Sodomy In Santorini

I first met Soula seven years ago whilst on my way to do archaeological fieldwork at Akrotiri on Santorini. I had caught the Blue Star ferry from Piraeus (Athens Port) via the Greek islands to Santorini.

The whole trip takes about 17 hours and goes via some beautiful islands - Parros, Naxos, & Ios - but takes so long there is not much to do. As the sun set and turned into a balmy, starlit evening, I began to grow restless, and started wandering the decks. I grabbed a beer from the bar and stood by the railing watching the sun slowly sink away.

after a while I strolled around to the aft-deck where there was a large concentration of people sitting, standing, and laying around, chatting, drinking, and eating - the little aft-deck cafe was selling freshly cooked gyros for which there was a long queue.

As I scanned the crowd out of boredom as much as anything, Soula immediately caught and kept my eye. Her golden brown Greek skin, and lustrous thick black curls that cascaded over her shoulders and midway down her back, contrasted dramatically with the pure white bikini and sarong that she wore on the deck that first time I had seen her.

I knew she had caught me staring at her curves, barely contained by the skimpy bikini as the were. Occasionally, she would deliberately just catch my gaze briefly, before turning away.

After a few moments I realised I was obviously staring, and half-pretended to turn away. I took a few sips of my beer before curiosity made me turn back towards her, but she was gone. I got myself another beer and headed back to my cabin.

The next time I saw her was the next day, as the ferry entered into the grand caldera of Santorini volcano, and slowed towards the small cluster of buildings at the base of steep cliffs that is the Santorini ferry port of Ormos Athinos.

I saw her several metres in front of me through the crowd as people milled about the car deck, waiting to get off as we neared the pier.

Now dressed more conservatively in walking boots, khaki shorts, a loose-fitting white long sleeve cotton shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a straw sun hat, she had a simple medium sized backpack.

The crowd was too dense for me to get near her, and as we berthed I watched her clear the vessel, make her way across to a waiting car which departed quickly up the steep road to the left.

I was being picked up by a mini bus sent from the hotel in which I was staying, so took much longer to clear the port.

The weather was steaming hot and the mini bus ride was not altogether pleasant, but the sight of the hotel quickly cheered me up. It was located at the far end of the island from where I would be working at Akrotiri, at a small town called Oia. There was obvious earthquake damaged buildings everywhere, but for the most part it was charming old-world Greece, with white washed walls everywhere and blue roofs to compliment. I had been assured by the Archaeology department the hotel was well worth the commute, as it sat at the north-western tip of the caldera, and was situated perfectly to watch the sunset.

The hotel clung to the cliff-edges, and had an infinity pool that seemed to melt into the sea. I had the weekend to settle in before I started work, so I took a taxi to a scooter hire place to get myself a scooter, then grabbed a bite in the hotel restaurant before spending the afternoon in the pool. During the evening I rode up to Thira, the main town on the island and started exploring a bit. After grabbing a few beers in an amazing bar overlooking the caldera, I headed back to the hotel to catch some sleep.

By the second day, I had gone out onto the pool deck around the mid-morning following some breakfast.

There was Soula lounging on a sun bed by the pool. The same barely-there pure white bikini contrasting with her even deeper tan.

I tried smiling at her. Eventually she returned my smile with one of her own. I tried to figure out if she was accompanying anyone or not, but it didn't seem so.

I began to wonder if maybe she was interested, and realised I was standing by the pool staring at her like an idiot. I sat down on a lounger on the opposite corner of the pool. After about 10 minutes of sitting comfortably on the sun longer, she suddenly got up and walked towards me. Sitting down on the lounger next to me, she looked directly at me.

"The shy guy from the ferry huh?" She said.

"You saw me staring then?" I meekly relied.

She just gave me a bemused half-smile.

"So, I guess you're not the kind of alpha male that actually goes up to a girl he likes and hits on her, huh?"

"I , er..."

Her confrontation had taken me by surprise.

"It's okay. I quite like guys that need to be taken in hand and told what to do...", she said, flirtatiously.

"No, it's not like that, I was..."

"What? building dramatic tension?", she interrupted. "Because after two days of you staring at my tits and arse, I had an idea of what you were thinking.

