Percy Jackson and the Curse of Lust

I had a blast over our day at the beach. And, no, it wasn't just sex. 

Although there was a lot of it.

After the girls got their fill we returned to Rachel, who was doing an impressive job at looking natural. I took turns bringing different people to the ocean floor, summoning fish and letting them see the gorgeous kaleidoscope of aquatic plants. When that was done, we had a sandcastle building competition. Annabeth won.

As the afternoon dragged on, Rachel suddenly grabbed me, pulling just me back to the hotel.

"You're having dinner with my family," she said. "If I have to deal with that alone one more time, I'm actually going to flip."

I figured I owed her at least that much after leaving her on her own earlier.

We swung by my room to get me dressed up. I was sure I wouldn't have anything good enough for the standards of this kind of hotel, but someone had come by and left a nice button up with dress pants draped on my bed. It wasn't until later that I figured out who.

Rachel herself met up with me in a backless red dress that was unlike anything I'd seen on her. It was a deeper scarlett than her hair, bright against her pale skin.

"Come on." She pulled my by the hand, leading us to a dining room positioned for perfect oceanside views. As soon as we stepped inside, I stopped. I could've cut the tension with Riptide.

There was only one group dining in the whole place. They must've rented the entire restaurant, a fee which was probably more than my mom's annual Manhattan rent. The table itself was long enough to be straight out of a Middle Ages painting, with a white tablecloth and way too many forks in front of each seat.

Sitting at the head of the table was Rachel's dad. He had a full-length tie on despite this being his vacation, which I'm pretty sure is a federal crime. His knuckles were resting on the table, and a bottle of wine was next to his plate. I hated the way he looks at people, and I had ever since I first met him in high school. It's like he's always sizing up everything in the room, estimating not only its value but the exact way he can siphon it into his own bank account.

Sitting to his right was a blond woman who only looked a little older than Rachel and I. She had full figure, but her head looked empty. Beyond her was a very fat, heavily balding man, and beside him was Thomas.

The blond boy looked irritated to see me, but was having trouble pulling his eyes away from Rachel's flashy dress, which meant his mood appeared pretty good overall.

It was a huge table, but there weren't a ton of chairs set out. In fact, after Rachel and I sat down (in the furthest seats from everyone else), that left only one more.

"Who are we waiting for?" I asked.

"Me, I suppose."

I didn't even look to see who had spoken. The familiar voice came from beside the door, calm and confident. A moment later, Emily swept in.

And she wasn't alone.

Her dress was as beautiful as Rachel's, and hugged her body twice as close. Her huge bust strained it, natural rack bobbing slightly with each step. She walked casually in heels as long as Riptide's hilt. Her arm was linked with someone else's, a huge man who immediately caught my attention.

He had rippling muscles, shown off by the short-sleeved shirt he was wearing. His jaw was sharp and clean shaven. He had stern, striking features, paired with fierce eyes. His hair was combed and gelled back. I was sure I'd never seen him before, yet he felt unbelievably familiar at the same time.

"Who?" asked Rachel's dad, voicing the question I'd been wondering.

"Hello," Emily greeted her ex-husband. "I admit, I was surprised to get you invitation. But after everything we've been through, it would've been rude not to accept. Dear, I'd like you to meet Edward."

My jaw dropped. Edward inclined his head. The man turned sideways immediately after, helping Emily stoop into her seat. He looked around for a seat for himself, promptly finding none.

"Ah." Mr. Dare's voice was tight. "The invitation was intended just for Emily, actually. As you can see, we don't have any more chairs available."

He sounded sickeningly polite. Instead of answering, Edward wandered over to the bar. It was lined with stools, each fastened to the ground. He gripped the underside of one with both hands. His muscles rippled. With a soft grunt that was drowned out by groaning metal, he tore it straight up, as if the screws were made of nothing but thin wood.

Returning to the table, he dropped his new seat between me and Emily, sitting down.

"Found one," he reported.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I leaned over to him.

"Blackbeard?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

"Aye, lad," he said, sounding sad. 

"What happened to you?"

"Makeover."

He said it like a dreadful punishment. Emily smiled at everyone.

"Well then," she said, "shall we eat."

I learned a few important things during that meal. First, rich person restaurants had a real fetish for extra silverware. Second, the blond woman next to Mr. Dare was named Nancy, and she was Rachel's new stepmom, a twenty-eight year old woman with a social media following. And third and finally, I learned that Thomas really did not like me.

"You don't hold it like that."

I looked down at my fork in my hands, hovering above my plate.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked. "This is how I always eat."

"Yes, I'm sure it is," Thomas said. "But that is a salad fork, and you're using the complete wrong fingers."

"If they're getting the food into my mouth, how can they be wrong?" I asked.

"Well, I tried," said Thomas. "No helping it."

