Women of The Rock

An orgy of luscious, long-legged and lean lesbitarians – playful nymphettes mincing about in the sand and sea.  Pillow fights and pedicures.  Baby oil and back rubs.  Sexy secrets shared in the dark.

That’s the fantasy image nursemyra, dolce and i played up for our recent holiday on the sunny island of Lesvos.

As the birthplace of Sappho, the poetess, the village of Skala Eressos has a long history with estrogen.  In recent decades, it has certainly evolved into a pilgrimage location for international lesbians.  Not just a place of historical significance, but a place where same-sex couples can hold hands and cuddle in public, without even the hint of a sideways glance of disapproval from passerby. 

The locals – Grecian families who have lived on the island for perhaps hundreds of years – don’t bat an eye.  They run the super market, bakery and retail establishments.  The sexual orientation of customers is of no concern.

During our stay, we easily developed connections with other guests at the apartments – due to the hospitality of the property caretakers.  Every morning, around 1015, we saw Liz, another guest, riding a borrowed bike into the village, swim fins sticking out of her backpack.  She never failed to invite us to join the group of women who did a daily “Swim to the Rock” – a short swim from a local seaside restaurant to a craggy rock in the sea.  And back*.

i was interested.  i used to be a swimmer, but did my swimming in chlorinated concrete pools.  Without waves.  No fish or sea urchins, either.  Living in the landlocked mid-west, opportunities to swim in the sea are fairly limited. 

Scuba diving is entirely different!  i have a 75 pound tank full of compressed air attached to my back.  i can breathe underwater that way.  Swimming in the sea?  Without a regulator?  That’s a bit different…  As much as i wanted to try it, i wasn’t sure how it would work.

But Liz continued to invite us.  Every morning.  i bought goggles in town – having been warned that a mask would be helpful to avoid grabbing a sea urchin upon arrival at The Rock.  Liz offered loaner fins.  The weather wasn’t entirely cooperative, as we had a couple of stormy days mid-week, and the swim was called off for safety.  By Saturday morning, i decided to try it.

Prepped like an East German lady-swimmer from the 1970’s, i was ready!

Only three of us swimming that morning – representing three continents.  Liz, from Australia.  Annie, from Scotland. And daisyfae, from the USA.  It just so happens that salt water makes you very buoyant.  D’uh!  i could very nearly float there and back with a light boost from the fins.  Slightly against current on the way out, it took maybe 15 minutes before we were hauling ourselves out of the sea onto The Rock.

Although it was far more of a psychological challenge than physical, it felt great to be there.  Grinning like a loon, the sun starting to climb in the sky and beat down on us, the taste of salt water in my mouth, absolute quiet except the sound of the sea gently splashing us and the rocks. 

The view of the village was a little different from offshore.  Always good to adjust your point of view from time to time.

Due to the assistance of a gentle on-shore current, we made it back in under 10 minutes.  Nothing spectacular as far as a workout, but i sure felt like i’d just completed a triathalon as i lumbered out of the water that morning.  Up the stairs, where i joined the non-swimmers, already having coffee.  A round of cheers as i sat down – they were fully aware that it was my first time…

Returning on Sunday for another go, it was a larger group.  Maybe eight of us – including swimmers from Iceland, Scotland, England, Australia and the US.  Certificates of indoctrination were presented to all of the newbies upon our return.  i was officially inducted into the “Women of the Rock Group”.

Sure. We played up the “Sapphic Erotica” angle of our visit to Lesvos.  And naturally, we spent some time stripped bare, soaking up sun, and playing in the sea.  There were pedicures.  And oh, the conversation!  Would have stilled the hearts of many mortal men! 

The reality of our week on Lesvos was not a lesbian fantasy romp.  Sisters.  Not born, but acquired.  For a week, a month or a lifetime.  The reality of that week was far better than the fantasy.


* She emphasized that to be a member of the “Rock Group”, one had to swim out and back.  Hitching a ride on a kayak or raft for the return trip was unacceptable!

25 thoughts on “Women of The Rock

  1. Brilliant 🙂

    I’m of the generation who blames Spielberg for my fear of swimming in the ocean, I still hear the alternating notes of E and F every time I dip my little toe in the water.

  2. Wait, right quote wrong book. or wrong quote right book. whatever. the previous quote was from GUT symmetries. This one is from Art and Lies:

    “Know thyself”, said Sappho, “and make sure that the Church never finds out”.

