Discovery Island

Amanda figured it was her turn to begin asking some questions, so she spoke to Jack, "So, how come you're working on the island Jack?"

"Actually, I was born here, but my family only stayed for a short time and I grew up down South. Then, during the war, purely by coincidence, I was posted here. After helping to decommission the installation, I was de-mobbed. The one remaining farmer on the island had lost his son, so I stepped in to help and I've been here ever since."

"Installation? Jenny never mentioned that the island had anything to do with the war."

Jack looked at Michael, who now spoke, "It was a bit hush hush. I was posted here in 1941 and that's when I met Jack. I was his officer, but things were a bit more relaxed than in most places and we became firm friends. He told me about Mr Smith (the farmer) falling ill in 1947. Smith had managed to keep things going for a while, but eventually he decided to retire and move to live with his daughter in Dundee. I then bought the farm and kept Jack on. Since then we've concentrated on improving the flock and building up the business."

"What have I missed," said Jenny, breezing through the door. "Brandy! Goody, I could just do with something to round off the evening."

Michael explained what they had been talking about and then Jenny had an idea, "Jack, you're not doing anything special tomorrow, are you? Perhaps you can take Mummy on a tour of the island?"

"Sure. I'd love to."

Amanda felt that, for once, her life wasn't quite in her own hands.

Later that evening, Jack escorted Amanda back to the other cottage. They sat down in the sitting room so that he could show her a map of the island. But first he asked if she would like a nightcap.

"What have you got?"

"A Single malt whisky, twenty years old and just reaching its best."

She wasn't really a whisky drinker, but for some reason she accepted his offer. To her surprise he offered it to her neat.

"No soda or water? She asked.

"Not with this lass, no. You should never add anything to a single malt except the water from the original spring."

She raised the glass to her lips, expecting to not enjoy the experience, but she was intrigued to find that it was smooth and light on the tongue. The warm sensation as it slipped down her throat was entirely pleasant. Very soon she had finished the glass and accepted a top-up. While she sipped, Jack went to the sideboard and extracted the map of island. He walked across and laid it across her lap. She was surprised at how small it looked.

"Now, this is where the farm is," he said, pointing on the map. "And this is where you landed at the dock."

With that, he placed his finger on the map, "And this is the track you took to get to the farm."

His finger slowly traced the twisting route. Amanda realised that it was probably an entirely innocent gesture, but even through the material of the map, her skirt and stockings, she could feel his digit as it began its journey somewhere just above and on the outside of her left knee. It moved on up her leg and then in a curving line moved across to the top of her thigh to rest on the suspender strap. She held her breath, trying not to fidget in her seat as her body started to react.

"And the Lookout Post is up here." He put his finger on the northern coast of the island, "And this is the track we use."

The map had folded over her knees, so he lifted the top part as he traced the marked track. Again, his finger made contact with her leg, this time at the inside of her right knee. The route ran almost precisely north / south in general, but meandered from right to left and back again.

Amanda continued looking at the map, but her eyes crossed. She imagined how it would feel to have this man run his finger up the inside of her leg, without clothing. She almost grabbed his hand, to stop him? Or to ensure he didn't stop? She never found out as the finger suddenly swept across to join up with the other track that he had indicated earlier and then lifted from the map.

Jack lifted the map from Amanda's lap and turned away, folding it back up. She became aware that her knees were not together -- indeed, her legs had involuntarily begun to part during the map reading. She snapped them together and got to her feet, aware that she needed to be somewhere else just now.

"I think it's time for me to be getting to bed," she said, her throat feeling dry despite the drink she had just finished.

"Oh, right you are. Good night then," he replied from the other side of the room.

Amanda walked on unsteady legs, out of the sitting room and up the stairs. Inside the bedroom, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. What was the matter with her? She hadn't felt like this for years! In fact, she wasn't sure that she had ever felt quite this aroused before. Her arms had folded across her breasts, but one hand felt the sensitive, hardened nipple and the hand opened and then grasped the rounded flesh. She crossed her legs, attempting to stop the tingling there, but the action just made it worse. She walked across to the bed, every step making her feel so faint that she didn't know what to do.

