Captain Alfred's Affair

His consciousness floated face down as he drifted in time's black ocean. Islands came and went until he arrived at the shores of his beloved United States. Their high mountains, low deserts, deep lakes, and shallow streams long ago etched into his memories came back to him as he existed in a dream rudely awoken each time the guards delivered the simple meals that made his old army rations seem sumptuous by comparison. When he arrived he hoped he could grow accustomed to the soldier's contemptuous stares and un-hushed insults while his back turned. Each bite was carefully sniffed from the safety of his utensils. After a few chews, he would gently inhale the air from his mouth to his more sensitive nose and rapidly breathe it back and forth to saturate his senses and more thoroughly grasp its flavor. The food was lousy but he overcame the foul taste to search for taints not indicative to the slop. Always suspecting but never determining it to contain the unknown taste of fresh urine or the taste he imagined for feces, it took him nearly two hours to finish one meal and it kept his appetite perpetually unsatisfied.

"They get enough satisfaction with feeding me this crap as it is," he thought to himself each time but kept eating in the same fashion. "This is truly worthy of a traitor..." When not meticulously smelling what the guards called food, he wrote his dear wife and children, slept erratically, or read in his hut. For years he promised his wife a vacation to a tropical place like this but the constant exposure turned him a painful pink and turned his increasingly receded hair line dry and flakey. Too much of paradise it would seem.

Occasionally he began talking to himself for conversation but chastised himself, hoping to maintain sanity. The rules said the guards were not instructed to converse with him beyond rudimentary instruction, thus leaving him socially starved as well. The traitorous slut Keeler was all whom he knew he could speak with but his patriotism kept him far from her side of the island. When the sun came down he wandered the beach alone and found no other shacks but Kitty's. At first he wondered where all the other traitors went but the exile induced apathy won out.

A supply ship arrived once a month, bringing him his beloved Lucy's correspondence. It came once after two months but of course he was given no explanation nor did he ask for one. He read the back-log as always in order of post-mark. The papers were wrinkled in the spots her tears fell upon it, smearing the ink of her handwritten letters. Most of the them vaguely described efforts to appeal his case; it pained him to speak of their children but he knew his sanity could not be maintained without reports of their growth. He opened the last, most recently stamped letter and burst into sobs upon his particle board desk.

She had given birth to their third child—a boy whom she named Junior. Had she consulted with him, he would have told her not to give their child his name or else he would suffer a horrible stigma as not only the seed of a traitor but his name sake as well. Such was too much for a child to bear. The son he'd never met was, from looking at the post mark, already two months old.

Delicate knocking startled him from his grief but he had enough presence of mind to realize it was different than the guards' typically shuddering smacks. He stepped to and opened the door, beholding the traitorous Keeler dressed warmly for the chilly night.

"What do you want?" he pleaded, his eyes red with sadness. Her eyebrows rose at the center and she reached to him.

"Oh my God, what's wrong? What happened?" she begged him to answer.

"My son is born yet here I am. It's something you wouldn't understand," he insulted her but she ignored it.

"You'd be surprised. I have family I'll never see either," she looked sadly at the sandy floor. "I've been here so long and they never send me anything."

"I think because you deserve what you got," a single tear leaked from his dry sockets. "You deserve everything you get for what you did."

"Just like you?"

"No!" he shouted indignantly. "I mean, yes!" he backtracked and slammed his fist futiley against the door frame. "My sentence befits conspiracy charges! I just didn't do them!"

"I was sentenced for falling in love too easily and with the wrong kind of men," she nodded softly. "I didn't know how much the feds were looking into it."

"But their pillow talk," he started to recount her crimes but she stopped him.

"They taped them all, they knew I didn't ask anything from either man. I just wanted their love," she started crying herself. "The press loves sex and national security was the perfect vehicle for it." His defense eroded slightly upon hearing this but his posture remained stiff and unforgiving. "Once the media said I was guilty, the courts had to follow up," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same happened to me I suppose," he remembered the dreadful imprisonment many, many months ago. "I didn't say goodbye to my daughters when they took me away and they didn't let them in the court room," he laughed hopelessly. "They reluctantly let my lawyer visit me in prison, barely let my wife, and never my kids. But sure enough, everyday, I got five or six of the day's newspapers and every one proclaimed my guilt." They shared a solemn silence, the full moon above them slammed the ocean against the shore like a metronome with no accompaniment. "It makes you feel impotent, ya know? You know you're innocent but everyone sees it through such a distorted filter that they become just as convinced to the contrary."

