Being stranded in some godforsaken little town was the last thing I needed. I had spent the better part of the last year traveling around the Mediterranean, arranging deals between major drug companies; now I was anxious to get home to Penelope, my wife. A helicopter was to take me and my goods to Rome from Naples, but we had barely crossed the Gulf of Gaeta when engine trouble forced us down near San Felice Circeo, a little town on the coast some distance from Terracina. There was no other convenient way to move all my samples and supplies, so we had to wait until the 'copter was repaired - not a simple task in this isolated place!
To avoid feeling too sorry for myself, I relaxed in a local cafe. My Italian is fluent, and so I listened in on two old-timers telling each other tall tales about the spells of a local strega, or sorceress, who called herself Circe Helias. This was of more than casual interest to me, because these oddballs sometimes know about traditional remedies that actually work. More than one money-making drug has come out of folk-medicine. It was a long shot, but - what the Hell - I was stuck here for a while anyway. The old-timers were not happy that they had been overheard, but some cash pried out of them directions to get to this strega. She lived in a desolate place at the foot of Monte Circeo, in a hut built into the side of a hill. Seemed appropriate!
"The place is to the west, not far away," they told me, "but it's not safe to cross the Pontine Marches. Instead you must go by boat to a place called Torre Paola on the north coast of the promontory. Walk a half mile east and you will enter the Magic Wood, which is on the northern slope of the mountain. Continue through the woods until you come to a grove, and you will see the strega's house."
They hurried away, glancing back at me from time to time and crossing themselves. So, expecting some local color if nothing else, I rented a skiff, and set out as the old men directed. The woods were so thick that several times I considered abandoning the project, but eventually I came to Circe's grove. It was a wide, grassy meadow, dotted with white flowers and surrounded by tall oaks. The house itself was indeed built into the side of a low hill, and was surprisingly well built of accurately cut stone. Throughout the grove were dogs, pigs, goats and other animals, all running around loose. I made my way through them - they were exceptionally friendly - and banged on the door.
I had expected an old hag, but instead I was confronted with a beautiful woman about 30 years old. Her long red hair and green eyes - uncommon in this part of the world - made a striking impression. She wore a loose, off-white, ankle-length cotton dress, which was fastened at her shoulders and left her arms bare. A coarse rope was tied around her waist, leaving the dress somewhat loose around her bust.
"Hello, I’m looking for the Lady Helias," I said, thinking this must be her daughter or housekeeper.
"I am she."
"Lady Circe Helias, the strega?" I sought to confirm.
"Yes," she said with some suspicion, "but what does an American want with a strega?"
"Let me introduce myself." I handed her my card. "I work for a major drug company, and we are very interested in learning about traditional medicines. I’ve been told that you might be able to tell me about some of these, or perhaps even give me some samples to take back to our chemists."
She was still staring at my card. "Your name is Ulysses Laertiades? That is a very unusual name."
"My parents came from Italy, but my grandparents were Greek," I offered as explanation, "Ulysses was someone in mythology, wasn’t he?"
She looked at me strangely, and said quietly, "It is a remarkable name, and very significant. You will come in."
I didn’t get her point, but she stepped aside and so I went in. She motioned me toward an elaborately carved wooden chair, and as she walked to one opposite it, I noticed with interest the vibration of her apparently unfettered breasts. Ah, the attractive simplicity of peasant women! I also saw now that her dress was open at the sides from her shoulders to her waist, and as she walked to the chair my eyes were held by that fluttering gap. A growing pressure in my pants put into my mind thoughts unrelated to discovering new drugs!
In an attempt to suppress these thoughts (since I didn’t really want to take advantage of some poor peasant woman), I began to speak, "Lady Helias 3;"
"Please," she stopped me, "call me Circe, and I will call you Ulysses. Yes?"
"Of course," I agreed, noting that pressure again. "By the way, is your given name connected with the name of this town?"
"We have been here a long time," she answered. "They say my family first settled this place, in ancient times, when it was an island. But what brings Ulysses here?"
I explained what had happened, and she listened sympathetically. When I was done, she suddenly leaned forward, and as her loose dress fell forward at the neck, I could not prevent my eyes from seizing a peek. As I quickly looked back to her face, she smiled, and said, "Ulysses, you want to know my medicines, and I will teach you. But you are unhappy with being away from home, so why don’t I show you first a medicine that will restore your spirits."
"Yes, of course," I said, although I wasn’t paying much attention to what she said, for the image of the creamy mounds of her breasts still held my mind. She went to a cupboard in which I saw bottles and boxes bearing labels of henbane, poppy, mandrake, and much else I couldn't read. Taking some down, she pounded and mixed their contents with a mortar and pestle. As I watched, I realized with excitement that her dress was open on the side facing me, and was fastened by the rope alone. As she worked I was graced with periodic views of a long, firm leg.
"This drink is based on cyceon," she offered, "which in ancient times was the sacrament of the mysteries. It is mostly goat cheese and barley-gruel, mixed into wine and honey. I must stir it quickly and you must drink it quickly, or it will separate and be no good." As she carried the bowl quickly to me, her dress blew to the side and revealed her naked leg. She bent low in front of me, and I was thrilled by the sight of her soft breasts swaying from her chest. "Drink quickly, drink deep," she ordered, and I took the bowl and downed it, as she sat back down. The tonic's strange flavor almost made me gag, but I got the thick mixture down.
