The Return of the Goddess

How often I wonder, do we make seemingly random choices which go on to utterly alter the course of the rest of our lives. We all pride ourselves on being rational beings, only making decisions after weighing up all the possibilities and considering the consequences, but in fact, I think that most people are far more irrational than they admit. It was certainly true in the case of my wife and me.

It started when we were thinking how to celebrate my wife Daphne's fiftieth birthday which just happened to coincide with our thirtieth wedding anniversary. It had been easy in the case of my own half century a couple of years previously. My sister's husband was a geologist with a major oil company and they had been posted to the company's headquarters in New York for eighteen months. We had never travelled further than Western Europe and this seemed like a golden opportunity to visit the United States. It was much harder to decide where we would both like to go although I said that the final choice should be Daphne's.

We agreed that the best way to go about this was to each come up with a list of alternatives. In the end, however, we decided that we would like to go back to Cyprus which by chance was the only choice on both of our lists. We had been to Cyprus as a family once before twenty years earlier when our children were young. In those days money was a major limitation and we had booked a fortnight's holiday in a fairly basic apartment in a 1960s complex in Paphos. We had had an enjoyable time despite a number of minor disasters like the blocked drains and the cracked wash basin in the bathroom which fell apart on our last day when someone dropped a tube of toothpaste. We had also only been able to afford to hire a car for a few days which limited how much of the island we were able to visit. Now that the children had left home and Daphne had been able to go back to work, money was no longer a problem and we booked a traditional three bedroomed villa for a month in the southern foothills of the Troodos mountains about twenty miles from the coast.

About a month before our departure Daphne had a phone call from her cousin Valerie to whom she was very close. She started by apologising but wanted to ask us for a very big favour. Her twenty-year-old daughter Ruth was going to be backpacking around the Greek islands with her boyfriend whilst we were in Cyprus and she had wondered if we would be prepared to put them up for a few days. Daphne responded that she didn't think it would be a problem but would call back once she had spoken to me that evening. She explained the situation to me when I got in from work and I said that I could see no reason why not. However, I wondered if they realised there were no longer any ferries from Greece to Cyprus although there were plenty of cheap flights from Athens or Thessaloniki to Larnaca. It was eventually agreed that Ruth would phone us on her mobile from Greece a couple of days in advance of their intended arrival to let us know the flight details so that we could pick them up from Larnaca airport.

ooOoo

Our flight from Manchester to Paphos on a sunny morning in early May was uneventful, but the queues at the car hire booths at the airport were long, and it was nearly 90 minutes after our plane had touched down at Paphos International Airport before we were on our way. We took the road in the direction of the village of Kouklia and the area known as Aphrodite Hills which was an area that was famous for its proximity to the mythical birthplace of Aphrodite at Petra tou Romiou, and the open-air sanctuary where she had been worshipped as the goddess of fertility for over 5,000 years.

We had brought tea and coffee with us, but stopped at a supermarket in the centre of Kouklia to buy other essential supplies — bread, butter, cheese, cooked meat, olives, tomatoes etc, and of course, wine. As we drove away from Kouklia up into the hills we could see the towering slopes of Mount Olympos in the distance, the summit still capped in snow. The first thing we did on arrival at our villa, even before unpacking, was to have a simple al fresco lunch in the small garden alongside the pool at the back of the villa. The surroundings were idyllic, and we were serenaded by the chattering of the birds in the pine trees, and the hum of bees in the bougainvillea that cascaded over the walls of the building.

After lunch, once we had put our clothes away and stowed our suitcases, we were at last free to change into our bathing costumes, and crash out in the sun beside the pool. Daphne had bought a rather skimpy white bikini and brightly coloured sarong especially for the holiday and I could not help thinking how lovely she looked. The sunlight was intense and we started to apply sun lotion to prevent ourselves burning. Daphne asked me to do her back and to make things easier for me she unhooked her bikini top before lying face down on her lounger.

After doing this very pleasant duty, I wiped my hands, lay back and picked up the novel I had bought at Manchester Airport. Set in Cyprus, it was described on the blurb as a charming, passionate and romantic tale of a woman's voyage of rediscovery faced with her husband's infidelities, sudden bereavement and unwanted advances, and it seemed the ideal reading for a romantic holiday on the island of love.

