The Throne

I opened the door and my life changed. For the second time in six months.

I had heard something in the bedroom when I entered our suite, but I didn't process what the sound was until I already had my hand on the door. As the door swings open, I am greeted by a vision of my wife of two weeks, stark naked on all four, her breasts swaying, as a hotel employee, I think he was a cabana boy, his pants down, plunges in and our of her. She turns her head and gives me a sneering smile and I close the door again.

As I sit on the couch, I wonder how I had not seen this coming. I am supposed to be a genius, but I sure was stupid. Was this her plan all along? I think back to our first meeting, six months ago.

*******

I was sitting at my favorite cafe near my condo in silicon valley. I am here at 8:00 in the morning, seven days a week, almost always at the same table, always alone. I always have the same order: a croissant, a small bowl of fresh melon and berries, and a large hot chocolate. I like my life predictable -- although I have never been formally diagnosed, I suspect I am on the spectrum. If you met me, I bet you would think so, too.

My life was going about to my expectations. I went to MIT at seventeen. If you don't know it, there are really two student bodies there. About two thirds of the students are more or less normal college students. They are smart by normie standards, but not MIT smart. Many of them are children of alums or celebs. They generally have to work hard at their classes, party hard and some of them cheat a lot to get through.

Then there are what people think of as MIT students. I was one of those. We are almost all misfits, nerds. geeks. Whatever you want to call us. We might forget to go to class for a week, but the course material is not actually that challenging for us, so we catch up.

If you put a bunch of jocks in a dorm together, pretty soon they would have a pecking order of who was the strongest, who was the fastest, but there would be constant competitions to refine your place in the pecking order. We were no different, but instead of arm wrestling, we competed on logic puzzles or abstract math. I wasn't top dog in my class, but close enough to the top to engender a lot of respect from both the students and the faculty.

I got recruited by a local start-up software company right out of school. That company didn't go well -- they rarely do. But after two years there, I got a FAANG job (Facebook Apple Amazon Netflix Google -- the highest aspiration for tech workers), which is where I still am two years later. I was at the end of the wave of absurdly high salaries. Some of my peers have been let go in the recent cost cutting, but they seem happy with my work.

I have established a simple, predictable life. I like predictable.

This particular morning, something unpredictable happened. The cafe is more crowded than usual for a Wednesday. A beautiful young woman, about my age, asks if she can share my table with me. She sets her coffee cup and a plate with a pastry down on what is now our table, breaking my routine.

I had noticed her walking around, scouting for a table. Most of the people here this early in the morning are regulars. She was most noticeable for her outfit, short white shorts and a green halter top that shows her boobs to a nice extent. And much of her belly. She is about 5'7", slender, with above average sized breasts for such a slender body, probably C cups, and long brown hair. She is minimally tanned, so she may not have been in California for long.

"Thanks, this is a godsend. I was trying to figure out if I could eat standing up."

"No problem, there is room at the table," I say, trying not to sound too grumpy.

I haven't been this close to a woman with this much exposed skin in months, not since I broke down and went to a strip club. I will probably think about her when I masturbate tonight.

"Oh, my name is Eileen. A family friend lent me his condo for two months out here to give me a change of scenery. I just moved in Monday."

"I'm Tristan. I have a condo over there, pointing to the building across the street."

"Have you lived here long? It seems nice, but it's probably too expensive a neighborhood for me to live in long term. What things should I check out while I am here?"

"I mostly just work and stay in my condo. I'm not sure I am a good guide for you. I suppose it depends on what you like to do."

"I will probably see you around, so think about it," she says. And she gives me a peck on the cheek and is gone.

I keep thinking about her all day at work. And I do masturbate that night imagining untying that halter. Twice.

I am back at the same table at the same time with the same breakfast the next morning. I see her again, now in a blue short skirt and a white top. She comes over and says, "Good morning Tristan, I am glad you are here again."

"Hello, Eileen. I am here every day at the same time eating the same thing, usually at this same table."

She sits down at the side of the table next to me today, rather than across the table like she did yesterday. She has the top two buttons unbuttoned, ones that I would expect to be buttoned, giving me another good view of her boobs today. Even more exciting, her blouse is largely translucent and she is wearing a lacy bra. I can clearly make out her nipples and her areolae. More masturbation material for tonight.

"I was thinking about what I like doing," she says. "I enjoy art museums and nature mostly."

"There are plenty of both in the region. Do you like oceanside, forests or mountains better?" I ask her.

"Oceans and then forests, I think. We don't have many mountains back east."

"Where back east? I lived in Cambridge, Mass for six years," I say, maybe finding a commonality with someone who is quickly becoming my dream girl.

"I lived in or near Lowell my entire life, until Monday. Were you Harvard or MIT?"

