He lay inert for a moment while their erections subsided and then disengaged himself and rose. He wiped himself with a towel and pulled on his trunks and left without looking at the body on the floor. Not a word had been exchanged between them.

  Robbie returned to his deck chair, drained and shaken. He had left it barely five minutes earlier but his world was irrevocably altered. He had made a deep commitment to a forbidden side of him that he had refused to acknowledge until now. He could no longer pretend to himself that all he wanted was a complete expression of romantic friendship, including the affectionate fondling of bodies. With Theo and the twins, sex had been a celebration of physical well-being and fraternal love with no clear distinctions of gender, but something in him set him apart from them. Was it only that he wanted to put their cocks in his mouth? Johnny had made him feel that there was nothing unnatural about that. Girls apparently did it. He wasn’t a girl but lots of the boys at school had what were regarded as feminine tastes. Needle-point, for one. There was something else that he still hadn’t been able to grasp. The bathhouse had offered a frightening confrontation with all his darkest yearnings. He still shied away from the word, but he had engaged in an unequivocally homosexual act. He had wanted the officer to humiliate him and force him to acknowledge his abject enslavement to men.

  Homosexual. His mind could barely contain the word when applied to himself. Vile, corrupt, depraved, damned by all decent people. A pervert. What of Theo, glowing with wholesome masculinity, his eyes filled with untroubled tenderness? He seemed to be confronted with two different worlds between which he could find no bridge. He knew only that he must save himself from the shameless, perverse world he had glimpsed at St. Tropez.

  He wished he could talk to somebody who could explain what he was going through, somebody with experience who knew what it was like to love boys. Carl? Delos was getting closer every day.

  At Rhodes, he almost succumbed to temptation when a blatantly willing and spectacularly attractive young shopkeeper invited him to look at some special merchandise in his back room. Somehow his resolution held, possibly because the shopkeeper reminded him of the American on the Acropolis. He was beginning to recognize something in people to which the appalling word could be applied. The shopkeeper had been a homosexual. The pilot book indicated that the few stops that remained before Delos were small villages where he was unlikely to run into trouble.

  When they sailed into the deep natural harbor of Ios, the place looked uninhabited. One end of a house just visible at the edge of a fold in the surrounding hills was the only sign of humanity. They had encountered some heavy seas during the day and the sudden late-afternoon stillness was profoundly soothing. Stuart reported that the pilot book described a village on the hill. The bit of house they could see must be part of it. Robbie decided to row ashore and look around. He was nearing the beach when the silence was shattered by the roar of an engine. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a slim young man on a motorcycle hurtling toward him along the road that circled the harbor. When he climbed out of the dinghy and beached it, he saw that the man had stopped, sitting astride the machine with the engine running, watching him. Robbie’s interest quickened. At least there was somebody to talk to.

  He gave the dinghy a final tug and strolled across the beach toward the stranger. As he drew nearer, Robbie saw that he was about thirty, lean, and hard-looking. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. He was attractive and had no trace of the special something that Robbie was beginning to recognize.

  “You American?” the man called in greeting.

  “Sort of,” Robbie replied.

  “I seen you come in. I been watching if anybody come ashore.” Robbie stopped in front of him. Their eyes met. “You’re a helluva good-looking kid.”

  “Thanks.” His elders said that to him in a completely impersonal way. “You speak good English.”

  “Sure. I work on ships. I speak English, German, lotsa languages. I’m Yanni.”

  “My name’s Robbie.” He shook the calloused hand that was offered him. Yanni had hooded eyes and a sensual mouth with a hint of cruelty in it. There were interesting hollows under his cheekbones. He looked freshly scrubbed and meticulously clean. He was all bone and sinew under a shirt and pants so tight that they left little to the imagination. Robbie wasn’t indifferent to the hard body or to the thought of seeing the slightly menacing eyes soften with desire. He was Greek so anything could happen. He still expected others to make the first move. He let his eyes linger on the hard curve of red lips.

