The Hidden Island

The melancholy left me. Helen had said to trust her, and I would. This moment was all there was.

There was no need to speak. He lips were soft and welcoming, and her arms held me lovingly. Her hands roamed my back and pulled me closer as our tongues met - at first tentatively, then with more assurance, and then with passion.

I knew that she knew, but I said it anyway: "I've never done this before."

I meant the kissing. I was no virgin; I had visited hookers, a few times - sour and meaningless experiences - but hookers don't kiss.

Helen smiled at me languidly. "Neither have I. It's nice."

I searched her memory - mine now - and I saw that she was right. She had been used, but never loved.

We kissed some more. There was no hurry.

I held her close and stroked her, fondled her, explored her perfect body with my young, soft hands. She twisted and writhed against me, gasping and moaning, hissing and whispering half-words by turns.

I stroked her breast - her perfect breast - through her garment, and realized that it had changed to silk.

I looked down. It was sheer, almost transparent - and her nipple was hardening, growing long and stiff, nosing into my palm insistently. I squeezed it gently, and she gasped.

I slid the silky garment from her shoulder, and held her bare breast in my hand. White as ivory, round, softly pointed and perfect, her nipple like a large, ripe plum - I bent to kiss it, reverently, and Helen moaned softly and lifted it to my mouth. I held and kissed one, then moved to the other.

The tips of her sweet nipples were long and thick, bigger than her fingertips and as tender as her tongue. I sucked them gently, and she whimpered.

I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes wet against her cheeks; her rosebud mouth was open in passion, her face pink with it.

"Should I command you to enjoy this?" I whispered.

"You don't have to," she breathed. "I know you want me to -"

"More than anything," I whispered back.

"- and I do," she finished. "More than anything."

Helen's tunic was hiked far up on her perfect thighs. I stroked her legs, and she snuggled close, drawing her knees up to make it easier.

"You are so beautiful," I said - and thought, with a smile, What an understatement. I leaned back and looked at her. She opened her eyes, smiled, and let me, stretching languidly.

Her tunic of filmy silk had fallen to her waist, and her perfect breasts - so large on her small frame, so beautifully shaped and firm - quivered and stirred as she moved. Her legs were bare to her hips, and her lovely feet were bare; her leather sandals lay discarded on the carpet.

Helen smiled at me again, her eyes half-closed and filled with love. She looked at me knowingly.

"You've barely seen me, John," she said in a breathless, secretive whisper. "Let me show you more...."

Helen rose gracefully from the sofa. Her tunic was somehow back in place, and opaque again.

I stood too. My cock was hard as steel, of course. Helen moved close to me, and -

I'd say she undressed me, but it was rather simpler than that. My ragged polo shirt and shorts simply - evaporated. I felt an instant of embarrassment - then I remembered; I was young again. My tired, pot-bellied, middle-aged body was gone.

Helen giggled at the sight of my stiff organ. To my total shock, she knelt quickly and kissed it - then pushed me back down onto the sofa with a golden laugh.

"Watch now," she whispered. She turned and took a few steps away from me - then turned back and said, "But don't touch yourself. Leave that for me."

She had surprised me so many times already - and here was another: when she turned back toward me, Helen's face was veiled. Nothing of it was visible but her hypnotic eyes. They drilled into me like violet laser beams, piercing my soul.

I tore my eyes from hers and moved them downward, and saw what she was wearing - and I gasped. She smiled behind the veil and began to move.

Exotic, sensuous music came from nowhere, and my lovely, perfect Helen began to dance for me - in a costume calculated to drive any man to the edge of madness. On top, she wore a short, sheer vestlike garment, open in the front to reveal the inner curves of her delicious breasts and short enough to expose them below; only her nipples were covered, and those imperfectly. Glimpses of her quivering pink tips inflamed me as she danced.

Beneath, she wore a jeweled belt, very low on her wide, inviting hips. Her narrow waist and sweet belly were pale and bare.

From her belt, a long, wide strip of sheerest silk hung, shadowing her pelvis teasingly and swinging free to reveal her bare, pale, perfect legs. She wore a gleaming bracelet on one ankle, and her lovely feet were bare.

