Encounters with a Greek God
Part I
Midsummer, island hopping in the Aegean, I got off a local transit boat on an out-of-the-way island just to see how it would be to live in a totally non-touristed environment for a few days. Only a few of the inhabitants could cope with English, but I managed to find a room in what purported to be a small hotel but, described more accurately, would be termed a beehive of rooms, each with its own entrance from one of several exterior stairs and terraces. A taverna nearby was the principal source of meals. My needs were simple and I was enthralled by the sense of being cut off from the rest of the world.
I spent my time wandering around the island, through the village, and out into the countryside, mainly along the rocky shore, where an occasional inlet afforded a sandy beach. The clear turquoise and azure water, the bright sun, and the rocky cliffs were all I needed for sensual comfort -- well, almost enough. My libido still functioned and sex was never far from my mind, although I had come without expectations of finding it in this alien paradise. Consequently, if I was not disappointed doing without, my appetites didn't disappear nonetheless.
So I was pleasantly surprised when, on the afternoon of my last day, on the opposite side of the island from the village, I came upon a sight that changed all that. A young man was diving from a rock overhang into the water, gathering sponges. Two things about him immediately riveted my attention: he was incredibly handsome, with a lithe muscular body, and he was nude. Over and over, I watched him arc into the water and emerge, splashing, as he gradually increased the pile of sponges, during most of an hour before he discovered my presence. He seemed utterly unself-conscious about being observed naked, perhaps because I, too, am male and maybe also because I am close enough to him in age for us to be brothers under the skin. In any event, I waved when he saw me and greeted him in friendly fashion and he flashed a brilliant smile in response. I didn't know a word of Greek and he apparently was innocent of English, but that didn't seem to pose a barrier to our friendly co-existence on this isolated location.
Needless to say, from the start my own interest was more than -- shall we say? -- anthropological. It was a good thing I was clothed, albeit only in shorts and a T-shirt and sandals, because my penis was inclined to rise in salute. Even so, I did not assume that I could make any headway with this young man, not least because I couldn't say anything intelligible to him, nor he to me. So I mainly just grinned a lot and tried to imply admiration for what he was accomplishing with his pile of sponges. After another half hour of observing, the pile had grown nearly three feet high, close to a man's capacity for carrying them away, bound up, as I would later see, in a large net bag.
On the spur of the moment I decided it would be nice to acquire a momento of this pleasant interlude, (not realizing, as I later learned, that the sponge is a living creature that has to be dried and cleaned in order to be retained in a domesticated setting before being used). So, as he stood next to his sponges I walked over, pointed to one on the top of the pile, and offered him about ten dollars worth of drachmas, aware that a natural sponge is never cheap.
He smiled, trying to guess what I meant. From his point of view, I guess, it was unthinkable that someone could want a sponge newly taken from the sea, so it did not immediately occur to him that that was what I was offering the money for. Undoubtedly he thought I was pointing at something else near the top of the pile, for he shook his head as if to say that the money wasn't enough. Because I was eager to have this souvenir I took out from my wallet an equal amount and added it to what I already held. He grinned and nodded, but still he didn't hand over a sponge.
Perhaps I should give him credit for having inferred what was definitely at the back of my mind, and preferable to any sponge. Maybe he assumed that without such an interest I would not likely have sat and observed his gathering activity for more than an hour. In any event, he took the proffered money, pointed at his cock and then at my face, I was dumbfounded, even embarrassed at first, that my dearest desire could be so baldly recognized and so easily granted, I was all the more surprised because he was assenting to sell his favors for an amount that would be considered absurdly low in most other circumstances.
He was matter-of-fact about it. He pointed to a path that led just around the nearest jutting rock of the low cliff, which led, to my surprise, to a plastered alcove that provided a bench. It was like a rustic throne overlooking the blue waves, perfect for the reign of a young sea god. Before it there was just enough ground for me to kneel on without falling off the cliff. He sat down straight away, motionless, and braced his hands behind his head, making his body maximally available to me. Except for the hair in his armpits and crotch, he was as smooth and sculpted as the marble of an ancient statue, a breathtaking male beauty. He could easily be taken as a pagan god enthroned to be worshiped
Before getting fully involved I leaned over and nuzzled his neck with my cheek and chin, kissing his neck and flicking my tongue on it lightly. Then I kissed and nibbled at his nipples and ran my tongue down his torso to his navel. His body was slightly salty from the sea. He didn't move at all and his only reaction was the slightest hint of a smile. Then I knelt between his outspread legs and kissed his penis and balls. Only after I began to suck did he respond, placing his hands lightly on my head, caressing the back of my neck and running his fingertips through my hair. By now, his cock was fully hard and I moaned with pleasure. He grunted slightly and pressed my head further down on his erection, until I had engulfed it all. "Am I in heaven, or what?" I asked myself as I began to devour this erotic feast.
The amazing thing was that he seemed to regard what I was doing with him as completely normal, without even a hint of self-conscious awkwardness. And so I enjoyed myself and did all I could to pleasure him for as long a time as I could legitimately make it last. In due course he stiffened and bucked, shooting, as nearly as I could count, nine or ten jets of hot, thick, creamy semen into my mouth, all of which I eagerly swallowed.
