Ascent of the Mountain of Hedone

"I... can't... last much longer," I moaned, feeling myself coming closer to my own peak of pleasure. Suddenly her eyes widened and she grasped me by the waist, pressing her nails against my flesh and pushing me away. "Ow!" I said, my enjoyment suddenly curtailed by the painful act. "What was that for?"

She started laughing. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you that much. I just didn't want you to get there yet..." I stared at her, perplexed. She added, "Save it for a while! Until you've had a dozen or so partners, at the very least... The more you share yourself, the more blessings you supposedly receive in return from the goddess!"

I chuckled and nodded, then thanked her for the intervention. She gave me a wink, and then a kiss of gratitude for what we shared together. I watched her, grinning happily, as she wandered into the mass of vast sexual activity to seek her next partner. I soon lost sight of the woman and reassessed my surroundings.

I noticed the crowd began to thin out slightly, as visitors to the temple started to explore the rest of the complex and find other interesting places to engage their affections. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of the central orgy in the courtyard, I decided to slip away and explore for myself. I squeezed between a pair of columns and down a narrow passageway which meandered for a short time before passing a small, open gate. I stopped to look through and discovered that it led into a little meadow, carpeted with purple asphodel.

I took a few steps downward, enjoying the sensation of my bare feet against the cool, damp moss blanketing the stone steps. There I found, shaded from the heat, numerous young lesbians claiming this beautiful oasis as their own. Dozens of couples and threesomes lay together in the tall flowers, their backs dotted with crushed petals, and strewn with the juices of tiny, wild berries. There they writhed and moaned together, seeking each other's soft, red lips and slipping their hands between their parters' legs. I smiled to myself upon witnessing their delight and then continued further down the passage that had led me there.

I found countless small rooms, roofless and drenched in sunlight, where various couples had come to uncover the mysteries of each other's bodies. In every alcove, and beyond every twist and turn, I found bodies entwined, undulating, full of lust and zeal. The sounds and smells of sex filled the air and carried through the stairwells, chambers, and gardens.

Throughout the architectural maze, I found small shelves cut into the stone. These contained tall metallic vases filled with a strange, milky white alcohol, which looked more like seminal fluid than an intoxicant. Nevertheless, it was enjoyed by many, including myself. It tasted sweet and vaguely floral. There was a slightly medicinal aftertaste, which I determined was because the substance was likely intended to have an aphrodisiacal effect, greatly enhancing the invigorating effects of the alcohol itself. It left a burn as it slipped down the throat, and caused an almost instant joviality as it entered the blood stream and went screaming through the body. These cups could be found littering the floors until temple attendants strolled through, collecting them in wide baskets and returning later to replenish the supply.

Fueled by lust and drunkenness, the bacchanalia that surrounded me continued to rage on all over the place. Suddenly eager to rejoin the festivities, I ascended a set of stairs toward what appeared to be a series of turreted landings where many men and women had gathered to enjoy the view of the orgy in the courtyard below, and to further subject themselves to the pleasures of the flesh.

Almost immediately, I spotted two shy, curvy Asian women, covering their mouths and watching a couple engaged in a wild, noisy fuck. When they spotted me watching them, they grew visibly self-conscious, apparently still anxious from the complete exposure of their nude bodies in front of countless people. Naturally, this turned me on. My obvious stares made them bashful, as they blushed and exchanged looks, whispering something to each other and then giggling. Their bodies grew tense as I glanced down at their thick, dark bushes, and they squirmed, knowing that there was nowhere to hide. They both had huge boobs, with deep red, protruding nipples. The nervous laughter caused their heavy breasts to wiggle with unsteady motion, causing further embarrassment.

I approached them and attempted to make conversation, which was difficult to due their broken English. But for all the words they didn't understand, they were unquestionably familiar with the vocabulary of sex and pleasure, and made no attempt to hide the reason they were there. To my surprise, they eagerly accepted my propositions, nervousness notwithstanding, and led me to a corner that we could claim for ourselves.