"I know what you like," she whispered.

Helen moved like a serpent. Her perfect body was weaving a sinuous web of purest, blazing lust - seamlessly woven together with heartbreaking beauty and grace. She danced, she wriggled and writhed, she undulated and quivered and crouched and pumped her hips and shook her heavy breasts and rolled her perfect, barely-hidden bottom with a smooth and liquid sensuality beyond imagination. Her bracelets jingled, providing all the music she needed; her bare feet moved gracefully on the carpet, arching and flexing prettily; and her achingly perfect legs bent and stretched, her bare thighs quivering and opening wide in flashes of shocking revelation.

My cock was standing up like a fence post, throbbing-hard and glistening at the tip. Helen eyed it greedily as she moved - and she looked in my eyes and humped her pelvis in a blatant, unmistakable, animal rhythm.

Helen's dance grew subtly more urgent, more blatant, more lewd as I stared and shuddered. Her vest suddenly vanished, and she waggled her bare, luscious breasts wantonly, dancing bare to well below her waist; then her veil was gone, and even her bare, quivering breasts could not compare with her perfect face. She looked into my eyes - and pursed and licked her full, rich mouth obscenely as she danced.

Then her belt vanished, with the strips of flowing silk. My Helen was dancing naked before my staring, wondering eyes. The sight was one to boil a man's blood in his veins.

Her pubis was as bare and smooth as the palms of her hands, and she exhibited it shamelessly, crouching and working her hips hungrily - with her hands behind her back and her sweet chin tucked shyly into her shoulder. Her bare feet were planted wide apart, and she rolled and humped and hunched her pussy, bare breasts quaking, hard nipples quivering, till a gleaming skein of clear, swinging fluid slowly drooled from her hairless crotch and dripped to the carpet.

More fluid was pumping from my swollen, rock-hard cock. It was running down my shaft and trickling over my balls, which were drawn up tight and aching.

Helen was as bare and pink as a baby, and her face was as red and suffused with lust as my own. As she continued to bounce and wiggle and hunch, I moaned and pumped my own hips in blinding hunger.

Helen moved closer, closer, till she was dancing naked right over me - straddling my thighs as I lay back, shuddering, on the sofa. "Do you want me?" she breathed, stroking her swollen, drooling hole against the tip of my cock. Her pussy-scent was thick and sweet.

I could only moan. She slowly squatted, rotating her pale, plump hips the whole time and rubbing her oozing slit against my shaft - and then she stopped and giggled, shaking her pointed tits teasingly. "One more thing," she said, smiling sensuously. "I think you'll like it. I know I will."

Helen looked down at my cock, and I looked too - and as I watched in astonishment, it began to grow.

In a matter of seconds, my average, five-inch cock expanded and lengthened till it was enormous, the size of a four-cell flashlight. I looked at it in disbelief. I had regretted that I didn't have more to give her - and now -

My pale, curvy goddess squatted even lower, grinding her quivering wet opening against the gleaming , lemon-sized head of my enormous bone. "Do you want me, John?" she whispered again, her smoky eyes locked on my own. "Do you want me?"

My hunger for her had seemed to grow with my cock; I was on fire with it. I growled and grabbed her hips and pulled her down on me, and she cried out as I impaled her on my new, huge cock. I pulled her hot, slippery pussy all the way down to my balls.

Helen shuddered and came instantly, shaking with the intensity of it, her lovely mouth working and her breasts jiggling as she orgasmed - and as she kept on cumming.

My naked Helen began to bounce, her bare breasts flipping in my face, her fever-hot pussy rippling and squeezing on my dick convulsively; it felt like she was jacking me off with both her greased hands. I felt my cum rising to my cockhead already - and she clamped down with her muscles at the base, holding it back, helping me hold it back.

"You've never... fucked a djinn... before," she gasped, staring at my face through slitted eyelids. "I can... make it... last... all night...."

I sat up, and Helen bent and embraced me as we fucked, her nipples digging into my chest. She climbed onto the sofa and squatted on my cock - and humped me like an animal, pumping her perfect ass up and down in a primitive rhythm, fucking me in time to the music. We kissed, tongues wrestling, and we pulled at each other desperately. I lifted her hips slightly, and she took the cue and began to slide herself up and down on me.