"May I come in, please?" He looked into her hopeful eyes, the same eyes that graced every newspaper in the nation. He remembered the day off the government, military, and most businesses gave their employees to celebrate the inevitable verdict with columns of smoke from countless backyard barbecues and grills. Back then, Kitty Keeler's tears were mocked with patriotic satisfaction as they streaked the carefully applied make up down her face and dribbled from her chin when they dragged her out of the jubilant courtroom.

"Sure, c'mon in," he unblocked the doorway and stretched out his arm to the nearby chair. She daintily entered and sat down as he shut the door and did likewise on his cot. At last he had someone to talk with. Another soul who suffered as much as him. At first he entertained her grief as that of a remorseful harlot but as the months turned to another year, he came to see her as a kindred spirit. The pleasant surprise that, for someone whose expertise was assumed to lie solely with other men, she was an avid reader who had a full library like his own; this essentially doubled his collection and pleased him greatly.

They spent more and more time in the other person's shack in comfortable silence when they read or in the other's arms as they cried. One night, after one particularly thorough and enlightening conversation people seldom have and rarely acknowledge, they held each other for over an hour, whispering their mutual thanks. Under normal social conditions, they could freely associate with literally thousands of potential persons, sharing their thoughts and attentions with each one. In the busy American lifestyle, it was often an honor to receive any uninterrupted time from loved ones. On the island however, with no one else to share, and no one to interrupt, they each received undivided attention that, while an assumption of their new life, was by no means taken for granted.

News of Drey's appeal grew dimmer with every letter until Lucy stopped writing about it altogether. He saved every letter of course but more and more his hands shook and body quivered when he opened new ones. He no longer expected good news and resigned himself to his new life but without escaping into fantasy. The most enlightening letter contained the first mention of their young son since his birth. Overcome by excitement, Lucy, who perhaps avoided mentioning Junior for fear of Drey's regret for having never met him, revealed he spoke his first word.

"Duck?" Katie repeated.

"Duck!" he laughed excitedly from his desk as he handed the letter to her. She grabbed it and found the passage.

"How wonderful! I never had the chance for children," she added with a touch of self pity. "It's ironic. The more marriable I become, the older I get on this island," she ended and quickly glanced at Drey but he did not notice her ambiguous statement. "I've always wanted children, you know. The press of course wouldn't have you believe that!"

"Yeah you're right!" he laughed. "I can remember reading a story about myself that speculated I fed my daughters human flesh, or ate them, or some such nonsense!" he laughed again, this time Katie joined him.

Like caged animals, they adapted to each other and so, as his hope for redemption became a trickle, he succumbed to her and spent entire nights in the other's tender arms. Without even so much as a kiss Drey experienced unparalleled intimacy rivaled only perhaps by the distant memory of his wife. One night, some months after they began cuddling, she opened her mouth during their otherwise quiet time.

"Why won't you make love to me?" she asked with finality, sounding as if coming to the end of an argument. For some time a silent exchange brewed in her mind and showed through twitches on her face, unbeknownst to Drey whose head nestled against the back of her neck. Drey blinked and shot his head back confused. "Well?" She expected him to reply thoroughly enough to satisfy the amount of time she already put in.

"I have a wife and children," he said drearily. "I couldn't do that to them."

"But you've been here years already, and there's no hope to be released. Why not settle down here—maybe we can make it work—it's been so long since I've been with a man let alone one as kind as you," she added completely disregarding their first meeting in the fruit bushes. He knew she was right but he refused to admit it to himself so he looked at the matter practically.

"The guards wouldn't let us, you know..." he muttered into her ear.

"But they know we spend time with each other," she began like running off a check list long since prepared for the question, "they know we have urges, and they haven't done anything yet. I think I heard a few laugh but as long as we stay on the island, they don't care. They probably prefer this since they only have to watch one hut at a time now."