There was a beautiful transformation, as the two friends rapidly explored my body, driven by a powerful, erotic curiosity. They were soon laughing and speaking quickly in a language I did not understand, perhaps sharing their thoughts about this strange, naked, Western man, whose body they suddenly had all to themselves. I saw all shame and fear vanish as we thrust ourselves into a fit of desire. The young women sat facing one another, one sitting on my face, allowing me to tunnel my tongue through her wild bush to penetrate her pink hole, while the other enthusiastically rode my cock, letting her massive breasts heave and swing like pendulums in front of her friend.

I fucked each one in succession like this, then bent them over and took them from behind, enjoying the sensational wobble of their thick, round asses cushioning the blows as my pelvis thundered against them. They cried out, as if in pain, a brief misunderstanding on my part, as they expressed disappointment if I stopped or slowed down. Our fucking became increasingly wild and aggressive as I observed how fiercely they wanted it. Soon they were on their backs, side by side, squealing with pleasure as I took turns with one and then the other, grasping at their soft, bulging boobs as I drove my cock through the dark mass of hair between their legs, dripping with fluid secretions.

I turned through a kaleidoscope of bodies like this, one or two at a time, tasting, smelling, and feeling such a diversity of human sexuality that after I while I no longer knew how to fully process the experience of communal pleasure.

After several more encounters, I became enamored with a beautiful Indian woman from England. Her long, black hair was twisted into a single braid that ran the length of her back. Her even, medium brown complexion grew slightly lighter around her petite breasts, which were tipped with darker, chocolate brown nipples. Her pussy was just lightly covered with a patch of dark stubble, granting full view of her luscious outer lips. We talked for a bit, as she sheepishly fondled my penis, hiding her arousal behind a thin veil of shyness, and I caressed her breasts. Finally, she grew bold enough to lean down and take me in her mouth, sucking me with the delight of someone eager to perform an act totally out of character with a conservative persona typically assigned to her.

I hoisted her into my arms and she sat on my lap, thrilled by the sensation of my cock penetrating her slick, tight pussy. There she rocked her hips back and forth, gazing into my eyes with a blissful smile. Together we made slow, sensual love, deeply connected to one another, drunk on each other's erotic scent of arousal, and desperately eager to remain as long as possible in this rhythmic state of mutual intoxication. After some time she began to cry out, and I felt the tremor of her multiple spasms as I continued to plunge myself through her liquid depths. I badly wanted to let go and join her in a mutual release of the sexual tension that had been building for hours, but the words of the woman in the courtyard haunted me, and I knew how many more lovers were surely on the way. She threw herself upon me, aching with pleasure, and clutching my arms with desperate pressure. Finally, she collapsed on my chest, as if never wanting to leave it.

Never before was it so hard to leave a lover...

But there were many other encounters, more casual and unbothered. For example, a woman from Belfast offered me a swig of the intoxicant I had discovered earlier, before gulping some down herself.

"I'm fucking langered as shite," she exclaimed, with a laugh.

"Me too", I said, understanding the gist of her remark.

"American?" she asked. I nodded.

"How did you guess?" I said, jokingly, knowing that my accent surely gave it away.

"The cock," she said with a smirk. I laughed. "Not quite as massive as an Italian's, but right clean on, in'it!"

"I don't know what that means, but I'll take it!" I chuckled. We shared another few gulps of the sweet liquor. She reached down and began massaging my penis, bringing it to full staff. I added, "I can't believe how many people are here, from so many places."

She replied, "I just fucked a fine bloke from Uppsala who'd been gawking at my diddies-- Uppsala! I barely even know where that is!" We laughed and moved effortlessly into an energetic fuck ourselves, surrounded by a semi-circle of onlookers, enjoying the sight of her perky, bouncing tits as she received greedy blows from my massive cock. Before long, I got my first surprise move of the day, as she jammed a finger right up my 'arse' as she'd say.

As the day wore on, late into the afternoon, I found myself increasingly exhausted from the constant stream of pleasure assaulting my senses. I began to temporarily reach my limit around the time I met a lovely young African woman who, with a little difficulty, explained that she was living in Paris where she attended university. Her boobs were impressively pointed and swung in circles, slapping together when they met in the middle, as she rather comically exclaimed, "Ah! Ah! S'il vous plaît!" while joyfully riding me.

