An Island in a Wine Dark Sea Ch. 02

You may wish to read the prequel to this story, "Making Love on an Island in a Wine Dark Sea" which tells of Maggie's previous adventures on a Greek island.

Before Rory left her alone in a hotel room on Skiathos, he told her that he had a friend on the island of Skopelos.

"Actually, he's my boss. A professor of archaeology and a nice, gentle guy. I'll call him and see if he has time to show you around Skopelos."

Maggie was gushing tears -- her idyllic twenty-four hour love affair with Rory at an end as he had to go back to Australia. "I don't know," she wailed. "I'm sorry I'm crying. It's so silly. What will he think? A woman just showing up to see him?"

"He'll think you're cool. Cause I'll tell him. Indulge yourself. You're not in Kansas anymore -- and your preacher husband is a long way away."

Rory made the telephone call. "Okay," he said when he hung up. "You can catch the one p.m. ferry and you'll be there about two. He'll meet you at the ferry landing and take you to lunch. He's tall and skinny, brown hair, 40 years old, and always smiling."

After Rory left, Maggie dried her tears and packed her bags. She dressed in shorts, sandals, and a bikini top which she covered it with a sheer white blouse that she tied under her breasts. For her it was a revealing outfit. She checked out of the hotel, and walked with determination to the ferry landing a few blocks away. "Five days left on my vacation," she said to herself. "I must move along. Goodbye, Rory. Hello, who knows what."

***

As Rory had promised, a tall, slender man with an unruly thatch of brown hair and a toothy smile was waiting for her at the ferry landing on Skopelos. He had an ugly, but appealing face, and a clumsy, puppy-dog, eager to please demeanor.

"You're Sheila?" he asked. Rory had given her that name. In the lotus land of the Greek Islands, real names were not used. He shook her hand, "I'm Charles."

"I'm sorry to impose on you," she answered.

"Oh, that's fine. We only work at the dig in the mornings. It's too hot in the afternoons. Would you like to have lunch? Rory said you like octopus and beer. I know a place." Like Rory, he was Australian.

She agreed. He picked up her suitcase as if it were empty and they walked together up a cobbled street overhung by blooming bougainvillea and geraniums in pots and flanked by low blue-and-white stone buildings, The restaurant had rough, wooden, outside tables shaded by a grape arbor. Skopelos, she thought, oozed charm and rustic appeal.

Charles was the confiding sort and the two of them talked for a long time over beer, grilled octopus, and a cucumber and tomato salad. Charles was married with a wife and child back in Australia. He came to Greece in summers to excavate the sparse remains of the pre-historic inhabitants of the Greek Islands. Rory had been his assistant on the dig.

Maggie told him that she had been married for 17 years to a conservative, evangelical preacher, lived in a small town in Kansas, had two teen age children, and was a self-employed accountant, managing her own small business.

"Goodness," he said, "you don't look old enough to have teen-age children."

"I'm 37 years old," she answered, "and until this trip I had never been more than a few hundred miles from home. So, this is all new to me." She looked around. "Like a dream of paradise." She added, "I should be looking for a hotel."

"I have a small house on a beautiful beach. It has an extra bedroom which is yours if you want it. No obligation." He smiled at her. "Honestly."

She thought about the offer, calculating the risk and balancing it against the money she would save by not staying in a hotel. "Always the practical accountant, balancing costs and benefits," she thought to herself wryly. She looked at Charles. He seemed so unthreatening. "That would be nice -- but only if I pay for lunch." Best not to be too indebted to him.

"That's a deal," he answered. "I have a jeep parked at the ferry landing and my house is only a short distance. Let's go."

"I didn't go to the beach on Skiathos." she said. "Except that Rory and I were on the beach at night." She giggled and wiped away a tear.

"I understand," Charles said with a smile.

***

Charles parked on the dirt road in front of a small, weathered house. "This is home," he said. Inside was a combination living room and kitchen in the center opening at each end to a bedroom. "The bathroom is there," he said, pointing to near the front door. "Let's go onto the deck so you can see the view." They stepped out through a double-width glass door onto a wooden deck.

Maggie breathed in sharply. "This is incredible," she said. The deck overlooked an exquisite circular bay of deep blue water, rimmed by a narrow white sand beach. At its narrow mouth were rocky cliffs with caves carved into them by the white-topped waves of the Aegean Sea. The bay was not much bigger than a football field and on the sandy bluffs surrounding it were about ten houses, each with a deck overlooking the bay and shaded by tall, thin pine trees. A stairway led down to the beach from the deck.

