The Gift

Half an hour later, we had a line rigged and we each had some clothes drying on a line. I tried not to notice Helen's underwear. We were both still dressed as we had been at the time of the explosion, Helen in black t-shirt and my old shorts, myself in swim shorts, to which I added a damp t-shirt against the sun, although I estimated remaining daylight at little over an hour.

"Come on," I said, picking up an empty two-gallon container, which had originally contained fruit juice. "Let's go find water. We'll keep to the beach, should be easier going that way."

I led off, Helen in my footsteps. At one point, we had to clamber over some rocks and I took her hand to help her. She raised no objections when I didn't let go of her hand. Twenty minutes easy walk brought us to a stream tumbling down from some boulders. I tasted the water. Fresh and sweet. I filled the container, but left it standing.

"Come on, let's explore a little upstream," I said. We clambered up through the rocks without any problems and came out in a little clearing between the trees. The stream issued from a spring in some boulders, and formed a pool in a natural depression in the rocks, before running away down hill to where we had come across it. There was a flat grassy area beside the pool.

"I think we should move our camp to here," I said. "What do you think?"

"I think it's lovely," said Helen. Her face clouded. "Under other circumstances I'd love to be here." She looked at me and smiled. "With you," she murmured in an undertone, so that I wasn't sure what I'd heard.

I looked at the pool, then at Helen. Her t-shirt and shorts were still damp. Damp with salt water. We were asking for itching and chafing if we didn't wash the salt off. I bent and picked Helen up.

She laughed. "Steve, I can walk. Steve, what are you doing?" she asked in surprise as I waded into the pool. "Steve!" she squeaked as I dropped her into the fresh water. She came up spluttering. "What was that for?" she asked indignantly.

"We're soaked in salt water. Rinse off the salt so that it doesn't chafe," I said cheerfully.

Helen looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "OK," she said, "but turn your back."

"Why?" I asked, surprised in my turn.

"Because I need to rinse these clothes I'm wearing and I can't do that while I'm wearing them," she said patiently, but there was a sparkle in her eyes and a half-smile on her face.

I nodded and turned away from her, lowering myself into the pleasantly cool water. I could hear splashing behind me and I could visualize Helen's slender figure. I could feel my prick thickening and quickly removed my own t-shirt and swim shorts, rinsing them in the fresh water and quickly putting them back on. My prick was still slightly engorged and I tried vainly to ease it.

"OK, Steve, you can turn around now. Can I?"

"Sure, I'm decent," I said and turned to face her.

Helen is lovely, and I have many treasured memories of her. One of my favorites is that moment. Standing mid-thigh deep in water in that black t-shirt and my old shorts. The water was cool and Helen's nipples had erected. Her hands moved and I think she was going to cover herself. I still don't know whether she stopped because she wanted me to see them or so as not to draw my attention to them, but she stuck her thumbs in her waistband and waited, a bright spot of color on each cheekbone. I turned slightly to help her out of the water and her gaze fell to my crotch. I guess I must have been half erect, just from thinking about her being naked behind me, and I flushed in my turn. A half-smile flitted across Helen's face but she said nothing.

"It's too late for tonight, but we can bring the other stuff along in the dinghy in the morning," I said. "For the moment, I think we'll camp overnight where we landed."

"OK," said Helen. As we moved away, she took my hand quite naturally. I squeezed her fingers and she looked at me and smiled, but said nothing.

By the time we got back to the camp, our clothes were just about dry. We cooked a quick but nourishing concoction while we still had some light, then set about organizing ourselves a bed for the night. I had a couple of synthetic sleeping bags, designed to be quick drying. They still had a touch of damp about them when I checked. I held one out to Helen.

"It's still damp, I'm afraid. Keep your clothes on, your body heat will soon dry it out."

She made a face, but took it readily enough, and we were soon settled for the night. The firelight was reflected in Helen's eyes as we lay beside the fire.

"Steve?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"What now?"

"In the morning," I said, thinking aloud, "after we've eaten, I'll dive again and see if I can get the radio. The locker door seems to be jammed, but I have some tools in a locker in the cockpit. I'll have another go." I laughed shortly. "That's if the blast hasn't jammed that locker, too."

"Can I help? I can free dive too, you know." Her teeth gleamed as she smiled at me.

