The flight from Naples to Athens was only two hours. It took me down the boot of Italy and between the toe and the heel out over the Mediterranean to Greece. Greece is a hilly mess of a land and you wonder how agriculture managed to keep people alive there. In some ways it didn't. Most Greek towns established towns like those in Italy and around the Black Sea to provide the agriculture essential to maintain the Greek cities. No wonder the Greeks developed philosophy; they had a challenging environment they had to explain.
The flight in was uneventful. As soon as I had the Corsair tied down, I grabbed a taxi and headed for the Acropolis. If I saw nothing else while I was in Athens, I was going to see that. As I climbed the hill, Acropolis means city on the hill, I could see the remnants of a great civilization. The Athens of Pericles: the Golden Age of Athens.
What is it that makes a Golden Age? There have been many times when a confluence of genius seems to spring from the earth, like a plant that has lain dormant in the soil for hundreds of years, then suddenly bursts into life. The age of Pericles was one; Plato, Aristotle, Pericles, and many other who still influence us today. The Florentine Renaissance which produced Da Vinci, Michelangelo, and the Medici, was another. The Paris of Voltaire was another such time. And the American Revolution headed by Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, and Washington was one. Is it the time which makes the genius or the genius which makes the time? And why has genius sprung forth with such vigor in just those few times and places?
As I reached the top, I gazed at the Parthenon, maybe the most famous building in the world. It lay damaged by the ignorance of the Greeks and bleached by the Mediterranean sun. The Parthenon had stood for 2,000 years, nearly intact until the Greeks, fighting against Turkey, decided to store their ammunition in the Parthenon. A stray Turkish missile set it off, nearly demolishing the building. Lord Elgin, of Britain, saw what the Greeks were doing to their heritage and grabbed most of the damaged sculpture from the building taking it to London for safe-keeping. Now that tourist dollars are involved, the Greeks care about their 'stolen' heritage and are demanding the return of the marbles. If they would have cared earlier their heritage would never have needed to be stolen in order to be saved.
We moderns are used to looking at Greek marble and seeing the blinding white of the marble. Actually, the Greeks painted their temples and sculptures. Temples were painted bright colors and sculptures painted to look lifelike. That is why the eyes of Greek marbles look so vacant. The eyes were intended to be painted in. When the Italian Renaissance sculptors started copying the Greeks, they couldn’t understand why the eyes were blank and they began sculpting the eyes as well. They never knew about the paint.
My favorite sculptures on the Acropolis were the caryatids, slim maidens holding up the roof of the building. It seems a terrible task, having young girls holding up the roof of the porch. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be wonderful to emerge in the bright morning onto your porch and be surrounded by beautiful young women?
I wandered around the Acropolis, pondering the death of the Golden Age of Athens which had been destroyed by the Spartans in two wars. Are people forever condemned to repeat the same errors? Time and again, a Golden Age had risen, only to be brought to ruin. Periclean Athens had lasted less than a century. The Roman Republic had lasted five centuries. How long would the Republic of Jefferson and Franklin last? Or was it already gone? When I read that most Americans value security more than liberty I know that the Republic is only awaiting the demagogue that can convince the people to surrender the last of their liberty in exchange for the security of tyranny, and when they do, they will have neither security nor liberty. Once in power the tryant worries about threats to their power and only by suppresing the populous do they feel safe.
The hotel had a flower shop. I had the address of the shop where Lilja worked, but didn’t have her address, stupid me. I had been there as she changed clothes, but those Icelandic street names are impossible if not written down. So I sent flowers to her at the coffee shop, hoping she still worked there. I stood there wondering how I made it through life sometimes, since I would do such dumb things, like not even get the address of the most beautiful woman I had ever been with.
I had dinner in a hole in the wall neighborhood taverna. The food wasn’t the best, but the locals, once they knew I was there not as the ugly American, soon warmed up. Before I knew it, I was drinking ouzo, licorice flavored alcohol I think, and laughing. They even got me up dancing a folk dance with the other men, a scene from Zorba.
As I was trying to catch my breath after a dance a lovely Greek maiden, sidled up to me.
“You are having fun?” she asked.
I turned and saw her. I was stunned. “My God, a caryatid come to life,” I said.
She blushed at the praise. “No, I am flesh and blood. Not cold marble.” That got the blood pumping. “You like to go to a club?”
I had no idea what that meant, but I was certainly not going to say no to this lovely lady. “Yes.”
She grabbed my hand, pulling me from the taverna and out to the street. We set off, talking and laughing. “I’m Mike. You?”
“Adrianna,” she said gaily. Looking now, at the name on paper, I realize that it doesn’t look like what she said. But I can’t come any closer. She had lustrous dark longish hair, dark eyes that sparkled when she smiled, and olive skin. She wasn’t a waif; instead she was a woman, with curves where they should be. Her dress pushed up her small breasts until they looked like they would pop up out of her dress; not big but well presented. Her step was light with a swing to the hips. I was entranced.
She pulled me into a narrow alley. Half way down the dark path was a door. Music blared from behind it. Inside, the place was packed with smoke, music, heat, and the smell of bodies. I followed her in. She pulled me to the small crowded dance floor, laughing at my not-so-elegant dancing. I didn’t care, laughing with her.
