Petaloudes

Petaloudes (Greek): Valley of the Butterflies

Old Rhodes town is beautiful and ancient, predating the Roman empire, and although much of it has been lost and has decayed over the years, enough remains to preserve a sense of the history and culture that comprised the Greek civilisation.

New Rhodes town is somewhat less so, mainly for tourists who want to drink too much and party noisily till dawn, sleeping the morning away then play Russian roulette with the ultraviolet on the beach all afternoon. Nothing against that personally, just not my thing.

I'd previously spent a week on the delightful island of Simi which typified the Greek way of life and had essentially remained unchanged for centuries, with some residents never even having ventured off the island all their lives. Being only 25 square miles in area it comprises mountainous regions and a main port, with a central upper town, and various smaller settlements mainly on the coast. A meal with more courses than I could count could be had for five dollars and the beaches of yellow sand contrasted with the crystal clear blue ocean, basically a paradise island albeit in a quiet and idyllic way.

You strolled slowly about the island, the only way as it was so hot. Life was easy and everything moved in a chaotically organised way, for instance how was it possible to transport a family of five on a moped? Yet it happened all the time. Why were most new buildings unfinished? Because you only paid taxes on a house when it was completed hence the top story was usually left with iron reinforcing struts sticking out of an unbuilt structure. Simple! But it had worked for hundreds, probably thousands of years and that is how the good people of Simi lived.

Another oddity was that you couldn't put toilet paper down the lavatory as the drainage system was built by Britain decades ago and was narrow bore hence loo tissue would block it up. So you placed it in a little bin and it was collected each morning by the hotel staff. I gave up trying to figure out why these quaint customs had not been modernised then decided it was not my place to worry about such things and just enjoyed my time there.

Sitting on a jetty in the evening warmth eating a delicious seafood salad washed down with dry wine and with the waves lapping a few feet from my toes was one of the memories I'll always keep. As was the long trek to this restaurant which was apparently recommended by just about everyone. When I arrived it looked like a transport cafe and the owner welcomed me with a cockney accent. What was going on? However the food was heavenly and as near as possible to a culinary orgasm on this earth. Turned out he was schooled in London where he learnt his trade and inherited the establishment from his parents. It's a funny old world and smaller than one would expect.

So totally relaxed and with the beginning of a nice tan I took the ferry across to the island of Rhodes and arrived in the town of the same name. Not wanting the noise and crowds of the new area I stayed in a traditional inn, The Karpenski, that was situated in a delightful old street in Rhodes Old Town. Run by a lovely lady called Kyria (Greek for Mrs) Cirillo, it was spotlessly clean and seemed like an oasis or sanctuary of order in a town of traditional and crumbling stonework. Meals were provided but if you wanted to eat out that was not a problem and new bedding and towels were provided every day. There were no problems with the plumbing and showers were more like waterfalls that you really needed after a day walking around Rhodes' dusty streets and avenues.

Central to the town was the fountain, not only impressive but the cool spray welcome in the heat of the day. Overlooking the plaza was a world famous restaurant, yes eating figured heavily on my daily itinerary and again it specialised in seafood, to which I have no complaints. Think it took me most of the afternoon to digest the volume of lobster and prawns and it served the only starter I've ever had with baby octopus (octopi?).

The medieval part of the town was amazing and so atmospheric. Statues adorned every square and street as did geometrical objects from spheres to pyramidal obelisks. Whether they symbolised anything in particular I don't know (although I'm sure they represented some great thinker's philosophical musings) but the whole experience made one more contemplative, less inclined to rush through life, caused me to stop and think, if only for a moment. Wondering how many thousands of years ago did people first walk these avenues and stand in the plazas discussing great and deep things, I became very much aware of my place in the universe. Feeling small but not insignificant, humble yet not unimportant, I returned to my inn with a different outlook and obviously a new expression on my face as Kyria Cirillo commented: 'You've been to the medieval section haven't you?'

