I think most gay guys dream about getting laid on a Greek island. I know I did. I finally got it together this summer. I went to celebrate coming out of the closet after eight years trying to go straight. Suzanne and I were what you call college sweethearts. Our fathers were business partners and everyone took it for granted we would get married. So we found ourselves in a situation that's easy to get into but from which it's hellish difficult to get out. Almost as hard as constructing this last sentence in fact. Not that ours was a bad marriage. We had much in common and had a lot of fun together. Of course I was unfaithful many times but never with a woman. And I always wore a rubber. Then Sue started sleeping around too and eventually met a guy she was hot on. I was hot on him too but she won.

Anyway, to celebrate my new freedom I paid a visit to Europe and, as I said, ended up on a Greek island. I arrived in Athens, did the quick tour and then headed for the little bunch of islands that lie between Greece and Turkey. I won't tell you which one I chose because I don't want you hot-tailing it over there and stealing Yannis from me. Yes, that's his name. Yannis. Now read on.

I was told by the tour agent that all I had to do was get off the boat and talk to the guy in the local cafe. He would direct me to someone who had rooms to let. I was directed to a little fisherman's cottage near the beach. Just like the sort you see on picture postcards. They actually exist by the way. The place belonged to an elderly couple. There was a German guy staying there too but we had our own rooms. He spoke a little Greek. I explained to him that I wanted to go scuba diving if that was possible. He spoke to the old lady and what he translated came out as, "My man take you on the boat." Her husband looked like a wizened version of Anthony Quinn having a bad hair day so I didn't really fancy being "taken on any boat" by him. I'd have preferred cruising down the river with his grandson, so to speak. Which is more or less what happened.

The old man had to go fishing the next day and I was handed over to his grandson at six o'clock in the morning. He sure as hell was cute. He wasn't exactly my idea of a hunky Greek fisherman. I mean your actual sloe eyed, olive skinned Adonis. But I certainly wouldn't have thrown him out of bed. After a good scrub that is. I mean his white cotton shirt and baggy pants looked like they'd been washed a lot more often in sea water than in the washing machine. They also smelt unpleasantly of fish. Still, altogether he was a real appetising package and not to be sniffed at, so to speak. That was my first impression of fair-haired, blue-eyed Yannis. He spoke no English. Well that's not exactly true as he spoke an odd, colorful mixture of English, French, German, Spanish and a few other languages he'd picked up from tourists. Even a little Japanese I believe. However, I had something of a problem distinguishing them. Anyway, he smiled a lot and had pearly white teeth so we got along fine.

He had a little fishing boat with some fishing rods and a few nets. There was no sign of scuba masks but in a corner there was something plastic that looked like a picnic basket. He took the boat way off shore so there was nobody else to bother us. I felt a little like Robinson Crusoe with his Man Friday.

We tried to do a little fishing but the fish weren't biting. As he stood behind me, showing me how to use the fishing rod, I could feel the heat of his dick breathing down my butt. I began having curious thoughts about his own rod. Wondered what it was like.

I didn't have long to wait. He put the fishing line back in its place and jumped into the water. Then he slipped out of his clothes like a fish and threw them onto the boat. I followed suit. The water was gorgeous. Limpid blue. Naturally, I took a good look at his dick. The water may have had an enlarging effect on it but I don't think so. His body was lithe and beautiful and he swam like a dream. Suddenly I felt so happy and carefree. It was so great swimming beside him underwater and looking at all the flora and fauna. At one point I caught him looking appreciatively at my fauna but I may have been mistaken. When we got back in the boat we stretched out in the sun and now there was no doubt. He was definitely interested in my fauna and I hadn't brought a rubber. Who thinks about that at 5:30AM in the morning. I certainly don't.

He lay there smiling at me for a moment and then said, "You like dick?"

It sounded like he was introducing me to a friend of his. Which I suppose in a way he was. But I knew exactly what he meant. I nodded. I most certainly did like his dick. In fact I just couldn't wait to be introduced. He didn't need an introduction and was at once down on me and giving me the blow job of a lifetime. One that blew my mind. And it wasn't even seven o'clock yet. I've never been given a blow job in a fishing boat before. And I've never been given one quite like that. I know you'd like me to go into intricate detail as to how he ran his tongue up and down my penis and then inserted the tip of it into my uncut foreskin etc. etc. but I'd rather leave the rest to your vivid imagination.