It might just have been the book or perhaps there was was something about the air of the island, but I began to feel like a lusty young man again. When a gentle breeze sprang up, seemingly from nowhere, and ruffled the folds of Daphne's sarong I felt the stirrings of my libido. I had the sudden desire to undo the two little bows that were all that held her bikini bottoms in place and remove them altogether. A moment later a new idea came into my mind. Our villa was in an isolated spot and we were unlikely to be disturbed by visitors and I thought about suggesting to Daphne that there was no reason we shouldn't be daring and sunbathe naked. As I watched her, Daphne stirred and sat up briefly, not caring to conceal her breasts. She mouthed "Darling husband, isn't this wonderful?" before blowing me a kiss and lying down again to luxuriate in the sunshine. I was about to say what was in my mind about sunbathing in the nude but I chickened out at the last moment and the words died on my lips.

Soon I too was overtaken by the languor of the afternoon, and fell into a light doze, my mind filled with vaguely erotic dreams of beautiful girls in diaphanous gowns dancing around my bed in the sunshine, beckoning to me to get up and follow them. As they danced, it suddenly felt as if fingers were gently stroking my penis through my trunks. With a start, I woke up and looked around, but Daphne was still lying face down as she had been when I dozed off.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. In the evening we took the car and drove to a nearby taverna where we had our first Greek mezedes, followed by baclava and dark sweet Greek coffee. The deep fried baby squid were particularly delicious, so different from the rather rubbery fare in restaurants back home, and the whole meal was washed down by a bottle of the local wine. Daphne did not particularly like the resinous flavour and I must admit that I drank rather more than two thirds of the bottle, so it was a good thing that I had added her as a named driver when I hired the car.

For the next few days, we just lazed around the pool. I finished my novel in a couple of days and passed it on to Daphne to read, hoping that she would find it as erotic as I had. She had readily agreed to my suggestion that we had no need to wear bathing costumes and after a few days in the blazing sun we had both developed an all-over tan for the first time in our lives. Until then our lives had been very conservative and our sex life had grown rather stale. However, the combination of wine and sun, and what to us was unaccustomed daring, had a liberating effect on our libidos and we made love several times a day, often in the open air.

A week after our arrival on the island I received a call on my mobile phone and when I answered it was a rather tearful Ruth on the other end. I must admit that I had forgotten all about her, and at first, I was a little irritated that the isolation of our deliciously sybaritic lifestyle was going to be interrupted by two strangers. But politeness took over and I asked what the problem was. Ruth replied that she and her boyfriend had had a massive argument over a girl they had met on Lesbos and that they had split up. She continued by saying that she would be on a flight arriving at Larnaca at noon the following day, and if we didn't mind, could she spend a couple of weeks with us before flying home. Of course, I agreed and said how nice it would be to see her, but privately I was rather irritated — a few days would have been okay, but two weeks. The things we do for relatives!

The morning after Ruth's arrival we decided to explore the area in the vicinity of the villa. Our first stop was at Aphrodite's sanctuary, which we explored for an hour, and then we made our way down to the coast to her reputed birthplace at Petra tou Romiou. Daphne and I sat by the car, while Ruth went off on her own to explore the beach. We were chatting about what a wonderful idea it had been to come back to Cyprus, when she came rushing up with another young woman in tow.

Rather breathlessly she managed to blurt out, "Hey Ralph and Daphne, meet Anastasia. She was born in England where her parents had moved from Cyprus before she was born to open a Greek restaurant, but when they died in a fire she had to come here to live with her only living relative. She thinks he is a great uncle or something like that and he is very old. Although she learned Greek from her mum and dad, she can hardly understand a word he says and she is so bored with no other young people to hang around with."

She paused to catch her breath and then went on excitedly, "Can she come and stay with us - there is a spare bed in my room, Please say yes, she will not be any trouble, and it will give me someone my own age to talk to?"

"Well that will depend on her uncle," Daphne replied. "I have no objections as long as Will agrees, but we must ask him first before we make any decision."

"O thank you, Daphne," trilled Ruth, "Can we go and ask him now? They live just a few miles away in the hills above the villa."

