0 comments/ 14065 views/ 0 favorites Calypso By: SubtleDestroyer I breathed deeply as she walked away, inhaling the musty air from the Calypso's oxygen scrubbers. It was a beautiful ship, the first of many luxury submarines to follow. It was set up only for shallow dives, much of the hull being made of reinforced glass. It was equipped with a full gym, as well as a basketball court and showers. There were ninety-one employees aboard the Calypso at all times, along with the roughly 400 tourists who came along for "an experience like none before" as the pamphlet put it. I could certainly believe it. The three days I had spent on this ship had been the best I could remember, with the painfully noticeable exception of The Girl. Her name was The Girl because I had yet to introduce myself to her, even though I felt there was no need to, that we had already met. God she was so beautiful, if only I could remember what she looked like... There were no other people to disturb the delicious silence of the submarine today though. There was a party on the island we had docked at the day before, and anyone who thought they were anyone was there. I made no such pretenses. I had the whole day to myself, and was looking forward to working up a good sweat in the gym before a long day of reading. Fortunately, that was doomed to never happen. I was ensured personally by the captain that I would have the whole day to myself, so that's why it came as such a surprise when I saw Her standing outside my door. "So sorry to bother you, I know you wanted to be alone, but—I have a problem," she said, her hands rubbing nervously at the edge of her khaki shorts. I favored her with a small smirk. I wasn't going to make this easy for her, no matter how much I wanted her. "Not a problem. How can I help?" "Well," she started, her eyes focusing anywhere but on mine, "I need to use your shower. I heard you'd be on board, and I don't want to go to the showers in the gym alone." An unusual request to be sure, but one I could understand. The showers were down a deck, and it could be creepy when it was quiet. "Sure, come on in," I said, passing my card through the slot and opening the door. "I just hope you don't mind a little music. I can't read in silence." That was an absolute lie, but I was in the mood for a little of the old love master Barry White. I heard a voice from the bathroom. "Umm...your shower is broken. I guess we'll have to go down to the gym, if you would please, please go with me?" There was no way I could turn her down, not when she was begging like that. "Sure let's go," was my immediate reply. So much for Mr. White. To my complete shock, she came out in just a towel. "I hope you don't mind," she said apologetically, "but I didn't feel like getting all dressed again for a 2 minute walk." "Ok..." I mumbled, still too much stunned to react, "follow me." We walked down the hall until we reached the end. At the end was a small staircase. Time to play hero. "There's no way you can climb down there in that," I said, "I'll climb down first and help you from there." She gave me a look that I couldn't quite read, something between laughing and suspicion. "OK...but no peeking!" "Of course not." I got down quickly, and reached up to help support her, keeping my gaze carefully downward. I felt the heat radiating off her lower leg, and moved my hand out to grab hold of her slender waist. Unfortunately (fortunately?), just then, she lost hold of a rung and dropped several inches. I grabbed hold of her, and took a firm hold just above her knee. Not firm enough though, and my grip started to slip. My right hand rode quickly up her leg, her smooth skin sliding smoothly under my fingertips. The heat that I felt from her earlier was magnified a thousand times as I got closer to the molten core of this hot-blooded creature. My other hand managed to grab hold around her waist, and I dropped her gently to the ground. I was about to stand back up, but she stopped me just before I could remove my hands. "Wait," she said, "move your hands. Let me rewrap this towel." I did so dutifully, thinking about what had just happened. Those extra two seconds of contact with her perfect body had woken up my body. I stood a modest 6 inches when I was aroused, and I was well on my way there right now. I bent over, pretending to tie my shoe, so she wouldn't notice the sudden bulge in my thin beach shorts. She gave me that same look again, suspicion and amusement. Then she headed off in the direction of the showers. It was then that I noticed I wasn't wearing any shoes. By the time I looked up, she had already disappeared around a corner. I ran off to find her. I took a wrong turn and ended up in the basketball court, so I turned around and went the other way. I got most of the way to the showers when I heard the sound of water running. "Are you ok now? Do you need me to wait to take you back up?" "Actually," she said, "could you come here for just a second?" I walked in slowly, reassuring myself she probably was just having trouble getting the temperature right. When I got to the shower she was in, she threw back the curtain. "Could you do my back?" I don't know whether or not those words ever registered. All I saw was her perfect body, whole and revealed. The water coursed like so many rivers around and over her breasts, the rivulets breaking up as they washed over her well-tanned abs. Her pussy was glistening, tiny drops of water clinging to her cropped and trimmed pubic hairs. I was brought back with a start, though, when she stuck a bar of soap in my face. "Hmm? You there? Take off those clothes and help me with my back. I'll do yours, so it's a fair trade!" She tugged at my shirt as she said this, enforcing her words. I ripped off my