Bessie's Island Pt. 01: Martin

I was captivated by her story. 'What happened? Did they die?'

'The first man she shot eventually did. My grandmother heard the shots and came running to see what happened. Bessie sent her back to the house to radio for help. When Grandma came back, they took away their guns and treated their wounds as best they could.'

'It took the Coast Guard hours to get here. My grandmother met them at the dock and led them to the injured men. By then, the first man she shot was in bad shape. Bessie explained what happened and turned over the men's pistols. Then she told them to 'Get these bastards off my island.' The Coast Guard took Bessie and Grandma into custody, too. They brought them back a few days later, after their investigation was completed. When word about what happened got around, everyone started calling this Bessie's Island.'

'That's quite a story,' I said.

'Grandma said Bessie was quite a character,' Christie laughed. 'I never heard whether anyone learned what the Germans were up to. I have the shotgun. It somehow survived when the house burned down. Except for when the Coast Guard took it, it never left the island. It's in a safe in a closet in the master bedroom.'

Shortly after Christie finished her story, we heard a loud rustling in the trees behind us. We both turned around in time to see a wall of rain rapidly approaching. In a matter of seconds, we were caught in the deluge.

On the hike back, we approached the cabin from the back. There was a small field between the trees and the cabin. Rain had filled a large, shallow depression in the grass between us and the cabin with a few inches of water. Christie started laughing, grabbed my hand, and started to run toward the cabin as fast as she could, pulling me with her. When we got to puddle, she dropped to her backside, pulling me down with her. Our momentum carried us about twenty feet as we slid on the wet grass.

We sat side-by-side in the puddle, laughing like a couple of school children. I'd never seen playful Christie. She was quick to smile or laugh at a joke, but she was always somewhat reserved. Christie got up and made her way back the way we came, got up another head of steam and plopped down, again sliding through the puddle on the slippery grass. I joined her a few more slides.

I stood and watched with a smile when she wasn't ready to stop. The puddle got muddy, making it even more slippery. On her last run, she slid much further than previously and crashed into me, knocking my legs out from under me.

She sat up and looked at me, worried that I might be hurt. When I smiled, she laughed, pulled up a handful of grass, roots and all, and threw it at me. It hit me squarely in the chest. Muddy water splashed my face. I retaliated by splashing her.

Laughing, she tried to get up and promptly slipped, falling on her butt, splashing me with more muddy water. I stood and offered a hand to help her up. But my footing was unsure and we both went down again. I stood easily but Christie only managed to get partway to her feet before she slipped again. I went down with her. I landed on my hands and knees, face to face with Christie who was on her back.

When I looked at her, she wasn't laughing or smiling. Instead she stared into my eyes. I couldn't read her expression. She reached up like she was going to touch my face. But the moment passed. She rolled away and got up.

We stood looking at each other. Her clothes were soaked and muddy, stuck to her skin, revealing her every curve. Her shirt clung to her breasts and belly. Her baggy pants were stuck to her legs. My clothes were no better. She pulled my face down and seemed ready to kiss me. But of course, we both lost our balance and fell to the ground again, landing on our sides, facing each other.

Christie kissed me this time. It was affectionate, tender and gentle, unlike the platonic pecks exchanged at the end of an evening at home. When the kiss ended, she said, 'We should get out of the rain before we get a chill.' Her tone was somber, distant.

This time we managed to get to our feet and make our way to the cabin. We stopped at the outside shower to rinse off. To my surprise, Christie kicked off her hiking boots and stripped down to her birthday suit. I was surprised and stood mutely until she told me to get out of my clothes, too. She spun around under the spray and rubbed her body to remove the mud while I stripped. She stepped aside, wrapping her arms around her torso while I rinsed. When I shut off the water, she led inside. We left our clothes behind, taking only our boots after pouring the water out of them. We were both shivering.

Christie took towels off a shelf just inside the mud room and tossed one to me. Once dry, Christie wrapped the towel around her torso and headed down the hallway to her room. I wrapped my towel around my waist and started for my room.

'Where are you going?' Christie asked softly, as she stood in front of me, still shivering.

I hesitated for a moment, not understanding. 'I'm going to get dressed,' I responded, though it sounded more like a question.

