After unpacking his one suitcase, Vander Delft wanted to walk and stretch his legs. Across from the hotel, people magically multiplied, peppering sands bordering the water with colorful assorted beachwear. Kamari village was quite liberal, especially concerning tourists and their beach attire. They did depend upon tourist dollars for a livelihood. Locals never objected to what was worn or not worn. Covered or not, people rented rooms, bought souvenirs, food, and most important, left behind their currency. Even this early in the day half the females were topless and enjoying themselves soaking up the sun. By the afternoon the daring took it all off, especially amply endowed youngsters. Conservative males were less eager about showing their private parts. This was the most well known topless beach on the island, and the young came from all over the world to sample its delights. The tall man felt privileged in making his way through acres of bare breasts.
Walking through Kamari's beach area and garden of none too secret exacerbated delights was an up-lifting experience bordering on surreal. Jake made a note of it being rather a good year for budding breasts. He wondered whether that would hold true for the Santorini wine as well. It was.
These were not all Greek girls, but a potpourri mixture, a regular smorgasbord of Swedish, German, Italian, and French delicacies. Then she caught his eye! In front of Jake sat a classical body and a captivating face looking straight at him. This one must be Greek...a Greek goddess! An Artemis of the hunt, complete with Kamari beach-dog laying to her right. Behind her was an over-turned fishing boat. It provided a red and blue backdrop when she turned her strikingly beautiful profile to him while whispered something to her girl friend.
What he saw was smooth flawless skin, well-rounded cheekbones, leaving sweet little hollows and a flashing smile that showed perfect teeth. A cheeky look crept into her eyes. She lowered her chin and looked up at him from the top of her eyes. Their eye contact held longer than was normal. What followed was a slight lifting and pulling back of shoulders. This served to stretch her bare chest, lifting her curvaceous chest as if for his inspection.
The man stopped abruptly in his sandy tracks and could only stand with open mouth. His eyes widened as he slowly appraised the majestic sight of a magnificently formed body. The woman gathered her feet under her and moved to a crouch, sitting on her heels, then spread her legs slightly. Her narrow waist flowed into a small black bikini bottom forming a perfect V between her legs. With elbows resting on outstretched knees, long fingers moved slowly in a rhythm that beckoned to him. Her breasts were well-formed mounds tipped by huge red aureoles equipped with the usual compliment of auxiliary features centered in middle. He watched as they magically came to attention, a salute to his presence.
The American couldn't believe what was happening. His need for a walk completely left his no longer vacuous mind. All he could think of was how this impossibly beautiful creature got to this out of the way beach. Hollywood should have known of her long ago. What was this smoky gray-eyed woman, crouching on a beach towel, doing blocking his path?
A broad smile floated across the woman's face as her right arm moved up and her hand brushed away her ponytail of hair and moved to the back of her head. Catching her breath, she expanded her chest once again, moving those creamy, smooth, twin orbs upward and ever closer towards the gawking man. Her sensuous delicately shaped lips came together and formed a surprised O, as she continued to return his most attentive stare.
Showing off her athletic dexterity, she bounced lightly two or three times on bent legs while holding her position. It was still in a duck-squat, lightly touching her heels with her shapely rounded bottom. Her chin, strong in character, began the curved arch flowing into a patrician's long thin neck. Silken light hair caught golden sun tinted highlights. Newly tied with loop and pointing skyward, it then spilling in a ponytail flowing down her back. Ponytails were not in season, but hers would always be in fashion. He watched as she reached above her head and pulled away a loop of hair. The circular pile of honey-blonde tresses came alive and fell loose. The result was a cascading waterfall of shinning, scintillating beauty. She shook her head. Hair swirled around her shoulders as though a golden furry cape.
Was all of this actually taking place? His heart skipped a beat even as he momentarily forgot to breathe. Without thinking he instinctively squatted by the dog, rubbing him behind his ears. Looking up from this position, his eyes met hers. They held each other in fascination once again. Ridiculous thoughts came into his mind as seconds passed. He longed to touch her skin. How would it feel having her arms around him? The girl beside her pulled on her shoulder. Grey-green eyes sat back down on the towel. For the first time, the man studied the other woman.
"I saw you on the bus," the darker-haired girl said in introduction as her greeting. Her English was perfect, yet it contained an accent his sharp ear detected. It aroused his curiosity, being perfect, yet neither English nor American.
