Eros was a Greek

Sophie was clearly taken aback.

"No wonder you wanted to come back: it's simply magnificent."

"We're going to swim, so we must find swimsuits and towels and then we'll set off. There's now a fairly good path down. We should have some fruit and water before we go down."

With slight difficulty we found the bathing stuff, had our drink of water, and began walking the path down munching fresh peaches. When we got to the beach I explained my plan.

"We'll put on our bathing costumes, and then get in the water from the beach and swim to the rocks over there. When we get there, we take the costumes off and leave them on the rocks. If someone comes we can swim over and get them and put them back on before emerging. In the meantime we enjoy the skinny dip."

Sophie was looking at me with bemusement but started undressing straight away. She looked up and around and seeing no-one took off her bra and knickers. I was pretty impressed I have to say: the 56-year-old flesh was smooth, firm and certainly not excessive to any requirements I could think of. Her one-piece bathing costume had plenty of cut-outs, so the skin was still dominating the black and white fabric.

"I'm not sure how easy this will be to get off in the water, but I'll give it a good try. I haven't skinny-dipped for years."

I was probably too old for speedos, but my version is not too revealing -- certainly a lot more than a pouch.

We were in the water now, and it was sensuously refreshing but not chilling. We waded out and started swimming to the rocks on the east side of the cove. We found a spot where we could just stand up to take our gear off. I helped Sophie with the shoulder straps. We stood there for a few moments, our naked bodies embracing, then swam gently out into the middle of the bay. I floated on my back; it was heavenly. I was in two metres of water and could clearly see the bottom.

Sophie was obviously a stronger swimmer than me and she had struck out across to the jetty on the other side, before turning and making it back to me.

"Follow me back to where our clothes are" I said.

"Why, have you seen someone coming?"

"No, but I need to be able to stand up."

In a few moment s we were standing again and again embraced. This time I felt sure she would notice my growing erection.

"Oh my! I had begun to think I might never feel this again. The water makes it all the better, and I can touch and move him about as if he was swimming himself. He feels lovely."

Time to let my hands explore, it seemed. I started with the nipples, gently rolling, squeezing and nipping until her movements let me know her response. I ran my hand down her back, causing a stream of water to flow over her buttocks. She put her head on my shoulder.

"Again, please."

I repeated, and this time let my hands fall to the buttocks, which I smoothed, then scratched, then grabbed handfuls, using the grip to pull her towards me.

"Oh yes! Please grab my vulva now and see what you can make of that."

I left one hand behind, and with the other slid down the front. She shifted her position to open her legs and allow my hand to explore all the soft silkiness it discovered. A finger of that hand found the opening between the lips, and another finger found the little bud above and said hello to it. Round behind, a finger was busy there too, circling the puckered orifice deep in the cleft.

Time passed.

"Please will you fuck me... please..." she gasped.

"Lift up one leg so I can grab you under the thigh. Now the other one. Hands round my neck. There might be a bit of fumbling... but here goes."

It wasn't as difficult as I'd supposed. In fact I slipped in quite easily. The test was coming now: movement in and out of her depended entirely on the strength of my lower back and glute muscles. The water helped, of course, but even so it was quite a challenge for a sixty-year-old. The noises coming from Sophie were encouraging.

"Oh darling man, thank you. Ohhhh. Ahhhhhh! Dig deep angel, make my cunt sing again. Yes, like that."

I kept up my exertions for a few more minutes.

Then there was a slightly muted scream, a wriggling of her body, her mouth clamped to mine before I climaxed with a great explosion of breath and a sigh.

She hung back from my neck and looked me in the eyes. Smiling "wonderful".

We disengaged. My hands were still all over her body, and I was being tweaked and cosseted, rubbed and squeezed. It did definitely seem like the long wait was over.

We grabbed our costumes and pulled them on. I floated off on my back and she followed with a long and elegant breaststroke. We got back to the beach, towelled off and dressed.

Walking back up the sloping path, arms around each other, she said: "I'm 56 and you're getting me doing things I've never done before."

"Such as?"

"Fucking a bloke I've known for less than 48 hours; making love in the sea; agreeing to go on a road-trip barely knowing him..."