I smiled and confirmed I had, she said that it was good for everyone to visit such a place at least once, as a reminder there are higher things in this world and perhaps that helps us to face the ordinariness of everyday life. I remembered her words as I visited the Byzantine harbour, the Acropolis and the Cathedral. Especially in the Knight's Street did I feel myself more than what I had previously considered to be. Was there part of us that was perhaps eternal and were we all connected, the human race, by history and destiny? All sounds like very deep stuff, just trying to describe my state of mind at this time and the way this place was affecting me.

But from the profound to the mundane, some personal stuff: Mandy Binton, age 25, 5'5" tall with a medium curvy build, long brown hair, pretty rather than beautiful and my friends tell me my best asset is my laugh. First holiday by myself after earning enough to put a deposit down on an apartment, solely attracted to women and not currently in a relationship. All sounds rather ordinary but that's who I am and quite happy to be so. The fact that this place was far from ordinary made it different, and special.

One thing remained which I had not seen, something mysterious called The Valley of the Butterflies (Petaloudes in Greek). Sounded intriguing so I booked a place on the tour and arrived at the pickup point around 2 in the afternoon. Small buses took us in a group of between fifty and a hundred visitors and parked in a clearing before the start of the valley, leaving quite a walk ahead of us.

Quite a transition really, one moment you're in the bright sunshine and the next you're in another world. Imagine something out of Jurassic Park, primeval, untouched by human encroachment apart from some wooden bridges to cross the stream that meandered along the valley floor. Just as warm inside the valley forest, it was humid and the air felt thicker. Not stifling or oppressive, just more dense, wrapping itself around you in an all enveloping embrace.

Not dark or light it seemed to generate illumination of its own, although that was clearly impossible but that's the impression it produced. An ecosystem all to itself, a microcosm of nature in one perfect valley. And so quiet apart from the gentle trickling of water through the central stream. The forest grew on the shores of the stream and up the steep banks surrounding the many pools along its length. Trees and plants of multitudinous varieties, moss and lichens, roots and climbers, as though someone had painted a picture of an ideal environment and it had come to life here in this place. Sometimes the sound of a small waterfall politely punctuated the cloying quietness, yet walk just a short distance away and the heavy silence returns as though the forest was barely able to tolerate the intrusion.

We walked slowly along the natural paths and across the roughly hewn wooden bridges, footing was far from sure and fast movement was inadvisable in these temperatures. Single file was kept until a small clearing where we stopped to look at a spectacular display of colour created by a combination of the sun refracting through the water in a pool and the naturally forming underwater moss and lichen on the riverbed. When we started off again I found myself behind a tall blonde girl with the most gorgeous figure. Almost tripping and falling more than once because I was looking at her ass instead of the path, the sound of me stumbling caused her to turn round and catch me before I fell. I know she saw me staring at her behind and she smiled, hopefully in appreciation of my admiration.

Halting again for pictures to be taken of a particularly beautiful clearing where wild flowers grew and the sun's passage through the branches of the trees cast psychedelic patterns on the water and along the valley sides, I struck up a conversation with my rescuer, the owner of the remarkable bottom. Can't remember who spoke first, some remark about the flowers or the heat or...well it doesn't really matter. As girls do, we exchanged comments about anything and everything while offering some openings but respecting each other's boundaries.

The rest of the hike was all the more enjoyable for her company and eventually we arrived at the large clearing in the valley where the majority of the butterflies lived. The guide informed us they were a species of Jersey Tiger Moth and it was impossible to tell but there seemed like millions of them. They covered everywhere, the rocks and tree trunks, branches and leaves, the ground and the plants. Like a living carpet of wings the valley was alive with these beautiful creatures.

Our guide explained that the butterflies had to rest in order to conserve their energy, which is why it was important to remain quiet in the valley and not make any loud noises. It was also the advice of the scientists overseeing this habitat that what the guide was about to do could only be done once each day. Then she clapped her hands loudly.

