The small Greek island of Paphia nestled in the ocean, a white jewel in the wine dark sea.
The white beaches gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Small green hills surrounded the white marble Sanctuary of Aphrodite. Groves of olive trees covered the hills. A grassed clearing at the top of the cliffs, overlooking the ocean, was a hive of activity.
Twilight was falling. It was a warm spring evening. The heady perfume of flowers filled the air. Preparations for the feast were coming to an end, spits of lamb and pork were roasting over several large fires. Female slaves tended the roasts. Dusky male slaves had worked all day to prepare enough wine for the festival.
A sail was sighted on the horizon. Twenty stout men manned the oars. Free men originally from Athens, they had sailed for many days and their destination was in sight at last. The annual festival of Bacchus was to be held here on the island of Paphia over the next two days. The travellers on this boat were the only mortal guests. Guests from the halls of Olympus were also expected, however gods rarely travel by boat.
The boat skipped across the waves as it raced toward the beach. The crew worked in harmony, their broad backs bending in unison as their sinews knotted and strained. In minutes the boat crested the foam and crashed up the beach.
The crew together with the guests leapt onto the golden sand and they raced up the hill toward the clearing. It was important to be at the festival before sunset.
Golden haired men and long limbed women ran to the clearing. Tonight wine will flow.
High on the clouds of regal Mount Olympus, Aphrodite the goddess of Love turned her pale blue eyes toward her Sanctuary on Paphia. She smiled to see so many young people on her island. Aphrodite spoke to Bacchus the god of Wine, who stood next to her.
"Tonight at your Festival I wish to play a few games with the mortals coming to celebrate in your honour. I promise no disrespect."
"Of course, once the wine is flowing, I will play as well. Shall we have a competition to see who can have the most enjoyment in my name?"
Apollo, the god of Music was listening. He thought it would be fun to attend in disguise as a mortal. It would be fun to disrupt the plans of both Aphrodite and Bacchus.
Aphrodite, standing on the lofty heights of Mount Olympus, clothed herself in gossamer. The sheer fabric clung to her body accentuating every curve. It was almost almost invisible. With a nod, Aphrodite summoned her courtesans and together the 3 immortals made the short journey to Paphia.
Bacchus grinned to see her go. Wearing a leather loincloth, Bacchus with a pitcher of wine in one hand and a rosy red bunch of grapes in the other, also moved from the clouds of Mount Olympus to join the throng on the island of Paphia.
Apollo cast a shade across his body, so that his godlike physique was no longer visible to mortal eyes. With dark hair and smouldering grey eyes Apollo arrived on the island of Paphia.
Bacchus reclined on a couch. Mortal attendants both male and female, fawned over his every whim.
"More wine" he called.
"More meat" he called
He licked lamb grease from his fingers and laughed loudly. His laugh was deep and booming.
A slave girl barely wearing a short toga, passed a bowl of wine to Bacchus. He grabbed her waist, spilling dark wine all over her chest as he pulled her onto his lap. Laughing as her toga fell away, she kissed him passionately as her hugged her nude body. Bacchus laughed as he caressed her firm young breasts, smiling as her nipples grew firm at his touch.
Aphrodite her gossamer gown swirling as she walked, glimpses of her nudity captivated everyone she passed. Males went weak at the knees wishing they could bury themselves in her loins. Females ached to feel her hands and fingers explore the secrets of their bodies.
Apollo danced to music only he could hear and anyone close to him danced as well.
Bodies writhed and moved together in unison. People sweated as they twirled, ever faster. Clothing was cast aside as the beat enthralled the dancers.
Apollo could have had his way with any of them but he only had eyes for Aphrodite.
The night grew dark. The only light came from the huge bonfires that dotted the island. The surrounding olive groves offered privacy as couples broke away from the main festival. Moans of unbridled passion rose and the shadowy figures joined in ecstasy under the broad branches of ancient olive trees.
Aphrodite had entranced several festival attendees, both male and female, and left them all exhausted and spent. Young bodies, nude under the moonlight, cast aside after their enthusiasm and essence had gone. More than once, Aphrodite's body had been covered, across her stomach and firm breasts, by sperm from eager lovers. Only to have other eager female partners lick it all off.
Many had tried, but none had come deep inside her. Aphrodite's love had to be earned and none here tonight were her equal.
The ache between her legs needed satisfaction. Her delicate pussy craved more. There had been several glorious penises work in and out of her vagina this night. Some massive in size, others thick and firm but none had managed to bring her to the climax that Aphrodite craved.
The grey eyed youth with dark ravishing hair caught Aphrodite's eye. There was a familiar twinkle but Aphrodite didn't recognise Apollo due to the intoxicating effect of the wine brewed especially for Bacchus.
The lithe bodies of the Bacchus dancers cavorted across the island. Males and females twisted and turned, naked to the sky. Clothing was not required to give glory to Bacchus, only an unbridled passion for wine.
Apollo paused. The dancer in his arms had lowered herself onto his erect penis slowly. She had never felt a cock this big in her pussy before. She eyes were wide with delight.
Apollo paused before one more gentle thrust. Her eyes rolled backwards under her eyelids as her climax washed across her body. Apollo eased himself out of her cunt and gently unwrapped her legs from his waist. He left her lying in the middle of the dance floor and walked away.
Apollo drained a large bowl of sweet intoxicating wine. Walking out of the nearest olive grove was a vision of unnatural beauty.