"You were on the bus?" he responded puzzled, for he surely would notice such two rare beauties.
"No, we were here on the beach and you were up a ladder handing down luggage with a funny looking hat on your head," the gray-green eyed girl answered, smiling as she remembered.
"Fits this climate better than a Greek sailor's hat," he countered. "However, I admit it's a bit heavy and hot."
"Matter of opinion," the girl next to the huntress broke in. The two looked enough alike to be sisters. "With a hat such as that, you must also wear big boots?" she joked.
"One wouldn't be a real live cowboy without them!" he chuckled, then added, "Now would he?"
The two girls exchanged glances and said together, "Cowboy?"
"The old scruffy comfortable boots are back in Arizona along with a good horse!" was his response.
"Wouldn't that make you a horseboy?" inquired the blonde. "The horse probably complains because it's all quirk and no pay!"
"Was that a quirt reply or merely quirky? No, sister, if the horse were stabled, it would make him a stable boy," offered the other girl, enjoying her own small joke. "Or an unstable man trying to lead the east end of a cow going west."
"Quiet Sister. You're making an idiom of yourself. Don't offend the man calling him a boy, especially, since he looks as though he's truly feeling his oats! Don't make him a laughing stock caretaker of cattle blessed with a sense of humor? Next you'll be making him into a manure kicker, cowpie-eater or..."
"We must know your name," asked the brown-eyed one, ignoring her puny sister.
"Please call me Dutch. My friends do. It's actually Jacob, but that sounds as though I should wrestle angels or something out of the Bible. If you don't relate to Dutch, Vander Delft will do, but I also answer to Jake or Van"
He wanted to say more but his thinking stopped about the time the blonde caught her breath and moved her shoulders dexterously more in his direction. Then the man felt awkward and didn't know where to look. He wanted to keep eye contact, but his eyes possessed minds of their own and kept wandering up and down their bodies. The girls could only watch his shameless antics with amusement. These two females appeared to know exactly what was going on with his lusty thoughts even before his groping mind fused with the heat of his fantasies. Their voluptuous well-proportioned bodies brought out the irascible thoughts, turning his mind to tantalizing desires. Moisture broke out on his forehead. A heat slowly built beneath bathing suit. This could not by any stretch of his imagination be construed as a usual encounter. He was right, even as he was bemused.
"Your friends may call you what they will but you will always be special to us, Cowboy. My friends call me Era and this is my sister, usually called Thal or Thally," the dark-haired girl replied.
"If Dutch doesn't work for you, believe me, I'll even answer to a hand-signal as a trained animal, as long as it's you two doing the signing!"
The dog heard and began licking his hand. When Era said the words "My friends", she reached over and touched his shoulder with her forefinger. Similar to an electric shock, a thrilling tingle of excitement swept over him.
"Won't you sample some of our fruit?" asked Thally. "You will find it delicious, but it may make you thirsty. You might want to follow it with a drink from our trusty goatskin. You do not know these islands called the Cyclades, until you try this very special tangy drink. It quenches whatever thirst your body feels in this enchanting land."
"Except one," corrected Era, with a surreptitious smile.
Not wanting to ignore such gracious local hospitality, the man sampled first the fruit, then showing the girls he knew how to manage a goatskin bag, upended the container, letting a stream of liquid gurgle down his throat.
"We practice safe eating by always using condiments," offered Thally.
The fruit tasted as an Asian durian fruit without the moisture. It possessed the consistency of a dried mushroom with a fragrant tantalizing taste. It had a slightly aromatic odor, not dissimilar to a sultry barely discernible musk. Next puzzle was the liquor. Definitely unlike any drink he tried before. Neither similar to beer or wine, instead the liquid carried an alcoholic macadamia nut flavor. It soothed his throat and left him feeling more drink was needed. The sensation was pleasant as well as the taste. It left him dreamy-eyed almost drowsy. When they offered the bag again, he did not say no.
"What kind of man are you honestly, Dutch Jake, the boy-cow," asked the blonde, making a game of his name. He felt her sincere interest. It made it doubly important to give an answer from his heart. He did want both to know him better. It was hard concentrating with those gray-green eyes of what could be a Greek goddess holding an evocative expression waiting for an answer. At that moment, he could catapult into those gray-green pools revealing all and striping him to the core.
