K
Kennick
Guest
The bus coming back from the valley of Mélanes dropped us off at the bus stop near the harbour front, where two big vessels just had arrived and troops of tourists were parading out of and into the ships. It was a pandemonium of voices, faces, colours, cars, backpacks, a frenzy seemed to have broken out and the normally quite and idyllic harbour of Naxos disappeared and out came a hungry beast with thousands of heads, hungry for sun, sand, beds, food, drinks and holidays. The white washed houses, the churches and the steeples turned into an aggressive blur of white cubes, angles and edges, the sea seemed to have left the tranquillity of afternoon aside and to be determined to smash the quay with hard foamed waves and spat out an acrid spray that soaked all fabrics with a salty fluid.
With a quick glance that made words superfluous we darted into the little street that led us to the part of Naxos town uphill, where our pensions were. We almost ran, we had to stop and catch our breath, never before had I seen such a sudden change of a harbour front into a vicious organism. I had goose bumps all over and I was trembling. Had reality reached us? Instinctively I reached for Tassos hand and found it damp and looking for mine, my fingers embraced his and he pulled me towards him. I turned to him with a puzzled glance, was caught of guard, when he kissed me tenderly, was surprised to feel his skin also covered with goose bumps and was turned into molten metal by the intensity, the crave hidden behind his kiss.
A shriek tore into pieces the soothing silence and we saw the woman of the grocery shop pointing at us and spatting venom and bile in Greek, she poured out the whole set of curses over our head and began to insult our parents for having raised offsprings of the evil that would spoil the young and innocent Greeks and would give Greece a bad reputation of a land of queers and gays. To hell she sent us and the first windows opened to let heads pop out. White flames of anger, molten lava of contempt and venom ac
ulated in years of guilt and disappointment rose inside of me and with the coldest of all voices that I am capable of speaking I cut her off. This time in Greek and not in German, as I had pretended in her shop, I returned her the favour of being publicly exposed. Little, well aimed words speaking of bigotry, shame upon her head to say such words, shame upon her family to have risen one of the furies, blindness of soul and acrid words of living of the tourists and despising them came out of my mouth. A deadly silence fell upon us, the moment I catched my breath, my voice cut through this heavy veil and I added that I should have known better than to buy in her forsaken shop and that Miss Soula had warned me before long to do so. This (and only this!) seemed to crack her spine, with a loud snap she crumbled to the ground, mumbled something about having the full right, but again I unleashed my wrath and told her to be careful, very careful, for she didn't knew whom she was facing and whom she was insulting, she should better think of the mould that covered her own soul, pulled Tassos by his hand, strode forward, passed her with a furious, devastating glance and stomped uphill. The windows shut noisely behind our backs and I heard a distant sobbing wailing in the little street.
Still fuming with anger I realized that I wasn't holding Tassos hand any longer, I turned around and saw him sitting on the steps of a little blue and white painted house that could have been taken out of a postcard. He was sitting there and streams of tears were covering his cheeks. My white hot anger disappeared instantly and I stood there completely helpless, I didn't know what to say, where to start, where to touch him and least of all why he was crying. Finally my left hand reached for his right cheek and like a child seeking for caress, for support, for help he put his head into my hand and burst into tears again. Only then I found my speech back and asked him to calm down, he pulled me next to him, we both sat on the same little staircase and he laid his head on my shoulder. He had heard these reproaches before, he had heard them all a few days ago, before he had left for Naxos. My hands, that were caressing his face, did the speaking for me and he continued to tell me that his flat mate's mother had surprised the two of them both naked in the hall of the flat and he, Tassos, had had a hard-on that very moment. She owned the flat and wanted to clean up, so she had entered it and seen them, although by that time, he hastened to add, there was nothing going on. The flat mate had just wanted to get a shower and Tassos was about to dress up for the evening to go out and had been aroused by the idea of dressing up with his new shirt and suit. A pure coincidence. I coughed and said that it sounded too much of a coincidence for a mother to believe and even I could be inclined to regard this as a good excuse for that moment. Tassos looked up and into my face, he whispered my name and unleashed even more tears. Whether I would think that he lied to me? My heart dissolved in the stream of his passionate tears, no I believed him and wouldn't doubt his words. We kissed, his salty tears blended gently with our saliva and his tongue shyly greeted mine. I took him by the hand again and we strolled back to my pension. Shortly before we arrived, I turned around and stated that this would also explain his strange behaviour towards Miss Soula The Dragon of Naxos. He gulped and nodded. Miss Soula was also faintly related to his godfather, therefore he was also afraid of being exposed to his family. A deep sigh later I nodded upwards to my room and added that I had no relatives on Naxos and that only the good words of a flight attendant had led me to Naxos.