Slowly, trying not to inflame her desires further, she began to undress. She closed her eyes as she unbuttoned her blouse, trying to concentrate on the action of her fingers. She shrugged the garment from her shoulders and then her hands moved to her skirt. She fumbled to unfasten the button, but once the zip was loosened, the skirt also dropped to the floor.

Still with her eyes closed, Amanda pushed her thumbs inside the elastic of her slip and eased it down her legs. Her blouse, skirt and slip were now pooled around her ankles. She wanted to step out of them, but the movement would only stimulate her further, so she opened her eyes, picked up her nightdress from the bed and put it over her head. Then, she slid the brassiere straps from her shoulders and pulled them from her arms, which she then pushed through the sleeves of her nightie. With that done, she then unfastened the hooks and eyes at the back of her bra and pulled it away from her breasts. Instantly, the cool, cotton material caressed her aching nipples.

"Ohhhhh," she groaned.

Amanda had closed her eyes again and stood absolutely still; hoping the excruciating waves of pleasure would subside. It wasn't helping that her breathing was heavy and that her breasts rose and fell with the movement. Finally, she felt able to continue and leant forward to unclip her stockings. Again, she pushed them down her legs to lie, crumpled around her ankles.

The suspender belt was relatively simple to remove. After all, it wasn't in contact with any of the sensitive areas of her body. But then she came to the French knickers. Like many women in the 1950s she wore the full briefs normally, but during times of hot weather (such as now) she switched to the more comfortable and free, but old fashioned form of underwear); she carefully pushed them down from her waist and over her hips. That was when she realised precisely how wet she was; the silk material of the gusset had become adhered to her sodden pussy. Looking now through her thick bush of brown hair; she could see that the material had become transparent with her juices. Pushing the panties down further, peeling them away from her vagina, it became too much to bear. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor. She pushed her hand between her legs, as if trying to scratch an itch, but that just made it worse. She started to feel dizzy and her other hand clutched her breast.

That was when she came.

When she was younger and with her husband, sometimes (but very rarely), she might become very aroused and he might last just a bit longer than usual and she had almost reached orgasm (but not quite). So, she really didn't know what it was like. The reaction of her body, the inability to think straight, the fluids, the exhilaration, were all a new country to Amanda. She was probably lying on the floor for as much as ten minutes before she was able to move again. She crawled onto the bed, pushing her stockings and knickers off and then lay down, pulling the covers over herself. Within a couple of minutes she was sound asleep.

*****

Breakfast was typically early at 7am -- life on the farm had a routine that was kept throughout the year. But at this time, of course, the sun was already up and it was a bright and beautiful day with just the odd, fluffy, white cumulus cloud occasionally providing a brief respite from the heat.

By half past eight, the table had been cleared and Amanda had returned from her room in the next cottage where she had been preparing for the island tour. Once again she wore the Tweed suit, with a cream blouse beneath. But this time she had opted for more sensible flat shoes.

Jack went outside and hopped into the Land Rover. The engine coughed into life first time (reliable as ever) and he tooted the horn to let Amanda know he was ready.

Before she could reach the door handle, Jenny stopped her and handed over a wicker basket. "I thought you might like a picnic while you're out. I've put some bottles of orange juice in as well."

"Thank you darling, that's very kind. But surely it won't take that long to tour the island. After all it isn't very big is it?"

No Mummy, it isn't very big. But we don't have streets and pavements, so a mile here can take fifteen minutes in the Landy. Besides, there's a lot to see."

Outside, Jack tooted again, so Amanda smiled at Jenny and walked out. She opened the rear door and laid the basket inside, then made her way round to the passenger door. Jack didn't get out to hold the door for her (as she would normally expect a gentleman to do), but leaned across and pulled the door handle and pushed the door wide.