"MIT," I say.

"Oh, one of the smart ones instead of a rich one."

I change the subject, saying, "You could take the coastal highway down towards LA or you could drive up in Marin County. And if you like forests, the redwoods aren't that far. Many of the good art museums are right in the city. I haven't been to many of them, but I would like to."

She puts a hand on my bare forearm. It feels like electricity sparking through me. And I suddenly having a raging hard-on. I hope I can calm down before I have to stand up.

She stands up, gives me a peck on the cheek again and then puts her arm on my far shoulder and gives me a quick squeeze, pressing her boobs against my upper arm and back. She whispers in my ear, "Thanks for being my first California friend, Tristan."

And then she is gone. If I can't get myself to calm down in the next few minutes, I am going to need to go back to my condo for some quick relief before I can go to work. I sit for a few minutes, but going back to my condo wins.

The next day, I have to control myself not to go to breakfast early. I know she will start meeting other people soon and I will be forgotten. I am not quite a virgin -- I had a couple drunken escapades with a fellow student, but she was as much a geek as I was. Neither of us were particularly attracted to the other; we really just wanted to both be able to say we weren't virgins. This may be the most conversation I have had with anyone nearly as gorgeous as Eileen anytime in my life. Let alone getting hugged and kissed, even if they are only pecks on the cheek.

When I do go down for breakfast, Eileen is waiting at my table and waves to me as I am ordering my breakfast. I say ordering, but I walk up, they say, "the usual?", I nod and press my phone against their machine, without ever saying a word. It's one of the good things about my breakfast.

She is wearing a sleeveless pink blouse, just as translucent as yesterday's was, and equally unbuttoned. She is back to the white shorts from Wednesday.

"I know your favorite breakfast restaurant, but what about dinner? I am getting tired of coking for myself. And I hate eating out alone. Could you have dinner with me somewhere tonight? I don't know anyone else here yet. Not necessarily a date, I can pay for it or we can go dutch. But it would really make my day."

"There is an Italian place a block over I like. It's called Enrico's. Friday afternoons are pretty lax at work, so I can leave whenever. What time should I make the reservation for? And it's on me, unless you aren't comfortable with that."

"How about 6:00? Do I need to dress up at all? And you can pay if you want, I just don't want you to have any expectations of this as a date. Some guys do, you know."

"Probably not shorts, but it's pretty casual. I will put on a dress shirt instead of my tee. I can meet you here by the cafe at 5:45 if that's okay with you. And I would never presume anything of you."

"Sounds great," she says, "But I should let you eat in peace. I am sure you are getting sick of me hanging around you."

She puts both arms around my neck and gives me a quick hug, pressing her boobs against my chest before giving me a quick kiss on the lips and running off. I at least manage to keep myself enough in control to not need a stop at my condo on the way to work today.

She is waiting for me by the cafe when I come by at 5:43. She is wearing a red halter and blue linen slacks that fit her precisely. It is tight enough across the front that I get a good idea of her mound. And I'm pretty sure she is not wearing anything under them or it would show.

We have a very pleasant meal and she is getting a bit tipsy from the wine. On the walk back, I ask my first real question, "Why did you need a change of scenery?"

She answers, "My boyfriend ran off with my best friend last month. I was still living at home with my parents. But they were killed in a car crash the next week. I inherited a bit of money, so I am okay for a while for money. At the funeral, a close friend of my father's offered me the condo to get me a break from everything back there."

She is starting to cry. I put a hand on her shoulder to try to comfort her. That just made the waterworks open up. She leans her head against my chest and starts sobbing. I put my arms around her to comfort her.

She finally recovers her composure a bit, Between remaining tears, she says, "Thank you Tristan, I think you are my only friend in the world right now."

She reaches up and gives me another kiss on the lips, this one not so quick.

Then she says, "Would you like to come up to my condo?"

I control my urges and say, "I am not sure that is a good idea tonight. You are too emotional and had too much wine to make a good judgement. I really appreciate the invitation though."

"You are a good man, Tristan. I think I may be falling for you."

I watch her walk off towards her condo as I stand there. When she is gone, I walk over to mine, half kicking myself and half congratulating myself.

I am disappointed when I get down Saturday morning and she is not waiting for me. But about ten minutes later she appears, in her translucent pink top and the blue skirt. She sits down with me, with her usual coffee with a cream and two sugars, but she has a different kind of pastry each day. Today is a cherry danish.

"Thank you for being such a gentleman last night. I haven't talked to anyone about what happened last month since I left Massachusetts and it all kind of came rushing out."

"Well that was a truly tragic stretch for you. It would be shocking if it wasn't emotional for you. My parents were divorced when I was little and I haven't seen my father in years. I was an only child and my mother raised me on her own, but she died of breast cancer three years ago, so I don't really have any family left either."