I blushed and looked down.

Without realising it, she had already established a strange sort of dominance over me, and she knew it. We spent a few hours chatting together by the pool, getting to know each other a little better, before sharing lunch, and then in the blazing afternoon sun, sharing a couple of cooling cocktails.

She was single, Athenian, and was on the island unwinding after a long semester teaching Classical history at Athens University. I had told her I was a PhD Student in Archaeology, studying the exciting topic of Bronze Age art and alphabet. She had seemed genuinely interested in my research

With a few drinks under our skins, we got a bit more adventurous and flirty, and by that evening we had started to hit it off. After watching the most amazing sunset together, as the orange ball of the sun melted into the Aegean Sea, we shared one last drink and said goodnight to each other with a friendly but frustrating kiss on the cheek.

The next day I rode off to find my contact from the Ministry of Culture and got shown around the excavation site of Akrotiri. They took me to the archaeology museum in Thira, and provided me with a temporary desk where I could work for the next two weeks during my fieldwork. I got given a pass to come and go at the museum and excavation site as I pleased, and began my research viewing pottery, frescoes and examples of Linear A alphabet.

It was hard to concentrate on my research, as I sat staring out of the window at the magnificent view of the caldera and whitewashed walls of Thira, all I could think of was how Soula had smelled of an alluring mixture of wild flower scented oil...

Viewing various ceramic objects from the collections - skyphos, kraters and amphorae, their red and black figures all seemed to take my mind back to the figure of Soula by the pool in that skimpy white bikini, her ample curves barely contained...

As the end of the day neared I could barely get out fast enough. Stopping for a quick beer around the corner in an Irish-themed bar, I grabbed the Scooter, and rattled along back to the hotel.

Soula was sitting in a soft blue sarong-dress by the bar, casually sipping an ouzo as I walked in.

"Been thinking about me all day?" She asked, before I even had a chance to say hello.

"I, er..."

"Tell the truth!" she demanded sharply.

"I have to admit I have," I replied sheepishly.

"Good. Now sit down and buy me a drink..."

For the next few nights we chatted, joked, ate and drank, and enjoyed taking a few evening walks together just exploring different parts of the island that I would take her to on my scooter. As our Greek adventure progressed I felt a growing attraction to this intellectual Greek beauty.

One night after sharing too much retsina, I tried to kiss her, but she suddenly shied away. I asked what I had done wrong, but she simply said she loved my company, and was attracted to me but she didn't want to hurt me, as she felt I was too innocent for her.

That hurt me a bit... How did she dare to think she knew me?

I didn't see her for the next two nights, and when I did, she was at the hotel bar with three very tall, muscular, tanned men. I shot her a jealous look from the other end of the bar, and placed myself down there, ordering a Mythos.

She had left me feeling hurt and confused.

The next day I lay by the pool at the villa, too depressed to be bothered going into the museum.

Soula caught sight of me by the pool, and gave me a strange, almost guilty look as she stared for a moment, before joining her new friends in the reception as they prepared to go off on a day trip together.

I began to drown my sorrows, and must have passed out by the pool, as when I next came around, it was early evening, and my head buzzed. As I awoke, I caught the familiar scent of floral perfume, and became aware of Soula sitting in the lounger next to me. I rolled towards her.

She was laying on her side, facing towards me with her top leg bent, foot flat on the lounger, making the bulging curved mound of her crotch obscenely obvious.

"Wow, you must have gotten drunk, you've been asleep for hours,"

I just stared trying to shake the haze.

"I guess I did get under your skin!" She mocked.

I rolled over away from her in annoyance.

"Don't be such a sensitive sissy!" She snapped! "A real man wouldn't get so iffy about it, he'd do something about it..." she trailed off.

After a few seconds waiting for me to react and me doing nothing. She stool, walked over to me, grabbed my hand and dragged me to my feet.

"Come on." She ordered.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"My room of course, stupid."

We had barely gotten into her room and closed the door, when she turned towards me and undid her bikini top revealing her taut 36C breasts which we just as tanned as her toned abs.

She paused for a second staring at my reaction. I consciously thought about whether or not I was drooling. she was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever seen naked.

