I’m not sure how long I’d been walking, as my thoughts were still occupied by the day’s excursion, but I must have been travelling for a considerable time as the surroundings became unfamiliar. I cut away from the track I’d been following, attracted by a large clump of trees that looked as though they’d provide some welcome shade from the heat. I walked between several of the trees and found myself standing in a large, circular clearing that was surrounded by pine trees. In the middle of the clearing there was a very large piece of stone. It was shaped like a bowl, thigh height and about six foot in diameter. There were no other rocks or boulders in the area and it looked as though it had been placed there for a specific purpose.
From my experience of Delos, I thought the clearing had a ceremonial feel to it. Perhaps this had been some kind of place of worship, some religious meeting place? I walked over to the stone and brushed my hand over its flattened surface. It was warm and smooth. I wondered whether it had been used as some sort of ancient table or perhaps even an altar?
I wandered around it looking for any engravings or graffiti that might give me clues to its purpose. As I did so, my foot kicked against a hard clump of dry grass. I bent down and tore away some of the brittle grass to reveal a piece of smooth stone. I picked it up. It had a curious shape. Feeling a little excited, I sat on the table and examined it more closely. It was a length of marble, about seven inches long, phallus shaped, rounded and smooth at one end with a large ball at the other which I assumed was meant to be a handle or a representation of a scrotum, or both. It felt sensuous. I began to fantasise, imagining myself as a novice about to be initiated into the ancient mysteries of Apollo or Dionysus, surrounded by others, being fucked with the phallus as part of a ceremony. The image was arousing.
By now, the light was beginning to change as it was late in the afternoon. The day had lost its brightness. I took a swig from a bottle of wine I’d brought and listened, peacefully, to the summer stillness. I felt relaxed. The air was still and warm around my body and the stone table was warming my buttocks.
In the distance I could hear the pleasant chirping of grasshoppers. I lay on my back, spread myself on the table and looked up at the blue sky. I thought again of the initiation ceremony and imagined, in more detail, a ritual in honour of Apollo or Dionysus in which the cult’s priestesses used an oiled, marble phallus to pleasure me.
My arousal returned and I sat up. I was entirely alone on what was an almost uninhabited island. The nearest building was some way off and inhabited by an old fisherman and his wife. There was no chance of me being seen. I picked up the stone phallus, pulled up my thin, cotton dress and spread my legs. I felt its warm head as I pressed and gently rubbed it against my opening, feeling its smooth warmth against my clit. Gradually, the head disappeared. I began to ease the marble back and forth, gasping with pleasure as I enjoyed my fantasy. After a few minutes I felt myself building to an orgasm and I looked up, toward the trees, my breath now in shorter gasps, and then I stopped, suddenly, jolted by a feeling of danger. I was being watched.
It was his face I noticed first, his eyes. He was standing by a pine tree, still and alert. His head was raised slightly, his nose sniffing the air, like an animal trying to locate a scent and an odd thought occurred to me – had my pussy attracted his attention? He stared at me and I felt my initial surprise replaced by a trance like curiosity. His eyes had the light, piercing blue of a wolf. They had an animal intelligence, cunning and alert. They were attractive, mesmerising. His head was covered by shoulder length, thick, copper hair. His face had the lazy sneer I recognised from so many pieces of ancient pottery and illustrations. His torso was hairless but underneath his belly, and covering his flanks, was a carpet of copper coloured, shaggy fur that tapered down to his cloven hooves. Two short, stubby horns protruded from the top of his forehead. An erect cock emphasised his arrogant appearance.
I sat, astonished. Here was the living form of a mythical creature, a satyr, a lascivious follower of Dionysus. Then, from the trees, a few feet to the left, another satyr appeared, almost identical to the one staring at me. He sauntered over to his companion with an elegant swagger, an erect cock swaying proudly in front of him. He was holding a small amphora which he held up to his mouth, gulped back some of its contents and then let out a mirthful laugh. He gave the amphora to his companion who raised it to his mouth and swigged, carelessly, without taking his eyes from me.
