Alida and the Swan

Alida Athanasiou craned her long neck to look out of the cabin window of the big jet as it banked on its final approach to the Athens airport. She felt goosebumps on her arms as she got her first glimpse of the "high city", acro polis in ancient Greek. There it was, the temple of Athena, crowning the birthplace of democracy and home of her ancestors. How many pictures had she seen of this ancient marvel, how many lessons on Greek history had she taught to inattentive, hormone-soaked eighth graders, trying her best to ignite in them some tiny spark of interest in something other than her full breasts and long, shapely legs. But no, she only saw envious looks from the girls and outright lust from the boys. Even the frequently salacious myths of the Olympian gods which she herself loved couldn't break through.

But now she was here at last, on a long-awaited vacation to the land of her dreams. Abruptly she realized that her seatmate was using the view of Athens as one more excuse to ogle her breasts. Why, oh why had she not thought before changing to shorts and a halter in Rome! She couldn't help it if she was attractive, but she should have had more sense than to leave her lustrous dark hair long, and perhaps wear big sunglasses to draw attention away from her smooth pale skin and full coral lips. She squirmed and tried to make herself smaller but realized that she had inadvertently accentuated her ample cleavage.

Not that she wished she weren't beautiful; she did secretly enjoy the looks men gave her, and even the frankly inviting stares from some of the more mature boys in her classes. But she wished she could somehow avoid unwelcome male attention when she wanted to, like now. Oh well, they'd be landing soon, and she could lose herself in the wonders of ancient Greece, exploring the locale of some of the marvelous and even scandalous legends she taught about. She straightened up in her seat and waited.

She spent a week in Athens. She loved every minute of it. She visited all the ancient sites, ate wonderful food in outdoor restaurants and wandered freely about the city. She could have had plenty of male companionship if she wanted it, given the frequency of attempted pickups by Greek males, but except for a single night with a very handsome waiter in her local taverna, she passed.

Athens was marvelous, but she was glad to pick up her rental car and head south to the Peloponnesus, the site of so many of the great Greek legends, of gods and goddesses, satyrs and monsters, of Cerberus, Hydra, Echidna, centaurs, harpies, and so many other wonderful characters. She wanted so much to see the land over which they roamed and ruled and had their way with poor mortals.

A few days later she visited Sparta. What a disappointment that was! Nothing of the ancient city remained. Just a tatty, dusty commercial town. Leaving it behind, she drove south, toward the Mediterranean, following the ancient Eurotas, now a sad remnant of its ancient self, drained by irrigation. Still, the ancient land was there, and beautiful yet. She could easily picture Diana hunting stags along its banks, or Athena resting beside an olive tree. Perhaps Zeus had flown over this land seeking women to satisfy his lust, pursued by Hera in her jealousy.

Dressed casually in a short skirt and a loose-fitting blouse, she picked up a small lunch of olives, cheese, and wine in Skortsinos, and around noon pulled over by the river. She found a secluded flat area by a wide spot in the river and spread the blanket she had bought in Athens. She ate her light lunch and indulged in some heady Greek wine. The day was warm, the ancient countryside basking under the Aegean sun. She listened to the birds and the lazy buzzing of bees. She watched some swans swimming in the gentle eddies of the river. She relaxed, embracing the ambiance of the timeless scene. The warm sultry Greek afternoon combined with the wine to lull her into a kind of reverie, imagining herself in some of the ancient legends. Looking around to be sure she was alone, she unbuttoned her blouse and her skirt and removed them to try to feel what it must have been like in those ancient days without the bonds of modern clothes. The Mediterranean sun felt sensual on her breasts and her long legs. She lay back and idly watched the clouds, peopling them with imagined gods on their mysterious errands.

A motion in the sky caught her attention. There was a swan up there, flying in circles. It hadn't been there a minute ago. It was a rather large swan, and it seemed to be circling the spot where she was. Unusual for a swan, it seemed to glide through the air as if it didn't really need wings. She had the curious sensation that the bird was watching her, examining her.

"You like what you see, bird?" she said teasingly. "Here, get an eyeful, then." She took off her bra. The sun felt wonderful on her bare breasts. She lay back, propped on her elbows, her legs spread out before her.

