As the passenger boat ferrying the crowd from Porto Kalamos to the Mytikas Marina arrived, Doc led the way for the two into the town. Once a small fishing village, the settlement of Mytikas looked both ancient and modern. It was one long, tiled street running close along the sea with small houses and shops on both sides. Looking back across the strait afforded an impressive view of the green island with no visible signs of human occupation.

In the town there were markets for food and tavernas, a fishing gear shop, a small hardware store, three bars, a mini-market, two bakeries, and a pharmacy—all thrown together for the convenience of the locals who lived in Mytikas all year. But for now, it was overrun at mid-summer. That was when the descendants of the early people who settled there would come back for vacations. It was also now crawling with visitors and tourists, mostly from other parts of Greece, but also comprising a colorful mix of internationals who each year found the Ionian islands irresistible.

To help Maera settle her nerves, Doc took her to a café table at the edge of the sea. His island home loomed radiantly in the background. Maera seemed so remarkably placed there in her beautiful new clothing, he thought. And the Nymph could not stop looking at the people as they passed by and stared in turn at her.

"Most these tourists on the mainland want to spend all their days on the sea." he said. "In boats or swimming on the beaches. That would be totally ridiculous for you, Maera. So just what do you want to do while you are over here, off the island for the first time? . . . Besides, of course, looking at new clothes." He laughed.

"I like watching the people," she said.

Just then a young couple holding hands walked by their table. They were oblivious to everything through their joy of being together. Maera was fascinated by them and continued to stare as they passed by and stopped to kiss at the edge of the breakwater.

"You humans do love to love, don't you, Doc?"

"Well . . . yes, I guess that's one of our favorite pastimes as a species."

"As a what?"

"A species. A type of creature. Which we're supposed to share the planet with. Fairly and with respect . . . birds, fish, dolphins, and other species. But sadly . . . humans rarely do."

"Are Nereids species?"

"Yeah, I suppose you are. But I guess since we humans need to reproduce . . . and apparently you and your sisters don't make a habit of it, you'll see a lot of lovers during these days around here. And . . . the products of their lovemaking . . . kids."

"Children! Yes, they are so beautiful!"

"I suppose they are. Most adults like me will usually avoid them . . . if we don't have our own."

"Did you ever have a lover, Doc? And children?"

He paused to think before answering. It was true, he never had a child. But lovers he did have. Though for a myriad of reasons, none lasted.

"No. No children."

"But you must have had a lover . . . maybe many. You are a handsome man."

He smiled back. "Thank you, Maera. And yes . . . I did have a few lovers."

"I hope you were not like the men I have met . . . all hands ! Only wanting to, well . . .you know. Just like Alexandros!"

"Young men make that mistake. Over and over," he said with regret in his voice. "They don't understand the female species. It takes years to finally understand what women want. What they like. Believe me."

"Tell me, Doc," she said, leaning back in her chair with her sun hat on—now truly interested.

"Well . . . they want to be treated . . . kindly. And with respect. To be fair and generous with them. And also they expect . . ."

"No. I mean how to treat them. So they will want to . . . make love. Not rushing everything. Right?"

Doc looked over at his island when hearing this question. He knew he could speak for hours on the subject but had to think what best to say of it.

"Well, yes." he added hesitantly.

"Let's start with kissing, Doc. Why do some men know how to do it . . . and others are like . . . like kissing a fish!"

He laughed. "I hope you've not kissed too many fish," he said, making her smile.

Not one. In my whole life. But most the men I did kiss . . . they kissed like them. And because of that . . . I never did much more with them."

"I see," was all Doc chose to say.

"Alexandros was a good kisser. And he made me want more . . . but then, like all stupid men, he rushed it all. Anxious to get inside me! And that ruined everything!"

"Well, he's gone now. Probably for good."

"I hope it's for good."

Doc could see the devilish side of her coming out now. The energy. Nymph as disruptor, and all the qualities of an inveterate Nereida.

"So, tell me how a man should make a woman want to make love, then, Doc."

He realized it was probably to her benefit, this information—a necessary education to give some of what he had himself learned over the years.

Doc raised his hand and called for a waiter, from whom he ordered a cold beer. The young man was surprised when Maera told him she "never drank—anything." Doc then leaned back in his chair for what he hoped would be a short but frank answer to her burning curiosities.

"A man should be sensitive to the woman's feelings while he's with her." he said earnestly. "To kiss her only when he knows she has waited for that moment. Really waited for it."

Maera nodded in agreement

"As this kissing continues, well . . . he must also read her body . . . and her eyes. To see that she wants him to touch her. To hold her firmly in his arms. To show his strength. The power of his body."

She was silent now. Just listening intently.

"He must put his hands on her only where he senses she will allow them . . . and never too soon. And if things progress, he will kiss her in other places. This is absolutely a must."

"Like . . . where? Where else will he kiss her?"

"On her neck, certainly. And on her shoulders . . . leading down to her breasts if she does not stop him. A man knows she is in the mood for more . . . if she allows him this."

Doc could see that the other people, the sights around the town, the island across the bay—all meant little to Maera now as she seemed transfixed on what he was telling her about lovemaking.

"Go on . . ."

"Well, assuming the couple is somewhere in private . . . the forest, a lonely beach, a bedroom . . . the man will continue to kiss her as he undresses her . . . and himself."

"Yes . . . And then . . .?"

And once she has allowed him these pleasurable things, he will direct her own hands onto him. Where it is exciting to be touched as a man."

"You mean . . ."

"Yes, there."

She was silent again, obviously picturing the scene Doc was explicitly laying out for her.

"A knowledgeable man would then kiss her more fully . . . all over her body . . . especially those places where she is feeling the most excitement . . ."

"You mean . . ."

"Yes, there."

"So he would kiss me . . . there?"

"If he was a man who knew women well . . . What they wanted. And what they loved to feel. Yes, he would kiss her there. Softly at first."

Maera suddenly stood up—as if out of an urgent reaction to some invisible stimulation.

"Do you think we can walk for a while, Doc? I think it's better that we do."

He smiled, understanding far more perceptively than she knew—that the physical enlightenment he had provided her was unexpectedly palpable. And immediate.

Doc finished his beer and left five euros on the table. He then understandingly stood up too and took her hand. The two walked in the direction of the busier section of the town. Hopefully, and as a much-needed diversion for Maera, it would be within the proximity of a women's summer apparel shop.

* * *