"But what if you get in a family way?" he argued again, using a phrase almost as old as pregnancy itself. She threw his arm off her, left the bed, and stepped beyond the pale moonlight seeping through the closed shutters into the room's darkness at the other side.

"And so what if I did?!" she asked, her voice quivering in pain. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Raising a child here would be dreadful! They'd take it away from us!"

"But wouldn't that be better than not having one? That a part of our love escaped this wretched place and got someplace else?" she gestured to the ocean and beyond. In all their time together, love had never come up. Did he love her? He was certainly as familiar with her real persona as he was with his own wife's. Two decades of hard work and schedules gave him but two hours a day at best to even sit in comfortable silence with Lucy and so the few years with Katie, spending almost every moment with her, gave him a unique insight into her mind and likewise her with him.

He stood up from the bed and approached her furious dark silhouette. Taking her chin into his hand, he kissed her rough lips. Shortly his simple kiss turned to voracious sexual hunger as their years of involuntary celibacy came to head and his cock-head as well. Heavy with blood, it chafed against his simple trousers and he swiftly dropped them onto the floor, exploring every curve of her supple body and licking her cooling sweat and rolling heat along the way.

She pressed his head harder against her body and slowly closed her eyes as his mouth reached her skirt and carefully pulled it down with his teeth to reveal her thick untamed bush and the wet musky pussy underneath. He stood up to face her again, his fingers dancing along her body as their mouths met yet again. Pressing his palm against her sex, he felt the lewd heat pulsing within and filling his shack with the sweet smell of pussy. It had been a long time since he smelled that wonderful aroma. His memory flooded with thoughts of Lucy, but as he inserted his finger into Katie's loose cunt, drawing a passive whimper to match, she melted away and all that remained was Katie. Hurriedly she threw off her top, then his, and all but threw him onto the cot that rocked with his landing. Her full figure strutted to him, the vague moonlight casting a white glow to pasty white flesh unused to the sun. She bent down, running her palms along the sheets until they came to his body and resumed from there until they came to his throbbing member. She grasped it with both hands and delicately squeezed it, a drop of pre-cum pouring out. She licked her lips hungrily and stared at it.

"Normally I would love to blow you but I need you inside," she said now looking hungrily at his eyes. He gave her permission, desperately seeking satisfaction regardless of the method. Though since his time on the island he did indulge himself to masturbation periodically, he longed to feel the warm envelope of womanhood surround his cock and accept his seed. A hand and a square of rough toilet paper hardly compared the glories one can find with simply a man and a woman.

Her ample legs straddled his body and sidled up until her coarse hair rubbed his stomach and her ass pressed his erection into her wide crack. She winked as she raised her hips and guided his cock into her aching, hungry pussy that all but inhaled the firm and welcomed intruder. Lowering her torso until her tits pressed again his chest, she raised her hips, letting his cock escape the agony of ecstasy inside, and rammed it back inside, shooting pleasure up his spine and into his brain. She whispered words he did not hear or understand as his mind flooded with his own ecstasy in anticipation of the orgasm to come and the seed to fill her belly and make her large with child. Yes, their child probably would be taken away but at least some of them would escape.

So their affair began. Many months passed and naturally they spent their nights together. During the day they would simply read books, occasionally catching the other staring delightfully at the other. Even in his middle age, this often sparked a sensuous and steamy roll in the hay and hours long naps only to do it again when they awoke. Routinely barefoot and seldom wearing clothing inside their hut, she would amble about the room, her swelling stomach leading the way. In the beginning she would crash it into objects, claiming she forgot she nourished their rustling child inside though Drey suspected otherwise. After routinely admiring her gravid body, Katie knew perfectly well that any reminder of her pregnancy was arousing and accidents were both a funny and practical means to make the slightly older man amorous. As predicted, the guards took the sight of her pregnancy without concern. They gave her more food, more helpings if she vomited it, and when the next boat arrived, even vitamin supplements. She greeted them with a smile and displayed her belly proudly for the men each time they came by with food.

"We really must put in a request for more books," she said one morning as they lay reading in bed. "I've read this Dickens twice already and I'm nearly finished with the third," she slammed it shut, purposely neglecting to mark her place.