We swiftly climbed the staircase, entered my room and then an idea flashed through my mind. My face must have exceptionally glown that very moment, because Tassos looked at me and asked me what idea just had passed my mind and cracked the first smile after our return to Naxos town. I asked him, whether he had brought a shirt, a good pair of trousers and a tie along. Tassos laughed, his face lost all the traces of the wounded man I had seen sitting on the little steps in front of the archetypical house some moments ago, he laughed and shook his head. What for? I smiled my most enigmatic smile and told him to leave his backpack in my room, just to take his checkcard, creditcard he corrected me, just to take his creditcard, I said bowing ironically to his supposed wealth, and to follow me. Tassos had no chance at all, he was taken off guard and followed me.
Downtown, there was a little shop with clothes for men that I had noticed upon my arrival, because I had wondered, how such a tourist-ignoring shop could survive there, but then I had to tell myself that the people of Naxos also had a life apart from the tourists. They also had weddings, funerals, big occasions and little parties and it would be foolish to travel to Athens everytime they wanted to buy a new t-shirt, shirt or coat, although I couldn't imagine anyone wearing coats there. I asked Tassos, whether he could imagine to wear a coat on Naxos, he smirked and said that every summer had its end and a winter to follow. There was a bitter taste to that sentence, but I chose to ignore the confusing connotation for that moment.
The door gave a strange sound of glistening metal and we stood inside a cramped and odd looking shop with all sorts of clothes and nothing appeared to be suitable. Tassos threw me a glance and started to ask why we came here, when an elder man and his wife came out from behind an eye-blinding curtain, that would have been daring even in the 70ies. I swallowed my non-existing saliva and told them that Tassos and I had been asked to attend a wedding on Paros (in that split-second I thought of the possibility that they could ask us whose marriage and that marriages would be quite a social event in a town like Naxos with just 7.000 inhabitants), so we needed a dark pair of trousers, a white shirt and a tie each. The elder pair squealed with joy, told us that we had come to the right shop (much to our disbelief that very moment) and they scurried away giving orders to each other. Tassos coughed with mock annoyance and smiled at me again, but when I gestured him to be patient, he sighed and stood silently waiting to see the paisley patterned shirt and the polka dot trousers the shop owners would bring us to try on. Much to our disbelief they brought us not only good clothes, but also in our size. This time I was surprised, more than Tassos, because I hadn't thought that they could have told by looking at us, what size we would wear. The woman brought me a navy blue linen pair of trousers, a perfectly white, figure hugging shirt and an equally navy blue linen tie, to match my grey-blue eyes, she added, for all women would fall for them. Tassos fully agreed to that comment and told her that a Miss Soula (he winked at me) would love my eyes. She giggled and asked me to try them on. The man had brought a light sand-coloured cotton pair of trousers, an even tighter shirt, to sculpt his shoulders he said, for women would love to lean on them (his wife giggled and blushed!) and an olive coloured silk tie. We quickly put them on and looked a million drachmas. Oh, we sure would find a suitable girl to marry on that occasion, the older lady fluted. Tassos confidentially touched her hand and entrusted her that he would even be my best man in that occasion. Blissful! she exclaimed.