  3. Does your Women of the Rock certification come with any added benefits, like AAA membership does? Free ice cream toppings? 20% off all lingerie? Prime seating at local lesbian orgies?

  4. Now I’m jealous all over again. Born by the Pacific Ocean, I have been an ocean swimming junkie for years, there is nothing I like better than getting out beyond the surf line, it is a whole other wonderful world, and I am so glad you got indoctrinated into it in such a companionable place. It sounds like the perfect ocean for swimming in — are there sharks in the Mediterranean? Or is the most danger you are in from sea urchins (which can give a very nasty sting)?

    There is a reason we love the ocean, we were born of the sea, the percentage of salt in our blood is the same as the ocean.

  5. Ahhhhh, wonderful story (except possibly for the 70s German swimmer imagery I’m trying to sweep out of my brain pan) and another excellent adventure. Thanks for sharing

  6. I don’t know, Daisyfae – you are being modest – that rock looks pretty far out there to me. I get all spookified and strangely claustrophobic when I get out past the wavey parts, so I’ve always admired those who take their swims in the sea. Lookin good in that suit too, Svenja!

  7. jeanpant – in any case, i think both quotes are just delicious, and appreciate the lead! will have to add a few books to the stack by my bed!

    tNb – i’ve never been afraid of sharks, surprisingly. it’s just squishy stuff and critters i can’t see… scuba is ok, because i’m in it, can see around me, and don’t have to worry (much) about drowning…

    kyknoord – technically, the certificate says “Women of the Rock Band”, because they wanted to be part of a Women’s Rock Band. Clever girls. Groupies are weak…

    blaiser – i am now pretty sure i could do some serious open water swimming, and am looking forward to the next opportunity!

    renalfailure – membership in “dildo of the month” club, plus discounts on softball gear, too!

    nursemyra – i still do not recall. whatever could you be talking about, dear?

    stephanie – i’ve got a couple more bouncing around in my head, but unfortunately, my memory is fading to just a happy, feel-good glow. this is the LONGEST a post-holiday happy-buzz has ever held on…

    rob – absolutely! farting around. NOW, with HUMAN INTERFACE!

    HMH – and we are also MOSTLY water by composition. we feel the lunar tides, i am most certain… drawn to water. rivers, lakes, the sea. hell, i can’t even pass up a juicy puddle after a rainstorm! i really don’t worry about sharks – i know they’re there, but figure they aren’t going to mess with me. the urchins and jellyfish generally won’t kill you. it’s more the ‘unseen’, and being overpowered by waves, that always held me back.

    DP – oh, dear. you simply made that one too easy. i must consult Lo, TG to find out what she does when you simply don’t bother to make it a challenge. by the way, there IS an honorary woman in that group shot. back row. The caretakers of the property where we lodged – a married couple – are in the photo. he is invited to every ‘womens’ event in town… life is good for Mr. Caretaker!

    squirrelqueen – one of my friends saw that picture and said it was sexier than the 1970’s Russian women’s ‘field and track’ athletes, who were suspected of “budgie smuggling” in their leotards…

    mstngsal – maybe a quarter mile out. i know it didn’t take nearly as long to get there as i expected… and i think i’m more of a “Marta” than a “Svenja”, but you would be my current ex-pat expert on the subject of German names…

  8. as the saying goes “when to print the legend and when to leave the facts in” i’ll ignore the truth and stick with the lesbian orgy and somewhere my spidey sense tells me there may have been an Adonis or two involved.

  9. kono – the facts were pretty magical. we had an amazing holiday, no doubt… but there were still a few moments of “epic” that we really can’t write up.

    chris – sorry to bust up the ol’ fantasy bubble, but i suspect many thinking men would have found the reality of our adventures just as hot. you should get to the greek islands. it’s worth the cost of getting there.

  10. I’m inspired by your story I am a ankels in at best. The idea of swimming to the rock, salt are not is impressive. Glad your still an inspriation on the excercise front. I hurt my back a few months ago at the gym and have been only doing slow meandering walks. Missing the endorphines…hmm maybe I ought to….sorry my voice sometimes does that trailling off into a lower whisper. Maybe a nap…

  11. starla – had to get over a mild phobia. suspect i’ll never ditch my fear of heights, though! one demon at a time, i guess! do whatever works for you, find your inspiration where you can, and listen to your body. and sometimes those little voices in your head that say “take a nap instead” are pretty smart, too…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s