The swan seemed to come even closer. She could hear its wings beating. She saw its black eyes watching her.

Something about the swan's fixed gaze seemed to affect her. She felt uncomfortable under it. Oddly, that made her defiant. It wanted a show, did it? She'd show it one, then. She took off her panties. She lay there, naked in the warm Mediterranean sun, staring defiantly up at the hovering bird.

Abruptly a large eagle appeared seemingly out of nowhere. It dived at the oblivious swan.

"Look out!" she shouted. She stood up and waved her hands, trying to warn the swan off. It was too late. The eagle rammed into the swan. Feathers flew in every direction. The eagle screamed. The swan was clearly hurt. It flapped its wings helplessly, trying to stay aloft. It spiraled down and hit the ground a few yards from Alida. With that, the eagle seemed satisfied, and giving a shriek of triumph, flew off.

Alida ran over to the wounded bird where it lay.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing," she said. It was, she saw, a magnificent bird. Very large for a swan, it had the softest-looking white feathers. Alida was afraid that it would misinterpret her concern and strike at her with its formidable orange bill, but it just lay there, breathing hard, looking at her.

She knelt beside the injured bird and reached out and turned it over to see what damage the eagle had done to it. The swan offered no resistance. Alida was very conscious of how soft those feathers were. Its eyes looked directly at her. They seemed remarkably intelligent, and with their intent and somehow knowing stare made her uncomfortably aware of her nakedness.

She leaned over the bird. It reared its head on its long neck and with its beak gently touched and caressed Alida's neck. At first she was startled by the action, but nonetheless pleasantly surprised at how soft and warm the beak was, how gentle its touch. She started to pull back, but something seemed to hold her there. The bird's touch was very soothing. Perhaps, she thought, somehow the swan was grateful for her attention. She let the beak caress her. She came to accept the situation and even curiously and calmly watched the head slide slowly down her front until it was resting on her breast. Its beak nestled into her cleavage. She stared down at the swan's eyes, which now seemed to be looking directly into hers, almost as if posing a question to her. She smiled down at it.

The swan moved its head slightly and gripped Alida's nipple in its beak. She was startled, but to her surprise the swan's grip was very gentle. Its tongue began to massage her nipple. Alida felt her breast swell and her nipple harden under the bird's ministrations. Her brain screamed at her that this was insane, but the beak on her breast felt extremely good, and instead of pulling back, she found herself reaching down and stroking the soft head, even encouraging it, wondering where this might go.

Abruptly the swan released its hold on her breast and reached out with one wing and covered Alida's body from her pelvis to her neck. She was startled, but Oh God, it felt so soft and warm on her stomach and breasts. Her already sensitive nipples were caressed by the softness of the swan's feathers. Gently, but with surprising strength, the swan used its wing to force Alida backward until she fell onto her back. Before she could overcome her surprise and resist, the swan held her down with its wing while it used its other wing to lever itself up onto her. Its downy breast pressed warmly and firmly against her own breasts. She could feel its heartbeat against her.

She knew she should be afraid of this wild animal, but something, perhaps the wine, or perhaps her idle dreaming about Greek myths, was acting to allay her fears. The swan did not seem to be threatening her. All its motions had been gentle, while still obviously quite powerful enough to render futile any resistance she might have tried. With no other choice, then, she decided to acquiesce to the bird long enough to see what it wanted, unless the situation became really dangerous. As her fear waned, her body became acutely aware of the very pleasant sensations she was feeling in her aroused breasts under the warm chest, and between her legs where the swan's feathers were brushing the sensitive insides of her thighs.

Cocooned by the swan's powerful wings, Alida felt strangely secure and unafraid. She somehow knew that no harm could come to her while under the bird's protection, and that its protection would last as long as she cooperated. She relaxed, comforted by the warm, soft pressure pinning her down. She even fantasized about the swan as a lover, resting atop her naked body. As she came to accept her situation, she was overcome by a strong desire to yield to the power of the great bird. Her tense muscles gradually relaxed.

The swan put its beak to Alida's mouth. Its beak was warm as it rested for a moment on her full lips. She offered no resistance. The beak caressed her lips and then probed between them, gently forcing them open, inserting itself between them. She felt the swan's warm tongue probe into her, entwining her own tongue. It felt so natural, so good.

