The Summer of Aphrodite

by Viva Jones

  She returned to her Spider Solitaire. At least Barry wouldn’t cost much.

  ***

  Nathalie returned to Fig Tree Villas just before midday, having spent the morning browsing the market in Paphos and exploring a couple of back streets she’d stumbled upon. Everywhere presented a new adventure, a fascinating discovery. Today it had been a little church, yesterday it was a courtyard garden with a tantalizing display of potted succulents.

  She spotted Anna through the upstairs window, her brow furrowed in concentration, and beckoned.

  ‘Come and have lunch?’ she suggested, once Anna appeared. ‘I just picked up a few things at the market. I’ve spent so much time sorting the villa out, I’d love some company.’

  Anna’s face broke into a smile. ‘As a matter of fact, we have some very nice white in the fridge,’ she said. ‘Let me grab a bottle.’

  Inside Nathalie’s villa, as she sorted her purchases, Anna admired her living room. In it were two taupe sofas, each with its own cream throw, facing each other across an Indian door-turned-coffee table. At the far end stood a glass dining table with matching wrought-iron chairs, and there were Asian paintings on the walls - Chinese silk flowers and birds, Indian lovers in palace grounds, elephants and tigers, and Buddhist monks collecting alms. The mantelpiece and a shelving unit were adorned with a reclining Buddha, various vases, candles and carved African figures adding colour and drama.

  ‘You’ve made it look wonderful,’ Anna exclaimed, taking it all in. ‘How on earth did you manage, you’ve only been here a couple of weeks?’

  Nathalie joined her. ‘Once I start something I can’t stop until it’s finished.’ She handed Anna a glass. ‘Do you mind if we have a picnic upstairs? Only I love the terrace up there. Unbroken views and you’re not overlooked.’

  Carrying a tray, she led Anna upstairs to her bedroom, which was all white, with billowing curtains framing the blue of the sky and sea beyond. ‘I don’t even bother closing the French windows,’ she admitted. ‘It feels so safe around here.’

  Anna followed her onto the terrace, where there was a smaller wrought-iron table and two chairs, and several geranium-filled pots. On the table was a small vase full of sweet peas, picked from the complex gardens, and a bowl of pot pourri scented with bois de rose, geranium and grapefruit.

  ‘Isn’t the view gorgeous?’ Nathalie asked, setting out platters of olives and octopus salad, of fresh bread, green salads and cold meats. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever tire of it. That must be Aphrodite’s birthplace, right there. I swim there every morning, just as the sun’s rising. I love the sensation of the water against my skin. It feels like a caress. Aphrodite’s Caress, there you go. It feels like she’s out there, her essence, making me free.’

  Anna was aware that under her flimsy summer dress, Nathalie was naked. She could make out the outline of her breasts, and the gentle darkness of her nipples. For a second she wanted to take a nipple in her mouth, to feel it against her lips, her tongue, her teeth.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot. This is for you.’ Nathalie reached for a small bottle she’d left beside the window. ‘Essential oils, they’re a hobby of mine. Lemon, orange, bergamot and a little sandalwood. I see you every day slumped over your computer, and a couple of drops of this in a diffuser will counter all those negative ions.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Anna opened the bottle and took a deep breath. ‘It smells divine.’ Embarrassed by her own desire, she stared out at the view. ‘You mentioned your ex earlier,’ she started cautiously. ‘You’re not lonely here?’

  Nathalie shook her head. ‘I’m good on my own. My marriage, my life, it all became so incredibly stifling.’

  ‘I’m finding Cyprus stifling these days,’ Anna admitted. ‘I no longer see its beauty, or its romance. I see drunken, sunburnt tourists, average restaurants, a built-up coastline and miles of scorched, arid earth.’ She raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘You just need inspiration.’ Nathalie leant towards Anna and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. ‘You need joy in your life, let go a little. Once it gets cooler, why don’t we explore the island together? Take the odd day trip, find hidden little villages where they make handicrafts? Have picnics or discover unspoilt restaurants?’

  Anna was surprised at Nathalie’s generosity. ‘I’d like that. I spend too much time in front of that damned machine.’