shirt as fast as I could, and unbuttoned my pants with the same haste. However, as I reached for the zipper, I hesitated. I had never been naked in front of a woman before...of course, before today I had never seen a naked woman. What the hell... I took down my shorts and dropped them to the floor. I threw all my former cautions to the wind and dropped my boxers as well. She flashed that same look again, except this time, it wasn't at my face. "Oh poor baby," she said, "That just won't do at all. Not at all!" With this, she grabbed my now painfully throbbing cock and pulled me into the shower. Immediately, she dropped to her knees and put my head into her mouth. She started sucking and jacking me at the same time. It felt better than anything I had ever done to myself, and I had done many things. It was going to get better, though. As she continued the treatment, I felt an enormous orgasm begin to build up. I reached out to steady myself against the wall. She must've felt me tense up, because she let go of my cock and stood up. "We'll save that for a little bit," she said, laying down and pulling me on top of her as she did so. I ended up facing her waist, and I knew exactly what to do. I reached up and caressed one soft, supple nipple, massaging it, feeling its hardness. As I did this, I began to kiss her stomach. I moved slowly down until I was just above her beautiful rose pink pussy. I moved my tongue around the edge, never entering, just a little bit out. I heard her moans above me, and redoubled my efforts. Soon, she began shifting, trying to get my agile tongue to enter her. I knew it was now or never. I reached down with my free hand and spread her soaking lips apart. I flicked my tongue out, faster and faster, over and over again on her clitoris. Her moans were louder now, and she was moving up and down spastically. I wrapped my tongue around her little clitty and bobbed back and forth. I was rewarded for my efforts. Soon, her moans became screams, and she threshed violently under my grip. I kept at it and nearly 3 minutes later I stood back up. I reached down and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her up. "You said you needed help," I grunted, "doing your back." With that, I flipped her around, and ran my hand up her back, pressing on her shoulders, forcing her to bend over. My cock had not given up the battle during its break, and it was still at full attention. I entered her from behind, her pussy dripping and tight. I pumped in and out, in and out, reaching around with a hand to massage the other nipple now. I continued to pump, and her moans returned much less reluctant this time. I felt a rising orgasm, but I exercised all my control to hold it back. I wanted this to be perfect. Her moans grew louder and louder, and I was losing control. I made one more massive thrust, and my hot, white seed flowed freely into her. It was enough to drive her over the edge. She collapsed to her knees, weak from such a violent prolonged orgasm. It would be a couple minutes before either she or I could move anywhere. That was good. Maybe that would give me time to learn her name. Calypso I awoke to a night's sky. There was wind, but it was warm, comforting. I tried to rise; pain, excruciating pain, in my stomach. A gunshot wound; I received it late, in a battle to liberate a capital from a dictator. I can remember it all; the look Jess gave me, as I left. She wasn't angry, or even resigned. She was hopeful, furiously, magnificently hopeful, optimistic; she had held me, as tightly as she could, the night before I left, and told me I would come back to her, I would. I groaned, and felt a hand upon my body, pushing me down gently. "Hush now. Your wounds are grave, and rest is what you need." Her face came into view; my vision dimmed, as tiredness took me. She smiled at me. ******** She was humming, in the corner. It was still night, or I had slept for the day; the room smelt like lavender. I wouldn't have known that, but my mother had always hung lavender in the kitchen, when I grew up. She turned, and looked at me. "You have slept for a long time. You are almost healed. Then, you can be on your way." I sat up, and felt down; I was fine, if a little stiff. I stiffened, noticing I was naked. She watched me, from the corner of her eyes. I reddened. She laughed, turning; she looked soft to me. She was thin, almost waifish; her ears stuck out, from under her hair. Her smile was amazing; it rose somewhat shyly, and she kept looking away from me when she saw my gaze. She tucked her hair behind an ear; I started to see it was pointed, a little. She saw, and grimaced a little. "On my way? Where am I? I remember..." She nodded. "You were hurt, Ryan, on a battlefield. You were brought here, to be made better; to..." She trailed off, and looked away. I did not ask her how she knew my name. I crawled over to her, and took her hand; I couldn't help it, she looked so utterly sad in that moment. She looked at me gratefully, before going red and taking her hand from me. She stood, in a simple, straight movement. "I will get us food." She left, and I lay down, and inspected the room. The roof was beams, but not thick wood; more, that which you could collect from the water's edge. The walls were reeds, collected and woven so tightly as to keep the weather out. Laid about were small items of habitation, in a primitive sense; there were the furs on the ground, in which I lay; a small set of drawers held clothing; I dimly remembered being awake, as she changed. The way her body looked, unclothed, naked; I shook myself. She came back inside, and looked at me. I sat, and folded my arms. "I need some more information." She nodded, smiling a little. "I told you. You were wounded, and-" "Yes, but