The tongue in her mouth slowly became more insistent, demanding, reaching deeper into her. The swan used its beak and its wings around her body to hold her in place while it waggled its own body a little, getting into position atop her. As its body melded more into hers, she felt a hardness between her legs, pressing against her vagina. It was both hard and yet soft at the same time, blunt yet sculpted. It pressed insistently against her vaginal lips, spreading them, and probing slightly into her. She knew now that whatever it was, this was no ordinary swan. She knew also what was coming. But the knowledge only served to increase her arousal. Her breath became faster, more ragged. The swan's soft feathers stroked her sensitive inner thighs, urging her to spread her legs for him. She couldn't resist him any longer. She sighed deeply and relaxed, completely giving in to him, spreading her legs to give him unfettered access to her treasures.

The very act of yielding kindled her sexual desire. She reached up to encircle the swan with her arms, pulling it closer to her. Her own tongue responded to the probing of the swan's tongue, entwining it. She had unconsciously become a willing and active participant in what was clearly no longer a rape.

She felt the swan penetrate her. She was so wet, his hardness slid into her easily, with no resistance. She gave a prolonged heartfelt sigh of relief as his maleness entered her, and with that sigh, any last vestiges of fear evaporated. With him now inside her, and her will surrendered to him, she experienced a great sense of well-being, as though she were fulfilling a destiny, living a role scripted for her millennia ago. Deeper into her he went, probing her depths, stretching her soft, yielding membranes, which in turn tightly embraced his member. His soft wings enfolded her body. His tongue pushed deeper into her mouth. Her arms pulled him closer, reveling in the feeling of her taut breasts pressing into his feathered chest. She felt almost dizzy with desire, as she had never been before in her life. She could hardly breathe. She spread her legs wider, embracing the soft body of the bird atop her and removing all resistance to his advances.

He began to pump her, in and out, slowly, rhythmically. She was gasping, now, around his probing tongue. Her body was on fire. Her breasts felt as if they would burst. Her hips began to undulate, willing him to consummate their mutual desire. She placed her heels on his back and used her legs to enhance his thrusts, driving his member deeper to her.

He drove deep into her one final time and paused; their pelvises locked together. To her immense delight she felt his cock swell and pulsate as his orgasm began, followed quickly by the sudden welcome pressure of his semen inside her as he pumped his hot load into her, over and over, penetrating her womb and filling her to overflowing. She felt the swan's head pressed tightly against her neck, holding her fast even as he came in her, hearing its gasping. His powerful orgasm inside her raised her own orgasm to undreamed of heights of passion. Her vaginal muscles grasped and milked the swollen member even as it shot its load into her. Her head flew back, her mouth open, her eyes open but unseeing. The swan raised its head, its black eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as she came. She moaned, screamed, and came, hard, squirting and writhing in ecstasy. The last thing she remembered was the beautiful warm weight of sperm inside her, growing markedly with each powerful new ejaculation, spreading to fill every fold of her vagina and sending waves of unbearable pleasure coursing through her body. She fainted.

Some indeterminate time later she awoke. Her first thought was that it had all been a dream, that she had fallen asleep and had had a very erotic dream from which her body was still glowing. Experimentally, she reached down and touched her pussy. Indeed, it was wet; she had had an orgasm, all right. But wait, it wasn't just wet: there was a slippery substance leaking out from her vagina. She raised her hand and examined her fingers. They were coated with a pearly translucent material. She put her finger in her mouth and tasted it. An electric shock coursed through her body. It was semen! Good god, had some passing stranger enjoyed himself with her naked body while she slept? Is that what caused the dream?

Just then she looked around and saw a large white feather lying on the ground. It all came back to her, then, the power of his embrace, the feel of his fiery spurting inside her, the ecstasy of her own orgasm. It was no dream. Just a wonderful, wonderful miracle. She helped herself to more of the swan's semen from her vagina to confirm its reality for herself and then, her lips glistening with his semen, looked up and smiled toward the heavens, toward Olympus. She knew she had just lived through a legend and her life would be forever changed.