He looked at Rachel, as if commiserating with her about what a buffoon I was. He seemed to think they shared a moment. Rachel wasn't even looking.

Mr. Dare was talking about how well his business was doing. Nancy was nodding at all the right times, along with Thomas's dad, Mr. Dare's fat friend. I don't think Blackbeard understood a word the entire meal, too busy glaring at salads for polluting his dinner table. The pirate stacked his plate with meat when it arrived, eating voraciously. Mr. Dare visibly flinched when Blackbeared picked up a steak with his hands.

"Not like that," Emily said gently. "Use your silverware."

She grabbed Blackbeard's wrist, getting him to drop the meat, before staring at his fingers, slick with meat juice.

"Oh, we'll have to get those cleaned up first," she said.

And she bent across, sucking his fingers dry with her doubty lips.

Rachel covered her eyes with my hand, although it did nothing to block out the erotic slurping sounds. The whole table gaped. Thomas, his dad, and Mr. Dare drooled a little bit.

"There we go." Emily straightened. "All clean."

The meal went on a little longer after that, but everyone seemed a little out of it. Or, everyone except Emily, who acted as if nothing had happened. When the food was gone, she stood up, Blackbeard standing with her.

"Thank you," she told Mr. Dare warmly. "This was a lovely meal. But it was a long trip to get here today, so I think we'll be returning to our room now."

Our room. Blackbeard winked at me. He hooked his arm over Emily's shoulder and they left, the redhead's hips swaying all the way across the room. Even I felt a little dazed.

Mr. Dare looked at Nancy sitting beside him. He looked back at Emily's hips, still swaying as they disappeared out the door. He scowled and stood up, pulling his wife along as they left without a word.

Things had already been awkward, but with just four of us left I was ready to get out of there. Unfortunately, when I stood up with Rachel, Thomas felt the need to get in the way again.

"Rachel, you and your mom have such a strong resemblance," he said.

"Thanks," Rachel said flatly.

Seeing that conversation hadn't gone anywhere, Thomas scrambled. "The bar's open. Let's have a few drinks, on me!"

He paused, glancing at me. 

"Just the two of us, of course. I can't be bothered to explain how to hold a shot glass the way I had to explain a salad fork."

"Thanks," Rachel said, "but I think I'm just going to go back to my room."

Thomas shot up. "I'll walk you!"

"No you won't," she told him.

Rachel pulled me toward the door.

O-O-O

"Well, that was exciting," I said.

"I can't believe that he invited mom," Rachel muttered. "Is he crazy? I can't figure out if he was trying to make her feel jealous, or trying to win her back."

"Either way, it failed."

She giggled. "Definitely. Did you see the look on his face?"

We were climbing the stairs, walking side by side. It had been a long time since we left the dining room, but despite dropping her pace and no longer pulling me along, Rachel still hadn't let go of my hand.

"As fun as it was… There was something else that we came all this way for."

"Are you rushing your Oracle right now," Rachel asked.

"Trying not to. But there's a lot at stake, so…"

She looked into my eyes. "I know. Come on."

We kept climbing until we reached the fifth floor of the hotel. We walked down a nice hall that smelled a little too strongly of over-the-counter cleaning supplies, until Rachel stopped in front of one of the many identical doors.

As she pressed her card against the electric lock and waited for it to beep, sounds leaked through the wall from the room next door.

Very high-pitched, distinctive, feminine sounds.

"Mom got that room," Rachel said, although even voicing that sentence seemed to make her a bit nauseous.

"Ah," I said.

The same way that Mr. Dare had been trying to make an impression on Emily, she'd been trying to make her own right back. It started with her flashy entrance, continued when she helped the pirates stay at the hotel, and only got more extreme at dinner. She must've been the one who left fresh clothes in my room, to help me look presentable. She really wanted to get in her ex-husband's head.

And it had worked incredibly well, something she seemed to be celebrating with Blackbeard. Privately. Without clothes. 

The door to Rachel's room opened. We stepped quickly inside. 

She'd taken some liberties, shifting the furniture to make room for painting canvases and an art easel. There were colorful splatters on the wall, something Mr. Dare would definitely be paying extra for at check out. That was probably the reason Rachel had left them in the first place. 

She walked into the middle of the room, her hands linked behind her back. We could still hear Emily, faintly, through the wall, which Rachel was doing her best to ignore. She cocked her head.

"So…" she said. "Prophecy time."

I nodded, telling her to please go on. She hesitated.

"It's like I warned you," she said. "My connection to Apollo… something is getting in the way of it. It's like it's being blocked. But I really do believe I can get through it. It will just take a little bit of work."

"What kind of work?"

"Well, prophecies are more likely to work properly when the oracle is interacting with the person they're for. It's why campers would always go visit my predecessor up in the attic, and that's when the prophecies would come out. My thought is, if it's difficult to get a prophecy out, then us being together will make it more likely to work."