Suffice to say the effect was electric and sent shudders right down to my toes. I lifted his head to mine and kissed him gratefully and his tongue gave me unmitigated delight. Don't know why I chose that word but I do know I wanted to swallow him whole and take him straight back to the States with me. I wanted him in my bed right now. I wanted my dick inside him. I wanted to possess him. He was mine.

Nobody had ever had that kind of instant effect on me and I have a feeling nobody is ever likely to do so again. Certainly nobody will be able to give me such a threefold thrill just with their tongue. First my dick, then my mouth, then my ass. His tongue was everywhere. Seemingly at once. Giving me a taste of how the rest of him would be.

The boat rocked to and fro and we both fell out. I suddenly had an overwhelming desire to fuck him in the water. Better still underwater if such a thing is possible. That was the glorious thing about this whole experience. Nobody had made me feel so vibrant. So happy to be alive. So virile. In short nobody had made me feel so full of potent potentiality. I felt capable of absolutely anything and it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

We kissed and fooled around in the water for a while and then he took my hand and drew me toward the boat. I tell you, I felt just like Esther Williams in one of those Turner classics. He took me to a deserted part of the island where there was an old fishing hut looking the worse for wear.

Who would have thought that such a dilapidated place was going to bring us more joy and satisfaction than a five-star honeymoon hotel.

We dragged the boat up on the beach and attached it to a rock. Then he unloaded the picnic basket and prepared lunch even though it wasn't nine o'clock yet. We sat on the steps of the fishing hut and ate all those things you eat in restaurants and which never taste the same. To drink there was water and there was ouzo. We drank the ouzo. The sun was getting pretty hot by now and of course so were we. Hot and heady from the wine. We took the table cloth into the hut with us and lay on it. We kissed and touched each other for a while, sucked a little dick, and then fell asleep. I felt like we'd known each other forever and it wasn't ten o'clock yet.

When we woke up we'd lost all track of time although the sun was still high in the sky. I lay there looking at the light shining on our bodies through the grass of the broken roof and I felt happier than I'd ever felt. I kissed my love's sleepy dick. It immediately sprang to life and pursued me. I jumped up and grabbed one of the wooden rafters. I hung there for a moment like Tarzan swinging on a branch. Then Cheetah jumped on my back and grabbed the same rafter so our hands were side my side as we hung and swung. Soon I felt something warm and hard growing behind me and then it was inside me and we were both swinging on that fucking rafter, or rather fucking on that swinging rafter. He grabbed me with his strong sturdy legs and shoved his golden dick further and further into my accommodating ass as we swung. It was awesome. I know that's an overworked word and I know it's probably been replaced by another one by now. But that's the only word for it. Awesome. I can't think of a better one. Mind blowing, fucking awesome.

Extra! Latest edition! Read all about it! Twenty-eight year old lawyer from Boston swinging on a branch in Greece with an eighteen-year old fisher boy fucking him like crazy. And he's loving it.

Then we ran into the sea and I realized my wish and fucked him in the surf. It wasn't exactly underwater but it sure as hell was great. It beat any Hollywood movie, I can tell you. Eat your heart out Burt Lancaster. "From Here to Eternity" was never quite like this. Sorry but you have to be a movie buff to understand some of my references.

I fucked him and then I sucked him and then I fucked him and I sucked him again and the waves washed over us and still we came up for more. Then we went fishing one more time and this time round actually caught some great fish. Yannis built a little wood fire on the beach and cooked them and fed them to me with his fingers. And then I sucked his fingers clean and fed him some fish with my fingers too. And then he sucked my fingers clean. And so on and so forth.

I remembered my unkind thoughts about his clothes that morning. Somehow the smell of fish didn't bother me any more. In fact I couldn't get enough of it. And I still can't. That's because the faintest whiff of fresh fish brings Yannis hurtling back to me. I miss him like hell.

After our fish dish we fucked and we sucked some more and fell asleep on the beach. When we awoke it was too dark to take the boat back so we made up a makeshift bed in the hut. I nestled down happily next to Yannis and ran my hand down his firm front. Destination dick. He didn't respond. I saw that he was looking worried. For a moment I'd forgotten he was only eighteen and would probably be for the high jump stopping out all night. Fortunately, I had my mobile phone with me and was able to call my German friend.

I explained that we'd drunk too much ouzo and fallen asleep on the beach. It may not have been the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but at least it was the truth. He said he would be happy to explain to the old lady and asked if I'd managed to do some good scuba diving. I looked at Yannis lovingly. I could feel his dick hardening in my hand. He was eager for me to go down on him again. I had to admit that indeed I had. And how!