On the Island: Sabrina

I awoke that morning to Sabrina gently shaking me. When I looked up, I could barely make out her silhouette. It was still dark, almost pitch, but fishing was done early for breakfast, and we were on duty. I stretched, then got up and we heading down the beach, stepping carefully over our still sleeping companions. We reached the raft a few moments later, untied it from the rocks jutting from the water that served as our dock and started out to sea, making sure the security line was well fastened to keep us from floating away. It would allow us at least one hundred feet, but would keep the ocean's strong currents from pulling us further out.

Sabrina was fairly quiet, and this early, with the two of us tired, neither of us said anything until we reached the security line's full length. Then, she turned to me in the dark and asked, "Do you want to go first or should I?"

"I'll go," I said, thinking that the water would be cold and that she'd prefer to wait.

I took the first net and ensured its attachment to the side of the raft. The small craft was made of fallen trees and bamboo, and held together by some vines that we'd found near the mountain's peak. The light frame of it shifted easily under my weight, making it seem as though it would fall over when I stood. The net was well fastened. Contented with that, I took my shirt off, not wanting my clothes to get wet, then dropped my shorts and jumped over the side wearing only my boxer-briefs.

I'd been right. The water felt almost like ice as my body broke its surface. I quickly swam until the net resisted, letting me know I was at the net's full extension, then, I dropped it, making sure that the end with the stone attached was aimed at the bottom and the end with the wooden bobbin Joan had made was toward the surface, that the net wasn't twisted.

That done, I swam to the surface for air and waited to make sure the bobbin floated to the surface. Once it did, I swam back to the raft and climbed out, shivering.

Now, the sun was nearing the horizon, not ready to break over, but closer. I could make out her features a little. Her facial features weren't visible yet, but I knew she was beautiful already. Her slender form was outlined, however, when she stood to check her own net. She was thin, her hips a little wider than her waist and her breasts small but nicely shaped. Her figure could have been that of a sixteen-year-old, though she was almost twenty-three. I couldn't see it in the darkness, but her skin was tanned to the point of perfection. The island sun would do that to anyone I suppose. My skin was well browned by now as well. It had been three months.

Once she was satisfied with the condition of the net, she stepped to the front of the boat (it was three tiered, having a center piece made of about ten logs, and a tier to either side, both made of five logs; the side tiers, unlike the middle one, were tied together in a bundle. The bamboo created a plane between the three tiers, holding them in place, as well as softer padding covering the floor of the middle tier, like carpeting). There, she pulled her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in her bikini top and cut-off jean shorts. I guessed she would go as I did, in her underwear. That way we could hang the undies out to dry and wear the dry clothes. She dropped the shorts, then, to my surprise, untied her bikini top and dropped it on her others clothes, then took off the underwear and did the same.

Naked now, though, to my disappointment, I couldn't see any features, she dove headlong into the water and placed her net. After about five minutes in the water, she swam back to the boat. The sun was getting even closer to rising, and now she was more visible, but not enough for a clear view of her beautiful body as she pulled herself out of the water and into the boat again. She stood there, shivering, with her arms held across her chest as if to warm herself, and then she sat, folding her body in on itself to further the effect. I sat and watched, entertaining fantasies of offering her a hand in keeping warm and smiling to myself at the ridiculous nature of it.

We would wait about twenty minutes, and then dive back in to check the nets. In the meantime, we would sit in the cold, waiting for sunrise, an event quickly approaching, and hoping for warmth. Ironic, considering that, an hour from now, we'll be roasting in the sun's light, wishing for the cold air we wanted rid of now.

We sat in silence; the only sounds the occasional chattering of teeth. As we did, the sun slowly neared the horizon. After fifteen minutes had passed, she stood, stretching. Her body, still mostly a silhouette, but more visible than ever, was plotted against the distant sky, deep orange with the oncoming sunrise, the color leaving an orange trail across the water in the form of a reflection that shimmered surreally and seemed to point at her, as if she were the object of its attention and fantasy as well. I decided I was willing to share in this case. She stood there for a moment, appearing angelic in that poise, fingers laced together and arms above her head, stretching upward toward where the sky above was still dark, on her toes to accentuate this poise, then dropped her arms to her sides and let her weight fall onto her heels again, letting out a light groan of relaxation and rocking the boat slightly.

