Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 01

Since we were a couple we'd booked a joint massage, and at our allotted time the massage therapist who introduced herself as Steph approached us. She took us into the double massage room set aside for couples, equipped with two height adjustable massage beds side by side. It was a room in which relaxation was the primary design consideration - the lighting was soft and muted with no harsh shadows anywhere, soft panpipe music played from discreet speakers in the ceiling, and an incense burner gently infused the air with the scent of jasmine and hibiscus.

Waiting for us in the room was a second massage therapist who introduced herself as Mathilde who had a definite Nordic appearance to her with her tall frame and blonde hair. Just like the rest of the staff we'd encountered so far they were dressed in white tennis shorts and a navy blue and white polo shirt. I knew Patrick and I were about to enjoy our very first massage together before our therapists had even laid a finger on us!

Mathilde and Steph instructed us to remove our towels and lay face down on the massage beds. For a moment I thought that Patrick might be a bit hesitant at baring himself but once again he surprised me by quickly shucking off his towel and draping it over a nearby towel rail and hopping up onto the massage bed, laying down on his front and resting his head in the specially designed hole. I paused for a moment to admire the view of my naked husband atop the massage bed, his shapely back and shoulders and his bare behind on show for a fleeting moment before Mathilde covered him with a large black sheet. I sighed, shucked off my own towel and laid on my massage bed.

What followed next was what I can only describe as an hour of utter heaven - we were liberally coated in lightly scented massage oil as our masseuses used their hands to work our muscles and ease the tension in our bodies. Halfway through we were instructed to turn over so that Steph and Mathilde could massage our fronts, and by the time they were finished we were both left there to lie there for a little while feeling the most relaxed we'd ever felt.

"That... was... heavenly," Patrick said with a sigh as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"I'll second that," I responded with a smile.

"I could definitely let you talk me into going through that again!" he chuckled. "How was it for you?"

"Wonderful," was all I needed to say in reply.

After a few minutes to compose ourselves, we dismounted the massage beds, picked up our towels and headed downstairs to take a shower and rinse off all the massage oil, as Mathilde and Steph instructed us. They explained to us that the oil would clog up all the pool filters, so if we intended to use them we would have to wash it off.

After showering we retired to the jacuzzi and spent a blissful half hour letting the bubbles and warm water pummel our bare bodies and relaxing us yet further. We were joined by a few more people, two women and three men, and it wasn't long before we were enjoying a conversation about the merits of the naturist lifestyle. Even Patrick joined in this time, surprising me with how much he'd come out of his shell since earlier that day when I whipped his towel off.

As soon as I mentioned that I'd been offered the opportunity to spend a year living on Blackwell Island our fellow jacuzzi users were in unanimous agreement that it was an opportunity of a lifetime that we would be fools to pass up on. It was pretty much at that moment that I decided that I would definitely accept the offer. Patrick I was less sure about - I knew he'd enjoyed his first nudist experience despite his initial misgivings, but the difference between spending an afternoon in the nude and spending an entire year without clothes would be a very different proposition. Still, I was confident that he'd warmed enough to the idea to at least not dismiss it altogether. But I knew that we would both be having a very serious discussion about it on the way home.

All in all, our first foray into the nudist lifestyle had been a resounding success - my own fears about being naked had quickly been cast aside, much quicker than I thought, and I really felt like I had experienced something truly special. The other naturists at the spa had all been very friendly and amiable and accepted us newcomers right away. As for Patrick, I hoped the whole experience had managed to at least exorcise the demons from his boyhood communal showering experiences at school back in Ireland. Even if he decided that maybe that afternoon at the spa was enough for him and that he would rather just leave his naturist experience at that, I was pleased for him that he'd at least got something out of it.

* * * * * *

"So, how was your first naturist experience then, darling?" I asked Patrick as he drove us out of Apsley Dell after eventually deciding at half past seven in the evening that it was time we ought to head for home.

He didn't reply at first, presumably thinking his response over carefully.

"I won't lie to you, Allie," he responded tentatively after a while. "I thought I'd hate it - I thought I would immediately get hard and die of shame, and I seriously considered backing out at the last minute. My heart was literally racing as we undressed, and all throughout the tour of the place my palms were sweating. I was literally on the brink of going straight back to the changing room, getting my clothes back on and getting the feck outta there! And as for the moment you yanked my towel off - I was about ready to go find a corner to cower in."

He turned to look right at me.

"But," he continued. "It was the kick up the arse I needed!"

"The look on your face!" I chuckled as I recalled the moment. "You looked like a rabbit in the headlights of a speeding juggernaut!"

"I was livid at the time, but I'm glad you did it," he went on, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"So, where does this leave us with the whole Blackwell Island thing?" I asked him.

Once again he paused to think over his answer.

"Well, after today I'm definitely not dismissing it altogether, you'll be pleased to hear," he said. "But it's still a big step, y'know? I mean, an afternoon at that place is one thing - after all, you can get dressed and leave whenever you like - but on that island you have to stay naked from the moment you land to the moment you leave. I don't quite think I'm quite ready for that step yet."