The second satyr now noticed me. I felt threatened yet I was enthralled. Everything was utterly quiet. The satyrs watched me, nonchalantly assessing me. I wondered, fearfully, whether they were waiting for me to move, to run, before they attacked. I don’t know how long I sat there, seconds or minutes, but the atmosphere suddenly changed with the faint sound of laughter and then the reedy sound of a pipe. The satyrs smiled; leering, lazy, lustful smiles, as they stood, staring at me. I could now hear several pipes and the sound, melodic and playful, became louder and clearer. Then a group appeared from the trees, a tribe of satyrs and maenads who were dressed in long, flowing togas.
At the head of them was a beautiful man. There was an aura of happiness and joy about him. He was youthful and had a slim, athletic build. Thick, sandy coloured hair tumbled past his shoulders, he was stunning. I could only think he was a god. As he walked gracefully towards me, he uncovered himself, letting his toga slip to the floor. His cock, like the satyrs, was erect and swayed freely in the warm, evening air. His torso was smooth, tight and lithe. His face lit up with a full, sunny, happy smile and I found myself smiling back, caught up in the festive atmosphere. I couldn’t take my eyes from his face. He came right up to me, still smiling, bent down and kissed me, a long, tender kiss and from the moment his lips touched mine I was enchanted.
He put his arms around me and I felt his cock, hard against my thigh as I felt myself relax in his embrace. I was aware that all had now gone quiet and, after a while, the god broke away from me, looked around and laughed. It was as though his laugh was some kind of signal. The satyrs threw back their heads and let out a strange, sexually charged laugh which had a low, rhythmic purr and added to the sexual frisson. I was now caught up in the atmosphere and found myself smiling and laughing, carefree and filled with sexual desire.
Several satyrs came over to the stone table, their cocks swaying above me. The god knelt down on the table beside me, took me in his arms again and kissed me, his tongue filling my mouth, his hands caressing my neck and shoulders and moving over my breasts. He put a hand between my legs and gently eased my thighs apart. I followed his lead and spread my thighs wider, expecting to feel his fingers inside me. My eyes were still closed as I concentrated on his tongue which was still exploring my mouth. It wasn’t his fingers but the head of a satyr I felt between my legs, his shaggy hair caressing the soft insides of my thighs and his excited breath warming my pussy. Then, a practiced tongue lapped at my pussy, sending pulses of pleasure through me. I opened my eyes and watched as the sneering face gorged on me. Again, the god broke away, looked down and laughed as the satyrs, like pigs at a trough, nudged each other aside. I felt no fear, only desire and I lay back in his arms, smiling as the satyrs feasted on my pussy. Their tongues, experienced and lustful, sent me into a dizzy joy as waves of pleasure coursed through me. The satyrs took turns to taste me and trotted around, whooping with joy, as though the juice from my pussy was some rare, vintage wine. I looked dreamily around me and took in what was now a full blown orgy. Shaggy satyr haunches pumped away as they took the maenads on their backs and from behind. Some of the maenads were fiercely riding satyrs and the early evening air was filled with grunts and cries of pleasure.
A maenad, only a few feet in front of me, was kneeling in front of a satyr, gripping the shaggy fur on his flanks as she greedily sucked the end of his cock. As the satyr’s purrs of approval grew louder she pulled away, cupped his balls with one hand and began to masturbate him with the other. The satyr tensed, then his hi
ps bucked uncontrollably and his cock ejaculated great spurts of semen that sprayed lines across the enrapt face of the maenad. She delicately wiped the come from her face and sucked what she could gather from her fingers, moaning with pleasure as though satyr semen were some rare delicacy.
