Eros was a Greek

"That's good. I don't think it matters much anyway for most women. At the risk of encouraging him to seek further promotion, I'll say that the Major is my size, thank you very much. What's more I think he's really rather handsome!"

"I think I need to say something about Clio. Vulvas haven't really enjoyed a good press have they, and nowadays they are too often deprived of their fur. Clio is still resplendent in her fur coat, which is a pretty colour and softly curled. She's not backward in presenting herself as any good Muse should, but far from wanton. The Major has been inspired."

"Can I just talk for a moment about the next few days, or weeks. I hope you have realised that sex with you is probably what I have been looking for since Stuart, sixteen years ago. So it really is incredibly important for me, and maybe for you. But I would like it to be just a great part of our relationship, not the reason for it. Let's live together and see if we are as compatible in other ways, as I think we may be. We are good friends already, and that is such a good start."

"I think we both have the experience to know that the intensity of physical attraction changes with time, so it's not a basis for a long-term relationship." I said "I would like to think that this is going to be for the long term, and there is nothing in what you've said that hasn't passed through my mind already."

"Wonderful. I'll do my best not to wear you out: I need you to last!" laughed Sophie. "Do you want another drink before we 'go to bed' - as in 'retire for the night'?"

"Water is enough thanks."

"And can we lie as spoons, and if the Major is not too tired, please can he say goodnight to Clio?"

I didn't reply. I just took her hand and squeezed it.

*

We washed and retired. I cosied up to her back and bottom, and as the lightweight duvet was barely covering our legs, I could first admire what I was about to embrace. The Major was clearly impressed.

"I won't spank your bottom now, but I'd be only too happy to do it sometime... soon." I murmured.

Sophie wriggled her bottom provocatively. "I shall want you to make it the colour of setting sun and then give me a sound fucking from behind."

"I didn't even know you 52 hours ago. You couldn't have known that you would be saying such rude things to a gentleman so soon after he introduced himself to you."

"You're right. I shall have to be far more... careful... in... the..."

The Major was poised to attempt an entry, waiting for my fingers to act as the vanguard. In a moment he was inside, but all was quiet. I kept as still as circumstance allowed. I stroked her neck and shoulders, shoulders, neck, arm... neck... where was I? Inside. All soft. All quiet. Long day... lovely feeling... awfully long d...

*

I noticed it was getting light. Must be 5 o'clock. Something felt funny: oh yes, I was about to... wasn't I? Well what was I doing falling asleep? Sixty years old; I was being 60, that's what I was doing. The Major had become quite Minor and slipped out of his new holiday home.

I looked at the still sleeping form in front of me. The back was long and firm, the shoulders wide and smoothly curved, and below was a sight that made me fill up with all sorts of emotions, not all of which were lustful. The assemblage of buttocks is as revealing of the person as a face or a set of fingerprints. It gives a news report on how the life has been lived. Is it tight or slack, round or oval, is it protuberant or retrusive? I could judge that this life had been lived carefully, with due attention to fitness, and without over-indulgences. I still wanted to know more about its past and about what it was like now.

I slipped out of bed and went to make myself a drink. It was already warm, so I didn't bother to put anything on. It was a luxury to walk about naked, and it was a lovely place to do it. I hadn't even got the drink in the mug before Sophie appeared.

"I'm so sorry" she said "I must have fallen asleep at a critical moment. The evidence was there this morning, but I can't remember."

"I woke up thinking it was me that fell asleep. We will have to pace ourselves a bit, I guess. No assumptions that we can behave like 20-somethings. I realise now that I was knackered."

"Me too. All your fault, of course. One a day from now on: no attempts at three times in nine hours."

I looked at this gorgeous body and smiling face. I thought, stupidly, that I could manage three times in the next hour. Instead I put my arms around her. She was also unclothed.

"What will you drink?" I asked.

"Some proper coffee please."

We'd bought some the previous day and there was soon the delicious fragrance of freshly made coffee. We sat down together on one of the sofas and ate some fruit and yoghurt as well as drinking the coffee.

"Have you any thoughts about what we might do today?" I asked.