A considerably high bill later, they were not that overwhelming in terms of giving us a last-minute-before-the-wedding-and-looking-a-million-drachma-discount, we left the shop and strolled back towards the pension, but I took a different way. He let me lead him and didn't bother to ask, for he knew that he would earn another enigmatic smile, I entered the Hotel Château Zevgóli, told him to wait, I came out and we continued our meandering way back, stopped at a cosy restaurant called Óniro (the 'dream' in Greek), told him to wait, he simply shrugged and waved me inside, I came out and we headed back to my pension. When we finally arrived there, we got upstairs and once inside my room I took the bags out of his hands and embraced him. I met him with a lingering kiss and we glided onto my bed, but before he could start to let his hands wander along my body, I stopped him. What? His glance now was the personification of Erotisis, the satyr of question, so I told him, while I was trying to catch my breath after this kiss, that I would meet him sharp 19:00 (i.e. within 3 or 4 hours) in front of his pension, that he should appear in his new clothes and that he should not bother to take anything else but his keys along. Oh, and he should shave. Tassos lowered his glance towards my mounting erection, slightly touched it and asked whether I truly meant this or whether... I stood up and must have looked truly funny with my at full blast erection repeating what I just had said and that I wouldn't accept any objection. Tassos nodded, stood up and his shorts were almost ripped apart by his completely erect cock, he saw to pass me with a gentle brush of his bulge against mine, I moaned, and he said that I wouldn't have to wait longer than a second, that he would be there at sharp 19:00 hours. With that and a shade of a touch of his hand across my yelling for attention and caresses bulge he left my room.
I darted into the bathroom, foamed my face and shaved me cleanly, but to no good, my cock was fully erect and standing guard, it was decided to be attended properly, so I wet my index finger and circled the rim of my gland and gently touched the slit of it. Jets of cream shot up, my six-pack spasmed and I had to grip onto the washer not to lose my balance. I showered and still the erection wouldn't go away, so I took my towel, dried myself and went to the window, where I saw Tassos lying on his bed and tossing and turning in an attempt to find some sleep. A smile found its way to my face, I got dressed, stored my senior perpendicularly away and left the pension with direction to the Hotel Château Zevgoli.
With a quick glance that made words superfluous we darted into the little street that led us to the part of Naxos town uphill, where our pensions were. We almost ran, we had to stop and catch our breath, never before had I seen such a sudden change of a harbour front into a vicious organism. I had goose bumps all over and I was trembling. Had reality reached us? Instinctively I reached for Tassos hand and found it damp and looking for mine, my fingers embraced his and he pulled me towards him. I turned to him with a puzzled glance, was caught of guard, when he kissed me tenderly, was surprised to feel his skin also covered with goose bumps and was turned into molten metal by the intensity, the crave hidden behind his kiss.
