Priestess Fiona knelt on the bed and thrust her fingers deep into the two girls’ privates.

Her lovers lay on their backs convulsing and moaning as they clutched at the bedsheets. Their long silky hair was splayed out over the bed as their voices echoed off the walls.

The priestess gazed at their lean, supple bodies, their tender breasts. Only the smallest tufts of hair sprouted above their vaginas. Warms fluids seeped over her fingers while they writhed helplessly.

They panted and shouted the priestess’ name over and over.

The girl on her left was Mirelle, a young woman with a porcelain complexion and wavy red hair. She thrust her large breasts up at the canopy, her pink nipples engorged as she cried out in ecstasy.

On her right was Diane, a pretty brunette with small tits and fair skin. Her eyes were clamped shut with the bedsheets balled up in her fist while she mewed.

Neither girl was older than seventeen summers.

With a final shout and spasm, their fluids sprang like a fountain from between their legs. Both girls shuddered as a smile stretched across their lips. They turned and kissed one another passionately, their tongues thrusting into each other’s mouths.

Fiona reached forward and let them lick their fluids from her fingers.

Then they sat up and took turns kissing her lips, cheeks, and neck.

The priestess purred and brushed her long brown hair over her shoulders.

Instantly, the two girls buried their faces in her large pale bosoms, their mouths latching onto her hard nipples.

She bit her lip with closed eyes as an electric tingling sensation washed over her. In seconds, her breasts were coated in warm saliva. Fiona smiled.

Without warning, Mirelle pushed her to her back and the young girls kissed their way down her naked body.

The priestess spread her legs and two tongues lathered her privates. She inhaled sharply, her chest heaving as fluids seeped out onto the bed. She grasped the blanket underneath her until she felt each girl’s fingers brush against her knuckles. Their hands interlocked and the priestess moaned loudly. Waves of pleasure rolled over her body like sunshine. She panted and purred, eyes clamped shut, arrested by the wet, silky tongues gliding over her pussy. A breeze blew through the room and cooled her sweaty bosoms. Unbidden, a shout of ecstasy burst from her throat. She felt their breath against her skin as they giggled. Fiona barely had enough air to share in their laughter. All she could do was lay there writhing and thrusting her hips while she clutched their hands. Her climax exploded like a thunderclap. She arched her back and cried out at the top of her lungs. Tremors rolled through her body as Mirelle and Diane licked her fluids and kissed the inside of her thighs.

But as she came down, a vision seized her.

She saw a galleon sailing toward their aisle as the sun sank below the horizon. Standing on the deck was a man and a woman in black robes with golden trim. Hoods rippled around their faces, and a thick leather tome was under the man’s arm. Both figures stood on the deck and stared at their lush island home with a frown.

“Priestess, is something wrong?” Diane asked.

Fiona blinked and found herself in the bed again.

The two girls knelt on either side of her, their eyes full of concern. They had kissed and caressed her for several moments and she had not responded.

The priestess smiled and said, “Of course not.”

She sat up and kissed both girls on the lips.

They made love for another hour or so until both girls collapsed on her bed and fell into a deep slumber.

Fiona lay there, her limbs entangled with theirs, as she stared at the canopy. What had her vision meant? When was this bound to happen? A cold weight sank in her stomach as she replayed the vision again and again in her mind.

She waited until Diane and Mirelle woke up. They watched the sun descending over the waters as a cool breeze swirled through the room.

“May we bathe with you, Priestess?” Mirelle asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I would love to darling. But I’m afraid I have an important matter to attend to.”

“All right. Thank you for sharing your bed with us,” Diane replied.

“You’re most welcome.”

They all rose from the bed and kissed goodbye.

Then both girls left.

Fiona filled a basin with cool water and rinsed her body. Once she had dried herself, she wrapped a white sarong around her generous hips and ventured into the temple grounds. She walked through a maze of corridors with muffled shouts of pleasure floating into her ears. A few minutes later, she emerged in a verdant garden where disciples danced to the sound of flutes and harps.

They capered among the trees dressed in little more than sarongs or loincloths. Their nude bodies glowing with the dying rays of the sun as they leaped and whirled about.