"Yeah. Two of us might make the difference. But for now, Helen, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Steve," she said quietly.

I guess I slept, because the fire was down to glowing coals when Helen's scream woke me, startling me awake, then she was on her knees beside me, shaking me.

"Steve, wake up!" she said urgently.

"OK, Helen, I'm awake. What is it?" Her hand on my shoulder was trembling.

She pointed. "Over there. There's something moving," she said tightly, her voice strained.

I wriggled out of my sleeping bag and grabbed one of the torches we'd salvaged. The beam was bright in the night and the wild pig's eyes were brilliant before it turned and fled. I laughed.

"Wild pig," I said, "as scared of you as you were of it."

"Jesus, it scared me!" said Helen, then leaned against me, trembling.

I put my arms around her, as much to steady her as anything, then suddenly realized she was naked, just as she hurriedly broke away.

"Oops, sorry, Steve. I got hot in the bag, so I took them off." She laughed nervously.

I quickly switched off the torch, so as not to embarrass her, but the moon was near full and lit her clearly, silver and shadow in the moonlight.

I stared at her, mesmerized. "You're beautiful," I whispered, reaching slowly out to her. Hesitantly, she came into my arms, still trembling. As I put my arms around her she leaned her head on my shoulder. I loved the feel of her skin, soft and smooth under my fingers, and I stroked the length of her back, cupping her ass cheeks then running my fingers up the length of her back.

Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her head. My heart leapt, and I gathered her to me, bending quickly to taste her lips. Warm, slightly salty, trembling, but firming as the kiss went on, parting as my tongue went out, questing, searching. I could feel the pointed heat of her nipples against me. I brought my hands round and gently cupped her breasts and she shuddered violently.

She began kissing me frantically, burning little kisses all over my face, coming back to my lips, her tongue swirling with mine. My prick was stiffening, awkward in my swim shorts and Helen moaned into the kiss as she felt me against her. Her hands dropped to my waistband and she tugged at the ties, loosening them, pulling down my shorts. I broke the kiss and took her hands, stepping back and pulling down my shorts, my prick bouncing free, stripping off my t-shirt so that we were both now naked in the moonlight, reaching for her, taking her back into my arms, the kiss frantic now. I bent suddenly and picked her up, carrying her to a patch of mossy grass, soft, springy, laying her down. I paused for a moment, uncertain.

"Yes, Steve, yes," she gasped. She reached for me, her legs parting, urging me on with wordless cries, liquid heat in her cleft as I penetrated her, her gasps in my ears as I thrust fiercely, the heat building in us, higher, ever higher, until she peaked, shaking, trembling, a single exultant 'Yes!' ringing in my ears as I came, driving into her.

Gradually, we stilled, sweat-slick bodies still joined. She looked into my eyes and smiled slowly, wonderingly, her fingers stroking my face, tracing the shape of me. I bent and kissed her nose and her smile deepened, then turned into a grin. She chuckled.

"Yes," she said, "that's something to do while we're waiting to be rescued."

I laughed, but winced inwardly. Rescue? Maybe, but only if I could get to the radio. Aloud I said, "Impossible! You have drained me, woman, I have nothing left to give."

"Oh, not continuously," she said, pouting, "just as often as possible." She squeezed down on me with her internal muscles, laughing. Incredibly, I responded, my prick thickening, but slowly, very slowly. We kissed, lightly now, enjoying each other's taste. I tried to flex my prick and she giggled at the sudden movement, her hips beginning to move gently, drawing me on. The heat of her was building me up, lengthening me, stiffening me, and as I began to stroke my prick in the warmth and wetness of her welcoming pussy I came slowly back to full hardness.

I let my stroke lengthen, drawing back to almost leave her, then plunging slowly deep, ever deeper, into her honeyed depths only to draw back again and repeat the eons old cycle. This time it was slow, my erect tool caressing her internally. Her legs came up and her feet hooked lightly behind me. I bent my neck and kissed her nipple, then the other one, while her hand pressed me against her.

I lifted my head and she was watching me as I thrust into her, her eyes flickering over my face, warmth in them that I realized with joy was for me. She smiled when our eyes met and squeezed down on me. Her breathing was deepening, quickening and she began to croon wordlessly, her hands moving aimlessly on my back until she began to stiffen, then went boneless, this time her 'oh, yes!' a gusty whisper on a sigh as a rhythmic convulsion deep inside of her brought me, too, to climax and tipped me over the edge.

