One

Very few people have heard of the small island off the California coast, some twenty miles beyond U.S. Government authority, where the Castle of Eros was constructed to house a cult devoted to the practice of total sexual freedom. Members of the Cult of Eros were carefully picked and kept its secrets. To the rest of the world it simply didn't exist.

I approached the island called Eros by motor, captained by a young bikini-clad girl in her early twenties, named Michael Corning, Mic or Mike, to all her friends.

She had been a friend of my sister's, but she didn't know my true identity at the time. I was going by the name of William Johnson, which was merely a reversal of my real name: John Williamson.

I figured it would be possible to "pick her brains" while getting to the island. But I hadn't taken into account the very nature of the Pagan Cult she belonged to. I didn't, at that point, fully understand what I was getting into. Soon I'd know; sooner than I had expected.

This young woman was one hell of a prime sampling of what would soon follow. More than I could have imagined.

Mic was a small, bouncy, freckle-faced college girl who looked no more than sixteen. She wore a white bikini, hardly more than two strips of cloth, that displayed her body almost to the point of nudity. Long red hair flowed freely in the breeze as the boat raced across the coastal waters of the blue Pacific.

The realization that before the week-end was over I would probably be making love to this delightful young woman created an automatic desire to do so, instantly. A man couldn't look at Mic, half naked as she was, without that kind of reaction.

We weren't more than a mile from land when Mic put the boat on full automatic and turned to me.

"Well, Billy, I must say you'll make an exciting addition to our membership." Her eyes flashed meaningfully along my body.

I found it totally impossible to ignore her thrusting breasts, whose nipples were just barely hidden behind the white cloth. It was a sight meant invite stares. She had a lovely narrow waist, a rounded stomach and flaring hips. Her legs were what one might call softly muscular, exciting.

"You're not bad yourself, Mic," I countered huskily, trying hard to appear casual about it.

"You like me?" Mic inquired, delighted, taking a sensual pose that thrust out her breasts and hips all at once. The boat wasn't too large, but big enough so that it was easy to consider the idea of a rather interesting party for two.

"Who wouldn't?" I offered, honestly.

"You know, Bill," she announced, starting to reach around to the back of her bikini top, "It's amazing how our little group keeps getting new members. You say that you knew a friend of Judy's?"

"In the Army," I told her, my voice becoming husky as I realized what she was about to do.

The bikini top slipped off large bouncy breasts, whose nipples were cherry pink. My throat went suddenly dry.

Judy, my sister, had written about the club she'd joined. I was stunned out of my wits by her last letters, which told exactly what kind of action it offered; it was one thing for a man to play loose sexual games, but a jolt to learn his kid sister was enjoying a swinging life-style on a pleasure island devoted to free wheeling sex.

Now, standing before me, breasts boldly naked to my gaze, was Judy's room-mate, the girl who had originally introduced her to the club.

"Judy was one of the best, an all around girl. She went in for all the kicks. I'll tell you one thing, there was no one more popular. It was terrible when she was ... killed. Nobody knows for sure who did it."

I fought down the emotional welling pain that cut at me. The first shock of hearing of Judy's death, only a couple of weeks before my discharge from the Army, was still like an open wound. I focus all my attention to Mic's naked breasts, as a pleasing distraction.

"You think they're nice?" Mic inquired, suddenly.

For a moment I didn't have the least idea what she was talking about. Then, when she laughed and placed hands under her breasts, I got the idea.

"About as nice as they come," I admired, moistening my dry lips. The blood was throbbing at my temples at the mere sight of those large mounds of flesh and their taut nipples.

Mic's green eyes took on a pleased, haunting glow. There was something of the pixie look about her. She had an up-swept freckled nose. Even her breasts had freckles on them.

"How much do you know about our club?" Mic inquired, sitting down beside me at the end of the boat.

"Well, from what I've learned about the Cult of Eros, it lives up to its name."

"In spades!" Her laugh was light, girlish. "What else?"

"Well, membership is, if I'm not wrong, a thousand dollars a year for outsiders, fifty a night or day, for casuals--and two hundred a month for the girls who live at the castle, five hundred for the men. Is that about right?"

Mic nodded. "You are well informed. You know about the rites?"

"Not too much," I lied.

"Well, you'll find out tonight. Val--she's the King's daughter--will do her dance of passion and no doubt take you on first. That is usually the routine. She's a real swinger. There isn't anything she won't do. I think you'll like her."

This boldly un-jealous statement jarred me. I tried hard to keep from eyeing Mic's luscious fleshy breasts, but they were too close to ignore. It would be so easy to just reach out and cover one with the palm of my hand.

She turned, looked up at me. "You'll learn all about Val, tonight. She likes it with both girls and boys. Doesn't really care which. She's been after me for some time--but I haven't decided to go that route as yet. The other day, do you know, she caught me in the living room--we were alone, and I was dressed something like this--and Val comes over and says, Dear, you have the best breasts in the group. Let me touch them. Just like that she says it. But that's Val for you. One gets used to it, so I teased her a little. I cupped my breasts like this," and her hands pressed them upwards so that the nipples were extended as if tempting a kiss. "She got so excited that before I could do anything she was kissing them. Darned if it didn't feel good! I'll admit that. But then ... they are erotically sensitive, of course. And in the dark, I suppose, one wouldn't know the dif."