how did I come to be here? I was in southern Africa, but..." She nodded again. "I do not know how you found my shores, but I do know the general story. They do not ever send me the bad ones. No, far from it, Ryan." She sighed. "Do not ask me my name. If I tell you, I reveal my hand, my secrets, and you will have to make a choice. Instead, let us both simply say that I will keep you here until you are well." I shook my head. "Not good enough." She raised her chin, fire in her eyes. "It will have to be, as it is all I will give." She turned, and began messing with the fire that twirled and spluttered, before building and boiling the water in the pot. She dropped some pieces of meat into the water, and continued cooking. I looked around further, for details, but there was nothing, really; the room was primitive, without anything electrical. She had a small fire, with somewhat of a chimney in the middle, made of clay. The drawers were made of ornate wood, unpolished, carved with fantastical designs. "Are you comfortable?" She asked me. I'm sure she was watching, even as I looked around the space. "Yes," I said. An uncomfortable silence. "Look, why can't I know any details? I just..." She came over to me, and took my hand. Her lips opened, and her tongue ran lightly across her upper lip; I started a little. "I am sorry. If you would me tell you my story, I will, but that means you will have to choose. I would you were better first, but..." She shrugged, before looking up, straight into my eyes, for the first time. I was a deer, caught in the headlights. I had never, will never, see a beauty like hers, never again. She was a full moon on a beautiful summer night, cruising over Caribbean seas. She was a Mediterranean beauty, with the dignity of an queen. She was ethereal, supernatural, and I was nothing. Caught. I wanted, as I had never. I wished to press myself against those lips, to bury myself in her. To look at her was to bring myself pain, for I so longed to touch her. Some of what I felt must have shown in my eyes, for she smiled a little in reaction. "I..." It took me a moment to collect my thoughts. I set my jaw. Jessica. Think about Jess. "Tell me." She nodded, unsurprised. "My name is Calypso, and I was placed here, on this isle, by the Gods. I do not know if they still exist, or if they were killed; I was absented from time, when I was imprisoned here. I remember the sounds of battle, and it has been a very long time since I was last visited by Hermes." She looked away. "My sin was that I sided against the gods. Thus, here, they trapped me; I can play no role in time. I am only ever a way station for those like you. Men, who cannot stay. Men, who I cannot help but fall in love with." "F-Fall in love... You've fallen in love with me.?" She nodded, still not looking at me. "You cannot remember most of your time here. You were hurt, by wounds not familiar to me; thus, I sang to you, using what little I have to heal you. But my voice causes you to forget; you do not remember." Her voice broke. She looked up, her gaze devouring my face. "I understand. You will leave, as all before you have. You told me, about Jess, about your unborn babe. It's fine." I watched as the tear trailed down her cheek; it shone, diamond in the dim light. I touched her face, tracing the path the tear took; she held my hand against her, her eyes dim. I shook my head. "It's not fair. Not fair at all." She nodded, and let my hand go. "I know. Remember, this is, as prisons go, a nice one. And they left me with a prophesy; that if a man were to return, this place would shatter, and I could follow him back to the world. You are fit, but not yet able to leave; spend some time here, exploring my island." There was a note of pleading in her voice; explore here, with me. I smiled at her, feeling a traitor as I did. "I'll stay, Calypso. For a while." ******** The island was not large, not at all; the beaches were all beautiful, the forests immaculate. I could walk barefoot around; I need not wear the clothes she had for me, it was warm. And it was odd when I thought about it; the air was rich, smelling equally of salt and the lavender that filled her house, even though Calypso grew no flowers on her island. The light was always silver, that of the moon; I asked her, about it. "It simply is. I form part of another's prison, and when that other is freed this place will be utterly destroyed." She shrugged. "That is my only real solace; that when that happens, I will be released out, into the world." I nodded. "Who is imprisoned here?" "I cannot tell you that unless you make your decision to stay." She had never put it so baldly to me; that the choice was so simple, so utterly final. She looked at me then, a shy glance. She still only rarely looked me in the eye. ******** It was difficult to tell between day and night; the only celestial body was the moon, and it stayed stagnant, hung in the sky. So when I say that night, I mean the periods in which we slept. We moved back, to the hut- for hut it was- silence hanging between us like shadows. I wanted to say something, but her expression kept me silent; she yearned, needed. Her eyes pleaded to me, in a way I had only rarely seen; she began to reach out, only to retract her arm. Inside the cabin, I began to undress. She normally pulled closed a curtain, from her half of the tent, to afford us both privacy; this time, she watched me, her eyes hungry, greedy. Glimmering, selfish eyes; I felt hot, hotter than I could ever recall; I hardened before her. She stood, and lifted her gown over her head; she was stained black and white by the light, her curves shadowed. I grit my teeth; Jessica, damn it! She sat down, on the floor, and crossed her legs, idly toying with her left