly rose to his knees. “I can think of much more enjoyable ways to make it go down.” He lunged forward and sucked Hector’s boner into his mouth.

“What the …?” Hector gasped with pleasurable surprise at the unexpected warmth enveloping his hard cock. He looked down to see the Greek hero’s face pressed against his sweaty crotch. “Achilles, don’t start something that you don’t intend to finish,” he warned.

Achilles backed off the throbbing pole and stood up. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Hector, our contest has me just as hard and horny as you are.” He grabbed Hector’s right hand and guided it to his own engorged penis. “And once I’m hard, I won’t go soft until I cum, so you’d better be ready to make me feel really good!”

Incredulously, Hector hefted the weighty pud in his palm. It was easily twelve inches long and almost seven inches around at the base. The cockhead was drooling pre-cum, lubricating Hector’s squeezing paw as he slid it along the length of the enormous shaft.

Achilles groaned with pleasure. “Ooh, that feels so damn good!” He writhed in ecstasy at the feelings of lust coursing through his body. “To be honest, I’ve always been attracted to older men, Hector. When I was a youth, I seduced my tutor and fucked him several times every day. Everyone thinks I’m such a ladies’ man, but really, I much prefer a grown male. The salt-and-pepper of your hair is such an incredible turn-on for me.” He dropped to his knees again and began to suck on Hector’s love pole vigorously.

“By the gods, Achilles, that feels so incredibly good. Damn! Even Aeneas doesn’t suck my cock as well as you do. Ooh, you’re going to make me cum if you don’t watch out.” Abruptly, Achilles pulled away and looked up at Hector, whose hairy chest was heaving with passion.

“Don’t cum yet, Hector,” Achilles admonished. “I want to take your load up my butt, not down my throat.”

“What? A stud like you wanting me to fuck your ass? I figured you as strictly a top man when it came to anal sex, my friend.”

“You’re right. Up to now I’ve always been the one doing the fucking. I’ve never let anyone get near my butt before. But you’re no ordinary man, Hector. You’re a prince – and an incredibly sexy man. It would be an honor and a pleasure to lose my anal virginity to a stud like you.” He added, suddenly doubtful, “Do you find me unattractive? Do you not want me?”

Hector shook his head vehemently. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I’m honored – and incredibly turned on - that you want me to be your first. I just never in my wildest dreams thought that you would ever consider … Well, enough talk. Let’s fuck!” He grabbed Achilles’ hand to help him get to his feet and then led him over to the stone bench near the fire.

“Now, Achilles, lie down on your back and lift your legs high and wide.” While Achilles complied with Hector’s instructions, the Trojan prince threw more wood on the fire. Turning back to see the Greek hero supine and with his legs spread, Hector felt waves of desire wash over him. He knelt at one end of the bench and gazed in awe at the vision of virility lying vulnerable before him.

Achilles lifted his head and winked at the hesitating Trojan. “Okay, stud. Have your way with me,” he urged.

“First I’ll have to loosen you up,” Hector said. He pushed the Greek hero’s legs further up and toward his face, and Achilles hooked his burly arms under his knees to keep them there. Then Hector leaned forward and buried his face between the Greek’s spread ass-cheeks, inhaling the heady aroma of sweat and butt. Licking along the crease toward Achilles’ tight rosebud, his tongue lapped at the clenched pucker.

“What are you …? Aww, that feels so damn good!” Achilles groaned, his head thrashing from side to side because of the intense pleasures he was experiencing. “I never knew … Aww, yeah! Eat my ass, Hector!”

Spurred on by Achilles’ obvious appreciation, Hector pushed his tongue through the Greek hero’s yielding sphincter and deep into his ass-chute. Achilles’ wails of ecstasy echoed through the cave, and his muscular body flailed in passion as Hector tongue-fucked him. His ass-ring began to undulate, repeatedly opening and closing under the Trojan’s lingual assault.

Hector quickly replaced his mouth and tongue with a finger, then two, then three, as he prodded and stretched the virgin hole. With his free hand, he stroked his own throbbing boner, making sure to coat the entire thick shaft with the slick pre-cum that flowed freely from his gaping piss-slit.

Once Achilles’ butt-hole was stretched sufficiently, Hector stood and bent his knees, aligning the tip of his bloated, drooling cockhead against the Greek’s pouting pucker. He pushed forward, astounded to feel the virgin chute open easily to him, drawing the entire length of his ten-inch boner deep into the Greek hero’s bowels. The cave echoed with the moans of the two rutting studs as Hector’s pubic bush slapped against Achilles’ virgin butt.

