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?