breast. She played with the nipple first; it needed little encouragement to harden, condensing into a hard peak. It was amazing to me, how lush she was, how wanton! She was so thin, yet her figure so full. Her lips opened into a fevered sigh, and her thighs parted to reveal her centre, her desire. She was lightly furred, the curls unharsh on her body. She looked up at me then, directly, and as before I was assaulted with all the want I have ever felt in my life. Her fingers trailed her shape, moving between her breasts, swaying from her desire. I watched them as though in slow motion as she pressed them ever lower, teasing me as much as herself. She reached her thighs, and ran her nails against the skin along the inside of them; first her right leg, then just above the down. She toyed with the soft curls; I struggled. She let out a heavy, promise filled breath, and let her fingers dip lower. She parted her lips first, spreading them as wide as she could, baring her to my eyes. She glistened white in the moonlight; moist. She stared directly at me, deliberately, as she slipped her hands between the folds of her, the lips swollen. I could see more, everything; it was as though the dimness showed me things I could not see in the sun, pleasures I was unaware of. I hadn't been a big porn guy, when I was young, and while I liked pretty women I saw nothing in just watching; Calypso changed me, made me want to watch her. Made me want her to like me watching. And I did; my god, I did. She was nothing like Jess, nothing; Jess was tanned, and her hair was blonde; I always used to tease her, for dying it the way she did. She was the best looking girl I had ever dated; she punched me whenever I said that round her. She was the only girl I had ever dated. I shook myself; Jess. Remember her; her smell, the way she looked when she smiled. But it was hard; her smell was gone from my head, driven by the musk of sex here, now. I couldn't look away from her, Calypso, from her pussy, but I had to. I glanced up at her face, and regretted it; she was so, so beautiful. Her eyes captured me, as they had whenever she smiled, pools so deep and utterly unquantifiable, so dark I could feel my consciousness sinking. She sighed; I felt myself start from the sound. She let out the harshest of breaths, a ragged, burning sound. I watched, as she prepared herself; she ran her forefinger and her middle either side of her lips, caressing herself through them; her other hand she used between them. She was so wet now, glistening; a rose covered in dew just before dawn steals its moisture. And she smelt so good. She slowed herself down, withdrawing one hand, then the other. Her eyes slanted; she mewed a little, before giving a little shudder. She moved forwards, onto her knees; she was slow, the shadows falling across her form almost too conveniently, hiding her from my eyes. I could see her breasts, as she crawled towards me; they swayed, twin globes of unequivocal desire. Her nipples were clearly visible, hard as they were, twin blackness on a white canvas. She was before me, all at once slower and faster than I could imagine; I could not move, frozen in the moment. She rose up, between my legs, her hair tickling the inside of my thighs, before I saw her face, close; her breasts pressed against me, burning hot. I felt her touch after her fingers left me, imprints in swirling flames under my skin. I was so hard, indescribably hard; she looked into my eyes, as she rose to her feet, and straddled me. He body touched mine; I groaned, as she rested, her ass against the top of my thighs. She had done it deliberately; I was between her legs, but not inside her. She was so warm, so soft, so wet; her pussy slid along my cock, coating me. She took my hands, and placed them one her; one hand on her waist, the other on her shoulder. She looked at all of me, her gaze trailing over my body; her fingers traced the curve of my muscles, softly. Then, she began to move. It was slow, deliberate; she wanted the contact as much as I did, more. Her hands moved to the back of my neck, and she writhed her hips against me, bringing my head down, to linger between her breasts. She groaned; it travelled through her body, vibrating against my cock, along her slickness. She bit my ear; she scrapped the back of my neck with her nails. "Help me, Ryan. Stay... with...Oh!" My hands moved of their own accord; she lost all control, all semblance of seduction; her neck arched back, and I saw the surprise in her eyes, the shock. She brought her hands around to my face, and leant into my eyes. "No-one..." She gasped at me, her eyes tearing, glistening; her voice whispered, containing so much emotion my head span. "No-one ever lasted this long. All the others who visited me, left long ago. I have never..." She looked down, and away. I placed my finger, under her chin, and brought her mouth back. She looked at me hopefully, yet despairingly. "Stop, just stop!" She said, pushing my hands away; she didn't move to get off me, as she should. He movement caused the two of us to shift, rubbing against each other in ways that me me stiffen. She looked at me, and began to cry. "This isn't fair. It's not. I... I love you, and you love her." Her. She said the word with such inflection; not hate, nor truly envy, but wistfulness. And despair. She leant into me; I held her as she cried. I realised something, as I held her. I could not, in all conscience, lie with her. She wanted it, desperately; I wanted it badly. But to lie with her would be to make a promise I couldn't keep, and to break a word I cherished above all else. She stopped crying, rested against me; I was still hard, and she still felt so good against me. I brought her jaw to my hands. I stared into her