He came in her ass in a series of hard pulses. He gripped her tits hard enough for the pain to first distract her, then arouse her, then, combined with everything happening as they fucked, causing her to cum yet again, this time with the sensations emanating from her highly-modified and sensitized breasts.

  She’d never had a nipple orgasm before. It was gripping, potent, addictive – and it was only going to get better as the nipples healed completely and came to know the rings that were now a part of them.

  Claire was satisfied and wanting more at the same time. He untied her and she relaxed with him for a little while, playing with his nipples and running her hands over his hard muscles. Then she moved over him, taking his cock in her mouth. Her tongue flicked along the shaft until it hardened again, and she let it slide deep into her mouth and enter her throat. Her head moved up and down along his penis as her lips and tongue worked their magic upon it. She drew the pleasure out for many minutes, before finally allowing him to cum in her mouth while she sucked and swallowed his cum, and uninterruptedly stimulated him as he came.

  She slept in his arms, her naked scalp resting on his shoulder. The feeling of her hairless head in the middle of the night aroused him instantly and he couldn’t resist taking her again. She awoke to Elliot within her and the pressure of his body above hers as they fervently made love.

  * * * * *

  Three days later, they saw the white buildings of the picturesque resort spreading up and across the island mountainside and descending to the cliffs above the dazzling blue sea. The breezy air was hot and thick with humidity. They stood on the deck in shorts as they approached the enchanting Greek island. Elliot wore a sleeveless white linen shirt completely unbuttoned in front. Claire wore a navy blue bikini top with her bright white shorts. In spite of the wind, they both glistened with sweat. After they docked, he took Claire’s hand and led her ashore. They each sported a backpack; their other luggage would be brought to the villa by a porter later in the day. He hailed a cab and they ascended the narrow, twisting road into the village and up into the hills above it. The female proprietor met them at their villa and showed them around before leaving.

  The house was tucked tightly among others, all white-washed to keep them as cool as possible in the oppressive island heat. Fortunately, theirs was air-conditioned. The white walls kept the ceramic-tiled patio in the front cool, and they settled in to watch the sea far below. Claire sat across his lap with her arm encircling his neck until they both became too hot in the bright sun. Protected by the high walls on either side, and recognizing the expressive freedom of the place, they both stripped completely and embraced. Their sweaty bodies slid smoothly against each other as they kissed. As frequently happened with them, their lovemaking became increasingly demanding, their tempo faster and faster. His mouth crushed against hers, pushing her lips against her teeth until she thought they might burst. His tongue probed her mouth with the force of an erection. Her head moved from side to side as their faces sought the perfect position for kissing. His hands gripped her buttocks, his nails digging into them.

  He turned her around and pushed her against the wall She braced herself with her hands, palms raised up and pressed against the rough surface. He entered her from behind while they stood there. She was very aware of her responsive inner pussy lips parting, the tugging of the six rings through them, and the force of him thrusting within her. She knew the pleasure of his groin against the cheeks of her firm, rounded bottom. She lifted her left foot onto a low ledge to make it easier and they fucked, slippery and wet, in the blazing sun of Santorini.

  * * * * *

  Elliot had managed to get her to eat squid for dinner and Claire was convinced that it was alive and wiggling inside her when she fell asleep. Her dreams were bizarre: gypsies in long dresses with low-cut, yellow blouses were surrounding her. The room where she was - no, more a garden than a room - was effused with the strangest aromas of juniper and eucalyptus, of chocolate and cinnamon. One of the gypsies, a stout woman with very long fingernails removed the bandanna from her own head and tied it over Claire’s to conceal her baldness. Claire felt a stinging between her legs. A tall, thin gypsy began to push tiny purple-green leaves into her panties to soothe the pain. A third held a cup of aromatic tea to her lips and insisted that she drink it. Her head began to swim and she continued to be dizzy in her dreams throughout the night until just before dawn when she fell into a sound sleep. When she awoke she felt detached, stuck somewhere between reality and the dream.