Earlier an incident happened in Piraieus that jarred his memory. Walking from where the airport bus dropped him to the dock area to catch his ferry to Santorini his route took him through a run-down section of the city. He passed a wheezing old woman, step-sitting in front of her apartment building. It looked suspiciously like a brothel.
Shrunken bare arm covered with limply hanging wrinkled skin raised to attract his attention, as she attempted her unexpected communication. It sounded to his ears as if she were saying, "What are you?" probably referring to his Stetson hat and high-heeled boots.
"American," he answered, quickly continuing on his way, unsure when ferry might depart. But it was a good question his mind now pondered halfway around his world. She didn't mean a philosophical inquiry, but his mind scurried in that direction.
Yes, what am I, he asked himself, while reflecting during his walk back from the car Storage Park to Drina and the ferry docks. What am I, if not a frightened man, playing my game with the chances of existence. The sands of time flow so quickly through my fingers. The real purpose of life escapes me. Ginger's disappearance left a gaping hole in such purpose. One searches long and hard finding such treasure, then the cruel hand of fate slaps it away before its worth can be fully appreciated. How can man be so insensitive to another? Are we not all-sacred beings wrapped around a spark of intelligence? Perhaps that Arizona sun fried my brain! Am I not a typical male, desperately seeking an hour's diversion, chasing a skirt and acting the self-serving man!
Ah, what a work of nature, this man from the west wrapped as a bundle of contradictions. His father's parents came from the Netherlands, "the Old Country" as they used to call it. His mother's parents were descended from English stock with one great great grand-uncle serving George Washington, while becoming a Revolutionary hero in the battle for Long Island early in that war. His war was the Viet Nam conflict, where he first developed more than a passing appreciation for Tai Kwan Do, Akido, and other martial arts. After leaving the army's special services, he turned to university life, majored in several areas, always searching for a profession that would totally absorb his mind and energy. Only the liberal arts appealed to him, leading into real estate. It was a quick moneymaker in the rapidly growing southwest. However, only in the discipline of his body and mind after becoming a student of Lao Tzu's Tao-ism and a practitioner of Zen meditation, did he come close to capturing the essence and infinite beauty of his mental and physical world.
"What would you find if you scratched me?" he asked, as he actually put voice to his answer for the two females. "I guess you'd call me a red-blooded hot-headed American, while being a seeker for truth, and..." Looking from one female to the other, "still trying to find it! What truth can you teach me?"
Jake stopped talking for a moment and studied the light-skinned woman's face. Then he added in an impish tone of voice, "You could also say I am a pursuer of beauty where I can find it, and one who is disappointed in the way man uses his world. Obviously, my pursuit led me here to the true beginning of what my search is all about. And you are my answer."
Reaching over, he took Thally's hand, pulled her to a standing position, played with his voice, making it became sonorous. In the tone of a wise old judge pronouncing a final judgment, he said, "I am a seeker, now I have found perfection. I look for classical beauty and here it resides, still alive and well on the beaches of Kamari. Classical beauty was born in Greece over four thousand years ago and over the last four millenniums miraculously developed into what I see presently before me!"
The two laughed together, amused by his playful pronouncement. Then Era also got to her feet saying, "You almost sound Greek with your effusive charm. You sure your father was an authentic Neanderthal, big guy?"
"That was Netherlander," he corrected, "as in Dutchman!"
"Well, when it comes to seeking truth," commented the dark-haired Era, "it becomes one of life's trivial pursuits. You must learn one needs not seek it, but be it. You already know the truth. You are the magic of your own thoughts. It's one of the gifts from the gods! Like the netherland I have down below!"
But the cowboy never heard the truth of Era's simple words. He was mesmerized, caught in the ethereal looks of the one his mind was already calling Thally.
"What are you asking of me with those wild and vivacious eyes?" inquired the smiling blonde, moving her slender hand to his face and looking directly into his blue eyes.
"Since you are now dressed for it, Dutch man, you must go for a swim with us right now. I want to see your slender body moist and shinning. It is so long and so white. Are you long and white in other places as well?" Her voice sounded musical, as she almost sung her invitation to this newfound friend.
If she touched one more time, he would be her slave. She did. Taking his arm and gently pulling her weight forward, she stood upright. Excitement filled him. Her skin against his and thrills burned though his nervous system. Her touch then became even more familiar, and like the liquid in the goat-bag, he wanted more.