eyes. I kissed her. It was everything I had hoped it would be, and more. Fireworks, sadness, hope, forever; a complete eternity unto itself. She bent against me; the kiss itself was not sexual, it was deeper. She broke the contact; I looked at her, and smiled; he eyes were tremulous. "You know, that was my first kiss?" I shook my head, as she stood. She rustled around for my clothing; I helped her. She nodded to me, as I put on my uniform; even smiled, a little sadly. "I hope you find every happiness there, with her." She looked down, as I stepped onto the boat that had appeared at the dock." I turned, and looked back at her then; I was far, too far to truly hear, but I did all the same; her whisper, far too low for any but those next to her. "But please, find your way back to me. Beloved." ******** The captain was if nothing else, surprised to see me; the war was over, long over. I was entitled to a significant amount of backpay; my life was there, available. My commanding officer looked at me oddly, as he gave me leave. He knew the reason I gave for not returning sooner was bull, but he had not reason enough to think so. I asked him what he had heard of Jess; he said she gave birth to a boy she called Ryan. Our house was the same, exactly; it matched up to the white picket cliché perfectly. The sun was entirely too high, and there was no clouds, nothing. I should have been happy, yet why was my heart pounding? I wanted to see her, to remember what she looked like; to meet our son. I knocked on the door, and she opened the wire screen automatically. She looked up at me; she froze. Her voice was like hot coffee; her eyes were the same blue, her hair the same poorly dyed blonde. She whispered my name, luminously staring, unable to look me fully, or all at once. I pulled her to me; she felt the same, smelt so good, baking and baby food. I had been gone too long; Ryan was six months old. Her hands slowly wrapped around me; she sobbed into my shirt, uncontrollably. "Ryan, Ryan!" She whispered, over and over, clinging to me harder than her strength dictated she could. She let me go; she took my hand, and showed me into the kitchen. He was, still, so small. Hair lightly covered his crown, not small tufts but the softest of fur. His skin was pale; like her, he had northern complexion. And when she picked him up, and gave him to me, he was so small, so soft. He melted into me; I felt something hot burning outwards. It wasn't joy, or happiness, but it was strong enough to tear me asunder. It took until later for her to ask me where I was, where I went. I told her the same thing I told the captain. She looked at me oddly, and sniffed the air. "Hmmm..." She said. "It's the wrong season for lavender." ******** Ryan was four, by the time I worked out what was wrong between me and Jess. It wasn't there, anymore. I don't know where it went, or if it went just from me, but it was gone. She began, almost a year and a half after I returned, to complain about my job, so I took another, closer; I became a mall cop, and worked security in a bar, as I got myself made a cop. There was a guy who came to visit my house sometimes; Jess said he was a friend, and when I asked she told me he was there when she thought I was gone. I nodded, and tried to content myself with that. He was not like me, Darren; not tall, not short. He was older; he wore glasses, horn rimmed. I wish I felt even a little angry with him, but he not only backed right off, when he saw I was back but went out of his way to be good to me. He adored her; I could see it, inside him. But he was a good man, and he couldn't bring himself to come between us. I remember asking Jess, in the middle of an argument, if she had slept with him; she responded by asking me if I had fucked around while I was gone. It was fair enough, but I knew her well; she had a tell. She would never have made a poker player; she always lied by answering a question with another question. It came to a head with another argument. I had felt things, seen things, since I returned from Ogygia; I could see the maenads, dancing in the woods with the fauns who played their pipes to a tune on the wind. The leaves of autumn danced for them; I could hear the sounds of voices, singing, in the ripples in a lake, or the falling of rain. I was distracted every moment of every day; Jess hated it, about me. To say I was indifferent about nature before would not be untrue, but this change was strange to her. She told me bitterly, that fight, that she didn't wish I were someone else, or someone different; she just wished I was the man I was before I left. Then she turned away from me, and cried herself to sleep. She took the next day off work. She came to me, and she looked at me, directly. "Ryan, this isn't working." I nodded; the leaves outside caught my attention, as the creatures only I could see danced among them. "I don't want to live here anymore." I looked at her fully; she reddened, under my eyes. One of the luxuries of never getting married was never having to get divorced. "Why?" "I... We aren't the people we were, before, Ryan. I... don't love you. Not anymore." I rose, and got a bottle of the cheap bourbon; I took down two glasses, and wordlessly poured us both one. She took the glass, and downed the thing in a single gulp. We looked at each other, and burst out laughing; the most genuine laughter we had shared for the longest time. She put her glass out again; I filled it up. Calypso "Thing is, you never really came back, Ryan. I know what you told me happened, but I don't believe it. Tell me, Ryan; tell me what happened to you." I hadn't taken my eyes off her until this instant. I lifted the bottle, and drank as much as I could. "You won't believe me. I don't believe it, any