Greek Myth

I recently moved to Athens, Greece. Here, all the men are hot. No exceptions. 

Fine, maybe not all. But if you take a walk in the streets, you will most likely pass by all kinds of beautiful men of all types and complexions. 

As a gay man, my radar is, to be modest, quite well-tuned at this point. The other day, I passed by this policeman. My dream man. Tall, chestnut-colored hair and eyes blue like the Mediterranean sea. We exchanged looks and I knew he too was devouring me with his eyes. 

What if i had asked him out?

We meet up for a quick drink in a bar in Monastiraki, the hip neighborhood of the town, chatting happily as we get to know each other. 

Then we’re back at his place. Barely have we entered his quaint apartment, my shirt is off, now his too. 

Centimeter by centimeter, he kisses my chest, slowly moving downwards. It gives me chills with his lips soft and his beard rugged. Eventually, he makes it to my cock, which by then had become an entity of its own, bursting with desire. He opens the zipper of my pants, grabs me and starts sucking me off in a tender desire to both induce my pleasure and defy me. 

I accept the challenge. We jump on the bed, and I start sucking him off too. I taste, in him, the carnal freshness of the Mediterranean sea - the ambiguity too, of the innocence of desire and the evil of pleasure.