As if by magic the whole population of butterflies lifted into the air, the valley floor itself and the sides and contours of the earth that surrounded us rose up by themselves. It was as if nature herself had risen to greet us and showed us the splendour she had created. I was stunned at the sight and the experience was so overwhelming I grabbed my new friends arm and held it tightly to stop myself from falling. Not sure how long I held on to her, probably only a few seconds but it felt like forever.

When the butterflies had returned to their resting places and the valley settled back down to its previous state I realised I was still holding on to my tall blonde companion. Quickly letting go I profusely apologised and felt extremely self conscious and embarrassed. She didn't mind and reassured me she had taken no offence. We both laughed and another barrier was crossed. I had shown my vulnerability and she had accepted it without blame.

I was still a bit shaky as we began our walk back and she held my hand, for which I was grateful. It was about time for introductions and I told her my name whilst learning hers was Lyra, which in Greek means heavenly music. I tried to pronounce her surname properly, it's spelt: Efstathiou. When she said it, it sounded lovely, I just came out with a confused babble.

We managed to stay together during the drive back and as we were about to disembark the minibuses, Lyra suggested what I was far to shy to, dinner this evening then perhaps a walk or find somewhere with music in one of the many tavernas on the island. I agreed too quickly but she smiled at my enthusiasm. The time was about five in the afternoon so we agreed to meet at seven at a nice little place on the outskirts of town.

Two hours to shower, and prepare for a date with someone who sent me into silly teenage tremors just by looking at her. Mustn't rush but wanted to look my best for her. Simple make up, didn't want to look like a tart, hair brushed naturally down with slightly offset parting, shorts and t-shirt and a loose top, a couple of rings and a cord necklace with silver pendant. Comfortable white shoes, could have gone for heels but might have some walking to do. How do I look? No beauty queen but this is me and Lyra was obviously interested so I'm now in the hands of whatever goddess remained in this historical country.

About ten minutes walk, and by some fluke I found the taverna, my direction finding usually terrible. Lyra was already there and we smiled, good sign I think. The restaurant was quiet and very traditional, we sat outside under the arbour covered with vine leaves. Oh my, it was so romantic. Candles everywhere and there were a few couples like us enjoying a similarly intimate evening. We decided on a drink to start and a bottle of wine between us, important to be relaxed but neither of us wanted to get drunk and spoil what might be.

Greek food is tasty and spicy and usually comes in many small dishes so you get a little bit of everything. We ate and talked and I told Lyra my life story and she told me hers. Not in a non-stop let-it-all-out way but just by means of chatting and getting to know each other. It wasn't just that she was attractive, she was stunningly beautiful, but I genuinely liked her and she seemed to like me. We split the cost of the meal to avoid any feelings of obligation and thanked the waitress before beginning the walk home.

Still warm, the Greek night was enchanting and the smell of the flowers giving off their evening scent is exquisite. A tree lined avenue leading back to the town and Lyra stopped, what's up? She stood and looked at me for a few moments then put her arms round my waist. My heart pounded in my chest and I responded by placing my hands behind her neck, wrists crossed and face looking up at her with lips slightly parted, inviting. Her kiss was like nectar from an angel, our lips brushed each others before opening and sharing our mouths like gifts. Lyra was taller than me and that meant I needed to look up to her which is what I like. We stayed locked together for the next thousand years till Lyra broke the spell and asked me: 'Am I going to see the sun rise with you tomorrow morning?'

I stroked her hair and whispered in her ear: 'Yes.' The rest of the walk back to her hotel was on a cushion of invisible feathers which floated some inches above the ground. She was staying in a large hotel and her room was very well appointed and the queen size bed looked directly out the window. So I was here and this was it, couldn't really think of much else at this point. Fortunately Lyra was not so shy or nervous and kissed me again before removing first her clothes then hers. I was glad about that because my previous sexual encounters involved much fumbling about on the bed and trying to take someone's clothes off while they are lying down can be awkward and certainly not romantic.