She took a few small steps toward the front of the boat, raised her arms as though she were a gymnast and gracefully leapt from the boat and into the water. I watched as she vanished beneath the surface, and then took in a deep breath, realizing then that I'd been holding it as I watched her stretch.

She resurfaced at the end of the net. I watched her wiping water from her eyes, then shaking her head slowly, disappointed. I was about to ask if she'd found anything in her net when she dove back beneath the water and swam beneath the boat, coming up for air a few seconds later on the opposite side, then dipped beneath the surface to check the net I'd dropped. When she surfaced again, she was near the front of the boat. I looked to her questioningly. She shook her head, then said, "Some, but not many. Not quite enough. Perhaps a few more minutes will suffice."

I nodded back, and then smiled politely.

"Can I help you out of the water?"

She smiled back, and then reached up to me with one hand. I stood, taking hold of her hand and carefully pulling her up. She pushed down on the edge of the boat, helping my efforts until she was able to get a knee on the same edge, then pulling her other foot out of the water and into the boat. She gained her balance a moment later, and we stood facing each other, the sun now breaking over the horizon's edge. I tried to look her in the eye, to keep myself from glancing down at the body I'd wondered about all morning, but my efforts were in vain. My eyes dropped, almost without my realizing it, and found themselves gazing upon her breasts, each small but perfect, each wet with the ocean's water, the rising sun's light reflecting off of the them, making them glisten in the orange light.

As soon as they'd fallen, I caught myself and raised them again, hoping she hadn't seen and knowing that, though I'd only caught a brief glimpse, I'd never forget the sight I'd beheld. She looked back at me, the corners of her mouth curling into the beginnings of a smile. I was relieved in a way; I hadn't offended her. But the embarrassment of my mistake was still strong,

"I'm sorry," I explained, but her smile just broadened.

"It's okay," she replied, her lips parting into a full smile, revealing teeth that shone in the bright morning rays.

"No, really," I continued, knowing I was about to start rambling uncontrollably.

"Really," she replied, this time, raising her hands to my sides as if to steady me. I quieted then, surprised by this sudden move. "It's okay."

I looked her dead in the eye for a moment, and then smiled in return, unable to resist her charm.

"You like me, right?" She asked, knowing I did, "That's why you looked at me that way?"

I nodded in return.

"Good," she said, "I like you too."

My own smiled widened, I could feel it stretching across my face and was powerless to stop it, and I thought I might be blushing, but I didn't care.

""So here's the deal," she began, stepping closer until her breasts pressed against each side of my ribcage. "What we do is between us. They won't trust us not to get . . . in trouble. Y'know? We don't have anything . . ."

I knew what she meant. Protection. We could be on the island for a long time, maybe the rest of our lives, though the possibility wasn't a pleasant one. We weren't capable of dealing with a pregnancy.

"I agree," I said, "They'll worry."

"But we have to be careful," she said, "Very careful. 'Kay?"

She was holding her head very close to me by then, her breath massaging my neck with each word. I nodded, closing my eyes to cherish the feeling.

"Good," she whispered, reaching up with one hand and caressing my cheek. I opened my eyes, looking down at her. She had her eyes closed, feeling the texture of my cheek as though she were a blind woman wondering what it might look like. I raised my left hand to her hip, settling the palm against her and sliding my fingers against her skin in a way similar to how she touched my cheek. I raised my right hand, settling it on the other hip for only a second before deciding not to wait. I lifted it to her chin then, curling my index finger and lifting her chin slightly with it, and leaned my head down, lightly pressing my lips against hers. She kissed back, both of us doing so gently.