"Now we will wait," Circe said, "You will soon feel much better."
The first effect was a warm tingling in my stomach, but soon my head started to spin from the alcohol and whatever else it had in it. My heart began to pound, and my skin began to tingle. There was a moment of panic when I wondered if this strange woman had some reason to poison an American, but my racing brain soon found other occupations. The concoction seemed to have made my eyes more perceptive, or at least I was noticing more. I found myself staring intently at Circe's right nipple as it moved with her breathing under her dress. Nor did I feel self-conscious staring at her, nor did she seem to mind. Next she shifted her legs, and the dress fell away and exposed her right leg. I stared at her thin ankle, and then fixated on the soft, light brown down coating her lower legs. My eyes moved higher, to her thighs, and as I came to her waist I saw that her treasure box was barely covered by the dress disappearing between her legs. She spread them slightly showing me her white inner thigh, and the pounding in my heart reached a crescendo.
I hardly need to add that the pressure in my pants had increased to a rock-hard swelling, and my hand involuntarily went to it. Circe just sat and smiled, and to my swimming head it seemed like her dress had grown more shear and nearly transparent. Her large dark nipples were distinct, and - perhaps it was my imagination - but I was sure I could see her pubic patch. I gripped the arms of my chair to try and keep control, but I had to spread my legs to make room for the swelling bulge. Circe smiled more broadly, and somehow her dress became unfastened at the right shoulder. I didn’t see her do it, so maybe it happened on its own, but she didn't try to fix it. She sat smiling at me as her dress fell open and revealed her right breast resting slightly to the side of her chest. I leaned forward, unable to take my eyes off her hard, swollen nipple.
She also leaned forward in her chair, and, as if by magic, the rope belt fell free, so that only the left side of her was covered. Laughing gaily, she stood, and walked clockwise around me, letting me feast my eyes. I now saw clearly the orange patch of her pubic hair, and felt my penis pulsing in my pants. Her potion was doing odd things to me, for as I stared up at her half naked body, I seemed to see her breasts swell as I gazed at them. But it was true! I was sure that before they had been ample, but soft. Now they were a melon-sized and firm. She caressed her right breast, and smiled.
As magically as before, the clasp on her left shoulder fell open, and the dress dropped to the floor. As her glorious nakedness was revealed to me, I felt a further swelling in my pants, and realized my penis was straightening. Looking down I could hardly believe my eyes, for I saw my penis ripping through my pants until it stood erect, straight up! But it wasn’t my penis! It was bigger! This thing was twelve inches long and two inches thick! But when I grabbed it, I knew it was mine, for the sensation made my whole body shake. Circe was laughing out loud now, and also fingering her clitoris, which looked like a glowing cherry. I could see her sweet juices trickling down the insides of her thighs as she entertained herself with her eyes closed.
I stood and stepped out of my pants and shoes; somehow my shirt fell off of me. I advanced toward her, feeling the vertical pole swaying in my crotch. My balls, which had also grown, to the size of golf balls, and felt hot between my legs. She backed away, till she reached her bed, where she lay back and spread her legs. Her hot, red vagina gaped open, with a glistening cherry above it, and her sweet juices trickling out everywhere. I went for her, but I wasn’t used to this huge penis. It was almost up to my chest and so rigid that I could hardly push it away. Circe laughed happily as I tried several times to maneuver it in.
"Eat me first," she suggested, and so I kissed the inside of her soft thighs, and moved my mouth into her hot pussy. She was so wide open that I could lick mouthfuls of the sweet nectar from her vagina, and I took her clitoris in my mouth and sucked on it. Unable to endure the building pressure any more, I moved up her body, and as I did so, my giant penis slid easily into her equally giant vagina. I pushed it in further and further, stopping along the way to suck her hard nipples and to bury my face between her full breasts.
"Can you take all of me?" I gasped.
Her green eyes stared into mine and she said, "However much you want to have, I can take." And almost as an answer I felt strong muscles in her vagina pumping my penis, which seemed to grow even larger inside her! Almost unable to bear the feeling I began to thrust, sometimes short strokes that ground our pubes together, other times long, long strokes that required me to shift my whole body, for I could now pull out more than a foot without loosing her. I looked down and was able to watch my incredibly long, fat penis sliding between her lips, and probably could not have taken my eyes off the strange sight, but for her giant breasts, which recaptured my attention. I might have been frightened by the whole surrealistic scene, had I not been overcome by passion for Circe and by the effects of her potion.
I can hardly describe the orgasm that resulted from our love-making. Long pulsing waves pumped semen down my penis, which was at the same time being milked by Circe's muscular vagina. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, and I felt like I shot quarts of semen into her. Our hot juices squeezed out between us and coated our stomachs and thighs. When we were done, I was utterly drained and dazed. We rolled over, and Circe pulled off of me. I was dimly aware of my long, limp penis stretching as it pulled out, and then falling damply across my thigh. I fell asleep.
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Last revised December 14, 2001