  ‘How is your book coming along?’

  ‘It’s not. I have a new project.’

  She explained her plans for Richard’s party as they helped themselves to the array of foods. As they ate and drank, their conversation became more open and filled with laughter.

  ‘So you’re only throwing this party because you wanted to contact your ex?’

  ‘I know, talk about a moment of madness. But don’t you ever think about yours? Don’t you wonder what he’s doing, or who he’s doing it with?’

  Nathalie just shook her head.

  ‘I know it’s pointless, but I can’t help myself. He was the one who really broke my heart. After him Richard was so easy, so stress-free. Comfortable.’

  ‘He seems like a good man.’

  ‘A polite way of saying dull.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. He’s there for you; he loves you.’

  Anna sipped her wine. ‘When Richard and I first met, we had a good sex life. Nothing wild or abandoned, but it was loving and tender and it fulfilled me. After the rollercoaster I’d been on with James, I really thought I’d found everything I needed.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘We got married. He changed that day. Even as I walked down the aisle, I could see it in his eyes. Something had happened. He withdrew into himself. Sank into this terrible depression. That’s when he asked for a transfer, and we ended up coming here. And since then, sex has been rare, not very good, and he usually loses his erection half way.’

  ‘Any idea what it was that happened?’

  Anna shook her head, embarrassed to have divulged that much. ‘He wouldn’t tell me. I suggested everything: counselling, a shrink, anti-depressives, but he wouldn’t hear of any of it. He’s just retreated into his shell.’ She took a sad sip of wine. ‘You’re the first person I’ve told this to,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not sure I even love him any more, though God knows what I’d do without him. I can’t bear the idea of being on my own again, starting up again. I’m not like you. I’m a coward.’

  ‘You’re not a coward. You’re just in a dark hole and you need someone to help you out of it. Let that someone be me. Let’s explore together, let’s have some fun. And who knows, if Richard sees you enjoying your life, he might be more inclined to open up to you?’

  Anna laughed bitterly. ‘You mean as opposed to being the a bitch that I usually am?’

  ‘If he’s shut you out, then you need to start putting yourself first. Perhaps it’s time to be selfish?’

  As she leant forward, the V-neck of her dress hung low, and once again Anna made out the curve of her breasts inside. ‘I’m a little tipsy,’ Anna started apologetically. ‘But I have this terrible urge to touch your breasts.’

  Nathalie just smiled. ‘Then why don’t you?’

  Anna placed a hesitant hand past the material and onto Nathalie’s skin, cupping a breast. Their faces reached towards each other and their lips were joined, tenderly at first but becoming more urgent, tongues probing, their hands exploring each other’s breasts and the form of their bodies. Nathalie began unbuttoning Anna’s blouse, releasing her breasts from her bra, then she dived down to lick and suck on her nipples.

  Anna gasped as the sensation of Nathalie’s tongue sent a shockwave through her body which reached straight down to her clit. She tore off her blouse and bra and revelled in being half naked in the sun, with this beautiful woman who was kissing her breasts, her throat and her mouth.

  �
��Let’s go inside, we’ll be more comfortable,’ Nathalie urged, taking Anna by the hand and leading her to the bed. There, she pulled off her dress and stood naked before her.

  Anna hesitated, before unfastening her skirt and letting it drop to the floor. ‘I’ve never done this before,’ she said.

  ‘I have,’ Nathalie said with a smile. She held out her hands and took Anna’s, and led her onto the bed, easing her down gently. ‘Just let me do what I want, and then see how you feel,’ she whispered, stroking her, teasing her, kissing her with gentle nips of her lips and tongue. She climbed on top of her friend, knees on either side of her body, kissing her breasts, kissing down to her bellybutton, licking the salt off her hot body. Once she reached Anna’s knickers, she pulled them down, easily and gently, and tossed them to the floor. Then she sank her head down and pulled Anna’s thighs open. She started with smooth, gentle licks to her clitoris, then with her thumbs she opened her pussy lips and began probing deeper, taking longer and more luxurious licks, channelling her, finding the real Anna within, the woman who was unloved and misunderstood. As Anna’s breath began to quicken and she started letting out appreciative moans, so Nathalie kept the pressure on, flicking and sucking her clit, while plunging two fingers inside her moist cunt. She knew where to press, and as Anna rose to greet her, she kept up the persuasive action of her tongue, coaxing her to orgasm. As Anna began to cry out, ‘Oh God, I’m coming,’ she reached for Nathalie’s hair, stroking her but keeping her tongue pressed firmly on her clit as her juices poured out like warm lava, soaking Nathalie in her sweetness.