  “Where are you going?” Yanni asked.

  “Nowhere in particular. I was just going for a walk.”

  “It’s good I’m watching. You get on. I take you wherever you want to go. It’s too hot to walk.”

  “Thanks again.” Robbie looked into his eyes and saw a glint of what might be lust. He put his hands on Yanni’s shoulders and swung a leg over the machine and sat behind him. The seat was a single oblong pillbox with no division for a passenger. There was nothing to hold on to except the driver. Their bodies were against each other, Robbie’s hands finding out what the hard flat chest felt like. It was exciting. His cock began to harden, pressed against the small of his companion’s back. There was no way to keep Yanni from feeling it. It continued to harden, making clear what it wanted. Robbie was making the first move after all.

  “All set?” Yanni asked, gunning the motor.

  “Okay. Where’re we going?”

  “There ain’t no place to go around here unless we just happen to think of something. Here goes.” They were off with a burst of speed.

  When he had found his balance, Robbie moved his hands down slowly over the spare torso and gripped Yanni’s hips, with his fingers directed toward the Greek’s groin. The friction of their bodies against each other was bringing him close to orgasm. He wondered if he should pretend to lose his balance and ask his chauffeur to stop.

  “You like it?” Yanni called over his shoulder.

  “What?”

  “My body. You’ve given it a good feel. A pretty kid like you, I’m flattered. You put your hands in the right place, you’ll find something to hang on to. It’s as hard as yours.”

  It took Robbie a moment to react. He was still amazed at how easily and naturally it happened and at the widespread acceptance of it. “I don’t want to interfere with your driving,” he objected for the record.

  “Don’t worry. Go ahead. You want it, don’t you?”

  “I’ll say.” He leaned forward so that his face was beside Yanni’s and moved his hands over a long slim erection. He gripped it and felt it respond.

  “I’ll take you somewhere and let you have it. I figured we’d think of something to do. Okay? You wanna get fucked?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. That’s all I want with guys—a good fuck. Nobody fucks me, in case you had any ideas. Is it big enough for you?”

  “It feels fine.”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty big. Yours feels a helluva lot bigger. That’s okay with me. I like to see a big cock. It gives me a kick. You like to suck? American guys are usually good cocksuckers, better than girls.”

  “I’m an American.” Robbie laughed at his bold admission. Maybe Johnny had been right. Maybe it had to do with nationality, part of his heritage.

  “It’s not for me but I like guys to do it to me. Hey. You better watch it. You’re going to make me come.”

  Robbie let go of the erection and moved his hands up over his torso, unbuttoning the tight shirt as he went along. There was only a light scattering of hair on Yanni’s chest. He planted his hands on it and pressed himself against him and ran his tongue up his neck and around his ear.

  “You’re a helluva sexy guy,” Yanni said. “You like me, hunh?”

  “The question was touching. He had imagined menace; Yanni just wanted to be liked. He kissed the hollow of his cheek. “You’re damned attractive.”

  “You, too. When I seen you coming, I thought, Boy, there’s a piece of ass I wouldn’t mind having. There ain’t no kids like you around here. Frankly, you’re the most beautiful guy I ever seen.”

  The road was deserted, winding through trees. Yanni was so nearly naked that Robbie couldn’t see any reason not to go further. He dropped his hands and unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down as low as they would go. He ran his hands over the hard flat belly and reached in under his balls and lifted everything out.

  “Wow,” Yanni cried. “I’m Superman. Here I come.” He put on a burst of speed.

  Robbie swept his hands up over his body and pulled his shoulders back and looked down at his handiwork. The long slim erection was airborne, flying as straight as an arrow to its destination. It pierced the air. Robbie nuzzled his neck and moved his hands everywhere on the naked body and laughed.

  “Jeez, I never been so excited,” Yanni shouted. “We better stop fooling around on this thing.” He veered off the road and roared up an incline into the trees and came to a jolting halt. “Okay. Nobody’ll bother us here.”