"That all sounds good. But we've been hanging out all day, and nothing's happened yet."

"Then," and here Rachel's voice got quiet, "we should probably interact a little more closely then, shouldn't we?"

The window in her room looked out over the ocean, glittering under the sun's setting rays. It was almost the same color as her hair, framed against the orange tinted glass. Her pale back was dotted with freckles. She was damn pretty. For a moment I felt like I'd hopped back through time, back to days before oracle oaths and relationships.

"My connection to Apollo is blocked right now," she said. "What happens in here would just be between us."

I kissed her.

I looped my hand under her armpit, reaching up from behind and holding her chin in place while our lips mashed together. My other hand went down, cupping her crotch through her dress. All I did was squeeze, letting her know what was coming, and she clenched her legs, shivering.

When our lips separated, I smirked. "Let's just hope you're a screamer in bed."

She threw her lips back onto mine, red curls bobbing out behind her. Twisting in my arms, she pawed desperately at my clothes, tearing open my shirt and sending half the buttons cascading to the floor. I gripped her backside, finding it firm beneath my fingers.

There was real passion in her kiss. I could taste the pure want, built-up over years of denial. I realized right there, under the sensation of her tongue, that she never gave up on me. She just picked what she felt she had to.

Rachel nibbled my lip. I felt her nails in my back, pushing my shirt the last bit off. To even things up, I gripped her dress from behind, tearing it cleanly down her back. Rachel whimpered into my mouth, repeating it a second time when my hands clapped down on her underwear-clad ass.

Somebody knocked on the door. Rachel cursed, tearing her head away reluctantly.

"I'm busy!" she shouted.

"Rachel, it's me," said Thomas's voice. "I tried a glass of this wine and just knew we had to finish the bottle together. I know you weren't interested at the bar… but that was just because you wanted a more private setting."

"Doesn't he ever learn?" she whispered to me, before raising her voice and yelling, "I'm changing!"

"Even better," he said, which I guess was his idea of flirting.

The door beeped, unlocking. Rachel's eyes widened. "Dad gave him the other key?"

She stumbled to the door in her torn dress, which was just about staying up in the front, in time to stop the door from opening all the way. Thomas stood there in the crack that was open about six inches, looking like he'd had more than just a glass of the wine he tried.

"I thought you were changing," he said.

"I was," Rachel snapped. "Get out."

"Still playing hard to get, huh?"

He peered around her into the room, seeing nothing. When the door had opened I slipped around, standing behind Rachel to stay out of sight. This was her problem to deal with as she saw fit.

Of course, if she asked for him to disappear…

While I waited to follow her lead, kneeling off to the side, I quickly became aware of what was in front of my face. While Rachel's dress was just about staying up in the front, the same couldn't be said back here. Her ass was completely visible, only half covered by skimpy green panties. Her skin was so pale that I could see marks from my fingers. I leaned in.

"Playing hard to get implies that in the first place I ever considered playing with you–uuuuuuuuu!" Rachel said.

Her sentence turned into a slurred howl as I pushed aside her panties and dug into her from behind. My strong fingers that had marked her skin kept her cheeks spread. My tongue went at her fiercely and rhythmically, causing her whole body to tremble.

"What is it? Are you sick?" Thomas asked.

"Sick of you," Rachel muttered. But speaking was difficult for her. She shifted her grip on the door, moving her hands so that they were helping keep her standing, instead of just keeping the door closed. 

"Just give me a chance already," Thomas said a bit angrily. "Your father likes me. What right do you have to disagree with him? It's like you don't like men at all!"

My tongue dug deep into Rachel, making her moan. I drove it to her depths. Mustering all she had, Rachel managed to spit out her reply.

"It's you I can't stand," she complained. "You, an overgrown baby that pretends he's a man. You, who can only talk about how much money he has, when it was your family that gave it to you in the first place. You who're too stupid, too arrogant and too headstrong, to ever take a hint. Just get lost!"

She was breathing hard, from anger but also from the work I was doing. Her grip slid slightly down the door, lowering her flushed face. Through the crack, Thomas got a look into the room, at my stripped-off shirt still on the floor.

"Oh," he said, eyes widening. 

Rachel slammed the door on him, cracking against his nose on its way shut.

I pulled my face away from her. "What if he lets himself in again?"

"Then he can see just how much I like men," Rachel moaned. "Just don't stop."

Shrugging, I put my tongue back to work.

As I slurped against her body she leaned forward, arching her back. She pressed her forehead to the door, letting her voice out. Her palms were sliding down the door extremely slowly, a few centimeters every couple seconds, squeaking the entire way. My hands had her cheeks in vice grips. With a final flourish, I could tell instantly that I'd put Rachel over the edge.