'We should take a hot shower to warm up and properly wash,' she said. 'There isn't enough hot water to run both showers at once. The shower in the master is roomy. We can share it. Unless you'd rather wait until I'm done,' she added.

I didn't want to wait until she was done.

Christie unwrapped the towel and draped it over her shoulder as she turned into her bedroom. I followed, studying every detail of her backside. I marveled at how tiny she seemed out of her clothes. Her legs, though not long, were sleek, the muscles well-defined. Her buttocks were heart-shaped and swayed only slightly as she walked. Her dark hair, longer than when we first met, hung in damp ropes to the middle of her back.

I was hopeful, but unsure of where this was going. A week alone with me on a remote island? Sliding in the mud like a couple of school children? Getting us out of our clothes for a cold shower? Then suggesting a hot shower together to warm up? By the time we were in the master bath, I was half-erect.

Christie adjusted the water until the temperature suited her and stepped in with me right behind her. The water was hotter than I liked but tolerable. The modern shower stall sprayed water from every direction. We stood in the warm sprays, relishing the heat as it gradually ended our shivering.

Christie handed me a loofah and a bottle of body wash and turned her back to me. 'Wash my back, please,' she said as she reached out to the tile wall to brace herself.

I squirted some soap onto the loofah and gently washed her back, buttocks, and legs. Though tempted, I was careful not to get too familiar when I washed her upper thighs.

She turned to face me and took the loofah. 'Turn around,' she said. When I did, Christie washed my backside from top to bottom. When she was done, she told me to turn around again. She swapped the coarse loofah for a natural sponge and repeated the process for my front. When she squatted to wash my lower body, she looked directly at my erection while she washed it, never once touching it with anything but the soapy sponge. When she finished, she stood, rinsed the sponge and handed it to me. 'My turn,' she said matter-of-factly.

I squirted some fresh body wash onto the sponge and worked up some suds. As I washed her, her areole contracted. The nipples hardened. I didn't dwell on the firm, pert breasts, just washed her down from neck to feet, only briefly running the soapy sponge between her legs. I thought I heard her sigh when I washed between her legs but knew it was wishful thinking.

Once we rinsed off, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. When we had dried ourselves, she wrapped herself in the towel and said, 'I'll join you in the great room in a little while. Why don't you start a fire?'

Disappointed, I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed to my room. Once dressed, I went to the great room. The rain was coming down hard, pelting the windows, rattling against the metal roof on the north-side. The storm had caused the temperature to drop. The room was chilly. I opened the flue and built a fire in the huge fieldstone fireplace and sat down to wait for Christie.

It was almost an hour after I sat before Christie joined me. She had taken the time to do her hair. She wore a heavy, over-sized, terry cloth robe that went down to her ankles and sheepskin slippers on her feet. She sat next to me on the sofa and pulled her feet up under her. I got a brief glimpse of her calves before they disappeared under her robe again.

Christie had her back to me as she stared at the fire, seemingly entranced by the dancing flames, listening to the hisses, crackles, and pops of the burning logs.

I was leaning back with my feet up on an ottoman, also watching the fire, though not lost in it. The sofa we sat on was oriented at a forty-five-degree angle in relation to the fireplace. Christie was in my field of vision. I watched her as much as I watched the fire.

We sat there quietly for some time, enjoying the heat. Christie spoke first.

'Martin,' she began, 'we need to talk.'

My stomach fell. I immediately dreaded the direction this evening was going to take. But I was also confused. Why did she suggest we shower together? Why had she brought me out to the island if she was going to break off our relationship? And why do it now when we still had more than a week together on the island

'O-kay,' I responded, haltingly. 'What should we talk about?'

'I need to make some changes in my life. What we've been doing isn't working for me anymore,' she said softly. 'You've been kind and patient. I couldn't have asked for a better friend. But I need more.'

I bristled because I knew where this was going. Her words hurt. I could feel my anger and disappointment rise. 'I don't understand, Christie. Why didn't you do this at home? Why bring me out here?' I asked.

Christie was still staring at the fire. 'I couldn't do this in Boston. I think of this as home. I needed to be where I felt safest, most comfortable.'