I felt I could barely move anymore, and my body began to cramp, so I decided to seek a quiet place of refuge from the madness... at least until I had sufficiently recovered and renewed my thirst for my next lover. I slipped down a back stairway and soon found myself lost once again, roaming through the labyrinth on a high, inhaling the sweet island air, and shielding my eyes from the deep orange light that streaked through the ruins from the low afternoon sun.

I found my way into a small, walled garden near the base of the tower, at the center of which a mammoth statue of Aphrodite triumphantly stood. Numerous flowers were littered about her feet; some fresh, some left wilting from days passed. Temple visitors had left other objects, notably coins, as well as tiny, folded notes, tucked between the goddess' toes. I opted not to read any, understanding that they may have been left by some tormented youth anguishing about an unrequited love, who deserved the respect and privacy that he or she expected after addressing the goddess to ask for a favor.

A long stone bench proved to be the perfect respite for a weary reveler such as myself, and I stayed there for some time, watching the occasional pair of lovers stroll through, hand in hand, enjoying the sensation of the breeze upon their nude bodies, in their post-coital bliss. After a while, I rose and stretched, believing that I might be ready to return to the festivities and discover what new pleasures the evening would bring. However, I first advanced toward the statue of Aphrodite and, having nothing in hand to offer her, I instead offered her a small kiss upon the hand, which was gently outstretched as if welcoming her devotees.

As I did this, I felt a strange tingle down my spine, and the fine hairs rose on my neck. I felt as if eyes were upon me and turned around, but saw that I was still alone. For some reason, I happened to look up. There, several stories up above the garden, I spotted a pair of green eyes gazing down at me from a darkened window. A figure moved slowly forward, until her face was just lit by the sunlight. To my surprise, I found myself staring straight at the high priestess, who had earlier directed the festivities in the courtyard. She narrowed her eyes at me, smiled briefly, and then gestured to someone behind her. A second figure vaguely emerged, and then the priestess pointed at me.

I panicked, thinking that I had somehow managed to desecrate this holy place by daring to make contact with the idol I just laid my lips upon. Quickly, I fled from the garden, my heart racing, expecting that I might be able to vanish into the crowds and forget all about the mistake. After a series of twists and turns, I approached a sizable crowd and began to feel some relief, when I heard a sudden patter of feet behind me.

"Hey! Wait!" a voice cried out.

I turned and glanced over my shoulder and, surprised at what I saw, slowly came to a halt and turned around. Melitta was running after me with a grin, as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Wait! Wait!" she kept repeating. When she reached me, she stopped by my side, bent in half, and began huffing and puffing. "Your speed is matched by only Atalanta herself," she giggled, struggling to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry!" I blurted out, "I didn't mean to offend the priestess."

Melitta raised an eyebrow and looked up at me curious, then finally stood up, giggling. "What are you talking about?" she said. "The priestess looks upon you with favor, for your offering to Aphrodite."

"She does?" I said, surprised.

"Yes-- in fact... you've been chosen!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together with satisfaction.

"Chosen for what?" I asked.

"For the most sacred rite of the festival! You will experience a union with the goddess Hedone herself!"

The young woman stared at me with much excitement and pride, but I could only offer her a dumbfounded look in return, having absolutely no idea what she was talking about, or how it was possible for a man to have sex with a goddess.

"Let's go! We must get you ready!" she said, grabbing my arm and tugging me forward.

Bewildered, I began to ask Melitta a series of questions. I discovered that she was from a tiny village on an island not far from this one. There was only one profession in her village; making wine. It was peaceful, for if they did not get along with their neighbors they'd be unable to obtain lamb meat from those to the north, or fresh vegetables grown to the south. When she turned eighteen, she gave her sacred oath to the goddess Hedone, wishing to devote herself to the mysteries of Her ancient tradition. She left her family, and spent the next three years learning its sacred practices and teachings.

As we passed a number of small chambers, which I had previously explored, I asked, "What are all these rooms for?"

"Oh! Those are for divine coupling," she explained. Melitta stopped briefly and raised her finger in the air, declaring, "Someday, when I marry, I will be able to take any man I desire to such a room, in order to bed him, regardless of my marriage vows. And he may do the same with any woman."