  Elliot wasn’t in bed when she finally arose, about mid-morning. She found him on the patio setting the table for breakfast. He held out a cup of strong, Greek coffee to her, made the way she liked it with lots of cream and Sweet ‘n Low. Drinking it made her feel better and the dream faded from her consciousness. He prepared a wonderful breakfast of orange juice, a fruit salad, scrambled eggs, and crispy potatoes. To her astonishment, he’d even made biscuits and had somehow found sausage gravy to go with them.

  “Where did you ever find sausage gravy in Greece?” She asked. She was particularly amazed since he had always teased her about the stuff - one of the interesting tastes she’d acquired during her period in a more southern environment. She admitted that it was a totally guilt-ridden pleasure.

  “A great chef never reveals his sources,” he chided her.

  “No, seriously, where did you get it?”

  “I made it of course! There’s lots of sausage in Greece, you know.” She was devouring her third biscuit. She hadn’t had biscuits and gravy since long before leaving the United States. “I’m not sure what they make it out of, but they spice it about right.”

  Claire stopped eating in mid-bite. “What do you mean; you don’t know what’s in it? What could be in it?”

  “Just about anything, I suppose.” He was being infuriatingly cool, just to get her going. “They have left-over parts from all kinds of creatures that they could mix in there.”

  She wasn’t going to let his teasing get to her. Besides, it was still delicious no matter what was in it.

  “Well I think it’s great and I don’t care if it’s made from sea polyps.” She paused before asking meekly, “It isn’t sea polyps, is it?”

  “No, Darling, it’s pork sausage. They have pigs in Greece. Rather hard to catch, though. Nothing’s slipperier than a Greece pig!” He laughed heartily at his own joke and Claire threw a biscuit at him. They bantered and laughed through the rest of the breakfast and the clean-up afterwards. Their fun continued as they headed off to the sea in early afternoon. Claire was in such good spirits that she decided to bare her smoothly hairless scalp for all to see - it was too hot for the wig anyway. He ran his hand over the top of her head, a look of erotic pleasure on his face. His hand rested on the soft skin on the back of her head and he pulled her face to his, kissing her deeply, passionately.

  She did draw on her eyebrows with a waterproof pencil, Jean-Pierre-style with the high, rounded arc, and used tawny-colored eye shadow to accent her permanent liner. Her tan was, by now, deep, golden brown and even, so she didn’t need to use any other makeup. She wore a gold toe ring and a metallic gold polish on her fingers and toes.

  They took a bus packed with sun worshipers of all ages to a nude sunbathing overlook at the edge of the cliffs above the magnificently blue Aegean Sea. He quickly stripped down to nothing as Claire stood somewhat numbly watching him. She’d removed her cover-up. Her tiny bikini didn’t cover much of her breasts, and the bottom didn’t cover her much there either. For a moment, his hard, tan body distracted her. Elliot was terribly handsome and he was astonishingly beautiful to her: his shape, his skin, his evident strength, the warm expression on his masculine face. Then she gathered her thoughts and realized that she was still self-conscious about removing all of her clothes among strangers in public. He sensed some discomfort in her. His face assumed a curious expression and she knew he was asking her what was wrong.

  “I feel kinda funny undressing here, in front of all these people whom I don’t know.”

  “Have you forgotten that you were naked almost twenty-four hours a day on René’s yacht?”

  “Of course not, but it was different then. I knew those people. It was like a private showing,” she laughed, nervously. “Here, everyone can see me, and I don’t know these people.”

  “Are you embarrassed about your rings?”

  She thought for a minute and then said confidently, “No, not at all. I love the rings. In fact, I adore them. I think they were always meant to be there. Now that I have them, now that I’m with you, Elliot, I feel fulfilled. No, I think I just have more of a clothing taboo than you do.”

  “Then do what’s comfortable, Lover. Wear your bikini if that’s what you want.”

