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The Dreams of Eros

I’m in the middle of an island, not sure when I left my ship, and some miracle has occurred, as it is summer now, so suddenly. This must be the same day that I departed from my town’s harbor with cargo. The inked notes I jotted onto my map are still smudgeable, and my face still smells of coconut oil, from when my mother kissed me goodbye. But it was winter when I prepared this voyage. Now I’m walking upon a soft grassy bank, into the forestry ahead, on an intensely hot day. And I can’t bring myself to turn around and look for my boat, to see if I shipwrecked or if this is just a dream. Some strange force seems to be moving my legs the way it wants me to move them, and I’m curious enough to let myself be pulled along on this course. In fact, I think I’ve heard of this island before, by some who claimed to have come here. They said this place is a land of erotic ecstasy. No one in my village ever believed them though.

I go forward, into the forest and down a slope, then into a wide cave, well lit with torches and with plenty of chalked drawings along the walls.

As I walk through, I’m having visions of the sky, in my mind’s eye, and peculiar thoughts of a presence, a spirit, as if it is forming in the clouds or from the pollen scattered in the air.

A cool breeze blowing through lets me know that I’m almost to the end of the cave. Around the bend, I see first an enormous waterfall. I’ve walked out to a small valley below a cliff, which bends over a long series of huts. There’s an entire village constructed under this waterfall, complete with balconies and docks that extend out to the brim of the gushing waters. All of them are interconnected in some way, making one large structure. And there are some huts set upon the piers on the other side of the waterfall too. I’m sweating in this heat, from walking quite a ways without water or food, and the curious force within me is driving me to them, whoever may be inside.

I go to the huts that are under the waterfall, refreshed by the mist drifting down. I hear light chatter in this lobby area. To my surprise, there’s a naked woman lounging in the corner, sitting next to a man wearing a thin pair of shorts. They aren’t startled by my appearance. Instead, the woman raises her head a little bit and urges me into the lobby, where there’s a small crowd down the way, standing on an outside deck. She knows I’m new here, that I’ve arrived in some accidental way and I don’t know what I’ve found. She tells me to come in—the visions are about to peak. A couple of them are wearing robes, and a man and woman are also naked. This is some sort of nudist resort, or a toga party that has evolved into a party of debauchery. I can hear the main festivities happening on a floor above me.

I ask the man and woman in the corner, “Can I go upstairs?”

“Of course. Hurry up!” She’s standing next to me now, patting my shoulder and trying to comfort my nerves.

I smell the scent of food drifting around, and I find the massive source for it upstairs. It’s the perfect party, complete with food and music, and of course this wonderful view of the waterfall rushing over the huts. A few people greet me. They tell me to get comfortable. “Why wear all those clothes on such a hot day?” Or they say, “Don’t eat food in those clothes. You can eat and wash off in the water soon enough.”

The vision of the spirit drifts through me again. It’s forming into a face, mostly human looking, with a wide smile, perfect shoulders and legs. He’s a giant. I see him drifting out of the sky and walking across the vastness of the Earth, where treetops brush across his knees. And another presence is forming in the sky.

“What’s going on?” I ask the people around me, in this hut. “I’m seeing something so strange.”

“Of course you do,” a beautiful woman says. “We see them when Eros is dreaming.”

I feel warmed and enlightened by the vision, and as I wade my way through the excitement of the party, I let the vision blossom and influence me as it wants to.

I’m never one to be a horny, desperate guy. But this place, this vision—something’s digging itself into my willpower and my sense of self. I want to find a woman who looks at me with a lustful eye. I want to grab her arms and press my body up against hers. There’s beautiful women at the card tables, and a couple playing checkers. There’s a woman carefully picking up the food plates that everyone has left on the counters and end tables. One dainty little woman is giving all her attention to the grandfather clock and other odd art pieces at the far end of the room. There’s some catlike women smoking in recliners over there too. They’re especially enjoying their nudity, rubbing their breasts and adoring each other.

But none of the women are as distinguishable as the one who’s carting a fresh casket of white wine to the food table. A few people applaud her service as she pours wine into the cups, and I go to ask her for a drink. Immediately she hands me a large glass of wine and we take an extended moment to drink, keeping our eyes locked. She’s wearing a robe that isn’t tied up. Her thick brown hair is wet. She urges me to stop being a prude and take my clothes off like everyone else.

I’ve nearly forgotten what I was doing before I stepped foot on this island. The intensity of the vision is taking over me, and from the look in everyone’s eyes it seems to be having an effect on everyone on this island. We can see the giant man being joined by his female partner descending out of the clouds, with the perfect feminine shape. Together, they walk across the valley, and all the living creatures clear the way.