She comes over and gives me a big hug, saying, "I'm so sorry."

It's hard to feel too sorry for myself when I can feel her tits pressed against me. "Do you have plans for today?" I ask.

"Do you have any? I realized all the things you suggested require a car and I don't have one."

"Would you like me to take you on a drive on the coastal highway?"

"Would you? That would make me very happy."

"Do you need anything before we go? Or we can just get my car from the garage without either of us needing to go upstairs."

"Let's go as soon as we finish our breakfast!" she says.

I explain that I don't drive anything fancy, saying, "I don't really have anything to spend all the money they give me on, but expensive cars seem silly to me."

It's less than an hour drive to Half Moon Bay, my first stop I imagined for the day in my off the cuff itinerary. I park near the trail and we get out and walk along the beach for about half an hour before turning round to head back. She stops several times to take pictures with her phone. Even taking one of me. She says, "This is the most peaceful place I can imagine. This is just what I needed. Thank you."

Shortly before we get back to the connection to the parking lot, she grabs my hand and we walk hand in hand the last ten minutes to the car. The only female I have ever held hands with was my mother when I was little. My heart is racing a mile a minute.

She has her hand on my thigh as I drive down south along the highway. We stop every once in a while at a scenic overlook or a state park. now always holding hands as we walk around. At the last stop, she stops, wraps her arms around me and gives me a kiss. Not a quick peck, but a serious, passionate 'I love you' kiss.

We then drive into Santa Cruz to find a nice seafood restaurant for lunch. We sit and eat, staring into each other's eyes as much as talking. We hold hands the entire meal. I tell her all about my work. She says she had been working as a receptionist back home, but she's not sure what she wants to do now.

Her hand is on the inside of my thigh for the drive back home from Santa Cruz. As we get out of the car in the garage, I say, "What should we do for the rest of the day. And what do you want for dinner, in case we need reservations."

She says, "We can get delivery when we need food. I am hungry for something else now. Let's go up to your condo."

She is rubbing my butt as we ride up the elevator. When we get in the apartment, she pushes me down in the first chair and reaches down and unfastens my pants, pulling out my suddenly completely erect member. She wraps her mouth around my cock and starts teasing the tip of my penis with her tongue, while she holds the top few inches in her mouth. She brings a hand in to start stroking my shaft up and down. This is the first time I have ever received oral sex. It is a wonderful feeling. Better than I had imagined. I start to warn her, "I am about to-", but she just takes my cock deeper into my mouth. She swallows every drop and then licks around my shriveling cock before standing back up.

"Has anyone ever taught you how to lick a pussy, Tristan?" she asks.

I shake my head no, saying, "I have barely ever touched a pussy and never when either of was at all sober."

"Well I am going to teach you some things MIT didn't, I guess."

She pulls off her skirt and her lace panty and then, standing astride, she spreads her lips to show me.

"This is the clit. It is very sensitive so stay away from it until I am good and ready. The areas all around it are good places to start. I usually like circles around my clit, but sometimes I like it varied. A key is listening to me, feeling how I react to each touch. If I seem to like it, do more. If I really don't want you to do something, I will tell you not to. For now, stay away from my asshole. We may get to that later, but we need to learn each other's bodies better first."

She looks around and sits on the edge of another chair leaning back and rotating her hips up while spreading her legs as far open as possible. She gives me final instructions, "Today, just lick my clit until I cum. Don't stop right away when I do, but ease down and stop focusing on the clit so much, I will tell you when to stop altogether."

I crouch between her legs and start to lick. As I get closer to her clit, she starts to moan. I stay focused on the clit now, and she is whimpering desperately. Suddenly, she pushes my face into her pussy while she groans loudly. As she relaxes on the back of my head, I shift away from her clit, licking around the other folds.

She finally says, "That's enough. That's enough."

Then she adds, "You sure that you haven't done that before? You are pretty good at it."

She stands up and gives me a hand up and gives me a kiss. She then reaches down to my cock, which has regained its erection and says, "I guess you are ready for the main course now. We will probably be more comfortable on your bed."

I lead her back to the bedroom and throw the old clothes off my bed. She takes off her pink blouse and her bra. I follow her lead and strip. I am staring at her naked breasts.

"You can play with them if you want. They won't bite."

I grab a boob in each hand and start squeezing them. I reach my face down and start suckling them.

"That's enough slobbering on them for now. I will teach you later how to please me through my girls, but we have more important things tonight. What positions have you fucked in the past?"

"I guess it's called missionary. I just kind of crawled on her, stuck my penis in and out of her vagina until I came."

"Did she cum?"

"Nothing like you just did, no."