She weaved around them and crossed an empty courtyard. After climbing several flights of stairs, she arrived at the door of the high priestess’ private chambers. Fiona rapped on the door gently.

A few seconds later, a naked manservant answered. His lean muscles glistened with sweat and his penis was half-erect. He smiled at her.

“I’m here to speak with the high priestess,” said Fiona.

“This way, please.”

She followed the young man into a room covered with ornate rugs, wide cushions, and low tables. Tapestries adorned the walls and small potted plants wavered in the breeze. They went through a short hallway and entered the bedroom of the high priestess.

Orange sunlight spilled from the balcony. A soft bed with intricate bedposts was set against the far wall next to a bookshelf filled with books and scrolls. Various crystals sparkled in niches around the room and a wide desk with a globe sat in the far corner. A mural of the goddess Tantra surrounded by nude figures stretched along all four walls. Before the bed was a brazier with kindling at the bottom.

The high priestess herself paced before the open balcony, a large tome in her arms. She was naked except for a pink shawl fluttering around her shoulders. Her dark red hair was twined into braids and pulled away from her face. Her ivory skin was tinged with gold.

Fiona’s eyes lingered on the curve of her backside.

High Priestess Carice looked up with bluish gray eyes.

“Priestess Fiona has come to speak with you,” said the servant with a bow.

“Thank you, James.”

The servant left and closed the door.

Carice closed the book and the women kissed each other on both cheeks.

“What brings you to my chamber, sister?”

Fiona paused for a moment before answering. “I am troubled, high priestess.”

“About what?”

“I received a vision while making love to my companions. I’m not really sure what to make of it, but I can’t ignore this dreadful feeling that something bad is about to happen.”

“Oh dear,” the high priestess replied. She placed the book on the table and lit a fire in the brazier. “Let me see exactly what you saw.”

Carice stood behind Fiona and caressed her shoulders. She brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.

The priestess closed her eyes and purred.

A hand squeezed her breast while another slipped underneath her sarong.

Fiona trembled at Carice’s touch. She turned her head and their mouths locked together while intense sensation radiated from between her legs. Fervently, she pressed the other woman’s hand deeper against her privates and within seconds she spasmed in her embrace.

The high priestess approached the brazier and let a drop of her cum fall into the flames. With her hands spread wide, she uttered an incantation and the fire turned from red to purple.

Fiona watched intently as the tongues of flame roared.

Smoke rose in a dense cloud and hovered above Carice’s head.

Her vision played out in the billowing fumes. When it concluded, the smoke dissipated.

The high priestess tapped a finger to her lips. “Hmmm…the ship was approached with the sunset at the stern. Which means it was coming from the west.”

Carice went to her desk and spun the globe until she found their isle in a vast ocean. “The ship was coming from the nation of Edrary.”

Her finger was planted on a large peninsula leagues and leagues from their tropical home.

“And what about the figures in black robes?”

“They are missionaries from the Order of Petron, their god of justice and purity,” Carice replied. “They’ve come to our shores several times before trying to convert us. So far, none have succeeded.”

“But something felt very … threatening about them. The man especially.”

The high priestess nodded. “I agree. Something is different this time. The goddess wouldn’t see fit to grant you this vision if it was of no consequence. When do you think this will come to pass?”

“I’ve never been able to see further than three days into the future,” Fiona replied.

“I see. I will alert the warriors to watch our shores more closely.”

“Thank you.”

Carice gave her a smile. “If there’s nothing else, would you care to lay with me?”

“Yes, High Priestess.”

The other woman smiled and pulled her into a long, breathless kiss.

When she awoke the next morning, a shaft of gentle sunlight stretched across the floor. Fiona lay in the high priestess’ bed and inhaled her perfume.

Carice’s arms and legs were still entangled with hers. Her cheek rested against her bosom and her thigh lay across her hips.

She wanted to stay there forever, drunk on the feel of her silky skin. But she had to attend to her duties. Fiona sighed and reluctantly extracted herself from the other woman.

Carice’s eyes fluttered open. “Leaving so soon?”