The classic beauty resembling something out of Greek mythology ran ahead, pulling him along behind her. The other Greek girl ran beside him, caught his other hand, and he became their plaything as they sported with him on the shore. Spray from the surf splashed their faces as they ran near the water's edge. Then they turned seaward and took the plunge!
Boats of ancient Greek design bobbed at anchor close to the swimming area. Splashing water behind them with their strong kick, all three headed for the closest anchored boat in a mock race. Several bobbed up and down on the waves. Both women were fantastic swimmers, as if born to the sea and using it for their workout most of their lives. Was that how they stayed slim and trim? His slightly bloated stomach was proof he was off the back of Starlight too long. He felt self-conscious. Vowed to eat more salads all the way to the states. Nasty promise, considering all the best restaurants of Europe were within a two hour flight from Athens airport--- less wine and more lettuce. Ugh!
He was out of breath, when they finally clutched the blue boat's side. It bore red stripes with a red bottom. On the back transom was written the name Shamiradin. He reached for the centerboard where oarlocks are usually found and sought the boat's support. The huntress did a surface dive as did her friend, and from under water they studied the man's body together. The water was crystal clear. He slowly pumped his feet expecting their heads to bob up at any moment. It didn't happen. What did happen was a surprise.
Off came his suit in one downward sweep. His manhood being newly exposed could now receive their close examination. What they saw danced pearl-white in the crystal clear water. In the moment before he could dive and give chase, they surveyed the man's most private parts and raised thumbs up in approval.
Going under the boat, the girls surfaced on other side and pulled themselves over the gunnels and into the craft, laughing all the while. When the man's head broke the surface beside them, Era looked down and said, "Well, hello there! Do you care to join us? I think we do have room up here. Look what we found! Full of under-nourished seaweed, we successfully emptied it."
"Thanks a lot. That certainly was thoughtful of you," replied the dog-paddling man. "I was fortunate you two came along. Look at me, I'm one lucky fellow!"
"You don't know the half of it, Jacob Vander Delft," commented the light-skinned woman still wringing out her blonde hair. His ear caught a hidden message in her words.
"Maybe I wasn't so lucky," he groaned as he pulled his more tender parts over the rough wood of the boat's gunwale.
"You were not cut!" was the first thing the huntress said.
"Well, I cut myself shaving yesterday morning," he joked, but that was all the thought he gave her remark.
"Where you from? Your slight accent is noticeable. You're Greek, now, aren't you? Now that I've lost my swimsuit to you, the least you can do is tell me more about yourselves!"
Era, the dark-haired one, tossed him his suit. He laid it over the splintered seat as protection for his more tender parts.
"You will know all about us in good time," said the one calling herself Thally, "and you will find the future is not what it use to be."
"Think of us as your new found playmates from down the road," suggested Era, laughing at the thought. "Your friendly frisky females here to show you famous Greek hospitality, as well as other things you wanted to know but were too shy to ask."
"I see," he answered. "Sort of the Kamari topless welcome wagon with all kinds of surprising goodies! This should catch on with all the tourist resorts. Maybe Balearic Islands will lose some of its attraction." Then he looked only at the gray-green eyes of the blonde and said, "If you hadn't told me your name, I should think it must be Diana or Artemis. It goes more with your personality. You remind me so much of the way westerners picture Artemis, the huntress, and I did find a dog at your feet when we first met. Admit it, you left your bow and quiver of arrows along with your clothes in your room!"
Thally's expression suddenly changed. With eyes flashing, she lashed out at him with her next words. "Heartless Artemis, the bitch in eternal heat who can not get enough of her brother! She who became insanely jealous of her female lover and killed her? She, who forever afterwards allowed only her twin brother to satisfy her lust? You would presume I could be her!"
Era quickly tried to smooth over the situation with, "I'm sure the Neanderthal.."
"Netherlander!" interrupted the man.
"...didn't know what a butch or witch Artemis could be. It was a poor choice of words, nothing more. After all what can this western man know of such things?" Era finished.
"Artemis's frigid nipples are merely the tips of that ice-berg!"
