You may wish to read the prequel to this story, "Making Love on an Island in a Wine Dark Sea" which tells of Maggie's previous adventures on a Greek island.
Before Rory left her alone in a hotel room on Skiathos, he told her that he had a friend on the island of Skopelos.
"Actually, he's my boss. A professor of archaeology and a nice, gentle guy. I'll call him and see if he has time to show you around Skopelos."
Maggie was gushing tears -- her idyllic twenty-four hour love affair with Rory at an end as he had to go back to Australia. "I don't know," she wailed. "I'm sorry I'm crying. It's so silly. What will he think? A woman just showing up to see him?"
"He'll think you're cool. Cause I'll tell him. Indulge yourself. You're not in Kansas anymore -- and your preacher husband is a long way away."
Rory made the telephone call. "Okay," he said when he hung up. "You can catch the one p.m. ferry and you'll be there about two. He'll meet you at the ferry landing and take you to lunch. He's tall and skinny, brown hair, 40 years old, and always smiling."
After Rory left, Maggie dried her tears and packed her bags. She dressed in shorts, sandals, and a bikini top which she covered it with a sheer white blouse that she tied under her breasts. For her it was a revealing outfit. She checked out of the hotel, and walked with determination to the ferry landing a few blocks away
. "Five days left on my vacation," she said to herself. "I must move along. Goodbye, Rory. Hello, who knows what."
***
As Rory had promised, a tall, slender man with an unruly thatch of brown hair and a toothy smile was waiting for her at the ferry landing on Skopelos. He had an ugly, but appealing face, and a clumsy, puppy-dog, eager to please demeanor.
"You're Sheila?" he asked. Rory had given her that name. In the lotus land of the Greek Islands, real names were not used. He shook her hand, "I'm Charles."
"I'm sorry to impose on you," she answered.
"Oh, that's fine. We only work at the dig in the mornings. It's too hot in the afternoons. Would you like to have lunch? Rory said you like octopus and beer. I know a place." Like Rory, he was Australian.
She agreed. He picked up her suitcase as if it were empty and they walked together up a cobbled street overhung by blooming bougainvillea and geraniums in pots and flanked by low blue-and-white stone buildings, The restaurant had rough, wooden, outside tables shaded by a grape arbor. Skopelos, she thought, oozed charm and rustic appeal.
Charles was the confiding sort and the two of them talked for a long time over beer, grilled octopus, and a cucumber and tomato salad. Charles was married with a wife and child back in Australia. He came to Greece in summers to excavate the sparse remains of the pre-historic inhabitants of the Greek Islands. Rory had been his assistant on the dig.
Maggie told him that she had been married for 17 years to a conservative, evangelical preacher, lived in a small town in Kansas, had two teen age children, and was a self-employed accountant, managing her own small business.
"Goodness," he said, "you don't look old enough to have teen-age children."
"I'm 37 years old," she answered, "and until this trip I had never been more than a few hundred miles from home. So, this is all new to me." She looked around. "Like a dream of paradise." She added, "I should be looking for a hotel."
"I have a small house on a beautiful beach. It has an extra bedroom which is yours if you want it. No obligation." He smiled at her. "Honestly."
She thought about the offer, calculating the risk and balancing it against the money she would save by not staying in a hotel
. "Always the practical accountant, balancing costs and benefits," she thought to herself wryly.
She looked at Charles. He seemed so unthreatening. "That would be nice -- but only if I pay for lunch." Best not to be too indebted to him.
"That's a deal," he answered. "I have a jeep parked at the ferry landing and my house is only a short distance. Let's go."
"I didn't go to the beach on Skiathos." she said. "Except that Rory and I were on the beach at night." She giggled and wiped away a tear.
"I understand," Charles said with a smile.
***
Charles parked on the dirt road in front of a small, weathered house. "This is home," he said. Inside was a combination living room and kitchen in the center opening at each end to a bedroom. "The bathroom is there," he said, pointing to near the front door. "Let's go onto the deck so you can see the view." They stepped out through a double-width glass door onto a wooden deck.