The priestess swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked over her shoulder. “I wish I could stay. But I have my duties.”

“I understand. You’re a wonderful lover.”

“And you as well. I will think of you the next time I pleasure myself,” Fiona replied.

Carice smiled. “Come back any time.”

“I will. Thank you for sharing your bed with me High Priestess.”

They kissed each other on the lips and Fiona left.

She strolled back to her quarters as the gentle wind caressed her naked body. The sweet scent of the Eros blossom wafted into her nose. Even as she descended the steps, she was overtaken by an impulse to run back to Carice and make love to her again. She paused on the staircase and looked back to her chambers. After a long moment, Fiona continued on her way.

In the courtyard below, naked disciples swept the grounds and tended to the garden. They greeted her with a smile as she passed she exchanged quick pleasantries with them. She was about to enter the corridor which led to her quarters when she saw two pairs of feet extending from behind a bush. Fiona entered the garden in the far corner of the courtyard and found a young boy and girl making love on the ground.

The boy thrust his hips at the girl beneath him while his hands cupped her shoulders and pulled her close. Their stifled moans were barely audible.

The priestess crossed her arms.

A second later, the girl opened her eyes and saw Fiona standing there. She gasped.

The boy paused and looked behind him. When he realized they had been caught, he recoiled from the girl and his cheeks turned bright red. His cock was stiff and dripping with cum.

“You’d better get back to your chores before I report you to Priestess Naomi.”

The two young disciples jumped to their feet and bowed. “Yes, Priestess.”

Then they scurried away.

Fiona went to her room and read a few verses of scripture. Then she sat on the balcony and massaged her privates for long minutes. She moaned in the sunlight while her fingers produced delightful sensations. In her mind, they weren’t her fingers, but Carice’s. Memories of everything they had done the previous night flooded her thoughts. She remembered the smell of her hair and the feel of the other woman’s tongue licking her breasts. She relished the sounds Carice made and the feel of their bodies pressed together. Hot jets of fluid sprayed from between her legs, and she spasmed with a loud cry. The priestess panted, and her body went limp.

She was grateful she didn’t get another vision.

Fiona went back into her room and bathed in a small tub. When she left that morning, her long brown hair was twined in a braid and a translucent white shawl clung to her dainty shoulders. Aside from a seashell necklace, she wore nothing else. Freckles dotted her cheeks and chest right above her tender, pale breasts. A dense tuft of hair covered her privates in-between her curvy hips. Her legs and arms were smooth and she smelled of strawberries.

She sat in the dining hall and ate breakfast with her fellow priests and priestess, all of whom were equally nude. When the meal was done, they dispersed to carry out their duties. Some went to teach the disciples, while others, like Fiona, ventured into the city. She baptized several infants in the name of the goddess and brought offerings of fruit and meat to various shrines. Kneeling before a statue of the goddess she made supplications for the people and the temple. In the afternoon, she blessed the home of a newlywed couple while they had ritualized sex in every room. For the last bout of lovemaking, Fiona joined them. When the husband and wife lay on a pile of cushions smiling and satisfied, the priestess politely took her leave. When evening fell, she returned to the temple grounds and taught poetry to a small group of disciples.

They sat cross-legged at low writing desks and wrote verses in iambic pentameter while the sun descended over the ocean.

Fiona walked among her students and peeked over their shoulders while they worked. Sometimes she answered questions. Sometimes she just caught a quick preview of their finished poems. When everybody was done, they read their verses out loud to the applause of their peers. Feedback was exchanged and Fiona gathered their assignments for review.

The students dispersed for supper.

But one girl lingered in the courtyard. Her body was slender, her skin a dark chocolate brown. A mane of black hair barely reached her shoulders and her breasts were small but perky.

The priestess was about to leave the courtyard when she noticed the girl looking at her. “Alana, can I help you?”

Perhaps it was her imagination, but was the girl blushing?

“The other disciples have told me that you prefer the company of girls. Is this true?”

Fiona smiled. “Come with me.”

Alana returned her smile and followed her to her quarters.