I turned to the god whose fingers were now working between my legs and put my hand around his warm cock which felt like the marble phallus, hard and smooth. ‘Fuck me,’ I whispered, not knowing whether he understood. But he smiled, removed his fingers from between my legs and put them up to his nose and mouth, smelling and licking them, murmuring appreciatively. He lay back on the stone altar and pulled me toward him. I straddled him, my bottom facing his head, and lowered myself onto him. He gripped the top of my thighs and thrust himself into me. My hungry pussy was so wet that it was filled by his thick cock in a glorious rush that took my breath away. As I began to ride him, the satyrs, who had allowed me to reposition myself, took off my dress and resumed their feasting, licking my pussy as I rode up and down the young god’s rigid cock. I raised my arms and put my hands behind my neck to allow the satyrs to lick, suck and fondle my breasts as they bobbed freely in the evening air. I’d never experienced such feelings of desire, lust and joy. I felt free and liberated. I panted, moaned and laughed with carefree abandonment and the satyrs and maenads danced around the altar, drinking, singing and fucking to the mellow sound of lyre and pipes.
The god now gripped my waist as he thrust upward to meet my greedy pussy. Feeling the onset of an orgasm I leaned forward, gripped the horns of a satyr and ground my hips into the god as I felt myself shaking, uncontrollably, with pleasure. The god, remaining inside me, skilfully turned me on to my front and raised my bottom. I rested my face on the warm stone as he fucked me from behind.
I felt several cocks on my head and shoulders and looked up to see the lazy smiles of the satyrs, their cocks swaying, expectantly, in front of me. I pushed myself up onto my hands. They’d feasted on me, now it was my turn to feast on them. I reached out and took a rigid cock in my mouth. It tasted wonderful; fresh and earthy and the moist end had a subtle, sweet taste. I fondled the satyr’s heavy balls and he came. Pearls of semen filled my mouth and the taste was of mild honey. I swallowed, greedily, and was filled with an intense physical pleasure as the satyr juice acted like a sense enhancing drug. I reached for another cock and sucked and licked until it too sprayed me with delicious come. Other satyrs, unable to wait for my mouth, had begun to masturbate and covered me with come which dripped from my skin and my hair and gathered in pools on the stone table.
Maenads, drawn by the satyrs’ nectar, gathered around and licked the juices from my skin and the table. As I continued to feast on satyr cock I felt the god’s thrusts from behind increasing in tempo and power and I responded, pushing my hips back with a similar urgency until my excited pussy felt as though it would explode with pleasure. I enjoyed a long, shuddering orgasm that made me sob with joy. The god’s rhythmic cries now reached a crescendo and he gripped my hips, forcing my bottom tightly against his belly as he cried out and ejaculated. His cock exploded like a shaken bottle of champagne. My pussy was engorged with a tingling effervescence that spread throughout my body, taking me to a higher plane of ecstasy, as though every cell in my body was vibrating with pleasure.
Finished, he eased his cock from me and I lay face down on the stone table, sated and utterly relaxed. He kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. I lay there, listening to the sound of the pipes fade, and I felt the atmosphere changing and, as my energy began to return, I sat up and looked around to see the last of the satyrs disappearing into the trees. Within minutes the silence had returned and I was sitting, alone, on the stone table that was still damp with satyr juice.
My husband is a faithful and attentive lover. He’s given me a lot of pleasure over the years. But a god once made love to me and in that sense I’ve been cursed. I yearn to repeat that experience.
Each year I go back to the island. I still have the marble phallus which I take back with me to the same place. I sit on that stone altar and masturbate, hoping the fragrance of my joy will again attract the attentions of a god and his followers. I hope that one day I can, again, be
truly satyrsfied.
Divorced and in my Forties
by Eva Hore
Divorced. Alone at 45. Doesn’t sound too bad when it’s on paper but to actually be in this position was daunting. All my friends said I should treat myself to a cruise or an organised tour so that’s exactly what I did. I booked a trip to sunny Australia. It was about as far away from Canada that I could get and, right now, that’s exactly where I wanted to be.
Unfortunately the others on the tour were all younger. I didn’t mind so much as I still felt quite young myself. There was one guy, Brad, said he was 30, but I’m sure he was only 25, who kept flirting with me. Well, I certainly didn’t mind the attention even if he was younger and it was good to be sharing the highlights of the trip with someone.
