Mysterious Summer Romance in the Greek Isles [FM] [Masturbation] [Strangers] [Language Barrier]

*Edited to add all characters 18+*

​

Blue. Everything in my line of sight is varying shades of blue as I look out onto the horizon with the wind whipping my hair back. My book sits in my lap open, but unread for the moment. Instead I tilt my head back, feel the sunshine on my face, let my eyes close and sigh. The sea breeze gives me goosebumps and my thoughts drift to the events of last night. I could almost hear Alexandro’s voice smooth like whisky in my ear. «Κουκλα μου…» My doll. I recall the feel of his lips on my neck, his breathing ragged, his fingers trailing down my body, then slipping into me, then… suddenly an announcement I can’t understand comes on over the intercom and I startle back to the present. I blush once I realize I’m wet between my thighs while sitting on the deck of a cruise ship in the Mediterranean, surrounded by other tourists.

I didn’t mean to have a summer fling. I am not the kind of woman who usually does that sort of thing. And I don’t mean that in a “I’m not like other girls” kind of way. I welcome a casual fuck every so often just as much as the next single woman. I just mean, I’m more likely to spend a night in reading with my vibrator for company than out prowling the bars for a casual hookup. And don’t get me started on the hell that is online dating. Which is partly why I’m on this solo trip to Greece in the first place. I want to cultivate my independence and prove to myself that I am adventurous, spontaneous, and perfectly capable of solo adventures.

But Alexandro… Alexandro was an accident. Something about being caught up in the beauty of a beach-side music café with the waves hitting the rocks and the moon overhead. Okay, maybe the wine too. When Alexandro walked up to me with his broad shoulders, intoxicating green eyes, and cocky smile, I couldn’t help but get curious. When he started talking to me in broken English about his love for books, I was hooked. And back at his place, when he grabbed me by the hair, shoved his tongue into my mouth, and slid his long, hard cock inside of me, I was a goner. I came apart in minutes.

It ended up being an amazing night. But now, I’m Cycladic island bound, ready for a relaxing week of reading, photography, and quietly reflecting on the beach. I expected my time on the mainland would be busier with the sightseeing and the crowds, so I planned ahead to go to a less touristy island. Speaking of which, the boat is slowing down and there’s an expanse of land ahead, peppered with greenery. The announcement earlier must have been notifying us of our impending arrival to Sifnos. I feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach, eager to explore this new beautiful place.

***

I pay the taxi driver and hop out once we arrive in Apollonia. “Sorry,” he says in a heavy accent, “you will need to walk up that hill to your hotel,” he said pointing. I must have looked confused because he added, “the white building with the blue shutters,” and grinned. I thanked him and turned towards the hill only to realize his grin wasn’t just friendly, but part of a great joke at my expense. I sighed and walked towards the steep road with 7 or 8 hotels on it—all white buildings with blue shutters.

Before beginning my trek up the hill, I notice a pier with fishing boats jutting out into the sea. It’s a good spot for a photo, so even though I’m eager to get checked in and changed for the beach, I decide I’m up for a quick detour.

As I stroll, I take in the voices of gruff men speaking loudly to one another as they work, and my eyes take in the new seaside views. My eyes catch on shoulders of a lean, tall, tan figure bent over untying the ropes of his boat. Just as I’m admiring him, he looks up and we lock eyes.

His eyes are dark. The darkest, most intense brown I’ve ever seen, with long, black eyelashes. His hair is also dark brown, a little shaggy, but casually pushed back with sweat and maybe salt water. As I take all this in, we’re still locking eyes. I lose my nerve and glance away, but when I look back, he’s still looking at me. His sharp, stubbled jaw clenches slightly and he slowly nods at me in greeting, a glint in his eyes.

My breathing hitches and I feel a heaviness in my stomach. Suddenly shy, I look away again and force myself to keep walking to the end of the pier. I try to snap a few photos, but my gaze keeps returning to the young fisherman, who has returned to his work. Giving up after a few distracted shots, I resolve to finally check in at the hotel and hit the beach.

***

Four hours later, I am sun kissed, salty, and ravenous. I throw on a white, airy sundress, and start to throw my long hair up in a ponytail, but decide to leave it down instead. I grab fresh seafood and some divine house wine at one of the many local taverns, and decide to take a late walk on the beach before turning in. The wine has gone to my head and I’m feeling tipsy.

The beach is dark, lit only by the moon and the lights from the restaurants. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the man I saw earlier, so I decide to walk back to the pier. I don’t expect anything to come of it, but surprisingly, he is there, sitting on his boat, nursing a beer and smoking a cigarette. He’s wearing swim trunks and a white t-shirt that hugs his lean, strong body. We are practically the only people who have strayed so far from the main part of town. It occurs to me that maybe I should be afraid being out here on my own, but I’m not.