  ‘That was incredible,’ she gasped between breaths. ‘I mean, I can’t remember when I last ... I have to lick you now. I want to taste you so badly.’

  Nathalie rose up and climbed on top of Anna, so that her pussy was just above her face.

  ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Anna whispered, taking the image in, as Nathalie lowered herself down.

  Anna held her thighs in each hand and began to lick Nathalie’s pussy, using shy, tentative movements at first, but as she grew accustomed to its taste and texture, so she began to go deeper, further, as if Nathalie was the sea and Anna’s tongue an explorer, becoming braver and more intrigued with every movement.

  Nathalie gasped as Anna’s tongue set her clit alight, as her fingers stretched open her buttocks, reaching towards her cunt. When one finger started delving inside her, she lowered herself to meet it, and another finger met the rim of her arse-hole, just as Anna’s tongue hit on her clit, and Nathalie forced herself down, as if soaking all of Anna up inside her, absorbing her, taking her over, and as she came she pounded on her face, streaking her with her juices, pushing and pressing and pounding until her orgasm had finally passed.

  The two women lay next to each other, breathlessly, for several minutes, before either spoke.

  ‘Tell me that wasn’t a one off,’ Anna whispered. ‘Tell me we’ll do that again.’

  Nathalie rolled over to one side and studied her new lover. ‘We’ll do it again,’ she whispered. ‘And again, and again, and again. Every day, twice a day, as often as we like.’

  ‘I still want to be with Richard. I need that security, I won’t pretend that I don’t.’

  ‘Just be happy. I’m not a threat to your marriage.’

  ‘God, I think I’m in-love.’

  They giggled, and spent the afternoon in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  At the Tiggles Rescue Centre, Ginnie was feeling disheartened. Two of the cats that had recently come in had feline aids, and the vet was advising they be put down. She knew in her heart it was the right thing to do, but still Ginnie cried inside. She cried at the injustice of it all - because no one bothered to neuter their toms numerous stray kittens were born; because loads of stray toms were wandering about the place they had to fight to maintain their territory; and because in those fights they inevitably swapped blood and saliva, feline aids was rampant.

  ‘We need a public awareness campaign,’ she sobbed to Nigel, the centre’s founder. ‘Adverts, incentives, that kind of thing.’

  ‘What a brilliant idea,’ said Nigel. ‘Why has nobody else thought of that? Let’s just do it then, shall we? After all, we’ve got so much spare money sploshing about and I’d been wondering how to spend it.’

  Ginnie looked up from the ginger and white tom she’d been stroking. Although she knew him to be a good man, Nigel had an abrasive edge she didn’t always appreciate. ‘A benefactor, or a sponsor, then,’ she went on, determined to make her point. ‘Someone who’d care about them as much as we do.’

  ‘And there are so many around, after all.’ Nigel raised his arms to clasp his hands around his head, revealing two sweaty armpits. ‘That should be a breeze. I’ll make a couple of calls and it’ll all be sorted within minutes.’

  ‘Nigel, sometimes I think you can be a bit defeatist. We’re as good as putting a band-aid on a broken leg here. But the leg needs surgery. We need to - ‘

  ‘You’re such a blue sky thinker, Ginnie.’ Nigel cut her off. ‘While all I need around here are volunteers to feed the inmates and clean out their litter trays. Strategic types like you are wasted on us.’

  ‘Are you saying you want me out?’ Ginnie’s hand tightened on the ginger tom’s fur.