Amanda made the same manoeuvre as the day before, sliding her bottom onto the seat and then swinging both of her legs round together before planting her feet in the foot well. Despite being careful, her skirt raised a little and when she looked at Jack he didn't quite look away quickly enough for her not to notice that he had been peeking.

They drove off back along the track that they had arrived by en route from the dock, but halfway there Jack took a right fork and headed north. As Jenny had suggested, the way was pretty difficult and progress was slow. Eventually, they neared the cliffs furthest from the farm. For some time she had noticed a concrete structure that they seemed to be heading towards, so she asked Jack about it.

"It was put up during the war. This was where Michael and I were stationed. There were some Nissan huts and a hangar, but they took them away. You can just make out the concrete bases over there, but they become more overgrown every year."

"Tell me," she said. "What exactly did you do here?"

"Ah, well, we're not supposed to say - even now, so many years later. Suffice to say that people went that way," he indicated the East. "And sometimes they came back."

"SOE?" she asked.

"Come on into the observation tower." The only answer he was prepared to give.

The building itself looked a little like a control tower, with windows all round. They walked through an unlocked door past an office and ascended the stairs. In the control room almost all of the windows were still there. A couple were cracked, but still in place. The only broken window sported the bones of a seabird on the outside sill. The grime of many years made it difficult to see out, but Jack pointed out the rough outline of the overgrown landing strip, where the Westland Lysanders had landed and taken off.

"Let's go up to the observation platform on the roof. That was where we had spotters -- that was my job -- to watch out for German bombers coming in from Norway using a Mark 7 rangefinder. We had to work out their direction and height and make a note of how many there were, then pass the info on to the mainland."

He walked over to a steep stepladder that ran up to the ceiling. Climbing up, he put his hand up to the hatch cover and pushed. Nothing happened, so he went up another step and pushed harder. The cover opened and swung back to remain propped open by a securing chain on either side. Jack stepped back down and gestured over to Amanda.

"You'd better go first," he explained. The steps might be a bit slippery, so I'll be behind you just in case."

Amanda noted the steepness and was concentrating on gripping the handrail and climbing up one step at a time. The gap between each was just outside of the range of comfort and her skirt rode up as she climbed.

Jack hadn't even thought about the consequences of letting Amanda go first. After all, he had only ever seen people wearing trousers climbing the ladder. So, as Amanda went further, more and more of her legs came on show. He'd already noted that she was an attractive woman and had relished the chance to spend some time with her -- even though he had assumed it would be innocent.

With the next step up, Amanda's head was now looking out onto the roof and as she transferred her hands to outside rails she was too busy looking at the view to notice Jack beneath her.

With that last step up, Amanda's stocking shops became visible. With the next, it was her underwear and as she stepped over the rim Jack was treated to glimpse that immediately made him hard. He had been able to see right up Amanda's skirt and even inside the loose fitting legs of her French knickers, revealing a glimpse of arse cheek. He recovered his wits and quickly followed her up onto the top deck.

"Oh my," said Amanda. "The view is breathtaking! I hadn't realised it down there. The colours are amazing!" She looked all around, seeing the island stretching to the south, with one high point in the middle and the sea shimmering deep blue everywhere else. Jack beckoned her over to one railing and pointed towards the cliffs.

"Can you see that edge over there? Where it curves inland?"

She nodded.

"Well, you can't see it from here, but that's a little cove where we had a landing dock. We used it for an HSL -- that's a high speed launch. It's a bit of a sun trap; perhaps we should have our picnic down there?"

"OK," she replied. "That sounds nice". It was still fairly early -- too early for lunch, but Jack led the way back down. He went first, in order to protect Amanda if she got into difficulties on the steps. Once again he was treated to a delightful view.

It was after she had come down that Amanda was watching Jack close the hatch. She suddenly realised that she was staring at the front of his trousers, where there appeared to be a bulge. She shook her head and turned away in case he noticed. But then she looked back over her shoulder and wondered if he had been able to see up her skirt earlier. Then the memories of last night returned and her mouth went dry.