Maggie breathed in sharply. "This is incredible," she said. The deck overlooked an exquisite circular bay of deep blue water, rimmed by a narrow white sand beach. At its narrow mouth were rocky cliffs with caves carved into them by the white-topped waves of the Aegean Sea. The bay was not much bigger than a football field and on the sandy bluffs surrounding it were about ten houses, each with a deck overlooking the bay and shaded by tall, thin pine trees. A stairway led down to the beach from the deck.
"Would you like a swim?" asked Charles.
"I would indeed. I'll change into my bathing suit."
Charles paused. "Ahhh....most of us here don't put on swimwear."
She turned to look at him. "You go nude?"
"Yes. But if that makes you uncomfortable, I can put on togs."
"I've never been nude." She was flustered. "I mean not nude on a beach or in public. And I'm white. My body is white. I'll look like a ghost," she added.
"It's okay. I understand. Let's put on our swimwear."
She thought a moment. In her mind she had prepared herself to appear topless on an island beach, as so many women did. Why be falsely modest? She liked Charles. She was looking for color in the grayness of her life. Why not go naked on the beach? "Let's go nude," she said with determination. .
"It's a very private beach," he reassured her. "The sun is low in the sky. You won't get sunburned. And your body will look better than most. Believe me."
Maggie retired to her bedroom. She took off her blouse and bikini top, then her shorts and panties. She stood naked. There was only a small mirror in the room and she could not see what she looked like. She sighed with resignation and stepped cautiously out of the room .
Charles was on the deck, facing outward, his bare buttocks shining in the light. She advanced onto the deck, resisting the urge to cover her pubic area with her hands. He turned to greet her and put his hands on her shoulders to look at her. "You're beautiful. You'll be the hit of the neighborhood."
She lowered her eyes to his crotch. He was enormous! Like a floppy sausage, his flaccid penis hung halfway to his knees, and his scrotum hung nearly as low. And it was bare of hair, shaved clean, which made it look even bigger. She averted her eyes quickly, looking at his face. "Yes," he said, smiling with a grimace. "I've been told it's rather larger than the ordinary. But it doesn't bite."
She giggled like an embarrassed schoolgirl. He picked up a bag containing a blanket and towels, and the two of them, hand in hand, walked down the stairs onto the sandy beach. Charles picked a spot not far from the water and laid down the blanket on the sand. "Would you like to go into the water? Can you swim?"
"I would love to go into the water and, yes, I can swim."
They ran into the water together, splashing in the gentle waves of the sea.. "Let's swim to those cliffs and explore the caves," he said. They swam side by side. As they approached the cliffs he said, "Feel for the bottom with your feet, but be careful not to hurt yourself on the rocks. They're sharp." He found a rock beneath the water with his feet and stood on it, pulling her up to join him. She put her arms around him for support, her breasts pressed against his chest.
"It's beautiful," she said, looking into a cave. The water in the darkening caves was a brilliant transparent green, the waves lapping over black rocks just below the surface.
Charles stepped off the rock into water up to his neck, and she followed him, putting her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist as he carried her into the cave. In the blackness of the cave, the sun shimmering on the water a few yards away, he sat on a rock and she sat down on his lap, feeling his penis stiffen against her buttocks.
She turned her face upward and looked into his eyes and he kissed her, a long lingering kiss, gentle rather than insistent. "
Oh, God, forgive me. I am going to give myself to this man."
"Are you ready to go back to the beach?" he asked.
"I'm ready. Thank you for bringing me here."
"It's a special place." He stepped off the rock into the deeper water and she clung to him as he carried her out of the cave and through the rocks and into the open water of the cove. They swam to the shore. Several other people, all naked, were now on the beach. The light from the descending sun made the sky glow.
They walked to their blanket on the sand and she laid down on her back and he laid beside her and turned to her and they kissed again, his leg overlapping hers, and his hardened penis probing her crotch.