When they woke up together the next morning Alana didn’t leave immediately. She nestled her cheek against Fiona’s chest and purred in their shared warmth.

The priestess gave her an affectionate squeeze and kissed her on the forehead. She watched the waves roll in and out over the sand while couples made love on the beach.

“I wish I could stay here with you all day,” said the girl.

Fiona laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“Boys never touch me the way you touch me. They don’t kiss me the way you do.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Am I the first woman you’ve made love to?”

“Yes, Priestess.”

“What made you ask me specifically? There are many priestesses here, and even more women in the city.”

Alana chuckled and paused. “I’ve been very curious about girls lately and … I’ve always found you quite beautiful. I wanted to know the warmth of your lips, the feel of your skin against mine.”

Fiona grinned and the two of them made out for long minutes, their mouths and bosoms pressed together.

“Thank you for sharing your bed with me, Priestess.”

“You’re most welcome.”

They kissed one more time before Alana rose from the bed to leave.

But as soon as she opened the door, she halted in her tracks. “High Priestess!”

Fiona sat up and looked to see Carice standing in the doorway.

The girl bowed and took her leave.

She stood up and they kissed each other on both cheeks.

“How may I serve you, High Priestess?”

“I have come to tell you that the missionaries in your vision arrived last night. According to my informants, they have set up camp just outside the city.”

A cold weight dropped in Fiona’s stomach. “Have they begun preaching yet?”

“No. They will likely start today. I apologize for the late notice, sister. I would have told you sooner, but I saw you enter your quarters with Alana and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“No apology needed, High Priestess. I would rather find out now than later,” Fiona replied.

“My warriors will watch them closely for the duration of their stay. If they do anything untoward I will know about it.”

“Thank you, High Priestess.”

“May I pleasure you before the day begins?”

“You may.”

Fiona sat on the bed and spread her legs. She tilted her head back and moaned when Carice’s tongue glided over her genitals.

After she reciprocated, the two women bathed together and went to breakfast. It was later in the day when Priestess Fiona caught her first glimpse of the missionaries. She had just finished wedding two young ladies to each other and was on her way to a baptism when she heard an uproar at the market. Fiona looked down the street and saw a crowd of shouting villagers.

In the very center, were the two figures from her vision dressed in black robes. They pulled Mirelle and Diane away from each other even as they struggled.

The villagers waved their fists and yelled obscenities at the missionaries.

Fiona’s brow crinkled as she jogged toward the commotion. She only took a few strides before three armored women with spears burst through the crowd.

They surrounded the missionaries with their spears pointed at them.

“Unhand the girls, now!” one of them demanded.

The man swallowed and exchanged a brief look with his female counterpart.

Commoners jeered at them.

“Release them!” the soldier repeated.

The missionaries glanced at the spearheads and complied.

Diane stalked past the soldiers and joined the crowd with her arms crossed.

Mirelle whirled around and punched the man in the face.

He groaned and staggered backward, clutching at his nose.

Not a moment later, the warriors grabbed the missionaries by the arm and dragged them away.

A trail of insults echoed behind the missionaries as they were escorted out of the city.

The red-haired girl stared after them with knuckles planted on her hips.

“Mirelle, what in the name of Tantra happened here?” Fiona asked.

Diane joined them as the other girl answered.

“We were in the fountain pleasuring each other when those two imbeciles pulled us apart. They said sex should only occur between a husband and his wife and only in private.”

“I know you know this is nonsense,” the priestess replied.

“Indeed!”

“Do not trouble yourselves, girls. They will not be allowed in the city any longer. May I pray with you?”

Diane smiled. “Yes, Priestess.”

They joined hands and bowed heads.

“Almighty Goddess Tantra, I thank you that these two beautiful young girls are walking steadfastly in your light. May they know the ecstasy of your communion all their days. Amin.”

“Amin,” both girls echoed.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, girls,” said Fiona.

“Thank you, Priestess,” they replied.

Both girls kissed her on the lips and walked away hand in hand.

She watched their hips swaying as water droplets sparkled on their naked bodies. A memory of their last afternoon together flashed through her mind, and her nipples hardened.

They tingled as the warm breeze brushed her chest.