Jack showed her round the rest of the site before reaching into the Land Rover and grabbing the picnic basket. From here, the cove was completely invisible, but he led the way to where a pair of concrete pillars stood. As they got closer Amanda recognised that they were at the top of a flight of steep steps. There was a metal handrail secured to the rock face, which she held on to as they descended. The pathway wound around and down, sometimes by slope, sometimes by steps. About halfway down, Jack pointed back and showed her where there had originally been a winch. He explained that this was where they could lift heavy equipment up past the vertical face, from the dock below.

By now Amanda could see what he had meant by calling it a suntrap. The cove faced south, allowing the sun full access to the installation below. The north-easterly winds and waves were kept at bay by the high cliffs, while the lesser waves from the south were obstructed by the rocks that stretched out from the other rock face, leaving a relatively narrow entrance to the cove. The waters appeared calm and probably remained relatively so even in a storm.

As they neared the bottom steps, Amanda could begin to see the installation. There was one concrete building, set on the concrete base that ran around the bottom of the cliffs. From the centre of this, a jetty made of timber on a steel frame ran out a short distance into the bay. There were bollards on it, indicating that this was where boats would have once been moored.

It was quiet here, with no sound apart from the gentle sound of the waves. They walked along the jetty to the end and looked down into the clear waters.

"It looks so inviting," she said.

Jack looked at his watch and said, "It's a bit early for lunch, but I've always found this a pleasant place to just sit. On quiet days during the war we used to go swimming off of here."

"Isn't the water a bit cold?"

"Well, it's not like down south, but at this time of year it's bearable. In fact, I quite fancy a swim now, how about you?"

"Are you joking?" she asked in amazement.

"No, it's really nice in there once you get used to it."

"Even if I did want to swim, I haven't got a swimming costume."

"Neither have I," he replied. "But that's never stopped me before."

And with that, he took of his boots and socks, shirt and vest and began unbuttoning his trousers. Amanda turned away, the colour of her face rising rapidly. Then she heard rapid footsteps on the wooden planking, followed by a splash. When she looked round Jack was nowhere to be seen. She walked along the jetty until he came in sight again, treading water just beyond the pier.

She continued until she was at the very end of the jetty. Through the clear water she could easily see that Jack was wearing his underpants. Relieved that he wasn't naked, she called down, "Well, is it cold?"

Jack looked up and was stunned to realise that once again he could see straight up Amanda's skirt, but this time from the front. With the additional light bouncing up off of the water, his view was unrestricted. He looked up long, shapely, nylon clad legs, and past the thicker tops and on along the vertical suspender straps that didn't disappear under her knickers. They didn't disappear because he could still see them, holding the silky material away from her legs, the sooth flesh of which continued upwards until they met, at a dark mass of pubic hair.

Jack replied with a simple, "No". He then turned quickly to hide his now rigid cock and swam away from the jetty.

Amanda didn't know what made her do it, perhaps it was the beautiful surroundings, or maybe her recently increased libido had something to do with it. Or maybe it was just that she was outside of her normally constrained surroundings? Whatever the answer, she walked back along the planking and began to undress.

Out in the cove, Jack had now turned round, far enough away that she wouldn't be able to see the tenting at the front of his underpants.

Amanda was facing away from him, her blouse and skirt and jacket already off and folded neatly on the concrete. She was sitting on one of the bollards rolling her stockings down her legs, back bent at the waist. Although too far away to see much, it was doing nothing to temper his erection. The last item to be removed was the string of pearls from around her neck.

Once undressed, Amanda then turned and jogged back along the jetty. The way her breasts swayed within her brassiere as she ran was hypnotic. She paused at the end and then held her nose and jumped in. Jack swam back towards her, arriving just as she re-surfaced.

"Ahhh! You so-and-so! You said it wasn't too cold!"

"You need to swim for a bit. Your muscles will soon warm up and you'll get used to it. Come on." He turned and began swimming using a breast stroke.

Amanda was a surprisingly good swimmer and soon caught up to Jack using long, powerful arm strokes and leg kicks. After a while, just as he had said, she began to get used to the temperature.