  They dismounted. Yanni did something to the motorcycle that made it stand and wait for them. He looked outrageously naked in the loose disarray of his clothes. Robbie was seized in a wiry embrace and his mouth was invaded by a lively tongue. Yanni opened his shorts and withdrew his erection and pulled back.

  “Jeez. You got a cock. I never seen a bigger one. Take your clothes off. I want a good look at you.”

  Robbie shed his brief garments. He loved being naked out of doors. He loved being told he had a big cock. “I’m about to come,” he said urgently.

  “Good. You come when I do.” Yanni moved around behind him and squeezed his buttocks. “What a body. I’ve got myself an ass. Quick. You suck me off and then I’ll take you somewhere I can fuck you silly.”

  “I hope so.”

  “No problem. I can make it five times in a row easy, specially with a guy like you.”

  When Robbie was returned to the beached dinghy, he didn’t feel that his education had been much advanced by the experience. He still didn’t know the difference between homosexuality and what they’d been doing, although there obviously was one. Yanni had said enough to indicate that girls weren’t excluded from his life but Robbie couldn’t imagine a more satisfying lover except for his Greek refusal to take his cock into his mouth. He no longer needed any confirmation of the fact that men who seemed normal wanted him. Why? He still needed somebody to talk to. He needed Carl. At least Yanni hadn’t made him feel guilty. They had had a nice friendly time together.

  The weather turned unfavorable. The Coslings continued to run into stiff winds and rough seas that slowed their progress. They were close to Delos but it was taking forever to get there. Carl was on all their minds although his name wasn’t mentioned. Stuart was afraid he’d think them unfriendly if they didn’t show up. Helene thought of his last outrageous remark. If it weren’t for that, she wouldn’t want to see him again. Robbie simply wondered. They all agreed that they couldn’t miss Delos.

  They finally sighted it across a tumultuous sea and the first person they saw as they pulled in beside the protection of its dock was Carl von Eschenstadt in crisp white shorts and shirt.

  “You’re late,” he called. “I’ve been waiting for weeks.”

  Stuart was too busy helping to tie up the boat to notice the slightly wild note in Helene’s laughter.

  “We’ve had the most awful weather,” she said when the flurry of arrival was over and Carl was waiting for the gangplank. “We planned to get here four days ago.”

  “I’ve always thought she was a good sailor until the last few days. She’s been as nervous as a cat,” Stuart said jokingly as he gave von Eschenstadt a hand to help him aboard.

  “Ah, so?” He glanced quickly from one to the other and then gave Stuart a hug, shook hands with Helene, smiled at Robbie, and mussed his hair. “I’m sorry. However, you are here. I was afraid you weren’t coming. Ah, the beautiful handsome Coslings. I am so happy to see you again.” It was a joyful reunion. He told them that he had decided to go to France the following month and that if he liked St. Tropez he might try to find a small house to rent. The friend he was staying with here was away for a few days so he was completely at their disposal. He was eager to show them the sights.

  “It is fantastic,” he exclaimed. “Wait till you see the wonders that are here. They keep stumbling on more every day. Robbie specially—you will go mad about it.” He looked at Robbie in his tantalizing way.

  Robbie felt a lift of excitement. He was aware of the knowledge he had acquired in the last few weeks. He was no longer daunted by an older man and was confident of being able to take him on as a sexual partner. Carl wasn’t a homosexual but he was sure his sexual experience had been varied. He would be able to explain the things that were troubling him.

  They lounged away the evening with tall drinks and a meal and talk. Helene frequently felt the German’s eyes on her and she had to make an effort not to turn on him the look of withering scorn he deserved. Afraid of him, indeed! When he got caught up in a conversation with Stuart, she could allow herself the pleasure of watching the sparkle of his eyes, the flash of his white teeth, the gestures of his powerful hands, and the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders. He was a superb creature. It was somehow appropriate to find him here at the birthplace of Apollo. Robbie waited for the moment he was sure would come.