"Would you like a swim?" asked Charles.

"I would indeed. I'll change into my bathing suit."

Charles paused. "Ahhh....most of us here don't put on swimwear."

She turned to look at him. "You go nude?"

"Yes. But if that makes you uncomfortable, I can put on togs."

"I've never been nude." She was flustered. "I mean not nude on a beach or in public. And I'm white. My body is white. I'll look like a ghost," she added.

"It's okay. I understand. Let's put on our swimwear."

She thought a moment. In her mind she had prepared herself to appear topless on an island beach, as so many women did. Why be falsely modest? She liked Charles. She was looking for color in the grayness of her life. Why not go naked on the beach? "Let's go nude," she said with determination. .

"It's a very private beach," he reassured her. "The sun is low in the sky. You won't get sunburned. And your body will look better than most. Believe me."

Maggie retired to her bedroom. She took off her blouse and bikini top, then her shorts and panties. She stood naked. There was only a small mirror in the room and she could not see what she looked like. She sighed with resignation and stepped cautiously out of the room .

Charles was on the deck, facing outward, his bare buttocks shining in the light. She advanced onto the deck, resisting the urge to cover her pubic area with her hands. He turned to greet her and put his hands on her shoulders to look at her. "You're beautiful. You'll be the hit of the neighborhood."

She lowered her eyes to his crotch. He was enormous! Like a floppy sausage, his flaccid penis hung halfway to his knees, and his scrotum hung nearly as low. And it was bare of hair, shaved clean, which made it look even bigger. She averted her eyes quickly, looking at his face. "Yes," he said, smiling with a grimace. "I've been told it's rather larger than the ordinary. But it doesn't bite."

She giggled like an embarrassed schoolgirl. He picked up a bag containing a blanket and towels, and the two of them, hand in hand, walked down the stairs onto the sandy beach. Charles picked a spot not far from the water and laid down the blanket on the sand. "Would you like to go into the water? Can you swim?"

"I would love to go into the water and, yes, I can swim."

They ran into the water together, splashing in the gentle waves of the sea.. "Let's swim to those cliffs and explore the caves," he said. They swam side by side. As they approached the cliffs he said, "Feel for the bottom with your feet, but be careful not to hurt yourself on the rocks. They're sharp." He found a rock beneath the water with his feet and stood on it, pulling her up to join him. She put her arms around him for support, her breasts pressed against his chest.

"It's beautiful," she said, looking into a cave. The water in the darkening caves was a brilliant transparent green, the waves lapping over black rocks just below the surface.

Charles stepped off the rock into water up to his neck, and she followed him, putting her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist as he carried her into the cave. In the blackness of the cave, the sun shimmering on the water a few yards away, he sat on a rock and she sat down on his lap, feeling his penis stiffen against her buttocks.

She turned her face upward and looked into his eyes and he kissed her, a long lingering kiss, gentle rather than insistent. "Oh, God, forgive me. I am going to give myself to this man."

"Are you ready to go back to the beach?" he asked.

"I'm ready. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's a special place." He stepped off the rock into the deeper water and she clung to him as he carried her out of the cave and through the rocks and into the open water of the cove. They swam to the shore. Several other people, all naked, were now on the beach. The light from the descending sun made the sky glow.

They walked to their blanket on the sand and she laid down on her back and he laid beside her and turned to her and they kissed again, his leg overlapping hers, and his hardened penis probing her crotch.

She broke off the kiss and looked around apprehensively. A couple was lying on the sand about fifty feet away. A middle-aged woman with a fat belly and pendulous breasts walked by at the edge of the water a few feet away.

"Should we be doing this here?" she asked.

"We can go to the house if you wish. But sex on the beach is pretty common around here." He lowered his head to kiss her breasts.

"Thank you, but we need to use a condom."

He laughed. "I happen to have one in my bag. Two, just in case."

"Are you sure we're not going to offend that couple over there." She looked over at the tall, blond couple.

He laughed again. "Hardly. They've had sex with everyone in the neighborhood." He waved at the couple and shouted. "Hi, Oscar. Hi, Alicia."

They called back, "Hi, Charles. Who's the new girl?"

"Her name is Sheila. She's an American."