'I'm glad you feel comfortable and safe. I've been comfortable, too. But why did you drag me out here if you're going to break up with me?' I realized I sounded bitter, but I was hurting badly. I had spent so much time with her and thought I had grown very fond of her. But now as she crushed my hopes, I realized I wasn't fond of her. I was in love with her. Not that it mattered anymore.

Christie's head snapped in my direction. 'What are you talking about?' she asked. 'I'm not breaking up with you. I brought you here because I want to show you how much I care for you. How much I've come to trust you. Maybe I'm being a bit selfish, but I want much more from you.'

I just wasn't getting it. Looking back on it now, I realized I must have seemed hopelessly obtuse. 'What are you telling me, Christie? I don't understand.'

Christie turned to face me. 'It's time to move on. No, that's not what I mean. I want to move forward. I'm sorry it has taken me so long.'

Christie moved across the couch and straddled my legs, coming to rest on my thighs, facing me. She untied the belt on her robe, slipped it off her shoulders. It fell to her waist, though her arms remained in the sleeves.

It was my turn to be entranced. Christie was looking at me with obvious affection. I studied her face closely. I'd looked at it many times over the last couple of years, but I saw it differently then. Her still damp hair framed a pretty, almost elfin face. She had high cheekbones that tapered to a narrow chin. Her soft lips weren't full, but weren't thin, either. There was a tiny, faint pock-mark just to the right of the little indentation below her nose. Her nose began narrow, flared out slightly, then narrowed again before flaring out toward her nostrils. Her eyes were the color of honey.

As my gaze moved down, I noted her neck was long for someone so small. Broad, strong shoulders sat atop the slight torso that narrowed to a tiny waste. I took a moment to study her breasts. They were firm, proportioned to her frame. The round areolae were relatively large, the edges indistinguishable from the rest of her skin but for a difference in surface texture. The areolae darkened gradually to the nipple. The nipples were soft domes just slightly above center.

Christie reached out and encircled my neck as I sat looking at her. She leaned forward slightly, bringing her face closer to mine. Her tummy was taut and flat. I'd just seen her body, first in the outside shower, then more closely in the master bedroom shower. But this was different. My vision was colored by what I understood to be changes in the wind.

I pulled her robe apart to look at the rest of her. Christie had groomed her pubic hair before joining me. What had been an untamed mass in the shower, was trimmed narrower, shorter and neater. Her clitoris was visible, peeking out from between her labia. As I looked down, she rotated her hips, putting pressure on my returned erection, trapped inside my pants. She had her eyes closed when I looked up at her face again.

I leaned forward and grazed my lips against hers. Despite the heat from the fire, Christie shivered when our lips met. Though soft, it was much more than the chaste peck I was accustomed to. I ran my hands up her sides. Her skin was warm to the touch, but she shivered again. When my hands reached the top of her rib cage, I reached behind her and pulled her to me, finally getting to truly hold her close.

Christie fell against me and clung tight, resting her head on my chest. I heard her sniffle. My shirt suddenly felt warm and wet under her head. I craned my neck to look at her and saw she was crying.

'What's wrong, Christie?' I asked, wondering if I was missing something or had upset her.

'Nothing is wrong,' she said quietly. 'I feel happy. I haven't been happy in such a long time. I thought I'd forgotten how.' She wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her robe, then lifted her head from my chest and smiled at me.

Christie traced my jaw with her fingertips. I hadn't shaved since leaving my apartment. The fingernails catching on my beard tickled. A brief chill shot through my shoulders, causing them to jerk slightly. Christie giggled for some reason.

'Can I ask two favors of you?' she asked with a smile.

'Of course,' I responded. 'What would you like me to do for you?

'Would you please shave tomorrow morning?' she giggled. 'My father was a teacher and always maintained a conservative, professional appearance during the school year. But he never bothered to shave when we came here for the summer. He got so scruffy-looking. By the time we left the island at the end of the summer, I almost didn't recognize him. If he kissed me, it irritated my skin and I got a rash.'

'Sure, I can do that,' I told her. 'What else?'

'Take me to bed, now.'