"I think that we have had quite a testing time for the last three days. This seems a rather nice place to be, so let's stay around. We can read on the balcony; have a look round the town; maybe find a restaurant for a meal this evening. Do you cook?"

"Yes, I do. I think I can do a reasonable job with most things."

"Wonderful news. Living alone I've got out of the habit. I used to eat in the middle of the day, most often in college. Just snacks in the evening."

"O.k. let's stay here. I'm content."

We were now close together and had finished our coffee. We looked at each other, knowing what we were thinking."

"Can we please go back to bed, just for a little while?" Sophie asked.

"No, I don't think so. We have to shower and dress, do the cleaning and make the bed, and go shopping. Why on earth would we want to go back to bed?"

"Be careful or I shall do a reverse-neanderthal and drag you back to bed by your hair," at which point she took command of the Major and I was forced, entirely against my will, back into the bedroom.

We lay down and began to stroke and examine each other's bodies. I had the better view undoubtedly, but we both still had flat tummies, and were largely free of cellulite. I straddled her, and gave extensive attention to her burnished breasts, which I felt in retrospect had not received full appreciation the day before. I won't bother to describe them again, beyond saying that they were still a fantastic asset to Sophie. But I was now in a prime position, not just to admire but to bestow suitable greetings. My urge was to kiss them, in as open-mouthed and slobbery way as I could manage, to chew on them as one might chew on a ripe melon, and to massage them like a moist sourdough, with care but purpose.

Because I don't have the male's alleged inability to do more than one thing at a time, I could maintain the kneading while I also concentrated on kissing her mouth. I tried to make a positive entry with my tongue, without it seeming like an assault. I needn't have worried because it was immediately grabbed by teeth and sucked at like a Raspberry Mivvi.

As we have discussed, the Major is not overly large, but he certainly doesn't get to look more resolute than he did then. He was helped in his resolve by a kind and tender hand, which coaxed him towards the open goal which was waiting below, marvellously anointed to greet him. He entered demurely, but then seemed to be overtaken with the feeling that he should reach out into the mysterious darkness to see what was at the end of the smooth and friendly tunnel. Having done this once he needed to repeat, again and again, until his present was all ready to deliver. His hostess continued her gentle and thoughtful response, telling him that his visit was quite the best thing since... well, yesterday, and doing something which made him feel he was being hugged. Suddenly he felt himself being raised up by his hostess, and then his master made a huge effort to get him to the end of the tunnel. He delivered his present and he knew he'd done the right thing because there was a lot of noise, and voices saying "thank you, thank you," and it was nice to know that the present had been appreciated. He wouldn't mind trying again another time.

(I wasn't actually writing this down as it happened. After all I'm a writer, not a bloody reporter. You'll be asking me next if I had a press photographer with me. It's just that the Major and I are in constant communication, so I know exactly what is going on. I'm building up a similar rapport with Clio, and maybe I'll be able to let you into some of her secrets soon.)

Sophie spoke first: "Oh that was FUN. I loved it. It was almost as if our bodies were talking to each other."

"But they were, didn't you pick it up? It went something like this:

CLIO: Oh hello; good to see you again. I hope you are going to be a regular visitor.

THE MAJOR: Good to be here! Yes, it would be lovely if it became a long-term thing. The last few years have been very disappointing. He even gave up doing it by hand, and I can't say I was sorry. His heart really wasn't in it, and I can soon get sore these days. That's why it's great to be here -- you make things so comfortable and easy.

CLIO: I've had a lean spell too. It's just been fingers and toys for what seems like years. It just isn't the same. They forget that it's not just about orgasm: there are lots of other nice feelings in the process. It so much better when they get together.

THE MAJOR: We seem a really good fit don't you think?

HER: Great. Glad you're not too big; I had quite enough of that stretching popping the sprogs. A few years ago there was a young man who hadn't done it before. He had a lovely cock, and he soon learnt how to use it nicely. His chap and me had a great time; and talk about stamina -- wow! He could go on for hours. But you're definitely the best since then.

HIM: Glad to hear it. How have your outside bits been with us? I know they sometimes get neglected, but I think he was fairly attentive back along.

HER: No complaints at all. Lots of attention to detail! Not too rough either.

HIM: We're getting on a bit now, and not as much stamina as we once had. I hope you manage to get over the line.

