Fiction: Tryst With A God

February 09, 2010
Deepti Lamba

The rosy cheeked cherub grinned at her. She stared back at him. No owl hooted, no wind woo wooed against her window pane and no full moon stared down at earth demanding the presence of a werewolf. Yet there was a creature straight out of the world made of mythologies buzzing way with wings at the foot of her bed.

The cherub seemed no more than three years old. His nether parts were barely covered by a coarse cotton cloth held together by a yellow diaper safety pin. His hair was the color of spun gold and in his hands he held a bow, a heart shaped arrow and a quiver on his back.

Tacky she thought and leaned against the headboard of the bed. Her fingers tightened over the rough leather collar of her dog - Banjo the Rottweiler. She could feel the tremble of the dog's low growl caused by the intruder's presence.

The thin bedsheet that covered her naked breasts slipped and pooled around her waist. Like gentle hillocks the breasts rose from her emaciated rib cage and the narrow brown nipples capped the slumbering volcanoes.

The cherub's smile widened and he pointed the tip of the torrid heart on her breasts. She lightened her clasp over Banjo who was mesmerised by the tiny dangling pink toes of the child stranger and the low growling increased a notch. Even the dog knew that the intruder before them was not human.

She cleared her throat and asked "Lets get one thing out of the way first. I am not dreaming, right?"

Cupid raised an eyebrow and raised his arrow to her head.

She nodded and spoke as if she was making an everyday observation "There is a little greek god in my bedroom and he has a weapon in his hands. Tell me why I shouldn't let my dog have his way with you? That is if you are real and I haven't lost my mind."

Cupid shrugged and she watched his pudgy arms stretch into action. The bow's string became tight and the arrow was aimed at her head.

"Bummer!" she muttered as the twang sang loudly in her room and the arrow sliced through the air to swarm her mind with hearty heart love.

Cupid sucked in a breath. It was his turn to feel the sharp echoes of surprise resound in his mind. Couldn't be, he thought.

The arrow had stopped just inches before her forehead and was clasped between her joint palms. She threw the arrow away and glared at him.

"You are a Ninja Assasin! They are extinct." His words of protest made her smirk.

She pulled back Banjo who had risen to his haunches in attack mode and replied "No. I abhor violence. This is the result of yogic meditation. I recently mastered the art of time suspension in the local YMCA evening classes."

"YMCA?! Is that some sort of a warrior community?" he let his bow fall to his side and spoke again. His words reminded her of smooth Maple syrup over hot pancakes, of musky heat between sheets.

She let out of a husky laugh and ignored the desire that curled between her legs. "Sort of" she replied and asked "Now do you mind telling me what are you doing here before I ask my dog to fetch me your wings?"

Cupid perched himself on her bedpost and his visible weenie disconcerted her and reminded the dog of sausages his mistress shared with him without fail for breakfast.

"Why my wings when you can have me?" he asked mischievously.

"I'm not into cherubs. Thank you very much" she replied and crossed her arms over her breasts causing the nipples to get squashed. The dog put his head down next to his mistress's covered thighs and fell asleep. There was no threat apparently and he had sleep to make up.

Cupid relaxed and laid the bow over his pudgy little knees and replied "Well, tonight I have to be in this form. That was one of the conditions I had to agree to."

Her lips tightened and she asked "Conditions? What are you talking about?"

He shrugged and looked through the French windows at the moon that silently guarded the sleeping world "I was called in to carry out a hit on you. A favor for someone in high places."

"High places?! you are not making any sense. I don't know any god, demi-god or ..or-"

"Or anyone who worships us? We haven't been worshipped for a very long human time. You want to know who made me come here to make you fall in love?"

"Of course I want to you to tell me who conjured you up so you could..." she raised her hands in wide circular motions and then pointed at his bow.

"Make you fall in love." he completed her sentence. He watched her with the eyes of a hawk watching an innocent field mouse "It was Karan."

"Karan?! That techie who sits in the next cubicle at my office? That fellow barely talks to me!" she threw off her sheet with vicious kicks and the dog raised his head at the sudden movement and gave her languid look of protest.

"You humans make things more complicated than they need be." Cupid shrugged. "All he needed to do was tell you how he felt but I see now why he couldn't."

"What do you mean?" she thundered and looked around for her robe. Cupid's eyes followed her slim form, the play of her buttock muscles and her elbows that jutted out like dry knobby branches.

She yanked open her chest of drawers and pulled on a large t-shirt instead. Cupid looked at the dog and rolled his eyes in disappointment. Humans and their defense mechanisms always began with ensuring their bodies were armoured with clothes.

"Okay!" she walked over to the little perched god and asked " How did he get you to come over?"

"My mother runs what you people call a flower shop just round the corner."

"Your mother?" her mouth fell open

"She gets tired once in a while and likes to play - agony mother to humans."

She corrected him "Agony aunt."

He nodded and eyed the shirt that read - no fucking me if you won't kiss da frog

"Why do you want people to kiss frogs?" he asked

"What?" she glared at him and shook her head "Oh! its just a stupid t-shirt. Doesn't mean anything. So Karan put a hit on me?"

Cupid left the bedpost and his dimunitive form stood on the bed quite close to the Banjo who opened one eye, looked at the little child he could easily maul and went back to dreaming of pork sausages.

"No, my mother put a hit on you. I came here as a favor to my mother. If it was Karan I would have come as me."

"As you? what do you mean?" She put her hands on her waist and demanded

The cherub gave a feral smile that drowned her vagina with heavy passion. She took a deep pranayam breath in all the way to the pit of her belly and exhaled.

"I would have come as Apollo. This form is made by human perception. You would have liked that?" he asked softly.

The lust on the young face sat strangely and made her feel disoriented but she refused to take her eyes off him.

"Maybe not. Banjo would have killed you in a nanosecond. Your child form saved you from becoming Greek or Roman chops."

"Fair enough. Now what are we to do? I have a task to carry forward." he asked her softly and let his eyes run over her body.

"Do you always follow what your mama tells you to do?" she whispered back and felt her nipples tweak.

The god in his small form let his bow and quiver full of arrows fall on the bed "No. Not always. But it is a hit and I have to follow through."

She licked her lips and whispered back "I am not stopping you but you must hit me in your true form."

He stood still and replied " If I do that the hit will be mine and not Karan's."

"Fair enough." She answered back and felt her knees tremble with anticipation.

"There won't be any going back. There will be repercussions." he warned her

She shrugged and as she lifted her over sized t-shirt he changed form.

The room brightened for a second. She suspended time, stared at Apollo's muscular divinity and muttered "Oh my!"

dee.jpgDeepti Lamba is an author, besides editing at Desicritics
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