"...fucking a guy who's over 60?"

"Are you really?"

"Only just." I replied, "I think we both came on this holiday hoping that it would lead to new things, didn't we?"

"I'm sure you're right. But it was obviously a deity of some sort who put you in my way, so I could hardly have expected it."

Around the lake that we had skirted on our way, called Limni Vouliagmenis, there were a few tavernas, and we picked one from a guidebook and had a pleasant fish meal lakeside. We were quieter than we had been. I suppose we were absorbing the implications of what we were doing.

"I promised to try to make this an unforgettable day; how are we doing?" I asked hopefully. It had certainly been spectacular for me.

"Succeeded already. I think this place itself is unforgettable, and what has happened here has added real magic. It has made me impatient to get to know your body and have some playtime to learn about each other. But this was a fabulous start! Thank you"

Cue for a big hug.

"I'll try to find this apartment you've booked on the sat-nav," as we disengaged. "Will you drive this time? By the way, we haven't discussed driving. Are you finding my driving tolerable?"

"Yes, it's fine -- not too fast or too slow. Good concentration. Can't ask much more."

*

We did find the apartment, without too much trouble, and decided to unload most of our stuff as we had to leave the car in a public carpark. The flat was in a lovely part of the old town, and from the windows we could survey the terracotta roofscape and the glinting blue sea beyond.

We found a supermarket nearby and bought some bread, wine, coffee, jam, cheese and a few other things. The flat itself was spectacular in a reserved way. It was very spacious, having been created from an old house which had large rooms. Fortunately, whoever converted it had not felt the need to chop it up with new partitions. And it was furnished with nice things, some old and some new. When we had unpacked what we needed, I did something I've never done before and took off all my clothes and put on a dressing gown that was provided. Seeing what I'd done Sophie followed suit.

"Shall we eat then shower or vice versa?" I asked.

"I'll shower now because I think I should give my vagina a good sluicing. Salt water is not specially good for mucus membranes, and I want herself to be in tip-top condition now."

"Can't quarrel with any of that. There is actually a shower room and a bathroom. Take your pick and I'll use the other."

We showered and bathed and put on our gowns again, put together a small supper and sat down with a glass of wine to eat.

"You made a great choice of accommodation. It's real luxury. Have you spent many holidays 'self-catering'?" I asked.

"When the girls were growing-up we did it all the time. Martin and I had jobs that gave us long summer holidays, and we used to take a house for three weeks, sometimes in Cornwall, and sometimes in East Anglia. We had a small sailing dinghy which we all loved and could tow to our favoured bit of water. What about you?"

"Because we lived in a rural area, the children liked to spend some time in London. We used to do a house swap with friends who had a house in Wandsworth. The boys liked to watch some cricket, and Liz and Diana were not unusual in trailing round endless shops, which changed slightly as Liz got older. And of course we visited the sights: Tussauds, London Dungeon, Natural History Museum and Battersea Park, and did river trips and ate at exciting places like The River Café."

"So no seaside stuff?" Sophie asked.

"Oh yes. We live within an hour or two of some of the best surfing beaches in Europe, and we all had a go at one time or another."

We were sitting chatting having consumed our food and drink. It was important that we continued to get to know each other because this really didn't feel like an extended one-night-stand. Still the undercurrent was that what we'd really like to do was consume each other, in a non-cannibalistic way.

Eventually I got up and took her hand and led her to the sofa and sat her down. I knelt in front of her and opened her robe. Her breasts were still shapely, and the milk chocolate-coloured nipples were inviting me to sample them. They fitted so neatly between my lips, and my tongue was a happy taster. My hands could give moral and physical support. In fact we were all happy with this little feast: I felt stirrings, she evidently felt stirring, and the nipples were sitting bolt upright with pleasure.

"How long do we need to have known each other before we can declare adoration?" I asked.

"About 50 hours I should think."

"I adore you."

I rested my head on her, and she put her hands through my hair and held on.

"Darling man do you think this might be a good time to try the bed? I'd really like to shed this gown, and I would much prefer you without one," was her response to my declaration.