HER: No problems. Experience counts you know! And he gets you right up where it counts. You're talented at rubbing that bit just inside. We need to get them doing it with him behind. Could be even better!

HIM: I need to concentrate; I think he's nearly there. What about you?

HER: Yes. Oh yes! Shall we see if we can do it together?

HIM: That would be exceedingly good. On 5 o.k.? 1...2...3...4...

HIM AND HER: OhhAAAAAhYEEEEsssssssssssss!

Pause.

HIM: That was great. I felt you squeezing him, and that's really special.

HER: Thank you. I could sense your delivering, and that's a turn-on."

My dramatisation ended.

"You are an idiot! But an amusing and loveable one" Sophie laughed.

"That's a relief. I had wondered if I had lapsed into terminal dullness."

"Definitely not. Shall we go and explore?"

Nafplio(n) is a fine city of many parts. Our apartment was by St Georgios' church, which began life in the 16^th century as a Venetian Catholic church; has twice been a mosque during Turkish occupation; and is now Greek Orthodox for the second time. We went inside and stood under the dome and looked at the 18^th and 19^th century frescoes, which failed to excite, although the overall space is impressive.

When we came out we walked west along Staikopoulou, one of the main walking streets, lined with shops, cafes, bars and restaurants. A lovely atmosphere, pleasantly thronging with people, but not overcrowded. Tourists from abroad appeared to be in a small minority. We walked on to where the road emerged on the sea front and went down onto the splendid promenade.

We spent a happy hour or so wandering the streets, strolling by the harbour, generally getting our bearings. Without difficulty we found a small restaurant that didn't make too many concessions to tourists, not directly facing the sea, as the restaurants on the front had the same ambience as any collection of eating places at prime spots in busy tourist areas of Europe. They were large, pretty impersonal and lacking any decisive feature that would make you favour one rather than another.

We were sitting under an awning on the pavement when the waiter came with a menu. Sophie said "good afternoon, we are here for lunch please and can we have some water" all in Greek. The waiter replied in English. Quite annoying. Anyway he was a very pleasant young man and we soon had what we wanted. It wasn't much more than a snack because we intended to come back for supper later. So a couple of portions of kolokithopita, and glasses of Zeos organic lager, was all we needed.

"How are you feeling about Epidavros and Mycenae now?" Sophie asked.

"Good question. I have seen them both, so they don't fall into the 'must see' category. My recently developed antipathy to hordes of tourists all gawping at the same things suggests that I might do well to keep clear of these two places. But if you want to..."

"No. On the contrary, I'd much rather not, and I was hoping that you might have lost enthusiasm. I like this place, and I would be quite happy to extend our stay, and if you haven't been there, Argos and Tyrinthos are worth some time, and Nemea is a good place to see excavations in progress. You also need to visit Nemea as background for your forthcoming biography of Hercules."

"I hadn't mentioned that. How did you know?"

"You referred to your current biog as a 'herculean task'!"

"I thought I had a monopoly on the witticisms. It's only fair that you stick to providing the invaluable historical background."

"When we have done Nafplio and this bit of coast," she said, ignoring my last comment, "I have a suggestion to make as to where we go next. You must say if it doesn't fit in with your plans and expectations."

"They were very fluid. I have done the one thing that had lodged in my mind by going to Perachora. It more than lived up to expectations! So fire away."

"When we get back to the flat I'll show you on my laptop what I have found. Before that you could tell me how you'd feel about hiding ourselves away in a beautiful rural spot, reached from here in less than an hour."

"I would love that. I had that as a dream, but I didn't suggest it because I thought you might not appreciate being a bit isolated."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a towny, and they are sometimes allergic to too much silence, too few people and an excessively green landscape."

"Well, as far as this 'towny' is concerned that's bollocks. I do all my walking in rural areas and living where I do in Oxford is not exactly inner city."

"O.k. That's great. I look forward to seeing what you've found."

"Listen, I know I'm being rather soppy about this, but I do feel so much at home with you that I could be almost anywhere and be happy in it. To enjoy a beautiful place, splendid walking, and you... well what could be better?"