Lyra led me to the bed and we lay down next to each other. The first touch of her fingers on my nipples sent a shudder through my body and a little gasp from my lips. I responded in the same way and so did she. Her body was slim but not thin, and very fit, she told me was was an amateur athlete and I could believe it. Her hands explored my body, slowly moving over every inch. I am very sensitive and with each touch I breathed a little more deeply until I was panting. By this time I was wet and aroused to the point of being ready to begin my climax.

But that would be selfish and making love involves giving as much as receiving pleasure. I gently pushed Lyra off me until she was lying on her back on the bed and began to explore her body in the same way she had mine. Golden brown smooth skin, not like my quick tan which would probably fade as soon as I returned home. When I touched her she simply sighed and closed her eyes until I had completely covered her body with my fingers. Deciding I should take the initiative I leant over her and placed my lips over her nipple, kissing it and sucking it gently then swapping to the other side. Lyra moaned for the first time and I knew I had found one of her sensitive spots.

It is thought lesbians use their fingers to stimulate each other and that is certainly true but I refer to use my lips and tongue if I can. I repeated my covering of her body but with my lips this time and finished with my hips next to her shoulders and my head between her parted thighs. Licking them slowly and steadily I worked my way toward her pussy and placed my lips on both her pussy lips simultaneously. Her cry was loud and I hoped the doors were sound proofed.

When her lips were as swollen as possible I gently pressed my tongue between them and explored inside her for a while. When I found her clit I tickled it gently with my tongue, increasing in pressure and speed. Lyra tried to move me over her face but I resisted. I didn't want her to have to think about me, just enjoy what I was doing to her. She came as I moved my tongue faster, almost singing with some hauntingly melodic harmony as she rode her climax till the wave subsided.

I kissed her pussy before moving up to see her face once more, and I think I fell in love with her at that moment. A Greek goddess, the face of an angel, sounds extravagant but that was how she appeared. A glow of sheer beauty surrounded her and for an instant I wondered if, instead of being human, she wasn't a celestial figure come down from heaven. Okay fanciful, but that is how you see things when you are in love.

Her deep blue eyes looked out from her halo of golden blonde hair and I didn't need anything else in this world but to be absorbed by them completely. She was not reluctant to kiss me while her juices were still on my lips, as some girls are. As our tongues danced around each other I felt her hand move down my back, between my bottom cheeks and find its way to my pussy. I squealed as it pushed my lips apart, and quivered as two fingers slid inside me. Turning me over she reversed our positions and sucked one nipple into my mouth while replacing her fingers inside me.

That combination combined with the fingers of her other hand working on my other nipple returned me to the stage I was at previously and I felt my orgasm building. Mine is like a rainbow warmth of colours in my head then a slow wave throughout my body. I just melt and everything washes over me. I'm told I mewl softly when coming but couldn't confirm or deny that as everything just fades away for a while till I slowly regain focus, which can take a while, as it did in this case.

I opened my eyes and saw Lyra's beautiful face looking at me. She kissed me softly and we lay in silence just enjoying the peace and memory of a wonderful climax each and the softness and warmth of each other's bodies.

Some might say that a quick fuck is not the best way to enjoy sex but it is important to share a physical experience at the start of a relationship, especially a sexual one. When two people have shared an orgasm together, it forms a bond between one another and intimacy becomes easier and better afterwards. I certainly prefer to take my time with lovemaking but also find it important to break down that distancing or barrier that sometimes prevents a deeper relationship from forming.

We dozed off to sleep in the early hours of the morning having held each other and talked for a few hours. And Lyra was right, we saw the sun for the first time together the next day.

Another wonderful part of a relationship is the first shower together. Lyra had a beautiful body, tall and athletic, strong and fit but not over muscled. Simply watching the water flow over her turned me on and when she opened her eyes after washing the soap out of her hair she saw me looking at her with one hand stroking my nipple and the other between my legs stroking my pussy. Lyra took over from where my hands had been and I did the same to her. We came together and barely held on to each other and kept ourselves standing as our legs buckled when our climaxes hit at the same time. Simultaneous orgasms are rare but when they occur they are to be treasured. We both felt at that moment something special was happening between us.