  Carl came for them the next morning to go on a tour. As they approached the site, Robbie noticed a broken marble column that rose some ten feet against the sky. He did a double take before he felt the shock in the soles of his feet. It was a colossal phallus with giant testicles for a base. The others paid no overt attention to it and he hurried past. He was going to have to do some exploring on his own.

  They saw all the major sights and then Carl led them on to the recent excavations in the less ancient area of the Roman resort. He made an admirable guide, a touch of poetry enlivening plentiful facts and figures.

  “Now, look here,” he exclaimed. “Imagine the perfection of this patio and this row of columns when they were standing. Such harmony and space. This was a relatively modest private house. What do we have to compare to it today?”

  “It reminds me a bit of home,” Stuart said with a wink at Robbie. “What does the master architect say?”

  Robbie burst out laughing, imagining a giant phallus at the entrance to their property. Carl had been right: the place fascinated him. The cult of Apollo, the worship of beauty with its overtones of frank pagan eroticism, was everywhere in evidence. He felt a meeting of the sensual and the spiritual that reflected his own almost religious awe of the male body. He wasn’t alone in worshiping at the phallic altar. The spiritual and the sensual—would he eventually find a balance that would absolve him of all guilt?

  As they approached the entrance to another enclosure of tumbling walls, Carl stopped and held up his hand. “Now you shall see something,” he said impressively. “This is the sort of thing they turn up all the time.” He stood aside and gestured them in. There, propped up in a corner against some blocks of stone, was a superb marble male figure. “You see how like it is to the Belvedere Apollo?” Carl said. “Probably a contemporary copy on a small scale although the head is different and the cloak has been left off. The tragedy is that it will probably lie here indefinitely. We need another Napoleon to gather up the treasures of Europe and give them proper housing.”

  “You might suggest it to Hitler,” Stuart remarked.

  “He would put a fig leaf on it,” Carl said, making a face. He went to the statue and ran his hand lovingly over the neck and shoulders. Robbie’s cock stirred. “Come, you must feel it. Beautiful creature, how I should love to own you.” They gathered around it in silent admiration.

  “Do they really let things like this lie around here?” Stuart asked. “I should think they’d get stolen.”

  Carl uttered his hearty laughter. “Try to lift it,” he said. “Of course, things do disappear and they call it stealing. The Greeks are poor, after all.”

  “You mean they sell off things like this?”

  “It happens. This isn’t even classified yet. Do you want it? You could probably have it.”

  “Shocking thought,” Stuart said with a smile of disbelief.

  “That is one’s first reaction. But I confess that if I had a home, I should make a serious effort to acquire it.”

  “Why don’t we take it?” Robbie said eagerly. The thought of owning it took his breath away.

  “There is the realistic voice of youth,” Carl said, not disapprovingly.

  “Darling, things like that are public property,” Helene objected.

  “But Carl says—”

  “I’m sure Carl doesn’t mean half of what he says,” she said.

  Carl met her eyes for an instant. “Ah, my dear Helene, I do,” he said. “I always mean exactly what I say.”

  Stuart broke in. “If what you say is true, how would you go about getting hold of it?” The eagerness in Robbie’s voice had prompted him to speak. He wanted to share the boy’s enthusiasm; it was a reminder of the larks they had enjoyed together long ago.

  “Are you serious, my friend?” Carl asked.

  “Why not? Would it be expensive?”

  “I would have to inquire. You know, you could get in trouble. Its disappearance might not be noticed at once but if it should be, any yacht that had been here would be suspect.”

  “What would they do? Send a battleship after us?”

  “Nothing as sensible as that. But they would certainly send out an order to every Greek port to search you.”

  “What if we didn’t put in at any Greek port?”

  “That would be the best plan. Then your only problem would be to explain yourself to the customs of other nations. The Italians would undoubtedly think you had stolen it from them. I believe Mussolini is very touchy about such things.”