But she had a baptism to attend, and she was already running late.

Fiona turned away from the market and continued her business.

Later that afternoon, the two missionaries returned to their camp in the jungle. Zakarias paced before his tent while his counterpart, Miranda, sat on a fallen tree trunk reading scripture. The sweet scent of some flower he could not name wafted into his nostrils and he stole a furtive glance at Miranda’s demure face. Her skin was like copper and dark wavy tresses peeked out of her hood. He had no idea why he had not noticed the curves of her slender figure until now.

Bright pink petals lay on the ground at his feet.

Zakarias stomped on his lustful thoughts instantly. What was wrong with him?

The two missionaries were alone for now.

The captain and all his crewmen had stripped naked and ventured into the city hours ago.

He had little doubt what they were doing.

“I can’t believe it! All the tales about these natives are true. They roam the streets nude and fuck each other like wild animals,” he fumed.

Miranda gave him a hard stare over her book. “Language!”

“Apologies.”

“Our approach with those girls was much too aggressive. We need to be more tactful with the natives if we want to guide any of them to the light,” said she.

“Fat chance of that happening. I think I’m beginning to see why we were the only two who volunteered to come here.”

“Be patient Zakarias, as Our Lord, Petron is patient with you.”

He stopped pacing and breathed deeply. God, Miranda was beautiful.

His genitals swelled against his undergarments.

The missionary tore his eyes away from her. “You are right. Thank you, Miranda.”

She grinned at him and went back to her reading.

Zakarias looked through the foliage at the walled city in the distance.

Golden orange sunlight lacquered the stone façade with fiery hues. A cluster of white-washed buildings with varicolored domes rose up into the sky. Winding streets wove through the city of heathens and verdant courtyards adorned the landscape.

“We’ll have to use magic to get into the city again,” he said.

“Zakarias, you know Petron forbids the underhanded use of our powers.”

“We are doing this in service to him. How can he fault us for that?”

Miranda sighed. “I suppose we can’t persuade them from here.”

“Exactly.”

“What is your plan?”

“Let’s wait for the natives to cool down a bit. Tomorrow morning, we’ll cloak ourselves and walk through the wall. When we’re ready to speak, then we’ll sever the spell. Until then, we should rehearse our message and pray.”

For the remainder of the evening, Zakarias kept his nose buried in scripture. He sat in the shade of his tent and envisioned himself preaching to the naked heathens. Anything to avoid looking at Miranda. but even as he studied, he found himself stealing sidelong glances at her.

Had she noticed?

He didn’t think so.

Fool! Even if she doesn’t see it, Petron does. He silently asked for forgiveness and resumed his study. His message was almost fully composed when Miranda closed her book and rose to her feet.

“I will bathe by the waterfall and return shortly,” she said.

Zakarias nodded his acknowledgement and returned to his study.

Her footsteps grew faint and the leaves rustled as she ventured into the jungle.

It was only a moment before a vision of a naked Miranda cut into his thoughts. He pictured the water cascading over her tender breasts and down her shapely legs, how her dark hair would be plastered to her head.

What is wrong with me?

The missionary closed his eyes and breathed.

The waterfall is only minutes from here.

No!

The foliage is dense. I could watch her without being seen.

No, no, no. I came here to convert sinners, but become one myself.

But the waters beckoned to him.

He peered out of his tent in the direction Miranda had gone.

I have a message to finish.

Zakarias was vaguely disappointed when she returned later fully clothed.

As the sky darkened, he found himself standing beneath that same waterfall stroking his cock minutes before he convulsed under the chilling water. After he prayed desperately for absolution, he returned to the camp where Miranda was roasting a pan full of vegetables over a fire.

They ate and spoke little.

When they finished their supper, they prepared magical spells for the next day.

Miranda unfurled a parchment scroll and used a brush to trace a column of archaic characters. At the appointed time, she would speak a magical word and the characters would bend the light around them to conceal them from view.

Similarly, the scroll Zakarias prepared would dissolve a portion of the wall so they could walk right through it.

When all was ready, the two missionaries doused the fire and retired for the night.