of it, Jess." She placed her hand on my arm; she smiled. So I told her; I had looked into the myths about the island, and the heroes who visited Calypso. She nodded her way through it; then I told her I could see them, the others who live away from our eyes; hers narrowed. She asked me if I could see them now; I pointed outside, wordlessly, and she turned and looked. "I can't see anything, Ryan." She got up, and left. ******** She still let me see my son, which was good; she moved in with Darren. I dealt poorly with the thing; he came, Darren, and had a drink with me once a week. Made sure I was still with the living. But I had no real interest with life; to me, life was what happened between the leaves, in the joy of watching the Hunt as it charged through the woods, near my home. But I wanted to see her again. All the gods were gone; there was no Poseidon, nor Zeus, nor Hades. No; all the greater gods, and not a few of the minor ones had faded. By Dionysis still kicked about, my woods full of his fauns; and creatures still died. I could not reach the Wine god; I tried, debauching myself on spirits as much as I could. Thus, I resolved to reach the one I knew of, in the place where I knew he'd be. The Necropolis in Greece is haunting at best; but when I went there, the dark was closing in. The stone was bleached white by the darkness, and I could hear unsavoury things clicking, moving around me; brushing up against me, sighing. He was here; I knew it. He sat upon a table, small enough on him to be a chair. He was pale, haunting; the Phantom of the Opera, before removing his mask. Beautiful, but o so very remote. Thanatos. The god of Death. He knew I could see him. He was occupied in a book; what was in the thing was beyond me. The cover shifted constantly, one second pale green, then the deepest crimson, before deepest magenta; pictures appeared, moving with the readers desire. He regarded me. "Do you desire death, human? Death before life, and after. Death is not an end, or a beginning; it is constant. And the underworld exists no more; for the dead lie darkness, blankness. Not Tartarus, to be certain; just absence. Do you desire death?" I shook myself, and shook my head. "You are the last god I could reach. Thus, I ask you, Thanatos; will you send me to Calypso's isle again?" He placed his book down, and looked at me, interested; his head cocked to one side, as he considered me. "Why would I aid you, human? I have no love for you, or yours. You have ever railed against me; your medicine has become so powerful that I cannot drag most to where they belong. " "Because I love her. Because I want her to help me make sense of the madness that surrounds me since I left her island. I see things, things that shouldn't be. Greek things that I didn't see before. And, I..." "You want to bring her back, hmm?" I nodded; he looked at me, before turning himself into an owl; he was facing away from me, but turned his head all the way around without his body. He was still taller than me, by several foot. "Death does not interfere." "Death is patient; it will confront all men," I said, and held my hands out wide. "You will get my soul, as with all, eventually. You will not get Calypso's, unless she crosses over; imagine, bringing your duty to one of the undying." He mused; something brushed the back of my neck. He straightened. "Your task is beyond perilous. There is a reason none returned to Calypso. One must pass through the home of the Sirens; it is through there, that Ogygia lies." He loomed over me then; his beak clicked. He was huge; growing bigger, his neck longer, more flexible. He opened his beak, and swallowed me whole. ******** I awoke in a boat, surrounded in mist. His voice wafted over to me; he told me that I must listen to them, the sirens. I could not plug my ears lest they shred me. I nodded, and took up my oars. The mist only ever grew thicker around me; it swelled, and caressed my skin. The moon was huge, bigger than anything I had ever seen. It did illuminate the fog; made it harder to see. Then, I heard. Voices, wafting in across the fog. As seductive as barely concealed nakedness. I wanted the singer so badly, I could die. I rowed faster, ignoring the caution I heard, resonating through my mind. I wanted to join in. It was not a woman the song sounded of; it spoke to me. It sang of a home; not mine, not Jess', not Calypso's, ours. They liked each other, cooked together; they looked at me, both at the same time, with love. Ryan grew up loving both of them; Darren was an uncle. I was lost, swimming in images of what I wanted most that I almost missed my first images of them. They were hideous; the Sirens feed from the flesh of those they capture, and it turned them. Their hair was matted, fixed with algae and wet mold; their skin was pallid, and covered in warts. Their bodies resembled dugongs; blubbery, swaying, rippling flesh, straining to get him, wanting hungrily to taste the man's flesh. I watched, from my little heaven, with Calypso and Jess to either side. The show on the TV was realistic, Jess said. Totally lifelike. And doesn't that man look just like you, before everything you ever wanted came true. I shook myself; hang on. The water splashed at the man's face, and I awoke. I was so close to the rocks; barely able to avoid them. The wind had picked up, blowing spray and ice into my face; I welcomed the cold, the wind; it kept the siren's voices at my back, too far away. I felt it rather than saw it; the vortex, swirling. It caught the little boat, and I span with it, going ever faster, on and on; every turn another try at happiness. I felt myself get drawn in, and spliced, as I entered the middle; I shut my eyes, and screamed. ******** Bliss; complete, utter, silent. I