"Hi, Sheila. Welcome."

He kissed her again, his mouth went to her breasts. "You have the most wonderful tits. Firm and pointy nipples."

"Compliments will get you everything," she said with a laugh. His hand found her vagina. "Careful, please. I'm a little sore. I had sex with Rory only eight hours ago. I am going to hell!".

"Do you want to do this?" he asked politely. I can do you with my mouth if its going to hurt you."

"No, I want you to fuck me. There. She had said it.

She laid back and relaxed as he probed within her. "I can't believe I'm here," she thought. "This is a dream. I'm on a beach and a guy I barely know and who has a dick that is scary is about to fuck me. For the first time in my life I have no obligation to be prim and proper " Her natural reserve had been erased by grilled octopus, beer, nudity, a nice man, and the romance of a beach on a wine dark sea

"Is something wrong?" Charles asked. "You've gone away."

"No," she answered, kissing his cheek. "I was just thinking. My sex life has been so bland, so black and white. And suddenly with you -- and Rory. I'm on a beautiful island, and everything is suddenly in vivid colors. I'm not in Kansas anymore. Free at last. Oh, God, I'm so happy! Fuck me now."

"With pleasure." He reached into his bag, found the condom, handed it to her, and said, "Do you want to put it on me?"

She took the condom from him, sat up, bit off the corner of the package, took it out and unrolled it. He laid on his back, his penis sticking straight up in the air. "It's ten inches long." She rolled the condom down around his penis. "You're ready," she said with a nervous giggle.

"More than ready."

"But slowly, carefully, please."

"You're a little afraid of my cock, aren't you? "

She laughed. "Yes. I've never seen one that big. Not that I've seen many."

"It will fit. My wife is smaller than you."

"Does she suspect that you might be on a beach with another woman?"

"Yes. She was here last summer, so she knows the situation. And, she....uh...participated."

"I don't think my husband has a clue."

"Do you have a good sex life?"

"No. I mean he fucks me every night, but it lasts about two minutes -- and sometimes I cum, but its all very routine. He relieves himself. That's all. He never asks whether I enjoy it or not. Please last more than two minutes."

"I'll fuck you all night long. Starting now." He took his penis in his hand and rolled over on top of her, his hand guiding it into her vagina. "Slowly, slowly, slowly, as you requested."

"Keep going. I'm wet. And ready. Oh, God, am I ready!" She wrapped her legs around his abdomen and raised her hips to facilitate his passage.

"I'm in."

"Oh, my! It fit. I am relieved." They laughed together. He began to stroke back and forth, slowly at first, then more quickly."

"I have to stop for a moment. Or I won't last more than two minutes. How does my cock feel? Is it different?"

"It feels tight. Which is nice. And the tip of it is rubbing against something. I don't know what. I'm not well informed about female anatomy."

"You're funny. I like that. I like to fuck you."

"I don't think I'm going to have any problem climaxing. I'm almost there."

"Oscar is waving at you."

She had almost forgotten about the couple on the beach about 20 steps away. She glanced in that direction. Oscar was lying on his back. Alicia was crouched over him, her head between his legs, her mouth circling his penis. Oscar waved at her. She waved back.

"Time to finish this off?" asked Charles.

"Oh, yes, please."

"Let's cum as the sun slips below the horizon."

"I read somewhere that there's a green flash just as the sun goes out of sight."

"Do you always talk this much?"

"Actually, no. I'm usually scared and self-conscious. With men other than my husband."

"There have been others?"

"A few. Four to be exact. Well, five counting Rory. And now you're six. But all in the last couple of years. I was almost a virgin when I got married, and I never fucked anybody but my husband until recently."

"Almost a virgin?"

"My boy friend in high school stuck his dick in me. I made him pull it out. I don't know whether than counts as losing my virginity or not."

"A philosophical question worth of a sage," he responded. "Okay, the sun has almost disappeared. Let's do it together." He began to pump quickly and she locked her legs around his stomach, rocking her hips back and forth in rhythm with him.

"I'm cumming, cumming, I'm cumming! Harder."

"Me too. Now. Together." She felt the weight and size of his penis, as it penetrated her in long, strong strokes, in and out, and she shuddered from the intensity of the climax.

He relaxed, letting the weight of his body rest on hers. "Whew! That was good." He laid quietly and she felt his penis shrink inside her, and he put his hand in her crotch and pulled it out of her, rolled over and stripped the condom off.