All the way up, and all the way down.

I leaned back to watch. My beautiful Helen was doing deep-knee bends on my gigantic dick, trembling in ecstasy as she slid her bald, wet pussy up and down the whole length of my pole, feeling it push and pull, in and out of her sensitive, spasming pussy, showing herself off to me with lewd grace and innocent obscenity as she milked my cock with her talented hole.

"Oh, John," she cried in a strangled, choking tone. "Oh, John, so good - so good - fuck me, John - oh, keep fucking me - oh, in and out - love me, John - "

I rolled her over on the sofa and began to pound into her from above. She pulled her knees back and opened herself up to me, and I crouched and held her down and slammed it home over and over, fucking her hard with the whole length of my huge dick, making her big breasts flip up and brush her chin with every stroke.

I fucked her from behind and made her pale ass ripple; I fucked her from the side, with one perfect leg hooked over my shoulder; and I fucked her side-by-side on the floor, our legs entwined and our arms around each other, gazing into each other's eyes, lost in them and in our passion.

Helen's magic surrounded us. I fucked her for three hours, and every single second of it was better than any orgasm I'd ever had - and my lovely Helen savored it too. She came for me, over and over, shuddering on my plunging cock three times a minute, grunting and hunching and quaking like a beast.

Finally - "I'm going to cum, Helen," I croaked.

She smiled lewdly, still shuddering with endless lust, and began to ripple her juicy inner muscles on my swelling dick as she lay under me on the silken cushions. "Watch," she whispered. I saw her smile and wondered at it.

"Watch," she whispered again - and as I did, suddenly I was fucking Drew Barrymore. She was smiling up at me with that cockeyed, knowing smile and shaking her tattoos as I fucked her deep. Then it was Angelina Jolie, fucking me naked with her face filled with adoring passion. Then there was a girl who had taunted me in high school, biting her lip and fighting to keep from cumming; and then Liv Tyler, rising toward orgasm; then Rachel Weisz, then my boss's trophy wife, then Julia Roberts, then Marilyn Monroe, then Sandra Bullock....

She changed from one beauty to another, faster and faster. "I can be any woman you want," she whispered with the raspy voice of Rachael Ray. "You can cum in any woman who ever lived," said Katie Couric.

"I want you, Helen," I gasped. "No one but you. Make me cum in you..."

And I gazed into the eyes of my Helen again - and I exploded. I grabbed her beautiful breasts and jetted my boiling sperm into her grasping pussy, and we came together for ten mind-breaking minutes. Longer.

For what seemed like an hour, long, ragged spurts of thick white cum ripped from my monster cock and blasted into her quivering, gaping opening, over and over, and she put her hands over mine on her breasts and came under me till she was shivering with exhaustion. My cum squirted and slopped from her gushing pussy till we were fucking in a pond of it.

We fell against the cushions, and as my dripping cock swung free of her trembling hole, I pulled her close and hugged her. We lay together gasping.

We did not speak for long minutes. As our breaths and heartbeats slowed, we held each other and kissed - small, sweet kisses, tender and warm.

"I love you, Helen," I whispered.

"I love you, John," she breathed. "Thank you," she murmured contentedly, and snuggled closer.

After a time, she lifted her head and looked at me; her face was pink and relaxed, her hair wet with perspiration and matted to her perfect skin. She was disheveled and sweaty and tired and beautiful.

She smiled. "Was it good for you?" she asked.

I would have thought we were both too tired to laugh.

---

A few minutes later, we were laughing still, standing in our roomy new shower. As I soaped her creamy back with my slippery hands, Helen was looking out the west-facing window. I looked too; the sun would be setting soon.

She stopped laughing and spoke my name, very softly: "John?"

"Yes?"

"Will you set me free?"

I froze. She turned around, her naked body incandescent in the late-afternoon sunlight.

I must have looked stricken. I was - and seeing my face, so was she. "I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked...."

I touched her lips. "It's all right, Helen," I said. And then I embraced her beneath the steamy spray.