"Then she didn't cum. By the way, try to say cock and cunt or something sexier like that. I want you to be able to please me, make me cum. We are going to start with a simple cowgirl position. Do you know what that is?"

"I've seen it in a bunch of porn."

"Don't believe most of what you see in porn. But at least you understand the basic idea. Now lie on your back in the middle of the bed."

I do as she says and she climbs up and straddles me. She guides my cock into her cunt. She is much wetter and warmer than the only other cunt I ever felt. It feels so good, I start thrusting my hips up into her.

"STOP. I will control the pace. You stay as still as you can. Now are your nipples sensitive?"

"I don't know? Should they be?"

"Many men's are. Let's see if you are."



It feels very good as she gently draws her fingers around my chest. When she gently pinches a nipple, I moan.

"Oh, you are sensitive. I will hold off for now. You are already struggling to hold on. I am going to slowly start moving, but I need you to hold still."

She starts to rock her hips slowly pulling almost all the way off my cock before forcing it back into her cunt. I am straining to not start thrusting my hips up into her.

"I will help myself along before you lose control," she says as she reaches a hand down into her pussy.

It looks like she has her middle finger on her clit, rubbing it. She starts rocking her hips faster on and off my cock. I lose my control and start to thrust against her and I am soon pumping her full of my cum. A few seconds later I see her face contort and I can feel the muscles in her cunt squeezing my cock. Sex feels even better than I had expected.

"Wasn't that nicer waiting for me?"

She leans down and gives me a big kiss before putting all her weight on my chest. Feeling her bare skin against mine, her boobs pressed directly against me is another new sensation for me. Life is wonderful.

We fuck three more times that night, with some delivery Thai in the middle. Each in a new position and with a new lesson for me. We sleep with our naked bodies pressed against each other. I get another lesson and another position before breakfast.

When we go down, she is wearing her clothes from yesterday, but she heads back to her condo for a change of clothes. She comes down wearing her blue linen pants and a yellow halter I had not seen yet. She is also carrying a bag with her

"Stuff to stash in your condo so I can avoid any more walks of shame."

While she was gone, I had checked out local art museums. "There is a local museum with mostly African and Asian art and a modern art gallery nearby. Or we can go down to San Jose or into the city if you want something else. Assuming you would like to try an art gallery today."

We choose the Cantor Art Center, with its focus on African and Asian art. It turned out not to really be either of our tastes, but we had fun and gawked at the exaggerated body parts on a display of fertility figures. We had a light lunch at the museum and then went home and fucked again. After a nice steak dinner, we fucked three more times.

Life becomes a bit of a blur. Everyday we would fuck before breakfast then go down to our standard cafe breakfast. She never got a regular pastry, rotating through most of their choices seeming arbitrarily. I would then go to work and she would hang out waiting for me. We would fuck before dinner and twice after. On most weekends, we would go on a Saturday and a Sunday adventure. but occasionally we just stayed home and fucked. Life was really good.

Every few days she would move a few more things over to my condo and after about six weeks, she moves everything, which wasn't much more, and we are officially living together. We start talking about longer term plans including getting married. I find out she inherited about a quarter million dollars from her parents. I have about twice as much in savings and investments, but I also have the condo and a big paycheck. Neither of us should be in this for the money.

She starts to get jumpy and moody. We realize that she is getting nervous that her world will fall apart again. I don't really have a friend network to introduce her to and she is not meeting anyone on her own. Irrationally, she worries that I will leave her, just like her last boyfriend did. We start planning our wedding. And she wants to go on a long honeymoon. A grand tour of Europe: London, Paris, Monaco, Rome, Athens and the Greek islands. We both have money, so we book the best hotels in each place, staying for three nights in each location. Even though I haven't taken any vacation this year, I have to beg work to give me permission to borrow from next year's PTO pool.

She has an idea to keep us together. If she leaves me, she gets nothing in settlement. But if I leave her, she gets half of my earnings forever. There is no way I will ever leave her, so I agree. We have a small wedding on the beach at Half-Moon Bay, where we first fell in love, with just a few people from work. We spend a night at a hotel right there. But she is too tired for any sex that night. Or the next morning. We fly to London. The flight was too tiring, sorry dear.

We enjoy the sights of London together, but something is wrong. Paris is more of the same. In Monaco, she wanted to spend the evening in the room while I go to the famous casino. That was earlier tonight.

*******

I have managed to review the last six months of my life in the twenty minutes since I opened that door. The cabana boy finally comes hurrying out, pulling up his pants as he goes, never looking at me.

Eileen, with a bathrobe around her, comes sauntering out after a few more minutes. "He is very well hung and certainly knows how to use it. A nice change from putting up with you."

"Did you ever care about me?"

"You were sweet to me. I had planned on seducing you that first night, but you were too much of a gentleman. And the walks on the beach were nice. But you are the most boring person on the planet. And you are fucking odd."