As I get closer, he looks at me curiously, maintaining that intense eye contact just like before. But this time, he half smiles. I tentatively return the smile, feeling shy again. I keep walking because it seems like the most normal thing to do, but when I get to the edge of the pier, I notice that my heart is beating quickly. I think I feel the fisherman’s eyes on me, but I don’t know if it’s just my imagination. I sit down on the dock and look out into the silver expanse of the Mediterranean.

I feel a presence settle beside me. The man sits next to me, leaving a couple feet of space between us. He smiles tentatively at me when I look at him. “Hey,” he says. I mutter a nervous “hi,” then feeling braver despite his intense gaze, I ask, “what is your name?” He frowns. «Συγνώμη, δεν μιλάω αγγλικά.» This time I frown. Of course, he doesn’t speak English. Most Greek people I encountered on the mainland could communicate with me in English, but it looked like my handsome fisherman couldn’t. If only I had done the rational thing and tried learning some Greek before coming.

We’re not speaking now, just sitting here quietly listening to the water. It should feel uncomfortable, sitting inches away from a perfect stranger, in complete silence. Instead, it feels electric, like there’s something wild and crazed between us. I am unbelievably turned on, and I feel myself blush scarlet at the thought of being aroused by this mysterious, unknowable man. I’m not sure if he feels something shift between us, because he turns to look directly at me. Our eyes have adjusted to the dark by now, and I see his turn impossibly darker. His gaze travels to my lips and lingers there. His breath grows slightly heavier, a change I probably wouldn’t have noticed if my senses were not acutely aware of everything. He looks down at the space between us and slowly touches my hand with his, quickly looking up to make sure I’m okay with the contact.

Little does he know that his simple touch has sent lightning bolts through my nerves. I can feel the wetness between my thighs, and a heaviness. I look down at his long, strong fingers and I can stop thinking of them being inside me. Then, when he pulls them out, slick with my wetness, he can shove them in my mouth while his other hand holds me firmly by the neck. My breath hitches at the vision and he definitely notices, his eyes growing wider and returning to my lips.

But, just as I am ready to give it all to this strange man right on the dock, he stands up, subtly adjusts himself, holds his hand out to me and helps me up. We walk towards the main part of town. I expect him to continue with me, but once we reach a well-lit area he stops, kisses me lightly on each cheek, and turns back the way we came. I walk back to my hotel room in a daze.

***

I’m back on the dock with the man. This time, when he pulls me up, he also pulls me towards him. One of his hands sits on my back, holding me close to him as he crushes his mouth to mine. His tongue demands my own and we groan into each other as his other hand travels downwards and cups my ass. He stops kissing me and roughly tilts my face upwards, those dark eyes glaring straight into my soul. He grabs my hand and forces it up against the hard bulge in his trunks. He lifts up my dress and slides his hand into my panties, practically growling when he feels how wet I am. He slips a finger inside, and then another…

I wake up from my dream grinding against the bed and I physically cannot stop myself from sliding my hand down to my soaking, quivering cunt. I slip a finger inside myself, and then another, and moan. I am gushing. I take my fingers out and put them in my mouth, tasting my wetness, tasting my want for him. I slide my other hand down and run my clit in a circular motion. I close my eyes and continue my fantasy.

He takes me by the hand and leads me to his boat, where inside there is a bed. But for now, he pushes me downwards and I kneel on the floor. Once again, he grabs under my chin and forces my gaze to his, fire in his eyes, then he takes out his long, hard cock. I whimper and grab it by the shaft. I wrap my swollen lips around the tip and slowly slide up and down. He closes he eyes and groans. I suck his cock wet and sloppy, going as deep as I can, until I’m gagging and need to pull back some. I grab him, and slowly jack him off as I suck his balls. At that, he grabs me by the hair, pulls me up, and pushes me onto the bed.

He rips my dress, exposing my tits. He sucks on my nipples and then spreads my legs open. I am so ready for him, he slides right in. I shudder and grit my teeth as he pushes deep into me, and let out a whimper. He must like that because as he pulls out and pushes back in, slow and deep, I can feel him get even bigger inside me. All the while, he’s staring at me with those eyes of his, his jaw clenched, the energy between us still crazed. My nails dig into his shoulders and before I know it I’m cumming, hard, both my the fantasy and in real life, my pussy contracting over and over, leaving me a pathetic, needful mess.

Fuck, I have to find this man. I think, as I doze off again. I need him.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vp087u/mysterious_summer_romance_in_the_greek_isles_fm