The sounds of people on the beach could be heard in the far distance. Close at hand low circling sea gulls cried among themselves as they fought for position in case the fishing boat below held any offerings. Waves lapped at the sides of their boat and filled in the silence that sprung up between them. They were in a world by themselves, the shore and crowd a hundred yards distant.
The sharp eyes of Era saw the edges of a folded faded brown canvas below her seat and pulled it from its place. Spreading on top of the nets that occupied the space between the two women and the man in the rear, Era said, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to lay in the sun and let it dry me off." Down came bikini bottoms as she stretched out. "There's room for two more down here."
The effect was exactly as intended. Attention focused upon present and what was available for their threesome to enjoy, if they but took the opportunity. Era believed wholeheartedly in triolism.
"Look Thally, I didn't mean to offend you. I thought it to be a compliment," he began moving down beside Era. "What I should say is, you reminded me of Aphrodite, a Venus rising, epitome of what every female form can be when perfect."
"Keep talking. You'll get it right yet!" encouraged Era.
His hips touched the cool damp skin of Era and it felt good. Not to be left behind, the last of the three flopped down on the canvas putting the man between her and her sister. They now lay together. With a quick movement the last of the bikini bottoms was removed. All three now lay on their backs, watching circling birds cutting lazy patterns beneath the occasional cloud in the otherwise clear blue sky. Then the sea gulls left, realizing any tasty-tidbits down below would not be shared with them. Perhaps the sunbathers on the beach would be more generous.
"Thank you for saying I could compare with Aphrodite," stated Thally. "By Aphrodite's belly, you do know how to make up for a previous mistake. I value that characteristic in a man." Her hand found its way into his as they continued to study the few small clouds above them. Then she broke the silence again. "What are you thinking?" she inquired, in a soft voice.
"What any lusty, horny, red-blooded male would think!" came back the answer. He wanted to touch her silky skin and caress her body. She brought his hand up to her breasts as though she read his mind. Now things were actually looking up. He rolled on his stomach so as to free his right hand for better movement and felt at least one thing newly developing beneath him.
"You are a whole and complete man?" asked the well-endowed blonde making her long slender legs comfortable.
He could see her face better from this position. It showed more merriment than concern. He could tell she was enjoying the exploration of his right hand.
"I've been sniped here and there as anyone would be if they had their tonsils out," he answered, making a joke of it.
"We prefer our men uncut and well developed," explained the brown-eyed full-hipped Era. "They say trolls come at night while male babies are sleeping and steal their foreskins to sell. Witches use them in their love potions."
"We are always curious for whom the trolls sell," sniggered the blonde.
"Sounds the child's fable to me!" He made a face and wondered what the light-haired woman was thinking. Then it occurred to him what the joke was, and how the two took him right into it. He laughed at their duplicity and his own innocence.
"Gotcha. Now make me happy," invited Thally, taking hand from breast and putting it where hairs were moist and glistening.
His fingers found new territory to explore. She lay back watching his face. All the while his fingers traced a path around the tight little rim of her pleasure bowl.
"What might I find here?" he asked playfully.
"Whatever you're looking for, I am sure you will find," came from the dark-haired Era. "Where else could one find the end of any rainbow with its fabulous treasure to enjoy. Be a hero. Go for it in duplicate!" she challenged, not wanting to be forgotten or ignored.
"My sister has a foot fetish," informed Thally, "but she'll settle for seven or eight inches anytime."
"Keep planting thoughts and we'll see if anything sprouts," suggested Era.
"Ceres always says males have the only thing that must be grown before it's planted," observed Thally.
Then he rose to the occasion and allowed Era to pull his free hand to the area of her furry jungle triangle as well. Kneeling between their two naked bodies, he worked his magic with both hands busy. Both made joyful sounds in response to his energetic attentions. Both their lower bodies slowly swayed in rhythm to his diligent sweet digital labors. He felt as if he were directing a mighty orchestra made up of two.
Thally sighed while murmuring, "It's nice to be kneaded."
"Yes, yes!" cried Era, over and over. She let her body slowly stretch to its full length and rolled her eyes in pleasure. For moments she crushed his industrious hand between her thighs. She closed her eyes and for the moment remained in her own world of virulent sensual stimulation. You can click here and go backward to a page of poetry found on page 2. What you read in this first chapter was to entice you to go to 1st Books.com to buy the entire work of Gift From The Gods. Only makes sense, right?
The author and his Chinese wife at their booksigning.