"Was anything you told me true?"

"I did used to live in Lowell. But I never knew my father and my mother kicked me out when I was thirteen. The boyfriend leaving was completely made up."

"Who let you use the condo?"

"Oh, I was fucking the owner every afternoon while you were at work. He was at least a better lay than you."

"And the inheritance?"

"That was the last sap's money, I gave him a deal for a lump sum settlement right before I set my sights on you."

"Why me?"

"You were obviously well off, single and completely helpless with women. You made the perfect mark."

"So what now?"

"I would prefer if you slept on the couch until we can move somewhere with two bedrooms. I do what I want and get to spend your money while I do it. I obviously won't complain if you want to find a fling, but I'm not sure who would want you. I'm certainly not going to throw away my sugar daddy by divorcing you. I won't contest a divorce if you want one and I would probably even settle for less than half your remaining lifetime earnings. But any settlement is going to be well into seven figures."

"You bitch! I really loved you. I should..."

"You loved me because I wanted you to. You mostly loved all the sex if you are honest with yourself. And if you were a real man, you would probably kill me. But I know you aren't, so I am safe."

She's right about that. I don't think I have it in me to do her any real harm. And besides, I don't want to spend the rest of my life in prison. She's not worth it.

But dammit, I am going to sleep in the bed. If she doesn't want to share it with me, she can sleep on the couch. What's she going to do, divorce me?

Lying in bed next to her that night, I think about the so called stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Denial is just not part of who I am. The world is what it is, whether I like it or not. I definitely have the anger. Part of me wants to roll over and strangle her right now. But there's that whole prison thing. Does Monaco have their own prisons or would I end up in a French prison?

My mind gravitates towards bargaining. Trying to find an angle, some way to soften the blow, turning lemons into lemonade is the old saying. That's something I have always been able to do. It's what makes me valuable at work. Maybe I can talk her into having our old relationship a day or two a week. How can I sweeten the deal for her on the other days? I might have to make life uncomfortable for her so I can gain some leverage. Like sleeping in the bed when she doesn't want me here. I manage to get myself to go to sleep pondering the angles.

I wake up before her and order breakfast in bed from room service, trying to start on wooing her again. To be honest, I never wooed her in the first place; she just overcame me like a tsunami.

I wake her up bringing the food in. She looks at it and laughs. "Do you really think you can win me back. You!!?? There is no way I am fucking you or kissing you ever again. And if I ever feel those hands on me again, I will scream. Thanks for the breakfast, but you lose. At least I won't have to eat breakfast at that damned cafe anymore. Now scoot and let me eat in peace."

Back to the anger phase.

We have a thankfully short flight down to Rome mid-day. I go out and explore Rome on my own. For the first time in my life, I think about killing myself. I look at buildings to judge whether they are tall enough to definitely kill me in the fall. I am not a swimmer, so I think about jumping in the river. Rome is supposed to be the city of lovers, but it also feels like a place for spurned lovers to die.

The only time I ever see her is in bed over night. And she has taken to wearing a tee shirt over night. No more glimpses of her body.

I am still in the depths of despair for our flight to Athens. This was the one stop on the trip that was really for me. She would have rather skipped Athens. But when I was a kid, I was obsessed with ancient Greece. I think the technical term was I perseverated on it. Not classical Greece with Plato. Mycenaean Greece, like the Trojan war and all the fun stuff. I had five notebooks full of information on all 1457 known Mycenaean archaeological sites. I actually still have them.

The National Archaeological Museum in Athens has a spectacular collection of artifacts. I head straight for it. As I am geeking out on all this, I suddenly remember site 1132 in my notebooks. The Throne of The Unfaithful Maiden, on Praxos. It had been my least favorite site of all 1457 when I was a kid. I sit down and pull up the Wikipedia page about it on my phone. My memory about it was right. I look at the edit history of the page. The photo is being replaced on a regular basis. I look back at the old photos, and cry out, "It actually works. It's real!"

People in the museum stare at me, but I don't care. I know the solution to my problem. I leave the museum and head back to the hotel. I find the concierge, and overcoming my reluctance to talk to strangers, I give her my name and room number and ask her if she can help me arrange a day trip to the island of Praxos tomorrow.

"You will have to rent a private boat for the day. It won't be cheap."

"I will pay but I want to go with my wife tomorrow. It's important to me."

"Let me call a captain I know."

She picks up the phone and after an extended discussion in Greek, she says, "He says he will take you at 9:30 in the morning. It will cost $1400. Should I reserve a cab for you to get to the harbor as well?"

"Yes please, and thank you so much."

"The captain's name is Dimitrios Pappas. He will be waiting for you with a sign with your name on it."