When we separated a moment later, I looked at her and she smiled, her eyes wide now. The sun had half broken the horizon, leaving her in full view. I took a step backward, pulling away from her. She held my sides for a moment, surprised. I smiled and she let go. I scanned her body with my eyes, taking in every inch, making a mental image I was sure I'd be able to recall at any time. Her legs long and slender; her hips narrow but not bony; her waist narrow but muscular underneath; her skin golden brown; breasts small but perfectly shaped; her neck slender; her dark hair hanging just past her shoulders; her eyes round and gentle. I smiled, unbelieving.

"What?" She asked.

I smiled back and shook my head slowly. She moved over to me again, this time reaching down and dropping my boxer-briefs before standing to full height and kissing me again. My hands worked over her, finding her hips, her back, her butt, her breasts, softly touching everything they could at least twice as we kissed. She pulled her lips from mine and started kissing my neck, then chest. I knew where she was headed and invited it, my hands still working wherever they could reach, cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples, massaging the muscles in her back.

She kissed her way down, running her tongue down the center of my chest, kissing my ribcage, running her tongue down my stomach and finding herself just above my penis, then going higher again, kissing my naval. I held her shoulders then, gripping the muscles there and kneading them with my fingertips. I slid my fingers up her neck as she lowered her head again, this time to take me into her mouth. I twined her hair around my fingers, rubbed her cheeks with my thumbs as her head moved slowly forward, sucking gently, then withdrew, pulling her mouth away entirely and gently working beneath the tip with her tongue, just to repeat the process.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the warmth of her mouth as it enveloped me, taking me all the way in (not a difficult feat as I am only about average in size) then releasing me again. The sensation followed by the flicking of her tongue beneath the tip again. A few repetitions and I was erect. I looked down at her then. She pulled away for a second, smiled broadly and went back to work. I ran my fingers across her cheeks, brushing her temples with them and combing them through her hair, but never holding her head, not wanting to force her or restrict her in any way.

Once I was erect, she worked it more steadily, running her mouth only halfway down the shaft and back again, not letting me come from between her lips except now and again to work the spot beneath the tip again. I could feel her tongue moving around me within her mouth, twisting and darting around the shaft. After a few minutes of this, I could feel the end coming, racing toward me in fact. I debated whether or not to come, then decided against it when it was almost too late.

"Wait," I whispered.

She pulled her head back, looking up at me questioningly. I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Once I did, I looked her dead in the eye. She raised her eyebrows in question.

"I was getting too close," I was whispering still, knowing it was senseless but unable to keep myself from doing so. The secrecy we'd agreed to in mind, I couldn't bring myself to speak at full volume, as though they could hear our voices on the shore.

"That's okay," she said, in the same secretive way.

"No," I replied, "I don't want to yet."

I dropped onto my knees in front of her and reached around her again, kissing her as I had when we were standing. I lowered her onto the floor of the boat, intentionally choosing a place where bamboo had been used in hopes of making her the most comfortable.

Once she was on her back, I worked my way down her body as she had mine, starting at her neck and going to her shoulders. I went slower, taking time to savor each inch, doing with my lips and tongue what I had done with my hands, licking and kissing every bit of skin I could. I stopped when I reached her breasts, cupping one in each hand and pressing my lips tightly against the skin between them. I squeezed them gently, rolling the nipples beneath my thumbs, working my lips from between them to one then the other, licking the nipples, then sucking them, then lowering my head and working my lips in the crease beneath them. Once contented, I started down her stomach, stopping to run circles around her naval with my tongue, then dart the tip in a few quick times before continuing down. I glanced up, seeing her laying with her arms above her head and her eyes closed, her lips smiling and her breathing not rapid, but just a little deeper and faster than normal.

I kissed the bottom of her stomach, then worked on the inside of her thighs for a few seconds before gently parting her lips with my tongue and running the tip up and down her slit. She gasped then, held her breath for a moment, arching her back slightly and raising her hips toward me, then let out her breath in a barely audible moan and lowered her hips again.

