The Preacher's Wife, Chapter Three

            Before Rory left her alone in a hotel room on Skiathos, he told Maggie that he had a friend on the island of Skopelos.

            "He was 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. "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 won't presume anything, if that's what worries you.  And hey, Sheila, things are casual on the islands.  You're a cool lady, so 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. " If you rush, you can catch the one-thirty ferry and you'll be there about two-thirty. 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 with a sheer white blouse that she tied beneath her breasts. She checked out of the hotel, and walked to the ferry landing a few blocks away. "Four 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. He shook her hand, "I'm Charles. That's my real name by the way."

           "Rory called me Sheila, so I guess I'll still Sheila. I'm sorry to impose on you," she answered.

            "No problem. 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 though the village to a restaurant with rough, wooden, outside tables shaded by a grape arbor. Skopelos was similar to Skiathos but the village was even smaller.

            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. "Until this trip I had never been more than a few hundred miles from home," she said.  So, this is all new to me." She looked around. "It's 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 unthreatening. "That would be nice -- but only if I pay for lunch." Best not to be indebted to him.

            "That's a deal," he answered. "I have a car parked at the ferry landing and my house is only a short distance. Let's go."


            Charles parked on the dirt road in front of a small, weathered house. "This is home," he said. Inside at the center was a combination living room and kitchen opening at each end to a bedroom. "The bathroom is there," he said, pointing. "Let's go onto the deck so you can see the view." They stepped out through a glass door onto a wooden deck.

            Maggie breathed in sharply. "This is incredible," she said. The deck looked out at 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 a dozen houses, each with an overhanging deck 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. "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 my body is white. I'll look like a ghost."

            "I understand. Let's put on our swimwear."

            She thought a moment. In her mind she had prepared herself to appear topless on a Greek 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 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. After the initial shock, she was suddenly comfortable with her nudity.  "A naked body," she thought, "Who cares?"  

            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 to join him. She put her arms around him for support, her breasts pressed against his chest. She shuddered at the intimacy, willing herself not to pull away.

           "It's fantastic," 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 with her legs trailing as he walked 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 knee.

            She turned her face toward him and looked into his eyes.  He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. She didn't move her face away and he kissed her on the lips and it became a long lingering kiss, and she twisted her body around to sit on his lap, her legs wrapped around him, her breasts against his face as she lowered her mouth to his and gentle wavelets of green water washed over her chest.    

            "Whew!' he said, breathlessly, breaking away from her. "Are you ready to go back to the beach?'

            "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.

            She broke off the kiss and looked around apprehensively. A couple was lying on the sand about fifty feet away. A middle-aged woman with a fat belly and pendulous breasts walked by at the edge of the water a few feet away.

            "Should we be doing this here?" she asked.   

            "We can go to the house if you wish. But sex on the beach is pretty common around here." He lowered his head to kiss her breasts.

            "I'll need to get a condom."

            He laughed. "I happen to have one in my bag."

            "Are you sure we're not going to shock that couple over there." She looked over at the tall, blond couple on the sand.

            He laughed again. "Hardly. They've had sex with everyone in the neighborhood." He waved at the couple and shouted. "Hi, Oscar. Hi, Alicia."

            They called back, "Hi, Charles. Who's the new girl?"

            "Her name is Sheila. She's an American."

            "Hi, Sheila. Welcome to paradise."

            Charles kissed her again, his mouth went to her breasts. "You have the most wonderful breasts. Untouched by sun.  Virgin tits," he laughed.  "And pointy nipples."

            "I've never been naked on the beach before -- or even topless. So I am kind of a virgin."   His hand found her vulva. "Careful, please. I'm a little sore."  To herself she said, "Sore because a few hours ago Rory was fucking me in that hotel room on Skiathos.  I should be feeling ashamed of myself.  But I'm not."    

            "Do you want to do this?" he asked politely. I can do you with my mouth if its going to hurt you."

            "No, I want you to fuck me."

            She laid back and relaxed as he probed within her. "I can't believe I'm here," she thought. "This is a dream. I'm on a beach with and a guy who has a gigantic cock.  For the first time in my life I have no obligation to be prim and proper in public." Her natural reserve had been erased by grilled octopus, beer, nudity, a nice man, and the romance of a beach on a wine dark sea.

            "Is something wrong?" Charles asked. "You've gone away."

            "No," she answered, kissing his cheek. "I was just thinking. My sex life has been so bland, so black and white. And suddenly with you -- and Rory. I'm on a beautiful island, and everything is in vivid colors. Free at last. Oh, God, I'm so happy! Fuck me now."

            He smiled at her.  "I wondered about you and Rory. He is quite the ladies man.  I'll try to live up to his standards."  He reached into his bag, found the condom, handed it to her, and said, "Do you want to put it on me?"