I head up to our room. I can hear her sounds of passion coming from inside. i go inside and see she no longer bothers to shut the bedroom door. I actually watch them for a while. He is eating her out and she is getting close to an orgasm. Just before she can climax, I rush in and tell the guy, "I'm her husband, get out before I make this an issue."

He quickly grabs his clothes and takes off. My bluff worked there.

"I saw you watching us, you waited until I was almost there to interrupt us didn't you. Bastard. But you are not to going to help and I am not going to finish off with you watching, if that was what you were hoping for."

"No, I was just pointing out that I can make life much less pleasant for you, too. But I can be cooperative with you. I just have one request in exchange. You spend all day tomorrow with me. You don't have to fuck me or even hold my hand. I just want one last day with you before I can say goodbye forever. I even planned a day I think you will like. I have a private boat chartered for tomorrow to take the two of us to a beautiful uninhabited island. We will have a few hour boat ride out to the island, then we hike up to the top of the island, which is supposed to be a gorgeous view of the Aegean islands. I promise I won't touch you. I just want to spend the day with you there. "

"I suppose I can do that. Okay, it's a deal."

We even end up eating dinner together that night. It almost feels like old times. Apparently to her too. When we get back to the room, she says, "I will even throw in one last fuck for you tonight. You aren't the world's greatest lover, but I did at least teach you how to get me off. And you did kind of leave me hanging this afternoon."

I don't really know much real about Eileen, if that is even her name, but she does love sex. I make her cum three times that night and I leave one final deposit in her to remember me by.

At breakfast, she is back to being her nasty recent self and complaining that she gave in to me last night. I don't mention that last night's sex was all her idea. I promise to be a complete gentleman on the trip this morning.

Eileen is wearing a skimpy orange bikini and is carrying a white coverup, I guess for when the sun gets hot.

We take our taxi to the harbor and find the captain, who looks like a Hollywood casting as an old Greek fisherman. As he leads us back to his boat, he asks me if I know the legend of the island and the throne. I nod my head yes.

He asks "Is she..."

I nod my head again. He shakes his head sorrowfully.

When we get to his boat, a handsome young man is already aboard. "This is my nephew, Nikolaos, he will be helping me and serving you refreshments on the trip."

"Can he serve me anything else?" Eileen asks, eyeing him up and down. Her spirits have suddenly improved.

The captain looks at his nephew and sternly shakes his head no.

Once underway, Nikolaos offers us some figs. He says he has water, lemonade or ouzo to drink. Eileen has never had ouzo before and tries it. Too much of it.

Soon she is really coming on to the nephew. She can tell she has him on the hook, even though he has been told no by his uncle. She pulls one of her tits out of its cup and pinches the nipple seductively at him.

She then goes over to the side of the boat and leans over the railing, sticking her backside out. "Niklolaos, don't you want to slide your cock in here," she says, as she pulls down her bikini bottoms. "You can have your choice of holes, American style or Greek style..."

Nikolaos has lost his will power and is starting to pull his pants down as he walks over to her. Suddenly, the captain yells something sharply in Greek and Nikolaos goes into the back of the boat.

"I am sorry lady, but I think that would be very bad luck on this trip. I am afraid I can't allow it."

She pulls her bikini back on, sits down on a bench, and sulks for the rest of the boat ride.

I am enjoying the sea air and the view. And anticipating the top of the island.

We pull up to the island and Captain Pappas pulls me aside. We cannot go up with you. This has to be between you, your wife and the throne. If something happens, and after seeing her today, I expect it will, holler down and I can radio the authorities and Nikolaos will come up for you.

"What was that about?" Eileen asks.

"He was just clarifying what will happen after we go up," I say, technically truthfully.

"Do I have to walk all the way up?" she says, looking up at the rather large hill before us.

"That's the deal. Then I won't stop you from doing anything you feel up to. Let's go!"

We walk up over a rough and scrabble path, past olive trees that are who knows many centuries old. As we ascend, we get a better and better view out over the Aegean. Eileen is tiring seriously by the time we approach the hilltop. She even accepts a hand from me up over the last big step.

She sees the throne, really just a carved stone seat. She cries, "They gave me a seat. I need that so badly."

"It's roped off. I'm not sure that you are supposed to go there," I warn her, knowing she will ignore me.

"That's just to prevent idiots from falling off the cliff. I am not an idiot. And that chair is just calling to me."

She carefully steps over the rope protecting the chair and plops down into the ancient throne. Once she is down, she sighs and announces, "I think this chair was made for me. It is so comfortable. And the view is beautiful. Thanks for making me come up here."

A few minutes later, her voice is becoming concerned, "Tristan, I am starting to feel weird. My arms are heavy."