Mic's eyes looked at me. "Damned if it doesn't excite me thinking about it. I don't want to go lez--but lips are lips. Don't you think that's so? If somebody knows how to kiss them, it probably doesn't make much difference, do you think?"

By now my own restraint was in a shambles. She was still holding her breasts in the same manner, the nipples pressed outwards, their points like little needles. Her eyes were eagerly inviting, questioning.

She looked up at the sky for a moment, then back to my body. "Aren't you a little hot, under all that clothing?"

In more ways than one, I realized.

"Why don't you undress? I'm not bashful, and you'd better learn to be a little more relaxed. You look like you're about to explode." She dropped her hands away from those lovely breasts. "I guess that does bother a man, doesn't it?"

"It was meant to, wasn't it, Mic?" I countered, starting to pull off my blue sweater, all the time looking into her eyes.

She laughed, brightly. "I guess so!"

I pulled off my t-shirt and Mic's eyes grew large. "You're sure well-built, Bill--built to the hilt--I would imagine." Her eyes fairly burned across my body.

"How much longer to the island?" I inquired starting to sit down next to her.

"Take off your pants, Bill--after all, you won't be any more naked than I am."

Her suggestion was startling, and for a moment I could hardly move because of the sudden surge of desire that flushed across me. There was no doubt that she wanted me to make love to her, right there on the boat.

"We have plenty of time," Mic announced. "And to be honest ... well, you know what kind of club we have, and there's no reason to let Val have all the firsties, is there? But, for God's sake, don't let out what's happened. Val would be furious."

Her boldness had become blunt.

"I know you want to kiss them," she said, touching the tips of each of her breasts. "Everybody does! I want you to."

I tried to tell myself that, fantastic as it might seem, Mic might have been the one who killed my sister. It could have been anybody on the island; all were suspect. And that's what I was going there to discover: my sister's murderer.

Stepping out of my slacks, I moved down next to Mic, who now cupped her breasts in open offering, pressing out the nipples for my lips to kiss.

It seemed quite natural, though highly wanton, for her to make this offer, I realized as my lips touched one of her breasts. We had met only an hour before--but considering the type of place Eros was, why shouldn't she start such games right off?

The taste of her flesh was salty from the ocean spray and when she suddenly released her hold on the breasts and grabbed my head in her hands, moving me back and forth from one nipple to the other, a blast of desire flushed away all thoughts about her being one of many murder suspects. There was little doubt in my mind that I would be in such situations with each woman on the island. And after several years in the Army, most of it spent at places where there were few women, the idea was less than undesireable.

"Do it some more," Mic murmured, directing my head across her breasts again. "I'll just slip out of these little old things while you continue."

I hesitated, started to move my hands to her hips, where the bikini bottom was located. She slapped my hands away.

"Naughty boy! For shame! What kind of girl do you think I am?" she teased in a very serious voice. Then laughingly added: "Let me get them off. I'm better at it. And I want your kisses to keep me excited." She giggled and wriggled while my lips feasted on her plump, young breasts. Then I felt her fingers work under the elastic of my underpants.

After that it was only a short time before she embraced me with willing arms.

"Now, Bill, let me know you completely. I'm really ready for all of you ... so make it good, big muscles." She clutched gently at me, her hips moved up to meet mine, and with amazing skill directed our forms together in the first gentle union. Her firm calves locked to mine in one fluid motion that only long practice could have perfected.

"Oh, Bill, this is going to be good. Just lie still, let the boat ... the boat will do it all." She kissed my neck, then her lips found mine and a small pointed tongue leaped in deep as she strained closer, her supple breasts cushioning against the muscles of my chest.

"You feel delicious," she murmured a moment later. "Just delicious."

Then movement that was not caused by the rocking of the boat started to surge through her body and I could feel the tension of passion taking control of her muscles. Sobs of delight started to break past her trembling, red lips.

"God of Lust, good, good, good." Her voice accented every movement her body made. Then as the pleasure rocketed skyward to the exploding point, she went rigid and trembled convulsively. After that I knew such great pleasure that it left me exhausted beyond movement.

Shortly afterwards, Mic urged me away from her. "You'd better get dressed, we're getting close to the island. And promise to say nothing about this to the others."

Suddenly I realized that my plans on questioning Mic about Judy had turned into a total failure. This was why I had contacted Mic. I had to find out who was responsible for my kid-sister's death and then see that justice was dealt out.

As I stood, Mic grabbed her bikini and started slipping into the panties.

I gathered up my clothing and looked out across the horizon. Straight ahead, less than a mile away, was the small point of an island, not much more than a large double rock formation, which I later learned had a tiny beach. Between the bold, rounded pillars of rock, I could see a Gothic-type tower--the castle of Eros.

"We have a real party planned for you tonight," she announced in an excited voice. "They will always do it up good for a new member. But you'll have to see the King first."