Zakarias held Miranda beneath the cool cascading waters. Her supple breasts were pressed against him while he showered her neck and shoulders with kisses. He enfolded her in his arms while she moaned and purred. When their mouths locked together everything else evaporated. All that mattered was her body entwined with his, her tongue wrestling with his.

The missionary’s eyes snapped open.

He lay alone in his tent, his stiff member poking through his undergarments.

It had only been a dream.

Zakarias sat up in his cot and mumbled, “Lord, forgive me.”

For long minutes, he sat there breathing deeply while that peculiar fragrance wafted into his nose.

That scent seemed to be everywhere on the island.

Not for the first time, Zakarias wondered what it was.

A sliver of sunlight cut through the shadows of his tent.

When he had calmed himself, he emerged from his tent and started preparing breakfast.

A short time later, Miranda came out of her tent and they ate together.

After they had finished their meal, the missionaries retrieved the magical scrolls they had prepared the previous night.

Miranda unfurled the Invisibility scroll and spoke the magical words to activate it.

The characters shimmered with a golden light, and the missionaries vanished from sight.

Now cloaked from view, they approached the city walls as the armed guards kept their eyes fixed on the horizon.

Standing only inches from the white-washed stone, Zakarias took the other scroll from his belt and whispered the magical word. Ripples expanded through the wall and Zakarias outstretched his hand.

His fingers were swallowed by the façade.

They nodded to one another and stepped through the wall.

A maze of narrow winding streets led them through the city where they passed nude children playing outside, mothers breastfeeding their infants, and people fornicating in the alleys and gardens.

Faint moans echoed everywhere.

Zakarias forced himself to meditate on scripture while he stayed within range of Miranda’s Invisibility spell. But even as he silently recited verses to himself, he felt a string tugging him to a couple making love beneath a tree. He averted his eyes while the man sucked on the woman’s nipples.

His hand brushed against Miranda’s.

Since when was her skin so silky?

Zakarias crushed the thought as soon as it arose.

Bright pink petals littered the street and a sweet perfume lingered in the air.

Eventually, they arrived in the market, where storefronts had opened and merchants had set up their booths. People trickled out of their homes dressed in little more than shawls and sarongs. They greeted one another with kisses and casual touches in intimate areas.

They stood in the center of the square unseen.

Then Miranda spoke another word and they became plainly visible.

Villagers halted in their tracks.

Muttering spread throughout the market.

All eyes were fixed on them.

Zakarias took a deep breath and began his message. He told them of the Lord God Petron and how he created the body for purity and chastity. He reprimanded the natives for their lecherous behavior and warned them of impending wrath unless they repented.

The villagers only laughed and shouted obscene comments.

Despite the ridicule, he pressed on with his message, citing one verse after another, desperate to persuade even one heart.

But they all turned away in the end.

They didn’t receive Miranda’s words any better.

After they had given up on the market, they moved onto a nearby park where teenagers made love by the ponds and bushes.

Her message was drowned out by their screams of passion. The bits of her message they did hear were simply ignored. A few walked by and gyrated their hips to the amusement of their friends.

Zakarias frowned at them.

The whole day passed much like this.

When evening fell, the two missionaries returned to their camp defeated.

Zakarias paced back and forth under the canopy ruminating over the day. “There has to be another way to get through to them.”

“All we need is a revelation. Then maybe we can save a few,” said his counterpart.

She lit a fire and began roasting their supper.

“I don’t know what more I could say to them, honestly.”

“‘Do not be discouraged. Trust me, and I will make a way for you,’” Miranda quoted.

Zakarias smiled at her.

Their eyes locked for a moment, a warm spark glimmering between them.

Her dark tresses wavered in the breeze, brushing her cheek.

She looked down and sprinkled spices on their food.

Zakarias noticed more pink petals on the ground. He stooped and picked one up. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled the scent deeply. As soon as he did, blood rushed to his groin and his member became engorged. (Luckily, his robe was loose-fitting.) He had seen this flower all over the island and smelled its perfume everywhere. Villagers made love in gardens full of these flowers.

“Miranda! Smell this.”