"I agree with all of that," I replied, and I stood up and shed the gown, held out a hand to her and pulled her to her feet. Now I could slip the gown from her shoulders and throw it on the sofa. We now stood naked together and couldn't really avoid embracing. Why would we want to? Our hands could wander over warm, soft, bare flesh and surely there is no more exciting and reassuring feeling?

"I think that I should hold on to this to avoid it getting damaged," Sophie said, taking hold of the protrusion which had appeared at the base of my tummy. This was the handle by which she steered me towards the bedroom. As this meant she had to walk slightly in front of me I was able stroke a buttock and delicately explore the cleft.

We spent the next hour on the bed. It felt right that this should be a leisurely and tender coming together. Our saltwater fuck had been a raunchy statement of lust in a beautiful and exciting environment: now seemed the moment for our bodies to seal a bond of affection, and that demanded less urgency.

I wanted to explore Sophie's body to discover its uniqueness, and to understand how to play music with its parts. So I first lay her on her tummy, to admire her lovely bottom, and to massage her neck and shoulders and ease out any tensions. I spent a few minutes digging in my fingers and smoothing away any tightness. I ran my hands down either side of her spine, then resumed the massage, this time with her buttocks. On down the strong, firm thighs, the well-muscled calves and to the feet, picking apart the toes and stroking the soles and heels as lightly as I could manage.

I returned to the bottom. The glutes were firm and not over fleshed, so it was easy to find the way down the cleft. I made sure the middle finger of my right hand was well lubricated with saliva, and drew it down the length of the cleft, barely touching the puckered orifice. Repeated several times before returning to the central target, which it circled again and again, before with great care finding a way in: just one finger to the first knuckle. My left hand went under her and suggested she turn over. Once on her back I could spread her legs apart. No detectable resistance!

The right hand was still underneath, stealthily moving in and out of the rectum. For comfort it would not stay there for long. Then I got a leg over, as they say, which meant I finished up kneeling facing Sophie's feet. I put my left hand over her vulva and met my right had coming up. Sophie was now encircled by my embrace around her anus and vulva, and I held her like that for as long as I could manage.

Time then to extricate the underneath hand. Time to approach her excited vulva with my mouth. I lip-gripped the labia in turn, giving each a gentle suck; then ran my tongue down and up the furrow, finding at the top the little nodule that was the protruding tip, the glans, of the clitoris. I circled it with my tongue several times, kissed it, sucked on it, and then flicked it with the tongue to set up a rhythm.

The left hand now leant fingers to the proceedings. They found their way with ease into the vagina, the true cunt which, I was happy to note, was awash with natural lube. I located her G-spot and lightly caressed it, as one might tickle under the chin of a soppy cat. Sophie responded with a series of little mewing sounds. With my tongue I pushed down hard on the clitoris. The mewing died away and her arms tightened around me.

"Darling!"

"Yes?" I had to stop what my tongue was doing.

"You have just given me the most marvellous foreplay ever. But now I really need you inside me. Please." All this in a slightly breathless, distracted voice.

I had to turn round and stretch out between her legs. I came into her with such ease, but there was a gentle grip as the sides of her cunt swelled to embrace my cock. I was as stiff as I had ever been, certainly for many years.

"Your stiff prick has filled me. Can you stay like that for a day or two? If not will you give me a good fucking so we can cum together?"

"I'll do my best. Can I get my hands behind your bottom please?"

She rolled left and right as I pushed my hands in to grab handfuls of buttocks and pull them towards me. I pushed myself up a bit; her arms were around me under my shoulder blades; I looked her straight in the eyes and then enveloped her mouth with my lips, shoved my tongue between her teeth and mimicked the vigorous in-and-out of my cock.

It was now as energetic a fuck as this 60-year-old could manage. But then I stopped, and re-set the rhythm from fast to stately, drawing my cock back to the limit of the cunt, playing around there, and then plunging as deep as I could. Fast again, then stately. Repeated. Then the tempo increased again in a final push to climax together. It was a tumultuous climax, with a lot of noise from both of us, and a lot of heavy breathing to follow.