This time, we separated, and I brought a fire-warmed blanket to our mossy couch and wrapped us in it, spoon-like, her hand holding mine to her breast. I kissed her ear.

"Good night, my love," I whispered. There was no reply. She was asleep.

Morning dawned bright and warm. I wakened as I usually do, suddenly and totally, but made no move lest I disturb the blonde head cradled on my arm. I lay, just enjoying her warmth and nearness, until she stirred, squirming around until she faced me. She stared at me solemnly and then smiled, before leaning forward to kiss me gently on the lips.

"It wasn't a dream after all," she said.

"What wasn't?"

"Making love to you. It can't have been, because neither of us has any clothes on and my pussy feels wonderful this morning."

"It felt wonderful to me, too, last night," I said, kissing her gently.

Helen laughed, then wriggled free of me and threw the blanket back, to stand, arms raised exultantly, before turning to me again. She was beautiful. Slim, blonde, curvaceous, high-curving, deep-dipping beautiful. And a natural blonde, part of me noticed.

"I'm going for a swim," she announced.

"Why don't we move camp first, then you can have a fresh water wash in the pool after your swim?" I suggested.

She grimaced. "OK, slave driver."

It took us two trips with the dinghy, but we moved everything we had salvaged. The clothing we had hung on lines was dry, but Helen made no attempt to wear any and I was enjoying the sight of her naked beauty too much to suggest covering it, but by the time we had moved camp the sun was well up and showing promise of a scorching day. We had a quick swim together and then washed off the salt in our freshwater pool.

I looked out towardsNora's mast, and then turned to Helen. "Let's have another go at salvaging the radio," I said. "I'll go down first and see if I can get at the tools."

Helen nodded. "I guess we should. OK, Steve, let's go."

A few minutes later I fastened the dinghy's painter to the mast showing above the water. I must have looked a little strange, because I was wearing mask and fins and nothing else. I let myself fall over backwards and swam down to the wreck. The tool locker was intact, but it must have been distorted because it took me three dives before I could open it and get at the contents. On my fourth dive I was using the tank with our few remaining minutes of air. The saloon was an utter shambles, the locker where the bomb had been in splinters.

I checked the instrumentation in the cockpit. It was designed to survive immersion, but not a bomb blast, and a quick glance told me that I need spend no more time on it, as everything was either shattered or distorted. No chance of any emergency signal there, then, so our only hope was going to be the backup radio. I had a big wrench from my tool locker and I tried levering the locker door open. I couldn't get a purchase, so I swam back to the tool locker and took out a heavy screwdriver. Glancing up I could see Helen hanging over the side of the dinghy, her mask below water so that she could see me. I gave her a quick thumbs up and swam back into the cabin. This time, with the wrench as a fulcrum I was able to use the screwdriver in an attempt to open the locker door.

I braced myself and leaned on the screwdriver, gradually increasing the pressure until I could feel the locker door start to give. When it opened, it opened quickly and I lost my balance, spinning away and bouncing off the bulkhead. I quickly balanced myself, then stopped. My foot, and fin, were caught in the angle between the companionway and the bench seat at the side of the saloon. Normally this was a closed angle but the blast had opened it and my foot had become wedged. I tried to pull it, but only succeeded in tightening the gap, the sprung timbers working like a barb. The more I pulled, the tighter it got.

I paused, considering, then tried to use my other foot to press the angle open. Unfortunately, because of the angle I found myself working at, I couldn't exert the necessary pressure. I confess that I panicked for a moment, taking deep breaths of my dwindling air supply. The screwdriver, I thought, then looked around for it, my heart sinking as I realized it was out of reach. Oh, shit! What now? Helen! But how to signal her? Was she still peering down, or had she relaxed in the dinghy?

I offered up a quick prayer to the gods looking out for shipwrecked mariners and looked around again. The companionway down to the saloon had a low door leading into the cockpit, with a sliding hatch cover which moved longitudinally on the cabin roof to allow access without needing to be a contortionist. The cover was closed from when we'd taken to the dinghy for our dive. Gods, only yesterday! When I'd dived to the wreck I'd swum in through the doorway without trying to push the hatch cover, not needing the height. I could just reach the inner handle and I tugged fearfully, praying that it wouldn't stick. My prayers were answered and the cover slid open. My hand just reached to the opening and I waved it, making 'come down' signals to Helen, praying that she wasn't dozing.