Still later, the desperation has set into her voice, "Tristan, please help me. I can't move my arms or my legs. And they are starting to feel really weird. I can't even move my head anymore."

"You are beyond my help now. I think Aphrodite may have been trying to help restore us last night, but you rejected it this morning. Let me read you the wikipedia article about the throne."

I pull it back up on my phone, reading it verbatim from the article.

The Throne of the Unfaithful Maiden

"I assume I should just skip over the Greek names."

Hearing no reply, I go back to reading from the article.

is a monolithic stone chair atop the Aegean island of Praxos. It is believed to date from the Mycenaean period, sometime near 1400 BCE. It is noted for its apparent lack of weathering on the seat. It is described in ancient myths as having been constructed by the sorcerer Aechelos for his unfaithful consort Kalliota, named for her legendary beauty.

The Legend

According to the Suda, Praxos was the home of the legendary sorcerer Aechelos. He is usually said to have cast a magic spell over the waters around the island, making it impossible for any to pass. In Homer's Iliad, Jason spots the island in the distance, but avoids it because of the known treacherous waters. In some versions of the legend, Aechelos gave a magic stone to a single sailor allowing the sailor to pass. This sailor would bring food to the island and great men from around the Aegean, who, according to the legends, came seeking magical help from the sorcerer. They would pay great riches for the spells and charms Aechelos could provide. So Aechelos became very rich, but lonely.

One day, a powerful ruler came seeking Aechelos help, bringing his beautiful daughter Kalliota with him. Aechelos was instantly smitten with her and offered to perform extra tasks for the ruler if the daughter would remain on the island with him. The ruler did not want to abandon his daughter, so a bargain was struck. She would remain on the island for one week and the sorcerer would ply her with jewels and precious gowns and then she would decide whether she wanted to stay or not. If she chose to stay, Aechelos would perform the requested task and promise that the ruler would have another beautiful daughter.

According to the legend, Aechelos was always kind to her and showered her with jewels and fine gowns. She knew that he could make delicious feasts with his magic and that she would be well cared for, so she decided to stay. But within a year she longed for companionship, especially with a younger man. She would sit atop the hill and watch over the other islands.

The sailor was getting old and started bringing his youngest son Ioannis to help on the voyage and learn to take over from his father. But Ioannis and Kalliota fell in love, and Aechelos discovered their secret rendezvous. He carved a magical throne on top of the hill and used more of his power than on any other feat. Kalliota is magically drawn to the seat, but when she sits in it, she turns to stone. Ioannis sees her stone body in the chair and weeps for her. Each of his tears turn into a small toad, which is the mythical origin of the Ioannis toads, a species found only on Praxos.

The throne is said to still attract unfaithful women and can turn them to stone. Ioannis toads will come and mourn their foolishness.

Eileen is now a statue sitting in the chair, apparently made from some sort of soft limestone. Her whole appearance is a bit anachronistic. She looks like an ancient statue, but her bikini and her Apple Watch are still obvious, out of place for the expected period.

Two small frogs have already hopped up into the chair. I wonder if she could hear the whole description. I wonder if she is still aware or not. "I will miss you," I say, hoping she can still hear me.

I holler as loudly as I can down to the captain. I can see him go to his boat while Nikolaos comes up the hill towards me. He looks at the statue of Eileen and shakes his head. "I didn't believe the legend. My uncle was afraid I would be turned into a frog if I had taken her on the boat."

About an hour later, a police boat pulls up beside Captain Pappas's boat. I see two men, one in uniform, come up the hill and see her statue. They each shake their head. The man not in uniform introduces himself as Detective Georgiou. "I have been here for two previous incidents before I became a detective, but this is my first time as the lead," he says, his English accented, but still easy to understand.

He asks for my statement and I describe her climbing over the rope and sitting in the chair. He asks if I knew the legend and I say yes. He asks if she has been unfaithful and I describe the incident in Monaco and the one yesterday in Athens. Nikolaos adds his account of her trying to seduce him on the boat.

"I think when we can let you go for now. This will be officially recorded as an accident with the body unrecoverable. I do ask that you stay in Athens for a few more days, in case there are any more questions. Will there be any family who will be asking questions?"

"She had claimed to be an orphan until last week. She has had no contact I know of with anyone since we first met six months ago."

"Good, that makes it a bit easier. Too many people won't believe that things like this can happen."

Then he adds, "Dimitrios will take you back to Athens. You are at the Hilton you said, right? If you have to change hotels, please let us know."

I take a much more somber boat ride back to Athens. The captain and his nephew let me sit in peace as I come to accept what has happened. 

I eat dinner alone in the hotel. I can see some of the staff whisper about me. I think the concierge knew why I was going to Praxos, especially when I came back alone. And things like that spread through the staff.