A shriek tore into pieces the soothing silence and we saw the woman of the grocery shop pointing at us and spatting venom and bile in Greek, she poured out the whole set of curses over our head and began to insult our parents for having raised offsprings of the evil that would spoil the young and innocent Greeks and would give Greece a bad reputation of a land of queers and gays. To hell she sent us and the first windows opened to let heads pop out. White flames of anger, molten lava of contempt and venom ac
ulated in years of guilt and disappointment rose inside of me and with the coldest of all voices that I am capable of speaking I cut her off. This time in Greek and not in German, as I had pretended in her shop, I returned her the favour of being publicly exposed. Little, well aimed words speaking of bigotry, shame upon her head to say such words, shame upon her family to have risen one of the furies, blindness of soul and acrid words of living of the tourists and despising them came out of my mouth. A deadly silence fell upon us, the moment I catched my breath, my voice cut through this heavy veil and I added that I should have known better than to buy in her forsaken shop and that Miss Soula had warned me before long to do so. This (and only this!) seemed to crack her spine, with a loud snap she crumbled to the ground, mumbled something about having the full right, but again I unleashed my wrath and told her to be careful, very careful, for she didn't knew whom she was facing and whom she was insulting, she should better think of the mould that covered her own soul, pulled Tassos by his hand, strode forward, passed her with a furious, devastating glance and stomped uphill. The windows shut noisely behind our backs and I heard a distant sobbing wailing in the little street. Still fuming with anger I realized that I wasn't holding Tassos hand any longer, I turned around and saw him sitting on the steps of a little blue and white painted house that could have been taken out of a postcard. He was sitting there and streams of tears were covering his cheeks. My white hot anger disappeared instantly and I stood there completely helpless, I didn't know what to say, where to start, where to touch him and least of all why he was crying. Finally my left hand reached for his right cheek and like a child seeking for caress, for support, for help he put his head into my hand and burst into tears again. Only then I found my speech back and asked him to calm down, he pulled me next to him, we both sat on the same little staircase and he laid his head on my shoulder. He had heard these reproaches before, he had heard them all a few days ago, before he had left for Naxos. My hands, that were caressing his face, did the speaking for me and he continued to tell me that his flat mate's mother had surprised the two of them both naked in the hall of the flat and he, Tassos, had had a hard-on that very moment. She owned the flat and wanted to clean up, so she had entered it and seen them, although by that time, he hastened to add, there was nothing going on. The flat mate had just wanted to get a shower and Tassos was about to dress up for the evening to go out and had been aroused by the idea of dressing up with his new shirt and suit. A pure coincidence. I coughed and said that it sounded too much of a coincidence for a mother to believe and even I could be inclined to regard this as a good excuse for that moment. Tassos looked up and into my face, he whispered my name and unleashed even more tears. Whether I would think that he lied to me? My heart dissolved in the stream of his passionate tears, no I believed him and wouldn't doubt his words. We kissed, his salty tears blended gently with our saliva and his tongue shyly greeted mine. I took him by the hand again and we strolled back to my pension. Shortly before we arrived, I turned around and stated that this would also explain his strange behaviour towards Miss Soula The Dragon of Naxos. He gulped and nodded. Miss Soula was also faintly related to his godfather, therefore he was also afraid of being exposed to his family. A deep sigh later I nodded upwards to my room and added that I had no relatives on Naxos and that only the good words of a flight attendant had led me to Naxos.
We swiftly climbed the staircase, entered my room and then an idea flashed through my mind. My face must have exceptionally glown that very moment, because Tassos looked at me and asked me what idea just had passed my mind and cracked the first smile after our return to Naxos town. I asked him, whether he had brought a shirt, a good pair of trousers and a tie along. Tassos laughed, his face lost all the traces of the wounded man I had seen sitting on the little steps in front of the archetypical house some moments ago, he laughed and shook his head. What for? I smiled my most enigmatic smile and told him to leave his backpack in my room, just to take his checkcard, creditcard he corrected me, just to take his creditcard, I said bowing ironically to his supposed wealth, and to follow me. Tassos had no chance at all, he was taken off guard and followed me.
Downtown, there was a little shop with clothes for men that I had noticed upon my arrival, because I had wondered, how such a tourist-ignoring shop could survive there, but then I had to tell myself that the people of Naxos also had a life apart from the tourists. They also had weddings, funerals, big occasions and little parties and it would be foolish to travel to Athens everytime they wanted to buy a new t-shirt, shirt or coat, although I couldn't imagine anyone wearing coats there. I asked Tassos, whether he could imagine to wear a coat on Naxos, he smirked and said that every summer had its end and a winter to follow. There was a bitter taste to that sentence, but I chose to ignore the confusing connotation for that moment.