Daphne looked at me, but I said I could see no harm in Ruth having a female companion of comparable age. Anastasia was very beautiful, with long honey blonde hair, which contrasted with Ruth's raven locks. She was dressed in just a very brief pair of shorts, which showed off her shapely legs to perfection, and a tee shirt. She was not wearing a bra and her tee shirt clung to her deliciously full breasts, her nipples making twin points in the thin cotton fabric. My private thoughts were rather naughtier, and the idea of having three beautiful women around me for the rest of the holiday to delight my eyes was extremely appealing.

Without further ado, we all bundled into the car and made the short journey to the small house where Anastasia's great uncle lived. I say house, but what we found at the end of a rough track looked much more like a shepherd's simple hut, and quite definitely not an appropriate home for a young woman brought up in suburban England. The impression was heightened when we got out of the car and saw a man in the distance surrounded by a small flock of what I assumed were sheep, although they looked more like goats than the familiar animals we see in England. Anastasia shouted a welcome in Greek and the man turned and strode vigorously down the hillside towards us.

When he got closer we could see that he was indeed a very elderly man, but for all his small stature — he was only about five feet tall — he was very striking in appearance. He was wearing only a pair of goatskin trousers and was naked from the waist up. His torso was wiry but still giving the impression of great physical strength and his skin was burned to the colour of walnuts. He was totally bald except for a small goatee beard and he had a small mouth with just the hint of a smile suggesting a permanent amusement at the world but most striking of all were his dark twinkling eyes above a long hooked nose.

Speaking in Greek, Anastasia introduced us and our purpose. After a few minutes of heated discussion with Anastasia, it was agreed that she should come back with us. Whilst Anastasia went indoors to pack a very small suitcase, he shook and he shook my hand and muttered something in a deep voice that sounded like Pankratios which I assumed was his name. He then tried to press some notes into my hand to cover the cost of her food, but I gave them back to him, thanking him in for his kindness in some of the few words of Greek that I had picked up. I the heart to tell him that drachmas were no longer legal currency.

When we had left him, we stopped on the way back to the villa at a local taverna for a simple lunch of bread and fish accompanied by a few glasses of a sweet white wine that was more to the liking of the girls. It was then generally agreed that we had done enough sight-seeing for the day and that it would be a shame to waste the glorious sunshine.

When we arrived at the villa Ruth took Anastasia to their bedroom to unpack her few belongings, and Daphne also went upstairs to our room to freshen up while I went to sit by the pool. I stripped off my shirt but kept my shorts on for the sake of decency, disappointed that my days of sunbathing in the nude must end. However, when the three women came out they were all completely naked. After thirty years of married life I was accustomed to seeing my wife in the nude but now I was surrounded by three beautiful naked women. I was entranced by the contrast between Daphne's voluptuous middle-aged curves and the slim bodies of the two girls with their pert little breasts. I am no more or less of a voyeur than any other red-blooded male but I was beginning to struggle to hide my arousal at the wonderful sight of the three very different pussies that were unashamedly on display a few feet from my gaze. Daphne had a full bush of hair that hid her more intimate charms, whilst Ruth had a neatly trimmed bush, the same colour as her dark hair. Anastasia however, was completely shaved and her prominent inner lips and clitoris were excitingly on view.

The women looked at me and laughed. Anastasia said that I was a spoilsport to hide my manhood when they were all naked and the two girls grabbed hold of my shorts and pulled them off. To my embarrassment, I could no longer hide my penis which almost instantaneously sprang from semi erect to fully aroused.