"Really?"

"Yes. This is the only place it is officially sanctioned, because the goddess allows it, provided a monetary offering is made first." She explained this with pride, as if she were already making plans for sacred adultery long in advance. I smiled and felt a certain pride myself in the fact that this young woman was equally capable, in this society, to embrace her own sexual freedoms as was any man. At least provided it was done the official way.

In fact, she went on to explain, "There are very few acts that cannot be performed in these rooms. Many people come from all over to honor the goddess with styles of love that they would be ashamed of in their own homes. In the goddess' eyes, we are all her children; crafted for physical love in all its many forms and according to every preference or taste. There are few taboos here; there need be no consideration of gender, family relation, sexuality, or race, because at the time of union the goddess enters the body of one's lover, and becomes their true partner. You may be with whomever you like, whenever you like, in accordance with the wishes and pleasures of Hedone herself."

I was shocked to hear this. Never before had I heard of such a place that was so permissive of sexual acts, including things I couldn't fathom ever doing myself. I thought to myself, "And the hippies thought that they invented free love..."

Melitta giggled, "The things that I have seen-- with my own eyes!" She then added, "Anyway... they say that a pleasure left unexplored saddens the goddess."

"You said there were few acts that cannot be performed, which are those?" I asked, my jaw still agape.

Melitta laughed and said, "We mustn't speak of those things now. Come!"

She hurried up a small flight of stairs, then another, and then another. Higher and higher we ascended the series of stairways leading up the mountainside until finally arriving upon a door of particular significance. She knocked three times and the door opened. Another female attendant stepped aside to welcome us in, and I continued to follow Melitta to a small antechamber at the end of a long hallway.

I was fascinated by the strength of Melitta's conviction in the local beliefs of this place of worship. "Is this how I am to make love to the goddess then?" I asked. "She will inhabit the body of my partner?"

"Yes-- the priestess herself!" she replied.

I stopped short. "You mean, I'm to have sex with the high priestess?"

"Well, her bodily form, yes."

Melitta removed a spindly glass vial from an ornate chest and opened it, then began to slather the substance inside all over my body. Her breasts danced about excitedly as she rubbed her hands back and forth across my chest and over my muscles. My nostrils filled with the distinct odors of sandalwood and musk.

"We must make you as desirable as possible for the goddess, so that she may receive the best possible offering," she giggled.

"Offering?" I asked. She was too preoccupied to hear.

"The high priestess is already anointed with paints and rare perfumes," she sighed wistfully. "Do you know where from? There is a particular wildflower that smells more wonderful than anything you can imagine. It grows in only one place in the world; an island far from here. You will only find fishermen there, whose families have lived there for centuries. Near the top of the island's only mountain, in a small valley that's almost inaccessible due to the rocky landscape, it must be harvested by only a small handful of men who know where and how to get it. Their lives are occasionally claimed in the process..."

Melitta continued to chatter excitedly as she prepared my body, telling me more stories about the priestess, infused with a mixture of awe and jealousy. I began to feel intimated as my understanding of the priestess' significance grew. At the same time, I was becoming fascinated at what I heard of her talents and feeling lucky that I alone had been chosen to be the recipient of this great honor.

Finally the time had come, and I was to be welcomed into the priestess' private bedchamber where her transformation would be complete and my sacred union with the goddess would begin. Not knowing what to expect, the butterflies began to form in my stomach. Melitta excitedly grasped my hand and led me down another long passage until we reached a large set of ornate doors flanked with two guards. They granted us entry, pushing the set of doors open and gesturing to us to enter.

As we stepped inside, I was taken aback by the incredible store of riches that could be found inside. Expensive fabrics and pillows lay draped across assorted ornate pieces of furniture from across the globe, each seemingly designed for lounging in various ways. From the wall hung intricately woven, imported textiles, colorful paintings of explicit, erotic scenes from antiquity in gilded frames, and dozens upon dozens of unique mirrors. Numerous accent chests and credenzas were strategically placed about the room and laden with fine jewelry and rare perfumes. Tables were bursting with baskets of flowers and exotic fruits. Large bay windows, overlooking the temple complex and the ocean beyond, were cracked open and let through the passing breeze.