We danced, and talked, and drank large glasses of Greek beer, sweating in the heat of the crowded room. After one dance, a young man made a comment in Greek. She turned in a whirl and slapped him. I saw him start to rock back for a swing, and in that split moment, my training took over. I lashed out and caught him on the side of the head and he went down as though he had been shot. He lay on the floor in a heap. Adrianna cursed at him, causing several people around us to laugh at her invective. It must have been colorful. I grabbed her hand and pulled her from the club. I hurried, nearly dragging her, down several streets until I was sure we weren’t being followed.
Leaning against a building to catch my breath I muttered, “Oh God,” as the adrenaline rush began to fade.
She started laughing, “Oh yes. You show him, to say such things to a woman. Aye, that was so much good.” She threw her arms around my neck and pinned me against the plaster with a kiss, and not a sisterly one either. She pulled back, “Where you stay?”
“Hotel Philippos,” I said.
“Nice hotel. You must be rich American,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Oh yes. I am Rockefeller,” I teased back.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me along the sidewalk, “Come. I see your hotel.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Come. This way,” she said leading me down the street.
I realized I had misunderstood her. She didn’t see my hotel; she was seeing me to the hotel. It was just a few blocks. She led me to the elevator and followed me to my room. As soon as the door closed behind us, she was in my arms with the follow-on kiss to the one in the street. This one was even better as she pressed her body against mine. I quickly rose to the occasion. When she felt my hard cock, she ground herself into it, exciting me further.
Soon, clothes were flying and I found myself on the bed with a beautiful Greek maiden, both of us sweaty and aroused. She lay back on the bed. I leaned over her kissing her, and running my hand across her chest, teased at her breasts, not quite touching them. She kissed me harder, demanding. Fingers twirled around her nipples finding them hard. My hand slithered across her belly and well trimmed patch of hair to find her hot and wet.
I lowered myself between her legs and smelled the heady aphrodisiac of aroused woman. Pushing her thighs wide apart, I buried my face in her pussy, licking, sucking, and teasing her with tongue and lips. She moaned and started whimpering something in Greek. It didn’t sound like she wanted me to stop so I continued. Soon, her hands were in my hair pulling my face against her pussy. Her pussy was hunching up against my face and I could sense her getting close. I took her clit into my mouth, sucking on the base, while my tongue flicked against the tip. She moaned, then her whole body went stiff as her back arched up, lifting her from the bed. With a great sigh, her whole body seemed to melt as she settled back onto the bed. That looked like a good one.
Moving up between her legs, I settled, my cock moving over her wet pussy. Her eyes flew open and she was pushing on my chest, “No, no, no. That is only for husband. No,” as she pushed me off and to the side.
‘Shit,’ I thought, disappointed beyond belief. ‘I just gave you a great cum and what do I get?’ My hard on was quickly shrinking from the frustration.
She rolled onto her side away from me and reached for her purse. When she rolled back she had a tube and was removing the top. She grabbed my cock and gave it a couple pulls which reversed the blood flow. She squeezed the tube and a cool gel flowed over my cock which she spread over it. I still had no idea what was happening but I knew it was going to be a lot better than I had feared just a moment before. A smile filled my face.
She positioned the tube between her legs and squeezed. But it wasn’t her pussy that was getting it, it was lower. She worked her fingers into her tight little ass, and it dawned on me. The pussy if for the husband, the ass is for the boyfriend. Adrianna was moaning a little as she worked the lube around her butt. She set the tube aside and said, “Come on.” I lowered myself between her legs and felt her hand guide my cock lower until it met her greasy back door. I pushed and felt her push back. There was resistance, but slowly I felt my cock sinking into her. She gave a push and my cock was inside. “Oh yes. You are big American. Wait,” she said holding my hips still.
I felt the pressure ease a little and then her hips were moving under me. “More,” she said. I pushed and felt the head of my cock push past the sphincter and slide deeper into her tight ass. She moaned as my shaft opened her tight back passage.
“Slow,” she sighed.
I relaxed and let my weight do the work, my cock sliding all the way into her hot tight greasy back channel. My hips were resting on her voluptuous ass cheeks. I felt her ass spasm around my cock. “Oh yes,” she moaned. “Now, you do it, slowly.”
I started fucking my Greek Maiden’s tight ass. She moaned as my cock plowed into her and whimpered as it withdrew. Her hand snaked down between her legs. “Yes. Now, faster.” I obliged her, pumping into her faster. Her ass felt looser but still hot and it grasped at my cock every stroke as I withdrew. I felt my own climax building. Her hips began bouncing under me as a stream of words, Greek to me, erupted from Adrianna’s lips and shouted into the pillow under. Her ass rippled around my cock as she climaxed. It sent me over the top. My balls pulled up and I felt the rumble deep inside as my cum exploded into her ass.
I rolled to the side, pulling her with me, my cock still buried in her ass. I kissed her neck and held her against my chest. She held my hands over her tits. “So American, you like Greek girl?”
“I like you, my beautiful Caryatid,” I said.
She chuckled. “Thank you for what you do at the club, yes. You show that piece of crud.”
We lay like that, relaxing in the bliss. I don’t know when, but I fell asleep, my cock still inside her. When I awoke in the morning I was alone. It was a dream, an idyll, a myth. I don’t care what it was but I sure do remember my visit to Greece.
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