eXcessively pleasurable fiction
from the sweet to the forbidden
eXcessica
gay male
anthology
historical
Length: Novel
Heat Level: eXcess 3
Price: $4.99
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Warnings: This title contains graphic language, fetish, nonconsent and m/m, anal and group sex.
For fifty years men come to the island of Cyprus, a Mediterranean paradise split and war torn by a marathon ethnic struggle between Greek and Turk, to the villa where British novelist Lawrence Durrell wrote his acclaimed Alexandria Quartert. Each one comes pulled by his own desires and by the whisperings of the villa itself and each is enticed down to the Tree of Idleness café on the Bellapais square. To ogle and, in turn, be ogled by the young Turkish Cypriot men there—and to take those men back to the villa for hours of unfettered, wanton pleasure, oblivious to any threat of personal damage or to the rending of the delicate balance of the island’s social structure.
And it is not only the foreign visitors to Bellapais who are affected by the enticement woven by the Bellapais villa. The local men, as well, the young—and maturing and aging—men in the Tree of Idleness café are caught up in the constantly reweaving web of desire and wanton lust, island sexual customs, and doomed relationships.
Just when it appears that the villa is willing to put the cycle to rest, to offer solace to those who have found each other again and chosen constancy over wantonness, the villa’s enticing whisperings of the delights of the Tree of Idleness café down on the Bellapais square begin anew.
EXCERPT:
Ahh, the days of drifting down to the Tree of Idleness in the square in the late afternoon and sitting ogling the local Turkish Cypriot men and letting them ogle me until I got that certain look from one I fancied. Then taking him up to my rented villa and letting him vigorously, joyously, and noisily fuck my brains out on a lounger under the sun on the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean.
And then back down to the square in the twilight after dinner with those fairy lights in the olive trees around the fringe of the stone café terrace, and, in that soft light and twittering laughter of the Mediterranean men and wisps of strong Turkish tobacco drifting up, eyeing and being eyed until I got the certain look from one I fancied and took him back up to the villa and let him fuck me in long, slow, sweeping strokes on the terrace under the stars.
And maybe, if he was really, really beautiful and masterful, taking him back to my bed for a night of sleep broken by brief periods of wanton lust, waking to the feel of a hot poker at my hole and a wheedling whisper for permission at my ear and arching back to accept the homage of a throbbing need to be deep inside me. Breakfasting on the terrace by the small pool and then pulling him into the pool and wrapping my legs around his waist and letting the swirling water soften the rhythmic in and outing as I threw my head back and watched the morning Mediterranean light filter through the sighing branches of the olive trees and thought about my late afternoon visit to the Tree of Idleness café in the Bellapais square, already assessing which eyes I would respond to today.
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This book is a fantastic historical panorama of the life changing events that occur in one villa on the island of Cyprus over 50 years. It is much more than a collection of short stories, it is the story of a villa that haunts its inhabitants with erotic desires and struggles subtly to overwhelm them. It is the story of love fighting against the urge for abandoned promiscuity. Great.