  She looked around her. The only people wearing anything were those just arriving at the site. She sat down on a blanket and, with some internal struggling, quickly removed her top. She glanced around and saw no one looking at her at all. She did notice two other women with nipple rings, one of whom had long black hair and was, if not Greek, from somewhere along the southern Mediterranean coast of Europe. The other had short, dark curls which were frosted a pale yellow at the tips. She looked French to Claire. As Claire stared at her very large rings, the woman looked up and noticed her. An inquiring look crossed her face and then she seemed to notice Claire’s rings and smiled. The woman rose and walked over toward Claire. Claire became more nervous at the thought of trying to talk to the woman, and found herself, much to her bemusement, staring at the woman’s very small patch of dark pubic hair. She immediately looked up into the woman’s face as she approached.

  “Très bon.” The woman said, indicating Claire’s nipple rings.

  “Thank you, ah, mercí,” Claire replied.

  “And your head is very beautiful without your hair, too. You are British or American?”

  “American. I’m afraid my French isn’t too good, although his is.” Elliot was still standing above her with a sly grin on his face.

  “I speak English a little. Do you like mine?” Her hands lightly touched her breasts, indicating her nipple rings. They were larger and heavier than Claire’s, probably six-gauge and easily an inch and a quarter in diameter, but her nipples were also larger than Claire’s so her rings didn’t look too ponderous. The rings were white gold.

  “They’re beautiful and impressive,” Claire responded. “They’re much heavier than mine. They must have really hurt when they were put in.”

  “Not really. I started with some a little smaller than yours and then gradually worked up to these. I have had them this large for about a year now. They are very easy, see?” She unsnapped one and popped it out. Claire winced; she’d never thought about taking the rings out of her own nipples, because that wasn’t an option with hers. The woman handed the ring to Claire. Claire felt its weight and couldn’t imagine anything that heavy tugging on her.

  “Your rings are lovely and light,” the woman noted, “I like the true gold color. I think I might get yellow gold the next time. May I see one?”

  Claire blushed. “I’m sorry, they don’t come out.”

  “Oui? How deliciously sexy! Did he put them in you?” She nodded at Elliot.

  “Yes, not very long ago. They’re mostly healed, but still a little tender.”

  “Did he take your hair too?” Apparently without realizing it, the girl reached up to touch her full, head of curls, as though to assure herself that they were still there.

  “No, that just sort of happened. But he likes me this way.”

  “You must be very intimate lovers. I had to have my piercings done at a shop and my boyfriend wouldn’t look at them for over a week. Fortunately, he likes them very much now.” She easily reinserted the ring into her nipple and snapped it into place. She bent down to look more closely at Claire’s.

  “If they are still tender at all, I recommend that you stop by a special store in Santorini. They carry a variety of herbal medicines and other interesting … ah … what is your word … concoctions? – oui concoctions - which will greatly speed the healing. I have used their creams myself. I think they are quite safe, although they make their own medicines. The shop is a number of blocks off a main shopping street. It is called Romania’s. I think the owners are from Romania originally, although they have been on Thera for many years.”

  “I’ll try anything that can heal these faster. And my others too,” she added without thinking.

  “You have other piercings?” Claire looked down at her swimsuit bottom and the French woman immediately knew what she meant.

  “I have always wanted to do that, but I will only do it if my companion comes along with me. Alas, he is not of such a mind. Is that why you conceal yourself with the bikini bottom?”

  “Actually no, I’m still a little self-conscious about stripping down to nothing in public.”

  “Ah yes,” she said smiling good-naturedly. “You Americans are still rather hesitant when it comes to revealing anything about your sexuality in public. In private, though, I know better. I have been with American men and women and they exhibit no inhibitions in the bedroom. I assume your consort is not an American.”

  Elliot hadn’t spoken up to that point. He had just stood there enjoying the discussion between Claire and her new acquaintance. He started to speak but Claire chimed in for him, “Oh, but he is American.”

  “Then you must be most unusual,” she said directly to him, a note of interest in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed by Claire.