was unaware, really, of anything, at first. It all hit me at once. Lavender, salt; dim, comfortable moonlight. My eyes weren't open, but I could feel it dancing across my skin, welcoming me here again. The waves crashed against me, over and over; my boat was gone, but the water was not threatening. It was the perfect temperature, and I found myself without fear of drowning, or falling. The sand was soft, when I found it under me; it settled me on my feet, ever so gently, as though welcoming me home. I remembered it all. It was so familiar, and so strange; it was the first time I had been truly alone for the longest time. Nothing whispered on the wind here, no creatures arcane or forgotten toyed around, skipping around in places no-one could see. There was nothing here, except the plants and the breeze and the waves. And her. She was standing outside her hut, blinking her eyes as though she felt the force of the sun after years underground. She had not changed. She wasn't smiling, was completely frozen. Her hair blew in the wind; her skin was still so pale. I smiled, everything I was spinning around, welling out of me. "As you asked me, Beloved." ******** "Odysseus." I said, as I walked towards her. She flinched at his name; her arms wrapped around her body. I knew her. I knew what she had said to me- she had never kissed a man before me. So that left one thing the bastard could have done, to father children on her; children who were free of her curse. She looked at me, stricken. "R-Ryan, I... Odysseus took me. I cannot say I was exactly unwilling, but he..." I moved to her, and gently I brought her to me; she broke down against me, still rigid. "I'm sorry, Calypso. Sorry for having left you; sorry to remind you of him." "But..." She began, pushing me back. "I let you go. None other has ever returned, none." I nodded. "I know, beloved." She wept then, holding me as firmly as she could against her; she looked away, into the surf, shaking as I held her. She looked up, smiling finally; the smallest of things. She was black and white, stained so by the moon; I felt the warmth of her pressing against me, and I felt the desire I had for her burning, dashing me to cinders. Her hand found the base of my head, and ran her fingers through my hair, toying out the knots idly. She looked almost impudent, playful, as she looked up at me. She drew my head down, and kissed me. ******** Her hut was much the same, that much I dimly thought as we pressed against each other, stumbling inside. We were too wrought, too in need, to be slow or anything other than furious. She bit me; I moaned, unable to hold the sound inside, as her fingers felt for the clasp of my pants. I took a handful of her hair, and drew her mouth back up to mine. She pushed me down, and tried to mount me; I held her hips forwards, and shimmied myself lower. She looked down at me, confused and frustrated. She looked mad. I breathed in her scent; she was not quite what I had expected. She shivered, and the frustration disappeared. I placed the forefingers of both hands either side of her centre, tracing the edges with the tips. She moaned; I smiled, forcing myself slower, my breath coming fiercely between my teeth. I wet my lips, and looked up, to make sure she was watching. I dove in. I started low, lower than her pussy. My tongue pressed against her, slickly seeking her depths; when I found them, she brought her hands to my head, and forced me to tongue her harder. I brought my hands to her wrists, and took them away from the back of my head. I then raised a finger, in the manner of a school teacher; uh-uh. She half laughed, half snarled at me, but she let me set my own tempo. I moved higher, and toyed around the edges to her clitoris; instead of the normal alphabet technique, I used more than just the tip. I placed the flatness of the middle of my tongue over her, and used the edges to run around her clit. The only contact she got was when she bucked herself against me; she was so surprised, the first time, and she started to do it deliberately, before her intention faded away and ber desire took over. She thrust at me sporadically; her mouth was moaning constantly, sometimes words, sometimes nothing. Her orgasm began. I felt her shudder, her thighs clenching closed around me. Her hands took my head, and she pressed me into her, hard. I had time for the most shallow of breaths before she closed around me; I changed tack, moving away from teasing to actively seeking to drive her higher. And higher she went. She burnt on and on, pressing me against her harder and harder. She would readjust, unconsciously, if her hold became too loose, and I lost myself in her desire. When she sank, weakly, to lean back on my chest, I was drenched. She was making little mewling noises with her mouth, her hips still spasmodically thrusting. "R-Ryan..." Her voice was a broken, weak whisper, and I sat up, adjusting how I held her. She pressed against me, before looking up with those massive eyes shining at me. "I... I didn't know you could do that," she said, her voice a little stronger. She was sitting on my lap, my legs splayed out, across the furs; her legs were straddling me, as she leaned against my chest. I was breathing hard, drunk on her; my head was spinning, spinning. She took my face between her hands, and held me, locking my face to hers. "I've... dreamt about this, Ryan. Since you left, every time I've closed my eyes, I saw your face." She swept her hair out from in front of her eyes, as she pressed her head to my chest. "I saw you, your world. I thought you were happy, there; I saw you meet your son." She took a deep breath. "Did I take you away from them?" I held her tighter, and pulled her to me. "No." She looked up at me. "What