Woman with violin markings on her back I had relaxed - a little - under Kayanne's passionate embrace. I was just getting to the point where I felt I could reciprocate to her exploring fingers when a shadow fell over us. Feeling somewhat disappointed and just a little put out, I disengaged myself from Kayanne's arms and sat up, shading my eyes with my hand.

It was Linzee, another friend of ours - or at least another friend of Kayanne's - who I knew only slightly. She was a petite blonde woman who wore a wide sunhat and nothing else on the beach. She had a heart-shaped face and a delectable body with a tight waist and the kind of curves that, seen from the rear, would have made the ancients want to decorate her back with violin-shaped markings.

I had been introduced to Linzee at one of the frequent gatherings and parties that were a feature of life here. We had chatted over a drink. I had told her something of the reasons why I had elected to throw in my lot here in Lesbos Paradiso and she had waxed lyrical about some of the more exotic places and practices in the habitat - some of which were real eye-openers - and had shamelessly encouraged me to try them out at the earliest opportunity.

Our conversation had been interrupted and Lindzee had wandered off to talk to others, as is the way of parties, but I had felt her hot eyes on me, following me, for the rest of the evening. I later learned that Linzee was one of these women who like to attach herself to an already established couple; it seemed that she had fixed her attentions on Kayanne and me.

"Hi, Kayanne," Linzee said perkily, adding, "And Soolin, isn't it?"

She was feigning a forgetfulness I was sure she did not really have. I nodded warily.

"We're having an after-beach party," she breezed on, "A sun-downer. Up at the Old Veranda. You're invited. Please come." Kayanne smiled widely.

"A party? Yes, why not?" she answered, then she turned to me, "We'd love to, wouldn't we, Soolin?"

I was not entirely sure about this idea, but I did not want to appear a party-pooper or disappoint Kayanne. I put on my best happy smile.

"We'll be there," I confirmed, adding as sincerely as I could, "Looking forward to it."

"Great!" Linzee said, bouncing on her toes and spinning around girlishly. She set off across the beach, presumably looking for other victims for her party. She really did have the most gorgeous body; it was one I would rather like to see more of.


Lesbos Paradiso was a commune: there was no individual ownership of anything and everybody was expected to share everything. Not that anybody actually had anything very much of their own. Almost everyone who emigrated here had to invest their entire net work in the transportation - the habitat was light-years distant from old Earth - and the energy costs to accelerate and decelerate a ship over that interstellar course were astronomical.

There was not much use for money here, in any case. All of the essentials and very nearly all luxuries were always available for free, just for the taking. Lesbos Paradiso might be made up to look like a rural idyll, but that was because the automation that ran everything was extremely well-hidden.

On old Earth, I would have said that the sun was going down. That didn't really happen here, although the habitat's environmental machines did their convincing best to make it appears so.

"Time for a shower," Kayanne announced.

I agreed. The combination of sun and sand had made me just a little stickly, and I certainly wanted the re-assurance which comes from looking and feeling my best at this party. I stood up, collecting my towel and the parasol ready to deposit them in the recycling bin at the edge of the beach. Kayanne took my free hand in a gesture which was at once both reassuring and laden with promise, and together with walked up the sandy beach to the boardwalk and the line of low buildings behind.

One of the buildings was a public baths - not that there was really any other kind here - and we made our way through the chattering and gossiping groups to an unoccupied shower stall, collecting shampoo and soap and towels on the way. Kayanne tugged me inside and closed the curtain behind us.

"You seem tense," she said with a giggle in her voice, "Let me help you with that."

With the water running down the walls of the shower and over my hair and breasts, Kayanne knelt on the floor of the cubicle and pressed her tongue against my clit. As always, her touch was electric; it was not long before my anxiety was borne away on the tide of a throbbing, screaming orgasm.

Part 2 Part 4