  “Perhaps,” was his understated comment. “With the right woman, the sexuality of any man rises to the surface and can be seen by anyone looking for it. That sexuality feeds her and the two begin to resonate as one. For me, Claire is that person, and the only one with whom I share my most intimate self.”

  “You are a most fortunate woman, Claire.” She held out her hand. “My name is Livia. I expect we may see each other again in Santorini. In the meantime, I suggest you visit Romania’s. I wish you well.” She extended a hand to him. He took it and kissed it lightly. Livia involuntarily shuddered ever-so-slightly, smiled and returned to her companion. Within moments, Claire had removed her bikini bottom, pulled him down to lie next to her, and rolled over onto her stomach. Bad idea, Claire! She thought to herself as the ring through her clitoris reminded her that it was still very much there. She rolled back onto her side to face him. She rested her head on her hand, looking into his eyes. She saw emotions there that belonged only to her. She saw kindness and amusement and affection and – for a moment - could it have possibly been real love she saw?

  Within an hour they were romping naked along the rocks. Claire had forgotten all about her earlier shyness, but remained a little haunted by the hint of love that had appeared for the briefest of moments in Elliot’s eyes.

  By late afternoon they’d returned to the villa to clean up. Claire wanted to go shopping for wigs so they headed off to the Oia section of Santorini. Claire wore the long, curly wig and almost immediately regretted it. The air was still stifling from the hot afternoon. The slight cooling of early evening hadn’t yet set in. The Oia shopping district was not as crowded with tourists as Fira, the main shopping area. Nevertheless, Oia was still crowded with about half tourists and half locals. After asking around, they found a wig shop a little ways down a side street. Claire was thankful to find that it was air conditioned - still far from universal on the Greek island. Upon entering she pulled off the long wig and announced, “I want something short and cool!”

  After trying what seemed to him to be “hundreds of wigs,” Claire settled on three different short styles. One was a mass of short, dark brown curls which gave her a delightful, natural, doll-like appearance. The second was one of the few blonde wigs in the shop. It was a very short, straight shag with inch-long, jagged bangs and wispy hairs in front of her ears and trickling onto her neck. The third, which she wore, was a natural redhead, short and delicate-looking, with petite bangs and just a slight amount of curl, similar in texture and style to Claire’s hair after Jean-Pierre had first cut it.

  Elliot was quite pleased with the look of each of them on her but was particularly attracted to the red one. He immediately suggested that they head back to the villa to “try it out in a more intimate setting.” Claire suggested that they discipline themselves for a little while because she wanted to find the shop that Livia had mentioned.

  He was skeptical. “I don’t believe in herbal medicines. You have no idea what you’re getting into. You might poison yourself or have an allergic reaction or make the soreness worse.”

  “No offense, Lover, but if there’s a chance to make this soreness go away, I’m going to take it. The way you’ve been working on me lately, the older rings down there are never going to heal. I’m also ready to get the newer one healed as fast as I can – I want to see how much better and quicker I get aroused when it’s really ready for play or sex.”

  “I may be guilty of totally overusing you, but it seems to me that you’ve been a most willing partner.” He laughed. “Come on, if you want to find the shop, I’ll help. I don’t want you to be sore; you know I’m not into pain for pain’s sake, but I do love your piercings. That said, with the pain you experienced when I pierced you and the soreness afterwards, I would have stopped with your nipple rings, at least for then, if you hadn’t insisted on the others.”

  “I was in the heat of passion and you wanted to do it. I know you did. But it’s true; I love all of these rings. I love them because the man whom I’m completely devoted to put them in me. And yes, I’ll take responsibility for my poor, abused clit – but I’ll bet you’ll like it the best when everything’s recovered down there. Since there’s space for a couple more rings on each side – I want you to put them in there sometime when we can find two pairs to match. It was an incredible turn-on when you pierced my nether lips. They’re quite sensitive too – they contribute a lot to my arousal. So those rings will be important in turning me on even more than before I had them – mentally by just being there and by the physical sensations of pleasure they cause in my inner labia.”