I repeated it, cycling through the process, getting a little deeper with each stroke. After five cycles of the process, I decided to be more abrupt and dipped my tongue straight into her, pressing it in until my lips were pressed against hers. I held it in there, moving the tip slowly inside her. She gasped again, this time louder, and the moan that followed was unignorable. I drew my head back, planning to go back to my initial cycle again, but her hand caught my head as I pulled away and held it. She raised her hips again, pressing herself closer to me, driving my tongue in again.

When she lowered her hips again, I lowered my head with them, sticking to what she apparently wanted, darting my tongue in and out, then holding it in and wiggling the tip. Her breathing was gaining speed now, the its pace joined now and then by a moan or gasp. When her hand relaxed, I decided it was time to go further. I pulled my head back, withdrawing my tongue to the tip then licking up and down the slit again for a moment. I moved up to her clitoris then, pushing away the hood with my tongue and licking it lightly. She twitched as I touched it, moaning louder than before. I circled it, moving slowly and not touching it with too much pressure yet, then used the end of my tongue to rapidly stroke it. Her breath hitched when I did this and she started to moan again, each becoming more high-pitched than the last. Her breaths were getting shorter, a quick half-inhalation, then a pause, then a quick moan or whine as she exhaled just as quickly, then paused again before repeating the process.

I watched her. She held one hand to my head, pushing when she wanted me to change speed or strokes. The other was on her chest, stroking her breasts and stomach, squeezing them. I alternated, dipping my tongue, sucking and licking her clit both slowly and quickly, whichever brought about the strongest response.

Her breaths became more rapid, her moans louder and more frequent until I was certain she was about to come. Then, without warning, she gripped my hair with her hand and pulled my head back. I looked up at her, confused. She lay there, panting, her hand still holding my head, catching her breath. When she looked down, I asked, "What? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, smiling lightly, then sat up, seeming to return to reality all of a sudden. I sat up as well, resting my weight on my knees and waiting for some explanation or instruction, whatever might give me a clue as to what prompted her sudden actions. She reached out, putting both hands on my chest and pushing me back. I did as she asked, watching her drop her head down to my penis again. I'd lost my erection, my concentration focused on her reactions, but she quickly remedied that, taking me into her mouth again and working me into another one in mere seconds.

She straightened up, straddled me and positioned me with one hand. I sat up, reaching up to her. She used her free hand to push me back, doing so just forcefully enough that I couldn't refuse, then slowly lowered herself onto me, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply as she did. She settled against me for a second, and then leaned forward, putting her weight on her forearms, one to each side of my head, and lowered her head to mine to kiss me. I raised my hands then, wrapping them around her waist at first, massaging her back, then lowering them to her buttocks, gripping them with my hands.

She started to rock back and forth against me, grinding me into her, still kissing me. I pumped upward into her, doing so slowly, matching her pace. We parted lips, but she didn't pull away. Her face hovered above me. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face each time she exhaled. I slid my hands back to her sides, gripping her tightly there so I could pump more aggressively.

She let out a light whimper at this change, and then started to breath deeper, her breath striking my face more briskly. I could hear my hips slapping lightly against her now, the contact barely audible. It egged me on, and I pumped faster, hearing her whimper again as I changed pace. That motivated me to again increase speed, and a few seconds later, the sound of our contact was no longer barely audible, but a loud slapping sound, enhanced by the sweat that was gathering on us. She was moaning steadily then, getting louder by the second. I gripped her hips tighter, trying to push her down as I thrust upward.

She pushed herself up, resting her weight on her hands instead of her forearms, and I could see her breasts bounce with each thrust. I was doing most of the work now, controlling the pace, and I needed a better position. I slowed to a stop and lay there for a moment, catching my breath. At first, she continued to pump, as if she'd imagined that I'd stopped, and then she looked down at me in question. Instead of answering verbally, I sat up, my face almost touching hers, then pulled her legs around me and reached behind her back to support her with one hand. She followed my lead, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding tight as I lifted her, balancing our combined weight with my free hand and turned, laying her on her back and resting my weight on top of her.