I felt her body against me, wet and perfect. I nuzzled her hair, inhaled its scent. My hands caressed her silky back. My eyes filled, again.

And I whispered in her ear, "My love, my own true love, my Helen - I love you more than I love my own life." I took a ragged breath. I felt her tension, and wondered at it.

"But.... Yes. Yes, I will." I held her close, clinging to her with tears running down my cheeks, unseen beneath the shower spray. "What do I do?"

For a third time, she asked, "John, do you trust me?" She spoke with her cheek against my chest. When she felt me nod, she pulled back and looked up at me.

"Then we must go to the temple," she said. She looked out the window. "And we must hurry."

Naked, barefoot and dripping-wet, we ran from the tent up the sandy path that Helen had made to the temple. Glancing back at the sun, she gasped. "Hurry, John," she whispered urgently.

We ran into the temple. She pointed at her jar, resting on the block of white marble. I picked it up and looked at her.

The sun was just above the horizon. She looked at it, then at me. She spoke quickly, but carefully and clearly:

"Say, 'Δεν βρέθηκαν λέξεις,' my love - and then smash the jar. And hurry!"

I pronounced the Greek words carefully - and then, with all my strength, I hurled the jar to the marble floor.

This time, it did not bounce; it shattered into a thousand pieces.

My naked Helen, her beautiful face alight, ran to me and embraced me -

And then, to my shock, she collapsed in my arms. If I had not been holding her, she'd have fallen to the marble floor.

I carried her back to the tent, my heart pounding; she was absolutely limp in my arms, as boneless as a rag. I laid her on the bed.

She was breathing. That was all.

She did not wake for hours. I covered her with a blanket, watched her still face, and paced.

I had first seen that face only that morning. It seemed like years. A lifetime.

Finally, she awoke, but slowly. I had heard her sigh, and was kneeling by the bed and holding her hand as she came to. Her big eyes fluttered, opened, and looked at me sleepily. And then she smiled, and there was light in the world again.

"Are you leaving me?" I whispered.

She smiled so sweetly, I felt my heart breaking - and then she said -

"Never, John. Never, never, never."

I knew what she meant. I lay down on top of her, and once again, we were one.....

.....I was standing before the old wizard, weeping and looking into his hideous face. The jar rested between us, open and waiting.

This, I knew, was what lay behind that brief darkness when Helen and I had been one before.

"Is there no hope for me?" I heard myself - Helen - asking plaintively.

The strangely wrinkled face gave a semblance of a smile. "Perhaps," he said. Then he closed his eyes and spoke as if compelled to:

"A man will come one day," the wizard intoned, "who will come to you through time and space and fire and water.... He will see that which cannot be seen.... He will give you that which you have never had, and he will lift from you that which you find most hard to bear.... He will carry your pain and your joy, and he will teach you all that you will have forgotten."

The aged creature paused and lifted his misshapen claws. His voice grew deeper.

"He will do all this in a single day; and when you have shown him all the pleasure he can bear, and more - "

The wizard's eyes opened, and he looked into mine.

"If he will set you free, in that same day, then your soul will be restored to you. Only such a love can defeat the laws of the Djinn."

The vision faded; and Helen was beside me, leaning on her elbow and looking down at my face. "Do you know what you have given me?" she whispered. I shook my head. "I am a real, human woman again," she whispered. "Look."

There was a mirror across from the bed, where I saw both of us reflected - and Helen smiling back at me.

And then we kissed.

I had not thought it could be better - but it was.

---

"What if I had freed you after sunset?" I asked a few days later. We were having another pizza; Helen had grown fond of them.

She wiped her mouth and smiled. "We would be eating fish and fruit," she said.

"Huh?"

"I would have become entirely mortal again, John. I would have lost my powers, and I would grow old and die with you - but still without a soul."

"Oh." I took another bite. "So what happens now?"

She gave me another enigmatic smile. "Anything," she said. "Anything at all."

---

It's been well over a year now. We've traveled the world - in the present, and the past. We've spent most of our time here, though, in our private Eden, usually wearing just what Adam and Eve did.

And something else happened, that neither of us expected.

His name is Odussos. He'll be six months old next week - and he looks more like his mother than me.

Good thing.