I pulled back just in time to watch her cum, squirting all over the carpet beneath us. She screamed— and right as the wail reached its apex, her voice changed into something supernatural. 

"You will journey West, to the Island beyond the setting sun.

Beset by covetous monsters, forced to move on the run."

Just as it seemed like Rachel was about to keep speaking, she cut off and gasped. I kneeled there, looking up at her.

"That was a prophecy," I said, stating the obvious. "But… it was only half."

The island beyond the setting sun was here, Hawaii, while the monsters had been Echidna and her brood. It was the sort of thing heroes were supposed to hear before a quest started, but instead I was only getting it now, after the fact.

"There's more," Rachel muttered, "but the block came back too quickly. I couldn't get it out!"

I nodded, standing up. "That's not important."

She craned her neck, looking back at me. "It isn't?"

"No. Because now we know what works."

She yelped as I scooped her up. Her dress fell away, pooling on the floor, leaving her in just her askew panties and a bra. I carried to the bed and tossed her down, where she landed and bounced.

"If that wasn't enough," I said, unbuttoning my pants, "we'll just have to step things up a notch."

My pants and underwear fell away. Rachel leaked between her legs.

I crawled onto the bed, kneeling above her bare body. My erect cock rested above her crotch, running up to her bellybutton, like a visual representation of what she was about to experience. I reached down, my arms flexing the way Blackbeards had when he tore out the stool as I snapped Rachel's bra in half, revealing her perky tits with stiff purple nipples.

"Let's get you talking," I said.

Rachel whimpered. With a firm grip on her hips, I slammed myself into her.

I hit her womb in one go, opening her up in ways she'd never felt before. I knew she was a virgin, but yet it didn't feel like it, without the pain that usually accompanied first times. Rather than question it, I just took advantage to fuck her faster. 

Rachel's back arched up off the bouncing bed like she was possessed. Her voice immediately burst from her lips. This was exactly what she'd dreamed of for years. I probably should've been scared of being disappointing after all that build up, but at this point, I didn't even think about things like that. I was almost as confident in bed as I was in a fight.

My hands held her hips in place, despite my furious thrusts clapping into her body. Her perky breasts jiggled and shook, until I bent forward and stilled them with my teeth. Rachel's hands twisted up the sheets. She screamed even louder; but no prophecies. Yet.

The bed loudly protested the strain we were putting on it. But as loud as Rachel and the springs were, they weren't the only sound in the room. From the wall behind the headboard, similar sounds were leaking through, along with… rhythmic thumping?

Emily must have been pressed up against the wall, right there on the other side. It was a strange thing to think about, but it gave me a sudden idea.

I hefted Rachel, pinning her against the headboard. Instead of her hips, I grabbed her legs, holding them by the insides of her knees. I folded them up, pressing them against the wood, exposing her pussy. And then I continued to plow into it, creating a sopping mess between her legs.

"I wanted you so bad, for so long," Rachel groaned. "I would touch myself every night, and pretend it was you."

The bottoms of her thighs were turning red. Her curly hair hung down in front of her face, partially blocking it, like a veil.

"So?" I asked. "How do I compare to your fingers!"

Rachel hurled her head back as I stretched her. "I won't be able to feel them ever again!"

Her moans had become so loud that they were basically screams. At the same time, the noises filtering in were growing louder too. Emily and Rachel both wailed, pressed up to the different sides of the same wall. There was something hot about how their voices wove together like a natural duet.

Rachel wasn't the only one who had wanted this. I moved on in life, but she had been one of my first crushes, and she'd only gotten more attractive since. Burying myself up to the balls inside her was a position I never expected to be in, so it felt like a dream come true.

With a final burst of willpower, I managed to pull myself out of her at the last moment. Rachel screamed as I came across her body with surprising force, decorating her tits and even getting trace amounts inside of her open mouth.

That was the final straw. Screaming, Rachel's eyes rolled back, and she spoke.

"You will journey West, to the Island beyond the setting sun.

Beset by covetous monsters, forced to move on the run.

Beyond two great beasts the Oracle will tell

That it is love herself, where the blame first fell."

Rachel slid down the headboard while I breathed hard, processing what I'd just heard. Love herself. That meant…

Before I could think deeply, Rachel reached up, tugging on my hand.

"There might be more," she said, not looking at me.

"But that was four lines already," I said. 

Sometimes prophecies came in six, but not when each line was that long. Still, Rachel didn't let go of my hand.

"I'm just saying," she mumbled. "It wouldn't hurt to be thorough."

I stared down at her, unable to meet my eyes. My cock, just starting to droop, shot back up to full mast.

"Of course," I said. "Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking."

Her eyes widened as I rolled her over. A moment later, I plunged into her from behind. It was a very long time before we stopped— and the entire time, our neighbors next door kept going, matching us step for step.

What a night.