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as I stood. Christie's arms locked around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. She kissed my neck as she held tight while I carried her to her room. I set her on the bed gently and tried to stand but she wouldn't let go. When I knelt on the bed, she kissed me hard. After a moment, she pushed me away and looked into my eyes.

'I want two more favors, Martin,' she said quietly.

'Really? Right now?' I asked.

She shook her head to indicate yes. 'First, get out of your clothes,' she laughed. Then, more seriously, 'Second, we have time, Martin. We can make love later. Right now, I want to fuck.'

That startled me. In the time I'd known her, Christie had never uttered a single curse word. I couldn't even recall a heck or darn. I stared at her for second, not sure I'd heard correctly.

'Martin?' she said.

'What?'

'For a guy that's waited a long time for his woman to agree to share her bed, you're certainly taking your time getting out of your clothes. You want to chance I'll change my mind?'

When I hurriedly pulled off my shirt, Christie giggled. While I stumbled around like a like a three-legged ox trying to get out of my pants, she howled with laughter. This was a Christie I'd never seen. Playful. Unrestrained. Uninhibited. Lustful. I lost my balance and fell onto the bed trying to get my feet out of my pants and underwear.

I landed on my back. Christie pounced on me before the mattress rebounded. To my surprise, the first thing she did was take my erect cock in her mouth and tease the head. But before I could even think about enjoying the wet warmth engulfing me, she released me, pivoted, and straddled my hips.

With one hand in the middle of my chest to support her upper body, Christie grasped my manhood and rubbed the head along the cleft between her labia. When the head passed over her clit, she gasped. After a couple trips back and forth between her labia, she positioned my cock at her opening and pushed the head into herself. She gasped again.

The pressure on my cockhead was exquisite. The warm, moist flesh felt so good I briefly feared I'd cum immediately. Christie held there for a moment while she took several deep breaths, then slowly lowered herself down my shaft until it had disappeared inside her. She grasped my hips and pulled herself against me, breathing through clenched teeth.

She stayed that way for a few moments. Christie's vaginal walls contracted and relaxed several times as she adjusted to the feel of me inside her. I savored the sensation of my cock being enveloped inside her warm body. She looked serene and content, eyes closed, a slight smile on her lips.

She spoke softly as she slowly lifted herself up. 'Oh, that feels nice,' she said. After a couple of slow trips up and down my shaft, the initial resistance was gone.

Christie's shoulders shuddered. The involuntary shake traveled down her torso and hips. She fell forward, still shaking. She kissed me hard. Her tongue pushed its way into my mouth and sparred with mine. Her hips began pumping rapidly, moving my cock in and out of her. She broke the kiss and sat upright again. Both hands moved to my chest to support her upper body while she rode my erection.

I was amazed at her transformation. The chaste, sometimes distant woman I'd spent so much time with had suddenly become so different. I remembered her request. She wanted to fuck. She was doing her part. It was time to do mine.

I grasped her slim hips and held them tightly, though my hands followed her movements. When she reached the top of her upward motion, I drove my cock up into her before she could begin the trip down. When I withdrew, there was only the briefest delay before she drove herself down. Each time our hips collided, Christie grunted.

Christie opened her eyes and looked into mine. The look betrayed only desire. I gazed up at her, then drove my cock up into her. Another grunt came out as she exhaled hard.

Christie held her hips in place as I repeatedly drove into her. Her face flushed red in a grimace of pleasure. When she gritted her teeth, I knew she was on the brink of orgasm. I increased the speed of my thrusts until I could go no faster. I struggled to breathe as I used every bit of energy to drive my cock into her.

Christie gasped and gulped, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes opened wide suddenly, her lips formed a tight oval and she cried out out loudly. Her body shook in my hands like I was shaking a rag doll. Her torso went limp and she fell forward, her chest against mine. Her hips began to rise and fall to match my thrusts. I felt her fingernails dig into my shoulders as she gripped them with all her strength.

I pushed my cock into her again and held her hips to keep it buried in her. When I pulled back to thrust again, Christie wailed, 'Oh, yes!!' so loudly I thought my eardrum ruptured. I pushed into her again and felt my sac get wet as her orgasmic fluids flowed down my shaft. One more thrust into her pushed me over the edge.