The door gave a strange sound of glistening metal and we stood inside a cramped and odd looking shop with all sorts of clothes and nothing appeared to be suitable. Tassos threw me a glance and started to ask why we came here, when an elder man and his wife came out from behind an eye-blinding curtain, that would have been daring even in the 70ies. I swallowed my non-existing saliva and told them that Tassos and I had been asked to attend a wedding on Paros (in that split-second I thought of the possibility that they could ask us whose marriage and that marriages would be quite a social event in a town like Naxos with just 7.000 inhabitants), so we needed a dark pair of trousers, a white shirt and a tie each. The elder pair squealed with joy, told us that we had come to the right shop (much to our disbelief that very moment) and they scurried away giving orders to each other. Tassos coughed with mock annoyance and smiled at me again, but when I gestured him to be patient, he sighed and stood silently waiting to see the paisley patterned shirt and the polka dot trousers the shop owners would bring us to try on. Much to our disbelief they brought us not only good clothes, but also in our size. This time I was surprised, more than Tassos, because I hadn't thought that they could have told by looking at us, what size we would wear. The woman brought me a navy blue linen pair of trousers, a perfectly white, figure hugging shirt and an equally navy blue linen tie, to match my grey-blue eyes, she added, for all women would fall for them. Tassos fully agreed to that comment and told her that a Miss Soula (he winked at me) would love my eyes. She giggled and asked me to try them on. The man had brought a light sand-coloured cotton pair of trousers, an even tighter shirt, to sculpt his shoulders he said, for women would love to lean on them (his wife giggled and blushed!) and an olive coloured silk tie. We quickly put them on and looked a million drachmas. Oh, we sure would find a suitable girl to marry on that occasion, the older lady fluted. Tassos confidentially touched her hand and entrusted her that he would even be my best man in that occasion. Blissful! she exclaimed.
A considerably high bill later, they were not that overwhelming in terms of giving us a last-minute-before-the-wedding-and-looking-a-million-drachma-discount, we left the shop and strolled back towards the pension, but I took a different way. He let me lead him and didn't bother to ask, for he knew that he would earn another enigmatic smile, I entered the Hotel Château Zevgóli, told him to wait, I came out and we continued our meandering way back, stopped at a cosy restaurant called Óniro (the 'dream' in Greek), told him to wait, he simply shrugged and waved me inside, I came out and we headed back to my pension. When we finally arrived there, we got upstairs and once inside my room I took the bags out of his hands and embraced him. I met him with a lingering kiss and we glided onto my bed, but before he could start to let his hands wander along my body, I stopped him. What? His glance now was the personification of Erotisis, the satyr of question, so I told him, while I was trying to catch my breath after this kiss, that I would meet him sharp 19:00 (i.e. within 3 or 4 hours) in front of his pension, that he should appear in his new clothes and that he should not bother to take anything else but his keys along. Oh, and he should shave. Tassos lowered his glance towards my mounting erection, slightly touched it and asked whether I truly meant this or whether... I stood up and must have looked truly funny with my at full blast erection repeating what I just had said and that I wouldn't accept any objection. Tassos nodded, stood up and his shorts were almost ripped apart by his completely erect cock, he saw to pass me with a gentle brush of his bulge against mine, I moaned, and he said that I wouldn't have to wait longer than a second, that he would be there at sharp 19:00 hours. With that and a shade of a touch of his hand across my yelling for attention and caresses bulge he left my room.
I darted into the bathroom, foamed my face and shaved me cleanly, but to no good, my cock was fully erect and standing guard, it was decided to be attended properly, so I wet my index finger and circled the rim of my gland and gently touched the slit of it. Jets of cream shot up, my six-pack spasmed and I had to grip onto the washer not to lose my balance. I showered and still the erection wouldn't go away, so I took my towel, dried myself and went to the window, where I saw Tassos lying on his bed and tossing and turning in an attempt to find some sleep. A smile found its way to my face, I got dressed, stored my senior perpendicularly away and left the pension with direction to the Hotel Château Zevgoli.