Carefully sliding each of her thumbs under the hip strings of her bikini bottoms, she ever so slowly rolled them down her thighs, kicking them off.

My eyes were instantly drawn to her obviously moist and aroused sex. Also perfectly tanned, her mound was only shaved up to her bikini line, the rest was thick unshaven bush. Her mons and outer labia were plump and full and looked puffy compared with the rest of her taut muscular body.

Her lips were already open and moist, jutted out from through her thick public hair, but I just stood there staring at her perfect body like a rabbit in headlights.

She lay down backward onto her bed, placing the soles of her feet on the bed, and bending her knees, her legs spread open, so her pussy was facing me invitingly.

I quickly undressed and lowered myself on top of her, kissing her passionately with my tongue. I kissed along the side of neck, down to her breasts, twisting and twirling her nipples with my tongue, eliciting a moan.

"Come on, Fuck me," she urged.

Although my heart and mind desired it more than anything else, my body betrayed me, refusing to become erect.

"Come on," she cooed, and began stroking my dick with her hand, trying to get me hard, and gently kissing my neck as she did so.

I didn't know if it was the alcohol from before or something else, but I just couldn't get hard.

After a while of trying, Soula gave up.

"I thought as much. Not man enough!" she teased.

"But it's okay," she assured me, gently stroking my cheek, "like I said before, I quite like guys that need to be taken in hand and told what to do."

"So, if your cock isn't going to please me, your tongue is. Get down between my legs, and you had better make it good after disappointing me with your pathetic little cock!"

I found her stinging words actually turning me on. I lowered myself so I could reach her pussy with my mouth, carefully parting her thick fur with my hands, I began kissing, nibbling, and licking her first her outer lips, then her inner lips, and finally I began teasing her clit. Her fluids tasted amazing.

She began rocking her hips into my face. After a while she began moaning softly, then loader, building into a crescendo as she came on my mouth. Juices flooded out of her as she humped my face, letting out a guttural, deep moan, as I tried my best to swallow it all.

Afterwards we cuddled on the bed for a while, chatting about Greek history, Santorini and our work.

Suddenly she propped herself up on one elbow, and playing with my hair with her fingers, asked: "Do you know what is Greek sex?"

"Anal, right?" I replied.

"Yes. have you ever done it?" she asked.

"I've tried it with a few girls..." I replied coolly, not wanting to return to the topic of my unreliable erections.

"And what about men?", she asked straight away, obviously dismissing my answer.

"No! I am not gay!" I splurged, almost too defensively.

"Ah, so you don't know what is Greek sex..."

"I just said?", I asked, confused.

"You remember I told you my PhD was on ancient Greek sexuality?" she said.

"Yes".

"Well one of my arguments was to prove Greek sex, or anal penetration, as you simply reduce it to, was more than gay sex - it was an important power play between people - a consummation acknowleding the physicality of their social relationship."

I stared blankly.

she looked at me annoyed that I didn't seem to be following.

"when a woman gives up her arse to a man, she is normally saying to that man, 'I admire and am turned on by your dominance so much I will let you take me in my most private orifice. I will let you pleasure yourself any way you wish to with my body'. It is an extension to the feminine submissive sexuality that many women already exhibit".

"Many women, myself included deride direct physical pleasure from being fucked in the arse, but it is also about the power, you must want the man to exert his sexual power over you."

"In ancient Greece, it was the same between men - even straight men. You didn't need to be genetically or psychologically gay to submit yourself to a more powerful superior."

"So Greek sex between men isn't about gay sex - although it could be, but more importantly it's about acknowledging another man as your social superior, wanting, desiring him to own and dominate you, and accepting that you are subordinate to him in every way, even if you are straight. And in many cases, ensuring that it is publically known you are owned by him."

"This is why it is very common in the warrior culture - junior warriors want to be acknowledged by heroes, by proven veterans, their superiors, to submit physically means he respects you enough to allow you near him, despite his superior warrior skills. It suggests he believes one day you might grow worthy of being by his side."