She took the petal from him and her fingertips were so warm and supple.

Her touch made him melt inside.

His counterpart breathed in the perfume.

“This is the source of their sin, we have to—”

But he didn’t get the chance to finish the thought because Miranda had leaped on him and covered his mouth with hers.

They kissed passionately just like in his dream.

Her body pressed against his and they tugged at each other’s clothing.

Zakarias’ heart raced as he once again envisioned her naked. He wanted to explore every contour of her body, feel every inch of her smooth skin.

Miranda recoiled with a gasp and pushed him away. She sat on the tree trunk and panted, her eyes wide open. “This flower keeps them bound in lust.”

Zakarias nodded. “We must burn the trees where these flowers bloom. Then we can guide the natives to the light.”

Steam rose from the waters of the immense pool amid the gentle moaning of lovers entwined. Clusters of two, three, and four people waded into the waters kissing and caressing one another. Still more drifted into the saunas or the lounges.

Pink petals littered the floor, the sweet perfume of the Eros blossom suffusing the air.

Shafts of moonlight spilled through the windows and the golden braziers roared with flames.

In every direction, priests and priestesses mingled with disciples as wine flowed freely. A sea of bodies heaved like the tide anticipating the flash of lightning or the crack of thunder.

Fiona wished Mirelle and Diane were here, but commoners were not permitted in the bathhouse tonight. Tonight marked the beginning of spring when they communed with the goddess in themselves when they touched the divine. It was a festival set aside for the servants of Tantra to gain a stronger connection with their goddess.

She stood next to a pillar and sipped her goblet of wine.

In the water, were three female disciples sharing an open-mouthed kiss. They leaned toward one another, with eyes closed, their tongues fencing.

Fiona touched her privates.

“I hear you and the high priestess have been spending a lot of time together,” said a voice to her left.

She turned and saw Priestess Jana smiling at her. Aside from a translucent white shawl clinging to her shoulders, she wore nothing at all. Golden hair spilled from her head and nearly covered her ample breasts. Her nipples were a soft pink and a thin tuft of hair sprouted above her vagina. Jana’s generous hips drew the gaze of many passersby.

Fiona grinned at her and kept pleasuring herself. “Jealous, are you?”

“A little bit.”

“So, why did you visit her private chambers the other day?”

“Ever the nosey one! If you must know, I received a vision. About the missionaries,” she said before taking another sip of wine.

Jana’s eyes widened. “I wonder why the goddess would warn you about them?”

“I don’t want to think about those two honestly.”

“And what would you rather think about?” the other woman asked.

“How my fingers would feel inside you.”

Jana smiled and pulled her into a deep, suffocating kiss.

She placed her goblet on a table and squeeze her backside.

Their bosoms were pressed together as they embraced. When they finally broke their kiss, Fiona barely had a second to breathe before their mouths locked together again.

Jana’s tongue penetrated her lips and she sucked on it eagerly.

Then Fiona turned, pressed Jana’s back to the pillar, and massaged her privates.

The other woman tilted her head back and bit her lip as she purred.

Warm fluids trickled over her fingers while she worked her magic.

In seconds, she kissed her way down Jana’s breasts where she sucked on her hard nipples. Fiona relished every sound she made, every labored breath she took.

The other priestess thrust her hips forward while she slid her fingers deep into her pussy. Her moaning joined a chorus of ecstasy which swelled to the vaulted ceiling. Tremor seized her body and she shouted at the top of her lungs. Hot fluids sprayed from between her legs and Fiona lapped it up.

Jana leaned against the pillar and convulsed while her fingertips brushed Fiona’s cheeks.

She stood up and let her taste herself on her lips. Before she knew it, Fiona was the one pressed against the pillar as Jana sank to her knees.

Her warm tongue felt like heaven between her legs.

She pressed Jana’s hands to her breasts while she watched the other woman and girls pleasure one another. Her chest heaved. She mewed and panted. Electric sensations assaulted her nipples and clit. Fiona trembled helplessly.

Jana’s emerald eyes smoldered like the flames in the brazier.

Her breasts yielded to the pressure of her fingers.