"So, you'd rather I turn the offer down then?" I asked him, feeling an immediate stab of disappointment that the dream was over before it had really begun. "I mean, that's okay, it's just that..."

"I didn't say I want you to turn it down," he interrupted me. "Just that I'm not quite ready to commit to it yet. But... I love you, Allie, and I know that if it was me that was being given a golden opportunity like yours, you'd go to the ends of the earth to support me. So that's exactly what I'm going to do for you."

"You mean?"

"If it's what you want, then I'll make myself ready to take that step," he responded. "I mean, it'll be one hell of a change in lifestyle, but if you want to spend a year on that island living in the nip for at least a whole year, then it's what I want too."

"Ohh, Patrick!" I squealed. "You'd really do that for me??"

"I'd do anything for you," he replied levelly, leaving me in no doubt of his sincerity. "You know I would."

"So, this means I can call Mags and tell her I'll accept?" I asked him, just to be absolutely certain.

"Yes," he answered simply.

* * * * * *

All in all, our first tentative footsteps into the strange world of nudism, or naturism or however you want to define it, had been a resounding success. As we drove home my mind was racing with the anticipation of upping sticks and moving to Blackwell Island and taking our nudist experience to a whole new level.

Something that was also racing on the way home, was my arousal. Seeing Patrick naked at the spa (and though I'm ashamed to admit it, at ogling all the other naked men there too) had caused my arousal to surge and I was feeling a primal need to sate it at the earliest opportunity.

It was getting on for eleven before we finally pulled up outside our little rented flat in Guildford, and as soon as we were safely inside and Patrick had locked the door I immediately started pulling my clothes off.

"Er, what are you doing?" Patrick asked me.

"What does it look like I'm doing, yer big eejit?" I responded logically. "I'm taking my clothes off."

"I can see that, but why?"

"Well, why not? We'll be naked all the time on Blackwell, so I say we ought to start getting used to it. From now until we leave for Blackwell I'm going to go naked at home all the time. And so are you!"

I was down to just my knickers, the rest of my clothes strewn all over the hallway floor, and it wasn't long before they came off too and I stood before my husband gloriously naked.

"Come on, Patrick, get yourself out of those clothes!" I went on, and immediately set about undressing him.

The fact that he allowed me to undress him signaled that he was definitely into it - I suspected he was probably feeling as turned on as I was at that moment. After all, he'd spent several hours among a bevy of naked women, and that would be enough to enflame the masculine ardour of any red-blooded male. Indeed, as soon as I had him down to his underwear, the telltale protuberance in the front of his pants immediately confirmed my suspicion. He was, and I'm not exaggerating here, massively erect!

"Oh my God, Patrick, that's enormous!" I said with a gasp as I pulled down his underwear and caused his fully tumescent shaft to spring free, lightly slapping against his belly as it was released from its confinement.

"Sure is it any wonder I'm as hard as this with a naked wo'an as gorgeous as you to look at?" he chuckled. "At least right here and right now, I'm definitely not embarrassed to be having an erection!"

He immediately scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me into our bedroom, depositing me on the bed and pouncing on me like some kind of rampantly horny predator. As soon as he had me right where he wanted me he began to assault my body with kisses and with his sensually wandering hands.

In the years we'd been together as boyfriend and girlfriend, and latterly as husband and wife, Patrick had become an expert in foreplay and he knew instinctively what he needed to do in order to drive my arousal to the very brink of climax. He always followed the same routine, and though it was always predictable it was predictable for a reason - it worked, every single time. After only a few minutes of Patrick kissing my bare body and softly stroking my nipples and rubbing his fingers between my legs I felt myself approaching the precipice of orgasm, and just like he did every time, Patrick sensed it and immediately backed off.

My husband moved his head down between my legs and nuzzled my nether lips apart with his nose. Extending his tongue he then gently lapped at my inner labia and the entrance to my vagina - oh, it was utter heaven! Just as I knew he would, Patrick turned his attention to my clitoris, causing me to gasp and shudder at the very brink of tipping over the edge and into an orgasmic abyss. Just as I was about to come however, Patrick ceased his oral ministrations, once again leaving my arousal maddeningly unresolved.

He did this several more times - bringing me to the edge with his mouth and tongue and then abruptly stopping just as I was about to come. But after the third, or maybe fourth time (by then I was past caring about keeping count), he finally let me succumb to my climax and I enjoyed a long and utterly euphoric orgasm that made me squirm and gasp and tremble and shriek out in praise of my wonderful Irish husband's skills.

He led me to enjoy a further three orgasms before I felt sated enough and that it was time I rewarded him by allowing him to enjoy his own climax.

"I need you... inside me... now," I gasped as I opened my legs widely in invitation to him to penetrate me.

Patrick smiled a smile that indicated that he was only too happy to oblige, and he repositioned himself. He paused for a moment and I looked down at his naked body - his penis was hovering just inches above my eagerly waiting vulva, fully erect, gently throbbing and twitching and poised and ready to plunge into me. A glistening bead of precum leaked out from its tip and dangled for a few moments before dripping free onto me. I looked back up into his eyes and my heart leapt as he smiled at me.