*

"Oh my. What have we done?" exclaimed Sophie. "Past the point of no return, I think. We shall have to devise some means of staying together."

I rolled over but remained clasped to her. We drifted off into a light sleep.

"I'm going to get up and fetch glasses of water" I said on waking, and when I brought them back she was sitting propped up by pillows.

"Thank you for being a magnificent partner for my first foray into fucking for several years. I couldn't have had a more appreciative lover." I said, passing her a glass of water and sitting down beside her.

"I was overwhelmed by all that you did to me, not just the physical joys and excitements, but the tenderness and care with which you fucked me. My whole body was meltingly receptive, and you were the perfect guest." Sophie stroked my face as she spoke.

"I have to change my whole attitude to sex I think. I'd come to consider it a thing of the past. Or maybe something between me, my imagination, and someone else's words or videos, but I wasn't getting much success with this. Either way it didn't actively involve anyone else"

"You've tried porn then?" Sophie asked.

"Yes, and the more I've seen, the more of a mystery it's become. There are tens of thousands of videos out there: nearly all of them are silent, barring a few grunts; most of them start with a woman on her knees sucking a man's cock; and a large proportion end with the bloke wanking himself to produce a copious amount of very white semen. I thought for a time that the Japanese were better at it, but nearly all of them start with a long sequence of the heroine (?) doing housework. What's that all about? They often have quite a lot of dialogue, and I'd love to know what they are saying, but probably not enough to take evening classes in Japanese porn language. They often involve coercion -- always male on female, of course -- and the women look and sound as if they are in terrible pain. I've given up. What about you? Found anything to get your juices working?"

"Not really. I mean nothing that's a guaranteed turn-on. I enjoyed reading the Nancy Friday books, and some of the women's fantasies did get me going. In fact I read some of them several times. There was one who recounted how she had paid regular visits to the boy next door (both 18 years old of course) to study together, but also to practice caning each other on the bottom, and masturbating. I still don't fully understand what I found arousing about that, because I strongly oppose caning of anyone by anyone; but I suppose that, if both parties desire it, being taboo adds to the appeal. And then I like the idea of playful bottom spanking, and I've no idea why that appeals." Sophie grinned at me as she uttered the last sentence.

"I agree that the written word can be the one turn-on that works. There's a website called Literotica which publishes stories from mainly amateur contributors. They seem largely to be the working out of unfulfilled fantasies, and so are an elaboration of the Nancy Friday idea and some of them are quite exotically erotic, and some quite well written."

If there are any twenty-somethings still reading this, they will be disbelieving that a man and a woman could be sitting together naked on a bed having a dispassionate discussion about porn. Why aren't they at it like woodpigeons, just revving up for their third orgasm?

I will defend this odd inclusion by informing these lucky youths, that things change as one ages. A certain urgency may be lost from the need for instant gratification of lust. Doesn't mean, though, that we lose interest entirely in matters sexual. Sophie and I were proof of the resilience of that interest.

While we were having the above discussion we were allowing hands to continue showing our fascination with each other's bodies. I had a hand on the nearest breast, which was still shapely and held the nipple temptingly poised and looking up expectantly. Sophie had her hand, quite protectively I thought, on my now politely withdrawn phallus.

"Would you like to give 'his' and 'hers' names?" Sophie enquired. "We won't always want to refer to them as 'cock' and 'cunt', and I'd like to keep those terms to use when we need them to express lustful intent or activity."

"That seems a good, if slightly wacky, idea. Any proposals?"

"Well, for some reason I fancy calling him 'Major' or 'the Major'. In view of his ability to stand so nicely to attention I thought something military would be good."

"The Major is extremely happy to accept his rapid promotion. He has always felt like a corporal. If it's not too obvious, how about 'Clio' for his counterpart?"

"Greek goddess, Muse of History? Oh yes, brilliant." Then: "has anyone talked to you about size?" she asked, giving the Major a gentle tug to see how far he stretched.

"No, not really. I thought that I was quite small, but I have had several lovers over many years, and we've parted for lots of different reasons, but my size was never one of them. As I've got older I've come to regard it as a benefit not to have a large member getting in the way and needing sorting out."