She wasn't, thank God, and it seemed no time at all until she appeared in the doorway. I signaled her in and pointed to my foot. Helen is intelligent, and she turned to me, making spreading motions with her hands. I nodded and pointed to the screwdriver. She quickly retrieved it and braced herself to try and open the angle. Her first effort was unsuccessful and I thought she would have to go back up for air. Helen however was thinking quicker than I was and she pointed to my mouthpiece. Of course! I took it out and Helen took a couple of lungs full of air, then gave the mouth piece back to me.

Helen had bent to her task again, braced into the corner and suddenly I felt the grip on my foot easing. Cautiously I pulled back and my foot and fin came free. Helen steadied herself with one hand on my shoulder and pointed up. I nodded and she moved out of the cabin. Pausing only to grab the container with the emergency radio, I followed her.

On the surface we hung onto the side for a moment, then I boosted Helen into the dinghy before hauling myself in. I hugged her. "Helen, love, you just saved my life."

She looked at me, appalled. "That bad?" she asked, her voice shaking.

I nodded. "If you hadn't freed me, I'd have drowned when my air ran out."

She gave me a shaky grin. "Good thing I decided to keep my eye on you."

"Very good," I said feelingly. "Come on, let's get ashore and see to this radio."

My heart sank when I looked at the radio, because the waterproof case had distorted and water had gotten in. The thing was soaking. The battery compartment seemed dry when I examined it, so I took the battery out and checked it with a piece of wire. Plenty of sparks when I shorted the terminal, so the battery was OK. I put the radio itself to one side and turned to Helen.

"At the moment, the radio is soaking. There's life in the battery, and if we can dry out the radio, it may be OK. First though, we need to get the fire going again." I cast a glance at the sky. "The forecast was good, so we needn't worry about rain."

It didn't take long before we had a bright little blaze going again and I positioned the radio so that the heat reflected from the flat stones I had placed would dry it, but not so close that there was any danger of scorching.

"OK," I said, "now we wait." I glanced at Helen, still gloriously naked and watching me carefully. I looked up at the sun again and then rummaged through our salvaged goods. Among the things we had salvaged was sun block. I brandished the bottle. "Come here," I said. "If you're going to frolic about naked you'd better wear this."

Helen struck a pose, back arched, breasts pushed out. "You complaining, buddy?"

I gazed at her silently for a long moment. "For as long as I live I will remember your beauty here, where we found each other." I smiled. "I do not want to remember it covered with blisters, or peeling."

Helen grinned. "OK, you've convinced me."

It was fun oiling her, stroking her back, her long legs, rolling her over to oil her front, paying special attention to her pink-tipped peaks, stiff little nubbins betraying her arousal. When I had finished she took the bottle from me.

"OK, buddy, it's your turn. Face down, first." She oiled my back and legs, slowly, sensuously, her hands strong on me. When she told me to turn over, my prick was already at half-mast. She glanced at it and smirked, then began to oil my front. She oiled everywhere except my prick, coming teasingly close, but never touching. By the time she'd oiled everything else, my prick was as stiff as I've ever felt it. Helen sat back on her heels, capped the bottle and put it aside.

"Aren't you going to do there too?" I asked teasingly, having more than half an idea what she was planning.

"That's a very precious area to me," she said solemnly, "I thought I'd try a natural lotion first." She swung her leg across so that she was straddling my legs, then shuffled forwards on her knees. Taking my prick in her fingers, she guided me into her pussy as she slowly lowered her warmth and wetness onto me.

Reaching bottom, she stopped, sighing. "Oh, Steve, that does feel nice." She bent forward and kissed me lightly. She grinned. "Lie back and enjoy, Steve."

I laughed and raised my hands to her breasts, cupping them, rubbing my thumbs lightly over her erect nipples. She took hold of my hands, keeping them pressed to her breasts and began rocking on her knees, lifting herself up, up until I almost left her, then sinking back down, taking me deep within her again. She didn't rush, taking it slow and gentle, her breathing easy at first, a slim, agile woman taking her lover at her own pace, enjoying the easy, slippery friction of prick in pussy.