  ‘I’m saying, Tiggles is what Tiggles is. And this island has its limitations. Now, say goodbye to Orpheus and go and make yourself a cup of tea.’

  Ginnie stroked the ginger and white tom for the last time, big fat tears beginning to splash down her cheeks. In her mind all sorts of mad ideas were racing: she could take them both, snatch them away from the vet and keep them somewhere near home; at least feed them every day. But then that would just spread yet more aids, she told herself gloomily. And as there was no cure, prevention was better than nothing at all.

  She left the room, tears now streaming down her face. She thought she might have hardened to it by now. She’d seen enough cats being put to sleep and picked enough dead bodies off the road, giving them solemn funerals in the bit of scrubland beyond the bins at Fig Tree Villas, to have grown accustomed to it all by now. Why did it still hurt so much? And why did no one else seem to care?

  She liked Nigel and his wife Trisha well enough, but felt they were too bogged down in the short-term. Nigel just didn’t want to face the big picture, when he should be out there, bullying people to raise funds. Nigel wasn’t the type, she’d realised a while ago. He just didn’t have it in him. In the tiny kitchen behind the office, Ginnie made herself some tea, as advised. She’d cut back on her alcohol intake since her episode with Douglas and was feeling quite pleased with herself. She wasn’t the dependent type after all; she was a strong, capable woman who could make things happen. And this was her challenge. As Nigel clearly wasn’t on board with her suggestions, Ginnie would be the one to do something; she could be the dynamic one, the one to persuade corporate Cyprus to get involved.

  The idea took grip and refused to go away. A sponsor, she mused as she started on the afternoon feed. Who, with money, would want to neuter cats? And what kind of business might get behind the cause? A cat food company, she wondered, spooning some food into a bowl. Cat litter? Ginnie yelped as Humphrey the tabby scratched her hand in his excitement to get at the crunchy nibbles. She watched as a thin trace of blood appeared, but stroked his head affectionately anyway. It wasn’t his fault.

  She’d do a thorough internet search that evening, Ginnie decided, beginning to get excited. She’d find them a sponsor if it was the last thing she did. She was a passionate, driven woman and she wasn’t going to stop for anyone.

  If she didn’t meet a man soon, life would be very unfair indeed.

  ***

  Yannakis had asked Tanya to follow up on all recent internet requests that afternoon, and as she did so, she couldn’t help but look down at the bags tucked under her desk in
excitement. She’d bought the sandals she loved, and had even splashed out on a new handbag, too! Her car was being fixed, but something told her that if things carried on this way she’d soon be able to buy a replacement. Her commissions would take a while to come through, but now she seemed to have stumbled upon some “extra revenue”, as Dolores had called it, her prospects were looking pretty bright. And for what? For lying there while he huffed and puffed for a couple of minutes on top of her. Was that really how much sex meant to some men? Tanya didn’t feel any shame, because it had been all so meaningless. It was no more intimate than having her teeth cleaned.

  Her mobile rang and there was the familiar voice. ‘Tanya, my dear, you are free to spend some time with me this evening?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ she told him, fighting back any anxiety she felt over their arrangement. She was doing nothing wrong, she kept telling herself.

  This was survival.

  ***

  Anna returned to her own villa a new woman. Her skin felt soft and silky, having been massaged for much of the afternoon with a mixture of Nathalie’s soothing oils: ground almond, evening primrose and sandalwood, she seemed to remember. This had been their third afternoon together, but now she had to last a whole weekend without. She ached to be away from Nathalie, but the memories lingered vividly in her mind, and would keep her going until Monday.

  She sat at her laptop with renewed enthusiasm. Suddenly everything seemed possible. She even wanted to cook Richard a decent meal! They had chicken in the freezer, she remembered. She’d cook it in some Middle Eastern way, with saffron rice. She’d open another bottle of that delicious wine and sip it later that evening, remembering how it tasted on her lover’s nipples. How she ached to delve her tongue inside her folds again, how passionately she wanted to insert her fingers in Nathalie’s cunt. Anna felt renewed, as if her life to this point had been lived in an underground cage, and now she was free to explore and experience.