Brotherly Love | By : tehuti88 Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Myths Views: 4687 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. |
AFF STORY CODES/CONTENT WARNINGS: Angst, Complete, H/C, Inc, M/F, OC, Oneshot, Other (sexual activity w/ no humans involved; adultery)
STORYLINE CODE: H (set in the Horus/Kemet storyline)
TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): NA (after Kingdom Of The Hawk (unwritten))
PAIRING: Set/Nephthys (M/F)
EXPLANATION: See "Wandering Thoughts" for an explanation behind this scene. I wanted to show the reconciliation between the exiled Set and his long-suffering wife, Nephthys, who he had abandoned for years. After a brief tryst with the foreign goddess Astarte, Set finally comes home to his real wife...aw. *sniff* *wipes tear* See? He's not ALL evil...
PERSONAL DISCLAIMERS: This scene is older than "Wandering Thoughts," so if there is discontinuity, that's why.
This scene is from circa 2003, so some details and the writing style may be out of date.
Brotherly Love
He looked down at the bed. Nephthys lay sprawled on her back, legs tangled in the coverings. The right shoulderstrap on her dress had fallen, so her breast peeked out from under her clothing. Her hair was slightly mussed and her face was peaceful. She slept on without even knowing that he was back, he was there, and he could leave freely without her ever knowing.
The only thing was...he didn't want to leave. Since he had been with Astarte something had changed. The foreign goddess had aroused a fire in him that he never knew he'd had. And while being with her had whetted his appetite--he still had visions of them, of him thrusting into her as she knelt with her back to him, of her grasping his thighs to urge him on--it had also kept that fire burning. So that now when he looked down at Nephthys, he didn't feel like turning away. He felt like...going to her.
Seeing her asleep--muscles slack, breast bared, legs spread--made him ache. She was vulnerable to him, to anything that he should wish to do. Yet he knew he would never have to force her. She had always complied, always submitted to him, even when he sensed she didn't wish to. He had never had to fight. Nor did he wish to. And now...
The last time he had been with her was...before her second miscarriage. He shut his eyes briefly. Gods, that had been so long ago. Anubis, Horus, even Horus's sons had been born since then. And all this time he--and she--had been alone, until Astarte had approached him and ignited that fire--no, Nephthys had ignited it, years ago, but it had been dormant for so very long.
The fire rose within him and he could barely control it. He reached down to touch her face, her shoulder, his hand instead falling on her breast, the aureole just peeking over the top of her dress; one motion freed it of its constraints and his fingers squeezed the soft flesh, the nipple pressing against his palm. His wife's eyes shot open and a startled cry arose in her throat, which he stifled by covering her mouth with his own. His hands grasped her arms now. For the briefest second she struggled against him, eyes wild, motions frantic with fear; then her muscles relaxed as he sensed that she recognized him. Of course she wouldn't have expected him. He hadn't come to her in years.
His tongue had forced its way inside her mouth on their first contact, and now it explored her own. He felt her untense. He kept his eyes closed now; the heat was too great. He would have to take her now, or find another way to relieve the pain...
After another pause she moved again, and he felt her hands on his neck, not pushing him away, but drawing him down. He waited for no other sign. Quickly, he undid and disposed of his clothing, tossing his girdle and kilt to the floor. He pulled at her dress, trying somewhat unsuccessfully not to rip it in his haste to remove it. He opened his eyes to look at her now. Nephthys's body shivered as if with cold. He glanced at her full breasts, her flat stomach, the dark patch of hair between her legs. Immediately he could no longer control himself. One hand grasped at the hair there; Nephthys gasped and he kissed her again, moving to her ear, down to her neck; he felt her breathing, thick and heavy, and her hands upon him, stroking his sides, his hips, his buttocks.
Visions of Astarte. Pushing into her. The arch of her body as he penetrated her, the toss of her head as he climaxed. Visions of Nephthys, welcoming him, submitting to him, letting him do as he desired...
He moved over her, pressing close. Her body trembled beneath him. A mere touch, and she had already parted her legs wide, but now she pressed herself to him. Her breath--his breath--came fast. He reached below her--spread her buttocks--felt her juices on his fingers--pushed himself inside. A shock of pleasure-pain--it was as if Astarte's encounter had never been--he felt all of the fires that had built inside him over the years spring to roaring life. Nephthys moaned and moved beneath him, embracing him, her hands running over his back, her mouth to his ear. "Brother," she whispered, breath fanning lightly over his skin. "Dear Brother--I've missed you--"
His teeth scored her neck. He heard his own voice come, husky and guttural, though it was as if he didn't command it at all. "Dear Sister. I've longed for you."
She looked surprised, hearing him speak. He couldn't be sure if he'd said it or not. Instead he focused on her. The sweet pain had worn off, but he was as hot as ever. He moved against her heavily, once, heard her resulting gasp--moved again--the fire roared high--he grasped her hips, started plunging, in and out--muscles tightening and loosening--breath coming hard.
Nephthys moaned and writhed. Her hands tore at the bedclothes, then tore at his own back, scoring his skin. Her legs rubbed against his. She clutched at his buttocks, squeezing him with each thrust--he thought briefly of Astarte--then his thoughts fell entirely on Nephthys.
She was here. She pleased him. Her body, so supple, so willing...the fire burned only for her now. He kissed her, mouthed at her neck and shoulder, sucked on her breasts--"Oh! My Brother!" she cried out, moving with him. He growled in response--he might have heard himself murmur some words back to her--"Dear Sister--my Sister"--but he wasn't sure. It all became a haze. He knew only from the light in the room that he coupled with her for two hours or so, the fire inside him was so great. Daylight began to line the walls.
Nephthys cried out regularly now, voice growing hoarse with exhaustion. He still felt unrelieved. Yet he sensed rather than realized the noise they made--his wife's frequent cries, his own low groan of lust and desire, the slight but steady--rapid now--thumping of her bed as they moved upon it. Someone must have heard them by now. He was unsatisfied, but the act had gone on long enough.
He grunted and spurted inside of her. Nephthys shrieked out a gasp, hips pumping up at him. Her thighs trembled at his sides. A current passed through her body; as soon as Set let out his breath, she did as well, sinking down beneath him. He pulled himself from her before he could have visions of her again. They collapsed side by side, panting and staring up at the star-bedecked ceiling.
The time passed. He slept fitfully, his dreams full of visions. And when he awoke, the visions leaving him full and hard and aching again, when the sunlight streamed in through her windows, he reached out to touch his drowsing wife, turning her over onto her stomach, rising and climbing atop her, spreading her buttocks again and mounting her--hearing her startled gasp as he brought her out of a half-sleep--and coupling with her again, thrusting rapidly, taking her again in the full daylight as he knelt atop her, she lying prone beneath him--he came and ejaculated quickly this time, in under fifteen minutes, felt Nephthys's responding shudder, knew that she'd come too--and pulled himself out of her once more, his appetite temporarily sated--for now.
1200+ words
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