First port of call was Melbourne. They’d booked us on a tour to see some of the highlights around town. We visited the Victoria Market, some old churches, museums, historical monuments and then we were ushered into the Rialto. It’s one of the most recognised buildings in the southern hemisphere. As luck would have it, the lift before us was packed and we entered the next one alone. As soon as the doors swished shut Brad was all over me, lifting my T-shirt and pulling up my bra to devour my breasts.
I was shocked at first, then excited. I’d never done this sort of thing before. My ex-husband had always been so proper. Then Brad’s hand was inside my shorts, sliding over my mound, touching my slit before sinking inside.
It was so exhilarating I could barely breathe and then he pushed away from me, pulled out his cock and told me to suck it. I fell to the floor on my knees, grabbed the shaft and took it deep into my throat. I sucked hard, pumping at the same time. Suddenly he pulled me away, dragged me back up to him and we righted our clothes just in time before the doors opened.
My legs were like jelly. We were both flushed and giggling as we made our way out on to the observation deck. I’ve never felt more alive in my life. We stayed close together after that, pawing at each other at every opportunity we got. We were eager to get back to the hotel. I was sharing a room with Melissa and he was sharing with a guy called Frank. When we arrived back I was disappointed that Melissa was already there but a quick dash across the hall found Brad’s room empty.
I gulped, hesitating for a moment but, as the door shut behind us, we tore of our clothing. Naked, we ran to the bedroom and he threw me onto the bed. I fell with my legs open and he dove down, his hungry mouth devouring me. God, it was heaven to be with someone young and energetic and his tongue did things to me I never thought possible.
His hands were clawing at my breasts while his tongue tantalized my clit. I came in seconds, my juices gushing into his mouth, down his chin and onto the bed. He licked me clean and my body quivered with long overdue sexual hunger.
‘Fuck me,’ I begged.
He rose above me, staring down at my face, then positioned himself between my open thighs. His thumb rubbed hard against my clit and my body shook and arched, my breasts jutting forward, the nipples rigid as another orgasm shook me. I became wild then. Something raw overtook me. I threw him on to his back and straddled him.
His cock sunk deep inside, impaling me, and I ground myself down before rising and slamming back down again. Then, like a woman possessed, I fucked him until all my energy left me and I collapsed, dripping with perspiration onto his chest.
‘My turn,’ he said, rolling me from him and mounting me.
With renewed vigour I wrapped my legs around his back. He lifted me up slightly by the hips, his fingers digging into my cheeks and he began to fuck me rhythmically, faster and faster. I must have come ten times before he finally exploded inside me.
We lay together sated and exhausted.
‘I’d better get back to my room before Frank returns,’ I said. ‘I’d hate him to catch us like this.’
‘Why not wait. Maybe he’ll join us in a threesome,’ he laughed.
‘What?’ I gasped.
‘A threesome. Don’t tell me you’ve never had one?’
‘No, never,’ I blushed scarlet. Was he really suggesting we do that?
‘Never?’ he pried.
‘No. I wouldn’t know where to start.’
He eyed me, watching carefully as he stroked my breasts. The more he stared at me the more excited I became. I wanted to do it. Why not? Others did. I was free now. Why shouldn’t I?
‘Do you want me to tee up a threesome?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Why not? You only live once.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
I gathered my clothes and dressed quickly, not wanting to change my mind. Back in my own room, I locked myself in the bathroom and had a long bath. I touched my breasts, gently pulling at the nipples, remembering how he’d sucked them. Then my fingers trailed downwards, gliding over my swollen nub still sensitive from all the activity. I wondered what it would be like to be made love to by two men at the same time.
I was so turned on that I began to masturbate and, as I did, I fantasized about how it would be. It took me no time to come and then I lay back in the bath allowing the water to wash over me, to relax and ease my tired muscles. I was pleased now that I’d brought along some sexy underwear. I was hoping tonight would be a night to remember.
There’d be no turning back then.
We met for dinner in the dining room. We were allocated specific seating. The tour company would rotate us to make sure we mingled and were able to talk to everyone. I ended up sitting next to the driver, John, and our Aussie tour guide, Frank.
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