"Maybe you should just erase your memory since you first read it?" Drey offered jokingly.

"Nah, it was one of the first books I read here and that would mean I'd have to forget all about you," she smiled and rubbed her hand on the naked body behind her. Putting her head in the nook of his arm, she held him tightly as she continued to read. He kissed her in silent reply, wishing to escape the line of discussion. Whatever he felt for Katie, he still did not wish he ever came to this blasted island and the hope of vindication occasionally reared its head. He never told Lucy about Katie. Resenting the implications of sharing an island with such a traitorous woman, he refused. Then, when their relationship became intimate, it was in bad taste to tell his wife whom he could not divorce from halfway across the globe; or this would be the reason he would give Katie if she ever asked.

Just like other times, her massage became deeper and extended, venturing beyond his chest and stomach to his neck, face, and his cock, all while reaching behind her. A younger man might still have had an erection or, at worst, recovered from an protracted one, but Drey's required more stimulation.

Katie turned her head to face his side and took deep breaths as her fingers extended and grasped his package. Inserting his blood weighted dick between two fingers, she squeezed it and cupped the rest with a firm grip. Her fingers played it like a simple tune on a piano, squeezed delicately one moment but firmly the next instant, and even tugged them slightly from side to side until his cock grew too big for her grasp and stood proudly into the open air. She sat up and delicately slid her pregnant body down the bed to straddle his knees.

Swelled with child, she weighed on his body. She smiled like an angel though the sight of her filled his mind with the most Devilish thoughts imaginable. Her large hanging breasts rested against her belly but still swayed as she adjusted her position upon him and displayed her pregnant form in its entirety. Her palms slid up his thighs until wrapping them hand over hand around his pulsing member, inciting pre-cum with delicate squeezes as the tip of her tongue jutted from her hungry mouth. Drey nearly closed his eyes but her eager single minded staring at his engorged head was far too delectable and endearing to turn away from.

Dipping herself slowly downward, she removed the hand on top and consumed the length down to her remaining hand. Holding it there for a moment, she ran her tongue along the underside and erratically pushed the skin about as she quietly sucked. Her remaining hand pumped as best it could without slamming into his crotch. As a sign of her expertise, the pumping hand never touched her mouth, an action that would otherwise cause her bite down into the tender meat. She hummed joyfully, almost involuntarily making Drey clench the sheets with hands and groan delightedly at her method. Whenever she pleasured him so skillfully, he ceased to remember her history and how this prowess was acquired and then revealed to the world via Court TV. She was not the whore the media made her out to be—she was his beautiful love who carried his child, and as she took his cock from her mouth, stuck her tongue out, and ran it up and down the length before sucking the whole of it to the back of her throat, he thought her one of the best lovers and partners a man could have.

She was so much an expert that he occasionally felt guilty that he despised oral reciprocation. Though he had tried several times, he found the experience a bitter one and her pregnancy only served to make her pussy glow more along with the rest of her skin. And at five months pregnant, the angles were so difficult he could barely even make love in the missionary position. Katie was gracious and claimed sex was always about the man and she could always get pleasure with her hands so long as he was there to experience it with her. He readily agreed to this and, to his surprise, revealed a voyeuristic side of him he never knew.

The whole throbbed underneath her probing tongue, welcomed her dripping saliva, and thanked God when engulfed in her warm hungry mouth as it noisily slurped and sucked to siphon his seed straight from his balls and into her stomach. But she did not want it in her stomach. As his soft moans became hard grunts, she withdrew the head from her mouth with a loud kissing smack sound and smiled licentiously. He sighed and moaned in reply as he sidled over and let her lie in his place. She lowered herself onto her back, accommodating the weight of her belly. She grunted satisfactorily when she finally landed but cooed gently when his hands ran along her curve and rubbed circles around her (now outie) belly button. There was but a faint whisper of a smile and an endearing glint of love and hope in his eyes as he outlined their yet to be born love child. Aside from letters, he had long since stopped thinking about his former wife and family, spending the whole of his thoughts on his blooming relationship with his blushing lover and their budding offspring. She giggled when he kissed her stomach.