The woman drinking wine with me grabs me by my shirt and leads me down the hall. She starts to explain: “When the giant spirits walk together, everyone on the island starts to feel the excitement.” She leads me up the stairs, toward the sound of the rushing waterfall, from just outside the open windows. Everyone’s quiet up here, where some couples are massaging each other in a large bedroom, and we sit down on a bed woven from bamboo straw. We feel the mist of the waterfall breezing in, and it cools her dark, oily skin. I’m loving the light scent of her musk, as she undresses me, and I put my hands inside her robe.

“When Eros dreams, our boundaries break down for a little while,” she says, in a giggling manner. “This place is out by the rapids. But there’s a whole city at the center of the island. There’s quite a few marts and restaurants, and people walking all throughout the streets. But when the vision of the giants arouses us… we can’t help ourselves any longer.” She’s rubbing her hand between my thighs now. She slips my pants off and takes a moment to admire my erection. “When we see the giants frolicking, it’s what we do. And when we see them start to make love… all around the island, it’s what we do.” She leans halfway on me, breathing slowly. “It doesn’t matter who we’re with. We just can’t control ourselves…”

We see the giants lying down in a field of unbloomed flowers, where the man puts one foot against a bundle of trees, and the other in a riverbank, and he takes a moment to adore the body of the woman lying below him. Then they begin to make love, gently at first.

As everyone in the room begins to do the same, this is no longer a vision so much as something that is a plain feeling, or an urge. Everyone here is completely overcome with the urge to express their desire, for someone, anyone. There’s no dividing line between straight or gay here, no difference between stranger or lover, married or single.

I’m naked with her and kneeling over her, as she settles into the bed. The couples massaging each other have become a pleasing sight, as one woman is jacking off her man, and the other couple are engaged in simultaneous oral pleasure, with the woman lying on top of the man. On the balcony, two young men who were talking are now embracing. From my spot on the bed, I can see some people in the distance below, in the shallow waters of the spring, paired off into groups of three or four.

I look at her, and for a moment I jack off, while rubbing her with the other hand. So much oil has spread from her skin, onto my sweaty skin, that my cock is already slippery. I rub my cock around her vulva, and almost unwillingly I slip it inside her, into the heat of her depth. We both shudder at the pure ecstasy of first contact. I grab all her hair in one hand, lean in closer to her, and away we go. I don’t begin slowly. We’re fucking loud and strong, as if we’ve already done this a hundred times. I lick at the saltiness on her neck and cheeks, and she does the same to me. She likes to bite me on the shoulder, and grab fiercely onto my sides. He legs are spread flat onto the bed, leaving her pussy wide open for me to smack my pelvis down on her, because she loves a good hard fuck, and a good thick cock that will fill her swelling pussy as forcefully as possible. I pull harder on her hair, and she moans. I hoist myself up a bit closer so that I can really drill her, with the fastest thrusts I can manage, and she starts screaming out.

Everywhere around the hut, we hear similar screams of pleasure, mostly from women, but some from men. We see the giants in the flower field fucking, almost shaking the Earth. As the man hammers away at his partner, leaving dents in the soft dirt around, the nearby river begins to surge with rushing waters, and the flowers all around are blooming quite rapidly and unleashing a heavenly scent. He pulls his cock out of her and begins shooting enormous loads of cum out onto her and the flowers around.

As I see this, I’m doing the same. We all are. I pull out my cock and a wave of jizz rushes out of me, onto her neck and breasts. Everywhere around the room the nectar smell of cum flushes through. The woman and I lock eyes, in a moment of relief and relaxation, then share in the tasting of my cum, until it’s all licked up. All the while, my erection hasn’t gone away. The visions are fading, as I’m seeing the two giants dissolving back into the air and clouds, but the libido given to me by the dream of Eros is still very intense. The girl with me seems to feel the same way.

She swiftly flips us around, so that I’m lying under her, then grazes slowly along my body, until she reaches my cock and starts to suck away at it passionately. Within a minute, my heart is racing again, and the tip of my dick is hot with both the after-orgasm pleasure and a new one building. Along with the lightness in my head and the sounds of laughter from downstairs, this is the perfect moment. She peeks up at me, slides both hands along my chest, and I wrap my fingers between each one of hers, then wrap my legs around the slight arch in her back and bear down—my signal that another orgasm is seconds away. She keeps at it, and soon her mouth is filled with my hot jizz. And this time she doesn’t save a drop of it for me.

She smiles. “Let’s go wash off,” she says.

She asks me to stay. Many people who stumble upon this island do. They live a simple, sex-filled life, where a dream from Eros washes through maybe once every twenty days. Surely this is a place to live if I want constant passion and hundreds of sexual partners.

But my boat is still tied up on the shore. I can leave, if I make up my mind soon. I can go back to delivering cargo, eating dinner every night with my wife and neighbors, teaching the children whatever wisdom I can.

We’re out at the edge of the island, where I’m staring at my boat in the sand, and she’s rubbing my back. She asks again what I’m going to do. I say that I don’t know yet. I need another moment or two to think.

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