I could not bear to let this marvelous event end any sooner than it had to, so I remained with my face on his crotch, his now-softened penis still in my mouth. I moaned to express my satisfaction, meaning to convey my undying appreciation. But my moan seemed to mean something quite other to him, for I felt him tense and strain. Before I knew what was happening, a warm salty stream was coursing into my mouth. He can't be, I thought, but he was -- no doubt about it -- pissing in my mouth, as if it were the most natural thing to do after fellatio. I am not unacquainted with water sports, so I was neither offended not upset. Given what I had just enjoyed I put this in the best possible light and just made every effort to drink it down. Drink is the right word for it and drink I did. I took it all.
His hands once again placed behind his head, exposing his body in the most open way, I raised myself, gradually kissing his torso, and then -- something I don't usually do -- kissing his armpits. I wanted the maximum exposure to his carnality. Strangely nothing I did the whole time seemed to strike him as freakish or even unusual. Was this due to some peculiarity of the island culture or just his personality -- in other words, to his experience or instinct? Whatever, it seemed to me something rare and precious, this unashamed willingness to accept without reservation all that a human partner wants to express.
As I stood up to leave, in a lightening flash of inspiration, I whipped out a card the hotel had given me to serve as identification if I got lost. I scribbled my room number on it and added a figure in drachmas that would equal $100, hoping that something even more interesting than what had just transpired might occur in the coming night. I smiled broadly, nodded, and turned to leave. As I looked back I thought I saw him also smile and nod. "Well," I thought, "we shall see . . ."
Part II
During my return to the village I was so absorbed in excitement about what had just happened that I was back almost before I was aware I had been trekking for the better part of an hour. I took a nap in my room, but not before jerking off just thinking about my fabulous adventure. I woke, showered, and went out into the golden late-hour sunset to my usual taverna for dinner, glowing as brightly inside as the sun outside. Which was more delicious, reflecting upon what had transpired or anticipating what might happen if I were so lucky were he to come to my room? The thing that made anticipation all the more tantalizing was that I had no idea when he might come -- if he came, always if.
I made my dinner last as long as I could, staring out at the beautiful harbor scene, trying to engrave it upon my memory, as this was my last night on the island, my last sunset, my last dinner, my last hours of consuming lust that had been awakened in the afternoon. What can I say? My consciousness had traversed during the course of this day from serene tranquility to ravenous desire. I couldn't get him out of my mind. And yet I had no way of knowing whether or not I should ever see him again. At last, I got enough of a hold on myself to return to my room, perhaps to pack my meager belongings, maybe write in my journal, do something -- anything -- to subdue the memory of my encounter and store it with the other happy incidents of my life.
All those tasks performed, as nearly as I was able, I decided just in case to lay out on the table $100 worth of drachmas, so if he did come there would be no awkward fumbling for the money. It was just before midnight and I removed my clothes, turned out the light, and lay down to sleep. But I was wide-awake, simply lying there, staring up into the dark. Outside the sounds of the village had subsided and there was mostly silence. Then came a soft but unmistakable rapping on my door. At first I hesitated, thinking that the thing I so urgently hoped for surely could not be true. But there was one more rapping and I leapt up to open the door, forgetting that I was nude. There, to my enormous relief, he stood wearing a loose white shirt, long white pants, tied at the waist, and sandals. In the bright moonlight his clothing glowed, as did his brilliant smile. He chuckled seeing me naked, a reversal of earlier in the day.
I gestured for him to come in, shut the door and latched it, then flipped on the light switch for the low table lamp. He glanced about the shadowy room, saw the disheveled bed and the tube of lube on the stand beside it, spied the money on the table, and recognized that he had been anticipated, despite there having been no specified hour or commitment to meet. He looked me up and down appraisingly, then fixed his eyes on mine, where he could easily read my relief, and delight, that he had actually come. As there was nothing we could say to each other, he matter-of-factly removed his shirt, pulled the tie on his trousers, and let them fall to the floor, as he kicked off his sandals. His physical reality was as intoxicating as it had been by the sea in the afternoon. Then he stepped forward and clasped me tightly in his arms, so that our cocks were pressed together.
The warmth of his hard body was electrifying. I nuzzled his neck and made a move toward his lips, but he turned away, as if a kiss was a step beyond where he was willing to go. I could accept that that was his limit, but I took that rejection as a signal to proceed straightaway to genital activity. So, I headed for his nipples, which I nibbled and sucked. I went down and down until I was on my knees (damn, the tile floor was hard!), kissing and sucking his dick, then his balls, then his dick, again. When he was fully erect, he took me by the hand, pulled me up, and led me to the bed. Hoping he would do more, I got on all fours. He took the hint, lubed his cock and mounted me, pressing his cock head against my pucker. I pressed down inside to receive him, as his fuck organ pierced my ring and sank deep inside me.