“By the gods, Hector! I’ve never felt anything like this before. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me!” Achilles groaned. He extended his arms to grasp Hector’s butt-cheeks and pull them towards him, resulting in an even tighter connection between the two muscular heroes.

Hector froze, not moving a muscle, afraid that he would cum too soon. A wave of orgasm threatened to engulf him, but he fought it back determinedly. “Shit, Achilles,” the Trojan prince hissed through clenched teeth, “Your ass is so damned tight! I’ve never felt such an incredibly snug, hot hole. It feels like thousands of tiny feathers massaging my cock all along its length in a molten vise.”

Soon Hector regained control of himself, and he began to piston out and in, fucking the Greek’s virgin ass with long, sure strokes. The cave was filled with the sound of their grunts and moans, along with the slapping of flesh against flesh as Hector’s bull-like balls repeatedly smacked against Achilles’ spread butt cheeks.

“Hang on, Hector,” Achilles said eventually. “I want to try something. Let me up, and you lie down on the bench on your back.” Puzzled, Hector pulled back, and his cock came out of Achilles’ hole with a loud ‘pop,’ bobbing wildly. Achilles got to his feet, and Hector lay flat on the bench, with his muscular legs straddling it, his feet flat on the ground. His rock-hard throbbing rod stood proudly erect from his crotch. Achilles, whose own big boner was gleaming with the drool from his piss-slit, straddled Hector’s midriff so that the two were facing each other. Reaching behind him, he grabbed Hector’s cock and guided it back inside himself, sitting down on it hard.

“Holy shit!” Hector cried as the underside of his spongy cockhead plowed over Achilles’ love-nut. Achilles bellowed in ecstasy, experiencing for the first time the extreme pleasure that a cock rubbing against his prostate could give him, and his rampant ramrod belched a large dollop of pre-cum from the piss-slit. Never having been fucked before, the Greek hero was experiencing a vast new vista of sexual gratification from the Trojan prince.

“Oh, fuck, Hector!” Achilles moaned. “What have I been missing all these years? I never knew that having a cock up my ass could feel so fantastic.” He began to bounce up and down over the naked prince, repeatedly skewering himself on Hector’s long, thick prong. Hector’s hips rose up to meet his every downward thrust. For several minutes they fucked, their muscular bodies glistening with sweat in the flickering firelight. Almost imperceptibly, the pace of their copulating increased, until at last they could no longer bear the friction.

“By all the gods, Achilles,” Hector cried, “I can’t hold in my seed any longer. I’m going to shoot!” He desperately tried to uncouple from the Greek hero, but Achilles refused to be dislodged.

“Cum inside me, Hector,” the Myrmidon exhorted. “Let me feel you shoot your male essence up my butt.”

The Trojan prince gave an agonized bellow of lust as he released. Sperm thundered up the thick shaft of his boner and erupted into Achilles’ receptive body. His spasming cock ruthlessly prodded Achilles’ prostate, triggering the Greek’s own overwhelming orgasm as it drenched the walls of his fuckchute in slippery semen.

Achilles howled as he felt his balls draw up, and his hot sperm boiled up the length of his swollen shaft and arced out the tip of his cock, splattering in wet puddles over Hector’s face, his neck, and his heaving torso. Involuntarily he flexed his sphincter, squeezing Hector’s wracked rod even tighter, causing even more throbs of the Trojan’s boner as it ejected still more of the prince’s potent load inside him.

The two heroes thrashed and moaned as simultaneous climaxes drained their brawny bodies. Eventually their muscular spasms waned, and Achilles collapsed in exhaustion on Hector’s sweaty, cum-slicked chest. The Trojan prince embraced the Greek hero in his muscular arms and rubbed his heaving back soothingly as they both struggled to calm their gasping breaths after their exertions.

Eventually Achilles stirred, raising himself up to gaze at his new fuck-buddy lying beneath him. “Now that your seed is inside me, Hector, you are a part of me – closer than a brother, more like a lover.” He scooped up as much of his own spent load from Hector’s face and body as he could with one hand. “Open your mouth and take my seed, so that we will be equal in this.” Hector complied, and Achilles let his congealing sperm drop onto Hector’s tongue. The Trojan prince swallowed it down, and then gathered Achilles back in his arms and kissed him deeply.

Breaking the kiss after a long moment, Hector said, “Before we leave this cave tonight, I want to feel you inside me, Achilles. That way we will truly be bonded.” The two men lay motionless as the fire became embers.