I don't know about her feeling soppy, but I felt my eyes prickle, and I had to blink hard to stop myself shedding tears. I had never expected to find such warmth and togetherness so soon. I could now look forward positively, and not backwards in grief.

Finishing our 'snack' and paying up, we set off back to the flat. Not far to go, but it was now hot and quite humid. Our apartment had a pleasant balcony with an awning. We opened the double doors to the balcony, pulled a sofa round to an angle with the open doors and sat catching the little breeze there was. We hadn't got much on. I had boxers, Sophie had shorts and a bikini top. We read for an hour, then slept for half an hour.

"We could go to bed," said Sophie. So we did.

We made love quietly, sensuously and with much attention to the delights of stroking and massaging. In fact it was probably 20 minutes before the Major slid happily into what he was now considering home, and even then the tempo was 'adagio' rather than 'allegro'. The climax was marked by an intense embrace, the release of long sighing breaths, and murmurings of mutual gratitude.

*

Much later I asked: "You remember we had a bit of discussion about spanking." It was no coincidence that I had two comfortable handfuls of buttocks.

"I do."

"Is this just spanking as part of a loving fuck, or do you envisage some kind of role play, with you playing the naughty penitent, and me the cruel punisher?"

"Oh goodness, not that. But you'd need to be firm."

"That's a relief. I couldn't do it: partly because I doubt if I could bring myself to oblige, and partly because I would dissolve in hysterical laughter anyway."

"But you wouldn't mind a bit of 'slap and tickle'?"

"I'm sure I would love it. And I find the idea of fucking your reddened bottom I quite arousing."

"You wouldn't want to fuck me anally would you? Because I don't think I'm quite ready for that. But with you I might be up for it sometime soon because I'd know you would be careful and kind."

"I'll only ever do what you want me to do," I promised.

"I feel that talking about it has stirred him up a bit," she said, gently squeezing the Major. She turned me on my back and began sucking my now erect cock; satisfied that he was properly prepared for the short journey to join his friend she straddled me, facing my feet, and lowered herself. As soon as she was impaled she began to ride him, moving backwards and forwards and up and down. I couldn't remember feeling anything quite so physically intense -- it was heavenly. I spread her buttocks and licked a finger and carefully inserted it into the wrinkled orifice, as I had once before.

"You can push it in a bit further if you want," she said, looking over her shoulder and grinning.

I happily obeyed instructions. Now well and truly mounted she had hold of my legs and was using her arms for extra momentum. This was high energy stuff for the middle-aged, so it was not long before I sensed that she was riding toward the final hurdle.

"Oh cocks and cunts - this is sooooo good. Can you lift in time with me? Get so that he just can't penetrate any further, and then let me have it." This all came out in a bit of a rush, as clearly she was concentrating on more than words. And so it proved. The rider's seat slapped on the saddle (me) and the bearer responded by lifting her skywards until it seemed that I was about to create a fountain that would wash away any doubt that this was where we were meant to be. And it came... pulsing into the warm cocoon and leaving me gasping for recovery. I was just about aware that something equally dramatic had happened to my rider, and she had now collapsed forward onto my legs.

Silence.

She climbed out of the saddle and dismounted.

"Good ride?" I asked.

"One of the best. Exhilarating, exciting, exhausting."

"I thought you said it was going to be once a day from this morning," I reminded her.

"Yes, but that was before I realised how good it was." Sophie's reply was slightly worrying.

"Just remember our combined age of 116. Please."

"Alright, I'll try, but no promises. I'm not really in control."

*

We showered -- again -- and dressed for supper.

Sitting eating our excellent meal outside the restaurant we had been to at lunchtime, I invited Sophie to fill me in with a bit of Greek history, which I was aware had been turbulent, to put it mildly.

"I'll be kind and let you start with the 1930s, as it's your specialism." I said.

"Well there was enough going on in the thirties to keep us going for several meals. The beginning of the thirties was all about the fallout from the defeat by Turkey in 1922, which led to the Treaty of Lausanne the following year. As a result territory changed hands, and people migrated: nearly 1.5million Christians from Turkey to Greece; and half a million Moslems the other way. It was also about the continuing struggle between Royalists and Republicans, principally the Liberals, who drew great support from the new immigrants."