            She took the condom from him, sat up, bit off the corner of the package, took it out and unrolled it. He laid on his back, his penis sticking straight up in the air. "Oh my God," she thought, "It's ten inches long."  She rolled the condom down around his penis. "You're ready," she said with a nervous giggle.

            "More than ready."

            "But carefully, please."

            "You're a little afraid of my cock, aren't you? "

            She laughed. "I've never seen one that big."

            "It will fit. My wife is smaller than you."

            "Does she suspect that you might be on a beach with another woman?" Asking him about his wife was a mistake she thought, mentally kicking herself.  

            Charles was unruffled. "Yes. She was here last summer, so she knows the situation. And, she....uh...participated."

            "I don't think my husband has a clue."

            "Do you have a good sex life?"

            "No. I mean he fucks me every night, but it lasts about two minutes -- and sometimes I come, but it's all very routine. He relieves himself. That's all. He never asks whether I enjoy it or not. Sex is something we do, but we don't talk about it because he thinks it's shameful." She added with a giggle, "I love to talk about sex." 

            "We'll talk about it.  But first..."  He moved from her side and took up a position at a right angle to her with his body beneath her raised legs and guided his penis into the opening of her vagina.  "This is a favorite position of mine.  I can watch you and one hand is free to play with your tits and your pussy.  Some women don't like it, because I can't get inside you as deeply as I can in other positions."  He added with a smile.

            She felt his penis slip inside her, slowly, going deeper, She gasped.  "I don't think depth is going to be a problem."

            His hands massaged her breasts and moved downward, finding the clitoris in her narrow slit, exploring it with his fingers as he moved rhythmically, his penis going in and out. She reached downward and felt his penis with her hand, taking it out of her and massaging it with her hand, feeling its length and girth. 

            "If you do that much longer, I'll come -- all over you."

            "Promise?"  she laughed.  She took her hand away and they relaxed together. She suddenly remembered the couple twenty steps away from them. She glanced in that direction. Oscar was lying on his back. Alicia was crouched over him, her head between his legs, her mouth circling his penis. Oscar waved at her. She waved back.

            "Does this go on every day here?"

            "More often than not."   

            She began arching her back to take him deeper inside her and his fingers caressed her clitoris.  "Get on top of me," she said.  "I want to take you that way.  All of you. Every fucking inch."          

            "Oh, you are randy.  I like that."  He pulled his penis out of her and sat up between  her spread legs, leaned forward and prepared to enter her.   

             "I'm getting used to fucking as a sport, not a duty."   She reached down with her hands and took his penis in her hands.  It was enormous!  With her clasped hands she guided him toward her vagina and slowly and carefully he pushed his way inside. She laid back.  "Well, that thing fit. I'm relieved."    

            "You're funny too."

            "Sex is funny.  The first time I saw a man naked all I could think of was turkey necks and gizzards.  The sexual equipment of a man seems so primitive. So vulnerable." She moved her hand down to his testicles and squeezed them. 

            "Are you lying to me?" Charles said with a grin. 

         "About what?"

            "About being a preacher's wife."

            She laughed.  "I am really a preacher's wife, but I'm on vacation."  

            He laughed so hard he had to pull his penis out of her and turned over on his back, his penis erect and shaking with the rest of his body.  She was indignant but smiling.  "Well, it's true, damn it! I've been a good girl all my life. I desperately need a little excitement and romance, to escape Kansas for a few days.  Now," she added, "if you are done laughing you can resume fucking me."        

            "With pleasure."  He rolled over on top of her and put his penis into her.

            She gasped again and kissed him on the lips.  "And besides all that, I want to know what it's like to be fucked by a man with a giant cock."    

            They laughed together as he stroked inside.  "Keep going. I'm ready. Oh, God, am I ready!" She wrapped her legs around his abdomen and raised her hips to facilitate his passage.

            "The sun is going down. Let's come as it slips below the horizon."

            "I read somewhere that there's a green flash just as the sun goes out of sight."

            "Just shut up and fuck." 

            "Do me, Indiana Jones." 

            "Okay, the sun has almost disappeared. Let's go together." He began to pump quickly and she locked her legs around his stomach, rocking her hips back and forth in rhythm with him.

            "I'm coming, coming, I'm coming! Harder."

            "Me too. Now. Together." She felt the weight and size of his penis, as it penetrated her in long, strong strokes, in and out, and she shuddered from the intensity of the climax.

            He relaxed, letting the weight of his body rest on hers. "Whew! That was good." He laid quietly and she felt his penis shrink inside her, and he put his hand on her crotch and pulled it out of her, rolled over and stripped the condom off.

            "That's a lot of cum," she said, looking at the condom. "Does a big dick produce more cum?"

            He kissed her on the cheek. "You are a lot of fun."