"That's a lot of cum," she said, looking at the condom. "Does a big dick produce more cum?"

"I don't know. We can research that in the encyclopedia." He kissed her on the cheek. "You are a lot of fun. Your husband is a lucky man."

"He is a fucking moron. Not a bad man, and I suppose I love him in a way, but my life has not been....fulfilled. "

"Why not leave him for someone more....fulfilling?"

"Maybe I will -- when my children get a little older. In the meantime, I want to drink beer and eat octopus and have sex with you. With men. Especially men with big dicks. Ha, ha."

"I'll write a letter of recommendation, citing the quality of sex with you." He thought a moment. "But finding octopus in Kansas may be a problem.."

They laid side by side on the blanket, sweat running down their chests. She felt comfortable and contended.

"May we join you?" It was Oscar speaking. He and Alicia were standing over them. Alicia was three or four inches taller than Maggie and more curvaceous with blond hair cascading over her shoulders, hiding her nipples. Oscar was also tall, blond, slender, handsome. Both of them were shaved in their public areas.

"Oscar and Alicia are from Sweden," Charles explained as the couple laid out a blanket next to theirs. "They've been here almost a month."

"We're schoolteachers," Alicia said. "On holiday for summer. We have a son. He's staying with his grandparents." She spoke a stilted, grammatical, accented English. She sat down beside Maggie.

They chatted amiably. "I can't believe," Maggie thought, "I'm sitting on a beach naked, having just had sex with a man not my husband, having had sex with two men I barely know in the same day, and talking to a woman who I just watched giving her husband a blow job. I wonder if she fucks other men?"

That question was soon answered. "How did you meet Charles?"

Alicia asked.

"I met his friend, Rory, on Skiathos. Rory was going back to Australia, so he asked Charles to show me around Skopelos. And here I am."

"Oh, yes, Rory," said Alicia. "We all love Rory. Loved Rory."

"All?"

"I -- and the fat Englishwoman who was walking on the beach. I'm sorry. It is cruel to say that. She is not fat, but that is what we call her. She loved Rory. And now she loves my husband."

"My husband," she continued with a smile, "is a little jealous. I had Rory and Charles and he has only the fat Englishwoman. But now you are here."

"So she has fucked both Rory and Charles. Is she hinting I should fuck her husband?" asked Maggie to herself.

"You fucked Rory?" Alicia asked.

After a momentary pause, Maggie answered. "Yes."

"He is good, is he not? And Charles is..."

"Large." They laughed together.

"We must go," said Alicia, standing up and beckoning to Oscar. "The fat Englishwoman is coming for dinner and I will sleep alone. It is okay. I need a rest. It was very pleasant to meet you. Goodbye, Charles"

After the two of them left, Charles rolled up their blanket and stuffed their towels in his shoulder bag and the two walked, arm in arm, away from the sea and toward his house.

"Does everybody here shave their public area," Maggie asked.

Charles laughed. "Most people do. It's symbolic. It shows that you are completely nude -- and have nothing to hide."

"I'd like to shave."

"I'll do it for you, if you wish. I'm an archaeologist. We're accustomed to doing delicate work," he joked. "But won't your husband notice when you get home?"

"He never looks at me. And it will grow back quickly. Won't it?"

"It'll take a month."

"I can hide it from him."

"Okay, tell me when you're ready. First, some food and another beer?"

They sat together at the kitchen table eating and drinking. Neither of them bothered to put on clothes. It was hot in the house. There was no air conditioning and a mild, warm wind came in through the open door.

"I'm ready. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"Absolutely. Pussy shaving is a job for an expert."

"Groan."

He led her into her bedroom and spread a towel on the bed. "Lie down, my dear Sheila, and spread your legs. I'll get a razor." He went into the bathroom and came out a moment later, safety razor in hand.

"Be careful with that thing," Maggie said.

"Have no fears. Wider. Spread your legs wider." He crouched on the floor between her outspread legs. He felt her pubic hair. "Hmm....maybe some olive oil to soften the hair." He left and returned with a squeeze bottle of oil. He sprayed some oil on his hand and began to rub it into her hair and skin.

"You use olive oil for everything here, don't you? she said. "Rory put some on my tits. He said they were dry." She felt her breasts. "Oh, they are dry. And my nipples are cracking."