He did not rush things unduly, letting me get used to his cock with long slow strokes. I moaned, he grunted, his strokes became faster, and the impact of his pelvis against my ass, harder and harder. He was a manly lover, lying close on top of me for the sensation of bodily contact, but never forgetting that his penis in my rectum was the point of what we were doing. I slowly swiveled my ass for him, I pressed back against his crotch when he was in to the hilt, I milked his organ, I moaned appreciatively. I was gratified that he grunted and groaned when he finally came in me, as if it really meant something to him. It was thrilling, not to put too fine a point on it, to have his seed deep inside me. He did not rush in withdrawing, caressing my back before he did, but when his penis slipped out he calmly wiped himself off on the upper sheet as if it were the most obvious way to take care of the matter. Then he embraced me from behind and we lay still, folded close together. When he roused he could have taken his leave -- after collecting the money on his way out -- without causing offense. But he didn't. I took advantage of his hesitation to reach up and caress him.
He apparently took this as a signal that more was wanted, because he paused and hovered over me, then nibbled at my nipples and ran the tip of his tongue down my torso. To my astonishment and delight he licked my cock and took it in his mouth. I gasped with pleasure and he continued with such intensity that I was soon raging hard. I was wondering if he would take me to a happy ending, especially after he pulled off and just caressed my balls. But instead, reaching for the lube on the bedside stand, he straddled me and applied a quantity of the tube's contents to my cock. Then he reared up and placed my cock head against his pucker and swiveled his pelvis as he pushed down. I could scarcely believe that after the incredible privilege of being fucked by this human divinity he was now letting me fuck him. He rode me energetically, but was fully accommodating also to my upward thrusts. As I neared orgasm I began to experience a rare full-body tingling, a physical ecstasy I had come close to before but never like this. When I exploded into him it was with an intensity of sensation quite beyond all my experience. I could only thank my lucky stars that I had impulsively invited this earlier in the day.
As I softened, he pulled off, wiped me off on the sheet, and rose from the bed. Still almost numb from joyous release, I lay back, watched him dress and collect the money from the table. This was all so much more than I had dared hope for, so much more satisfying than all previous couplings I had arranged for money, that I leaped of the bed, retrieved my wallet from my pants, and drew out another $100 worth of drachmas. As I handed it to him he seemed overcome with gratitude. After pocketing the money he took my hand, looking me straight in the eye, then embraced me. Once again, it was I who was nude and he clothed as he held me close. He nibbled my neck then hovered with his lips over mine. He lightly kissed my lips and flicked them with his tongue. My lips parted in breathless surprise and he planted his mouth squarely on mine. His tongue darted inside and then plunged as I responded, helplessly folded in his tight embrace. This was no casual kiss; he held it on and on, indeed for several minutes, our tongues entwining. It was if an electric current passed through my whole body. At last I knew what it is like for a woman to adore a man utterly and completely with all her physical being.
Since he had evaded my kiss before, I could only accept that he had been so overcome by my generosity he was willing to relinquish his guarded limit. But regardless of how it came to be, this climax to a glorious pair of pairings was so gratifying to me that I was practically levitating with happiness. I sensed that to delay his departure any longer would be anticlimactic, so I made no gesture to stall his departure into the moonlit night, his white clothing glowing as it had when he arrived. Truly this had been like the carnal visitation of a god.
Epilogue
Needless to say, after this, sleep was scarcely possible, all the more because I needed to be up early for departure. Dawn arrived soon enough and, after repacking my bag, I ate an early breakfast, paid my bill at the hotel, and wheeled my luggage over the cobblestones to the pier where the transit boat was already pulling alongside the dock. People of the village were out and about, beginning their new day. Seeing them made me wonder where my Greek god was at this hour. Having nothing to detain me, I bought my ticket and boarded the boat. My whimsical choice of this out-of-the-way island had rewarded me so greatly that I could not do otherwise than stand at the stern, closest to the village, and take a farewell look at the place that had brought me one of the most memorable adventures of my life.
It was then that I saw a figure in white making his way down onto the dock, along with other men, women, and children, undoubtedly there to see other passengers off. I recognized my stalwart divinity, peering at the boat expectantly. I waved and caught his eye; he waved back and flashed that dazzling smile. Then I saw standing with him a beautiful young woman and two small children. He pointed to me as he turned toward them and they all waved, too.
In a flash I understood why he had been willing to accommodate my desires for what, to him, was undoubtedly a great deal of money. Never mind that by doing so he had made a personal compromise few straight men would be willing to accept under any circumstances. It was then, also in a flash, that my happiness in what had transpired during the previous day and night became ambiguous. In a rush, I recognized what I had really done. Stinging guilty tears filled my eyes, unbidden, and rolled uncontrollably down my cheeks. As the boat pulled away from the dock and out onto the water they clouded my last look at this innocent paradise, one I had unwittingly sullied with my lust and money.
Yet, as the island receded into the distance, the wake of the boat trailing back toward the dock, a very different thought suddenly occurred to me -- is it not just possible that the sullying of innocence had been the other way around?