Minutes later, she moaned and spasmed repeatedly.

The bathhouse vanished.

All became silent.

She found herself standing in the garden, the Eros blossom trees surrounding her.

Flames climbed up the tree trunks and devoured the foliage.

Smoke billowed into the night sky.

Two figures in black robes fled the scene.

“Fiona? Fiona! What’s the matter?” Jana asked.

The priestess gasped and the bathhouse and everyone in it returned. She looked at the other woman even as she convulsed with the aftershock of her climax. “The garden is in danger. It’s the missionaries!”

Without waiting for a reply, Fiona dashed out of the bathhouse.

When she emerged on the street, Jana trailed behind. She explained everything to her as they leaped onto a horse. Fiona jabbed her heels into its sides and the stallion galloped away in an instant. She clutched the reins as the cool wind blew through her hair.

Jana’s arms wrapped around her waist.

The pounding of the horse’s hooves echoed in the street as villagers leaped out of their way.

Her breasts bounced with the horse’s every stride.

Buildings, gardens, and parks flew out of her peripheral vision. In mere minutes they arrived at the temple where the two priestesses dismounted and bolted for the garden.

Fiona ran through a maze of dark streets lit only by torches and moonlight. Her heart hammered as the airbrushed her nude body.

When they arrived in the garden, the shadows of the trees stretched long in the flickering firelight.

She panted and saw two figures in black robes, one of them—a man—holding a torch.

“Stop!” she yelled.

Both missionaries whirled around and saw the two priestesses. The man and woman wore scarves over their nose and mouth.

“You don’t want to do this,” said Fiona.

“I’m afraid I do,” Zakarias replied. He stood there poised to throw the torch on the ground, but he was frozen.

“And yet you hesitate.”

Jana stepped forward. “Do you find us attractive?”

Silence hung in the garden.

Only a gentle breeze whispered in the canopy.

The priestesses stalked towards them.

“Stay back!” Zakarias said as he pointed the torch at Fiona.

She smiled and moved it aside. “No need for violence. Take off your mask and let’s reason with one another.”

Fiona reached for his face, but he jerked his head back.

Jana pulled Miranda’s mask down and brushed her cheek with her fingertip.

The woman sighed at her touch.

Zakarias yanked Miranda away.

“Do you really think you can fight the effect of the Eros blossom? You’ve felt its power since you first landed on our shores.”

“I will burn your wicked flower and free your people of their sin,” the missionary replied.

“Then do it.”

Zakarias stood there and glowered at her.

“Why resign yourself to a life of celibacy when you can worship Tantra and enjoy all the pleasure you want?” Jana said.

“Our way is the true path,” Miranda stammered.

Jana circled her like a panther, her shawl quivering in the breeze. She touched Miranda’s shoulders and caressed her arms.

The missionary didn’t resist.

She softly embraced her from behind and kissed her cheek.

Miranda closed her eyes and sighed. Then she spun around and began to passionately make out with her. Her hands glided up and down Jana’s back, clutched her buttocks.

The two of them moaned and purred.

Zakarias watched wide-eyed.

Fiona laughed softly and plucked the torch from his grasp. She placed it on the stand and pulled him into her embrace.

The next morning, all four of them awoke in Fiona’s bed. Miranda lay on top of her, her cheek resting on her bosom. Zakarias lay entangled with Jana on the other side.

The missionaries’ black robes and undergarments were discarded on the floor.

Waves lapped against the beach as the sun rose.

Fiona kissed Miranda on the head and exchanged a fond look with Jana.

The copper-skinned woman looked up and smiled. “Thank you for sharing your bed with us, Priestess.”

*

Later that morning, Zakarias and Miranda stood on the shore, their black robes draped over their arms. The sun and the wind felt so good touching his whole body and not just his face.

Cool water flowed around his bare feet.

“We can never go back. If we do, we’ll be shamed and ridiculed for our sins on this island,” he said.

Miranda chuckled. “Why should we ever go back? We have everything we could ever want—food, sunlight, pleasure—all right here.”

Zakarias smiled.

Then they threw their robes into the water and made love on the shore.