The girls then dived giggling into the pool but Daphne just smiled and said, "Mmm, you are a naughty boy, I will have to do something about that later."

ooOoo

It was very late when we got back that night after another pleasant meal and we almost immediately went to our separate bedrooms. The events of the afternoon had left me in a state of erotic anticipation all evening. Daphne obviously felt the same because as soon as we were in the privacy of our room she stripped off her clothes and lay back on the bed with her legs parted in a pose of almost lascivious invitation. Our love making had taken on a new dimension in the last few days and I knelt between her legs to worship her most intimate female beauty. The heady scent of her arousal as I buried my nose in her hair was like a drug to my already heightened senses and my cock hardened until it was throbbing with lust and desire. But before I succumbed to my need to bury my length in her silken depths I gave my entire attention to her pleasure, and soon my licking and sucking of her distended labia and hard clitoris sent her into convulsions of ecstasy. Finally, I could restrain myself no longer and stood and pulled her onto my proud staff until I had reached deep into her heart. The intensity of my arousal was greater than for many years and after a few minutes of exquisite thrusting into her hot depths, I exploded in streams of hot cum which sent her into fresh paroxysms of rapture. Later as we lay kissing and cuddling in naked intimacy we became aware of the obvious sounds of sexual pleasure coming from the the girls' bedroom. At first, I was a little shocked but Daphne just smiled and whispered, "Why shouldn't they have some fun, you are only young once after all," before turning over and falling asleep in my arms.

Around mid-morning the following day when Daphne and I were enjoying a second cup of coffee there was a loud knock at the front door. The girls had still not appeared although there was a lot of giggling coming from their room. We looked at each other wondering who it might be since the only people we had met since our arrival were Anastasia and her strange relative. Daphne was the first to the door and when she came back a few minutes later she was carrying a small wooden box. She looked slightly flushed under her tan and when I asked, all she would say was that the mystery caller was a rather gorgeous young man. I laughed and said that she didn't normally react quite that way to the postman at home, but even though I pressed her she wouldn't say any more. When we opened the box we found a simple hand written card inviting us to an informal party later that afternoon at Aphrodite's Sanctuary. When Ruth and Anastasia finally appeared we told them about the invitation. I said that I didn't see how we could possibly go but the girls were very enthusiastic, and Anastasia said that it was considered extremely rude in Greek society to refuse an offer of hospitality.

When we arrived at the Sanctuary it was about five o'clock and the last tourist parties were leaving for their coaches. We were greeted at the entrance by a tall young man who told us that his name was Apollonius and that he was delighted that we had come.

He then kissed Daphne's hand before turning to Anastasia and embracing her warmly. I was rather surprised however when he said, "It is good to see my niece after such a long time, I hope these kind people are looking after you."

I couldn't see how he could possibly be her uncle. For a start, they appeared to be about the same age, and secondly, she had definitely told us that Pankratios was her only living relative. When she returned his kiss and greeted him as uncle, I was even more perplexed but decided that he must just be a bit of playful teasing. I was less surprised at Daphne's response that morning, however. Apollonius was tall and muscular and his tight fitting white chinos and tee shirt left virtually nothing to the imagination — he was definitely very well endowed. Most striking of all were his piercing blue eyes in a handsome face which seemed to shine with an inner glow, and which was topped by a mass of tightly curled golden hair.

He led us through the ruins between fallen pillar towards what remained of the Temple of Aphrodite. As we walked he explained to us something of the history of the site and told us that in ancient times there was a custom that compelled every woman, whether low born or from the aristocracy, at least once in her life to sit outside the temple and have intercourse with any stranger who asked her and tossed a few coins into her lap. Even today he said, women would come and anoint the huge conical stone at the centre of the temple with olive oil to ensure their fertility.

Small groups of people were standing talking under the gaily coloured umbrellas that had been set up in the temple. When we reached them they welcomed us warmly and invited us to help ourselves to from the tables on which there were glasses and jugs of some sort of wine and a variety of Greek delicacies. Amongst the other guests, I was surprised to see Pankratios. He was slightly better dressed than when we had met him the day before with a sleeveless leather waistcoat covering his bare torso and a pair of knee high boots instead of sandals. He totally ignored us, Anastasia included, and continued talking to a couple of pretty girls in thin flower patterned mini dresses. There was not a breath of wind and the air seemed to shimmer in the oppressive heat of late afternoon, so we were glad of a cooling drink. The wine had a very distinctive and unusual, although not unpleasant, taste as if it had been flavoured with herbs and spices, and after a couple of glasses, I began to feel very sleepy. It can only have been the combination of the heat and the wine but however hard I tried it quickly became impossible to keep my eyes open. Someone offered me a chair which I gratefully accepted and as soon as I sat down fell into a deep slumber.