After dinner, I tell the front desk that I need to extend my stay for a few days. They seem to understand. I cancel our reservations in Mykonos and rebook my flight a day earlier, hoping the police will be done with me by then.

I am feeling much more comfortable the next morning, enjoy my solitary breakfast and then do some serious Athens tourism. I spend an entire day studying everything in the museum I abandoned two days ago. The famous statues. The Antikythera mechanism. Even that stupid Indiana Jones movie hasn't ruined my desire to actually see it.

The next day I spend time in the Parthenon museum, then head up the Acropolis. I am really enjoying all of this. That night, the police inform me that I am free to go and wish me luck.

I am on a flight back the next morning, with a connection in London. I have an empty seat next to me, which is both symbolic and preferable. Eileen had insisted on first class seats both ways. It turns out that one of the cabin stewardesses on the flight from London remembers me from the trip over a few weeks ago.

"Where is your wife? She didn't seem to feel well on the flight to London. Is everything okay?"

"This was our honeymoon. There was an incident at one of the archaeological sites and she did not survive."

"I'm so sorry, your name is Tristan, right? Are you okay?"

"I am trying to remember the happiest six months of my life that she gave me and forget that awful ending."

"That's a really good idea. Let us know if you need anything."

An hour later, a second stewardess, this one really cute, comes up and says, "Katie just told me what happened. If you need anything, even company, let me know. I can be very comforting."

Did she just come on to me?

I get back and I decide to go into work on the Friday even though I was scheduled for vacation until Monday. My boss is surprised to see me and I tell him an abbreviated version of the events, similar to what I told the stewardess.

"Are you sure you are okay to work today? We can arrange extra grievance days off if you need them."

"I think I am better off working than anything else."

Later that day I get a call asking me to come to HR. A very cute young woman with short brown hair and a colorful knit short sleeve top greets me when I get there. A very clingy top, which emphasizes her breasts very pleasantly. A little plumper than Eileen, but very sexy.

"I heard what happened. We have some paperwork we need you to fill out, if you are ready to deal with it. Even though you hadn't actually had a chance to do the paperwork about your wife before you left, you were automatically enrolled. That includes a hundred thousand dollar spousal term life policy."

I hadn't thought about getting money out of this. I probably need to figure out what to do with her quarter million dollars. I could try to find the previous sap, but I really don't want to spend time unearthing more dirty laundry about Eileen. I think I will find an appropriate charity to donate it to. I think I remember seeing something raising money for shelters for homeless teens.

"Tristan, are you okay?"

"Sorry I got lost in thought for a minute I guess."

"That's completely understandable. There have to lots of emotions swirling around in you. I can't imagine a more tragic story than yours. I am giving you a card with the EAP number on it. It includes a counselor we provide if you need to talk to someone at any time. And here, I am writing my number on it too if you just need some company or anything."

I glance at her hand. No ring.

I fill out the paperwork and take the card from her and thank her for her kind thoughts.

At breakfast at the cafe on Saturday morning, the barista talks to me more than my expected "the usual?" question.

"I am sorry to pry, but we were wondering where you have been the last few weeks. And what happened to your friend. You two always seemed so happy together."

"We were on our honeymoon, but she had a fatal accident in Greece."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I am trying to remember those six months of utter bliss we had together and forget the tragic ending."

"That's really brave, but if you need some company, I get off at 2PM."

For the first time, I actually notice who I am talking to. She is about my age and quite cute. Not a knockout like Eileen, but her uniform is not helping either.

"To be honest, I was always a bit jealous of your wife. It was quite obvious you had just had sex each morning before you came here. I would like to feel as satisfied as she looked. I am not looking for a romantic relationship, but I would be glad to have some afternoon fun so I can look like that too."

"What time did you say you are done here?"

******

Epilogue:

I check in with the picture on wikipedia regularly. The first picture went up the same day I got back to California. Her statue was weathering oddly, unnaturally. The edges of her bikini are completely invisible now. Her watch is just a slight bump on her wrist, not noticeable unless you are looking for it. Her nipples, just barely visible through her bikini top and wrap are more notable now.

The picture on Wikipedia changes every six weeks or so, weathering far more quickly than even a soft limestone should. It takes just over a year for the statue to wear away to nothing, the throne becoming available for the next unfaithful woman.

I seem to have gained Aphrodite's favor. I always considered religion, whether monotheistic or pagan, as hokum. But I cannot deny now that magic is real, why not the religions of their day as well.

It always felt like our last night was a divinely sent possible reprieve. Maybe it just makes me feel better to think that she was given a last chance and chose not to take it.

But now every cute girl I talk to seems open to relations with me. It could just be that all the lessons from Eileen gives me a confidence now that the cute girls respond to. Aphrodite seems like the simpler explanation to me.