happened?" I told her how Jess and I split; she was silent throughout, and her usually expressive face showed me nothing. Then, she sighed, looked up, and smiled. "You know, I probably should have done that before I... well, you know." She said, a little mirth in her voice; she used it to hide her guilt. "Before we made love, you mean?" "Ryan, I let you go," she began. "You need to go back to them; you-" I didn't let her get any further. I kissed her fiercely, and silenced her completely with my mouth. My erection had faded during our conversation; it pressed up, between her legs, as she pressed into me, moving upwards, in preparation. She seemed to know instinctively what to do, as my cock found her cleft, and she sunk down onto me, slowly. She was still wet, still aroused. She gasped at my length, entering her; her eyes opened wider, and I watched her awareness grow- this was it, we were finally here, doing this, together. She moved her head to my ear. "Ryan... please..." I thrust upwards, and gently bit her neck, my hands on her hips, guiding her down to meet my thrusts. She wrapped herself around me, her body clenching; her sheath tightened around me, over and over, pulsing. I felt her passion like a living thing, her sex like heat. She was heat to me; it was with total abandon that she clenched closed around me, and erupted into utter pleasure. I was so in need, that I hesitated at her orgasm. I held back; I wanted to last, to stay in her, to make her want me so to forget her guilt. She ground her orgasm against me, and I felt my wave recede. She was scarce finished when I moved upwards, into her, pushing my head deeper. She moaned loudly, the sound deep, intense. I felt her ripple over and around me, her pussy sucking me deeper, wanting me. It was as though her sex was a wet furnace, she burnt so brightly; I lost control, as I moved hard, into her. She slammed down, onto me, over and over; I met her in kind, growling. She looked at me intensely, fiercely, as she bit my ear. "You're mine, Ryan! Mine!" I felt myself tense at her words, as her moans grew, swelling; I swelled in her. I screamed, as I came within her. ******** "And I'm yours." She whispered, into my chest. She smiled as she said it; it was in her voice. "Beloved." I felt myself slipping, lower and lower, into sleep. She rose over me, looking alarmed. "No, Ryan, don't go, please don't go!" Grey clouds enveloped me, as I sank into unconsciousness. ******** The Necropolis was deserted, as I awoke to an early morning sun. It seemed brighter, for some reason; more powerful, more beautiful. I remembered all in an instant; I had been there, to Ogygia. I had seen her; I had claimed her. I even remembered slipping away. I looked around, looking for her; she was nowhere. I could still see Thanantos, sitting on his pedestal. "Where is she?" I demanded. He didn't even look up from his book; the cover took on a deep red. "Mortal, I do not treat with your kind often, or at all, so I will say this once. Speak to me with the respect my station above yours demands, else I place you in a dark deeper than the swirling pits Dante imagined." He looked up at me, and I saw them, in the back of his eyes; swirling, hungry, horrific emptiness. He returned to his book, which changed to a pale green. "I assume you are speaking of Calypso. She is not here; instead, her spirit is reborn into the mortal coil, as it would have if she had never been placed within the prison of Ogygia. As for where she is, I cannot say; she could be anywhere, anyone. Does that answer your question, mortal?" I shook my head, then I shook it again. I walked away. ******** I cannot tell you exactly how long I wandered Greece before I ended up leaving; it may have been a day, it may have been a month. All I could think about was her; her words, the last ones I heard from her, echoing over and over in my mind, driving me insane. When I got off the plane, Jess and Darren were waiting for me anxiously, with Ryan. He was still so small, but he had more hair and looked at me inquiringly. "How are you?" Jess said, her brow furrowing. "Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?" I shook my head, and put a smile on my face; it didn't convince Darren, but it did Jess, oddly enough. They drove me home; I played three little piggy's on Ryan's toes, and he giggled happily as I tickled his feet. There was precious little change about the street my house was in; the trees may be a little greener, since I left in late winter, but the houses were the same. The sun still shone- still, that strange, beautiful warm feeling, from it- and the grass was as green as I had ever seen it. There was a removalist's truck, opposite my house, and there were two or three men carrying a cream couch inside, before a woman came out and began to berate them. My heart stopped when I saw her; she was exactly the same. Her hair was shorter, and cut in a modern way to sit and wave just above her shoulders; she wore jeans and a university hoodie, but I knew her as I knew myself. Before the car stopped, I had opened the door, and I half walked, half ran over to her. She looked at me inquisitively, before smiling. "Hi," she said, brightly. "I'm your new neighbour. My name is Andy." I smiled at her, breathless. "Mine's Ryan. Would that be short for anything?" She looked a little annoyed as she responded. "Yeah, Andromeda. I dunno; my mother's Greek." She looked me up and down; it was everything I could do not to laugh out loud, or take her in my arms. "Sorry, have we met? You seem a bit familiar." I couldn't help it; I smiled wider. "Maybe. Could I offer my house, perhaps, as somewhere for you to eat until you get unpacked?" Her eyes lit up as she smiled at me, and I was as caught as I had ever been.