            "It was fun watching that."  The voice came from Oscar. Maggie turned to look at him.  He was sitting on the sand with Alicia and both of them were staring at Charles and Maggie intently.

            "Oh, I forgot about you," Maggie said. She sat up and looked apprehensively at the houses surrounding the beach.  People were sitting on the decks of some of them, looking at the sunset and also watching them have sex on the beach.  The woman with the pendulous breasts was sitting at the edge of the water a stone's throw away.  "Oh, shit!  We've been entertaining the whole neighborhood."  

            Charles stood up and pulled her to her feet.  "Take a bow," he said, and the two of them bowed and the people watching clapped their hands and whistled.

            Oscar and Alicia walked over to them. "May we  join you?" asked Oscar. They were in their early thirties, Maggie guessed.  Alicia was three or four inches taller than Maggie and more curvaceous with blond hair cascading over her shoulders, hiding her nipples. Oscar was also tall, blond, slender, handsome. Both of them were shaved in their public areas.

            "Oscar and Alicia are from Sweden," Charles explained as the couple laid out a blanket next to theirs. "They've been here almost a month."

            "We're schoolteachers," Alicia said. "On holiday for summer. We have a son. He's staying with his grandparents." She spoke a stilted, grammatical, accented English. She sat down beside Maggie.

            They chatted amiably "How did you meet Charles?" asked Alicia.

            "I met his friend, Rory, on Skiathos. Rory was going back to Australia, so he asked Charles to show me around Skopelos. And here I am."

            "Oh, yes, Rory," said Alicia. "We all love Rory."


            "I -- and the fat Englishwoman sitting there on the beach. I'm sorry. It is cruel to say that. She is not fat, but that is what we call her. She loved Rory. And now she loves my husband." She continued with a smile, "My husband is a little jealous. I had Rory and Charles and he has only the fat Englishwoman. But now you are here."

            "Is she hinting I should fuck her husband?" asked Maggie to herself. "This is surreal."   

            "Rory is good, is he not?" Alicia asked.

            "And Charles is..."

            "Large." They laughed together.

            "We must go," said Alicia, standing up and beckoning to Oscar. "The Englishwoman is coming for dinner and I will sleep alone. It is okay. I need a rest. It was very pleasant to meet you. Goodbye, Charles."

            After the two of them left, Charles rolled up their blanket and stuffed their towels in his shoulder bag and the two walked, arm in arm, away from the sea and toward his house.

            "Does everybody here shave their public area," Maggie asked.

            Charles laughed. "Most people do. It's symbolic. It shows that you have nothing to hide."

            "I'd like to shave."

            "I'll do it for you, if you wish. I'm an archaeologist. We're accustomed to doing delicate work," he joked. "But won't your husband notice when you get home?"

            "He never looks at me. And it will grow back quickly. Won't it?"

            "It'll take a month."

            "I can hide it from him."

            "Okay, tell me when you're ready. First, some food and another beer?"

            They sat together at the kitchen table eating and drinking. Neither of them bothered to put on clothes. It was hot in the house. A mild, warm wind came in through the open door.

            "I'm ready. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

            "Absolutely. Pussy shaving is a job for an expert."


           He led her into her bedroom and spread a towel on the bed. "Lie down, my dear Sheila, and spread your legs. I'll get a razor." He went into the bathroom and came out a moment later, safety razor in hand.

            "Be careful with that thing," Maggie said.

            "Have no fear. Wider. Spread your legs wider." He crouched on the floor between her outspread legs. He felt her pubic hair. "Hmm....maybe some olive oil to soften the hair." He left and returned with a squeeze bottle of oil. He sprayed some oil on his hand and began to rub it into her hair and skin.

            "You use olive oil for everything here, don't you? she said. "Rory put some on my tits. He said they were dry." She felt her breasts. "Oh, my nipples are cracking."

            "Here." He sprayed a pool of olive oil between her breasts. She rubbed it in.

            She lay spread-eagled on the bed as he shaved her. "Finished," he said. You are as hairless as a baby. And as beautiful." He pulled the towel from beneath her hips and rolled it up and threw it in a corner. "Let me inspect my work. Keep your legs spread."

            He touched his tongue to her clitoris, then down to her vagina, and then explored her anal area. "Hold very still," he said.

            I'm trying to," she said.

            He plunged his tongue into her vagina, holding the lips of her vulva apart, and then sucked on her clitoris.

            "I'm coming," she said.

            "You are quick."

            Her limbs shook with the intensity of the climax. Vaginal liquid gushed out of her, wetting the bed below her hips. She raised her head and looked at Charles, his head still between her legs, liquid dripping off his face.

            "Oh, my God," she said. "That's never happened before. Are you okay?"

            "I am drowning in pleasure."