"So that's what I meant when I told you I was too much for you - as much as I like you, maybe even more, I am most turned on by men who can accept their true inner sexual role in the ancient Greek sense, straight or not. I have studied ancient sexuality so much I need to be with men who live in accordance to that ancient style sexuality - be they dominant or submissive, but in touch with themselves, and I just don't think that is you. Also, just like many men get off on lesbian sex, I get off on watching two men using Greek sex to properly establish their hierarchy, but it just feels like you couldn't get over your British reservedness and do that for me..."

She left the last sentence trailing...

"Soula, I want to be with you so badly, I would do anything to be with you...", I found myself saying without thinking.

"Are you sure you know what you are saying?"

"Yes."

A day later, as the sun famously dipped below the ocean at Oia, the soft white curtains billowed in the open windows of her hotel room, and Soula, clad only in her bikini top, gently rubbed her clit through her thick, unshaved bush, staring intently at us as Yiannis loomed over my naked body. His chiseled, Adonis-like frame was obviously stronger anymore powerful than my own.

Yiannis was one of the three men I had seen Soula with in the hotel a few days before. They had recently arrived from nearby Mykonos which is famous for its gay sex party scene.

His thick, 9 inch cock hovered above my spread, lubricated cheeks, held apart by both of my hands, as I lay flat on my tummy, staring at Soula's incredibly wet, gaping pussy. God how I wanted to taste it again - so much so I would literally do anything, and was about to.

'Beg him to own you...', she purred.

'Please Yiannis, I need to be yours, I said, looking over my shoulder deeply into his eyes as she had previously instructed.

"Mmmm", I heard her purring.

'More!', she added. "I love that you are willing to go Greek to please me!"

'You don't sound like you're that desperate, slut', Yiannis taunted.

'God Yiannis, I need you to fuck my arse!' I virtually pleaded.

With that he drove his long, thick, Brown cock deeply into my tight rear.

"Awwwwwww!" I moaned, feeling a burst of pain and pleasure at the same time as he stretched me open. I had never been penetrated in the rear before, and despite the copious lube, his huge cock stretched me in ways I had never felt before.

"Mmmmm," Soula moaned even more loudly, wanking her pussy furiously now.

"How does it feel to submit to a real man's cock in your arse?" She teased, but I was unable to reply, biting down on the pillow to stop myself from squealing like a girl.

Soon though, my muscles began to relax, and get used to the intrusion. Yiannis began to work his organ in and out rhythmically and I surprised myself as I instinctively began to press back, beginning to enjoy it.

"Ha! Soula, you were right, this little slut enjoys it!" Yiannis teased.

He reached around, tweaking my nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through my body. He spanked my arse, sending jolts of pleasure through my nether regions.

His cock felt as if it was swelling and growing even bigger, stretching my arse in ways it had never been opened before. I looked across at Soula, who was staring directly at me, her left hand pinching and twisting her nipples, her right hand with three fingers buried deeply in her pussy, and furiously working them in and out of her dripping snatch. I could hear them sloshing and slurping as they worked in and out of her sodden hole.

Yiannis gripped my hips in both hands and began to drive in and out more furiously now, building up a heady tempo. I tried to match his strokes, squeezing tighter as he thrust and releasing to allow his withdrawal more easily.

"That's it, bitch! Milk my cock with your slut-arse!"

His cockhead was rocking back and forth across my prostate, and it was sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My cock was finally hard - something Soula's beautiful pussy had failed to make it become, and it began rocking back and forth of its own accord as he thrust in and out.

My ball sack - tiny in comparison to that of the giant dangling balls belonging to the chiseled specimen sodomising my anus, was tight and pulsed.

I tried to reach between my legs and jerk my own cock, but Yiannis realised what I was doing and yanked my hand away.

"You'll come just from your arse little fuck-bitch!" he ordered.

He located my prostate with his bulbous cock-head and focused on it with short localised strokes, which were too much for me. Easily lifting me slightly off the bed with one arm under my torso, he had me at a diagonal with just my knees touching the edge of the bed. My little erection bobbing out in front of me, as I faced Soula. She was frantically bringing herself through a series of orgasms as Yiannis's cock brought me over the edge, I began spurting out into thin air in front of me, coming purely from the arse fucking I was receiving without any contact to my cock.