"Mar is mian leat, mo bhean álainn," he responded in Irish.

As you wish, my beautiful wife.

He knew the effect hearing him speak in his native tongue had on me -- I was so aroused it almost made me come for a fifth time right there and then! And then I gasped with joy as he gently lunged his hips and I felt him enter me. My body welcomed his warm and pulsating length inside me as our naked bodies were joined in sensual union. As soon as he was fully inside me I wrapped my legs around him, not just so that he couldn't withdraw but also to increase the angle of his penetration and forcing him even deeper into me.

His approach to making love has always been slow and sensual, as opposed to rampant and energetic, which suits me just fine. I love how he always takes his time and patiently works his way towards his zenith rather than hump me like a sex starved rabbit in order to hasten his eruption. They always say that men can reach orgasm much quicker and easier than women, and perhaps there is some truth in that, but Patrick is canny enough and in tune with his own body to know that by pacing himself not only does it make his orgasm better for him, it makes it better for both of us.

And so Patrick made love to me in his usual steady and languid manner, gradually and incrementally driving himself towards his orgasm. I knew how brief it would be for him - his orgasms always are - and that once it happened he would not be able to enjoy another for at least a couple of hours, but nevertheless I wanted him to enjoy our lovemaking so as always I began murmuring soft words of encouragement.

"Ohh, Patrick, ohh, my gorgeous Irish lover - ohh-h-h that's so-o-o good," I moaned in appreciation of his lovemaking skill.

"Ohh, Allie. Ohh-h-h you're so feckin' tight," he reciprocated as he slowly worked his hips as much as my legs would allow and gently thrusted his penis in and out of me.

I found myself almost being hypnotised by the sight of his treasured Saint Christopher's medal - a family heirloom that he never, under any circumstances, ever takes off - swinging to and fro as he thrusted. It had been worn by his great grandfather at Gallipoli during the First World War and had been handed down from father to son ever since. It was as much a part of him as any other part of his body - I've never seen him without it around his neck and I doubt I ever will. Patrick was not the most devout of catholics, but his faith was nevertheless still important to him, and though I considered myself an agnostic I've always respected his beliefs.

I reached up and stroked his smooth muscular chest, letting the tips of my fingers softly tease his nipples causing him to sigh and murmur contentedly.

"Ohh, Ally," he groaned above me.

He made love to me for what felt like an eternity as our bodies were joined. Time seemed to lose all meaning, as though the rest of the universe had slowed down to a gradual stop around us. Eventually it seemed as though everything around us simply melted away out of existence, leaving just the two of us together in eternal sensual unity.

But of course it could not last forever. Patrick eventually picked up his pace and turned up the wick - I responded by unwrapping my legs from around his waist and reaching down with my hands to grasp his buttocks. I always loved this moment when the urge to come in me was too great for him to resist any longer. I adored the feeling of his powerful gluteal muscles causing his buttocks to clench and flex as he thrust his hips and ground his pelvis against mine.

"Ughh! Huhh! Hahh! Ughhh!" Patrick began to huff and grunt above me.

The primal deep growling sound Patrick always makes whenever he's on the brink of ejaculating never, ever fails to turn me on! I knew it wouldn't be long now, and I called up at him to urge him on.

"Come on, Patrick, give it to me! Give me your cum!"

"Hmmf! Hah! Ugh! Huh!"

The strength of his exertion increased rapidly with every passing moment - he was moments away now, and he rapidly slammed his hardness into me.

"Come on, baby! Empty your balls into me!"

I wasn't close to orgasm, but I'd been sated enough already - this was his moment, and I wanted him to enjoy his reward for giving me so much pleasure.

"Mmff! Ungh! Hah! Ugh! Hnngghh!"

His Saint Christopher swung around uncontrollably as he rutted himself into me. Under my fingers I felt his gluteal muscles rapidly flexing and clenching his buttocks.

"Hah! Ohh, baby! Ohh f-fu-uck! Oh sweet mother of... hah! Ungghh!"

And then, with one last guttural growl and a final climactic thrust he erupted inside me and I felt a rush of intense heat flushing deep within me as his masculine essence spurted in a great series of pulses from his body and into mine. I looked up at him as he surrendered himself to the reward for his exertion. The sight of this wonderful man - my handsome, sexy, wonderful Irish man - lost in the throes of a powerful orgasm never fails to make my heart melt. Though I knew it would only last for just a few fleeting seconds, his orgasm felt to me as though it was the most precious moment to be privileged to bear witness to.

As always, almost as quickly as it began, Patrick's orgasm came to a gasping, panting halt, and unable to support himself any longer his arms gave way causing him to collapse onto me. I never had a problem having to suddenly bear his weight like this - I love feeling him catch his breath with his bare chest heaving against my breasts. After a few moments to collect himself, with his penis still gently throbbing inside me, he raised himself up again.

"Mmm, I wish we could stay like this forever," I murmured up at him as he rested with his penis still embedded within me. "I wish I could keep you inside me for eternity."

He looked down and smiled at me.

"It'd be a bit inconvenient, don't you think?" he smirked.

"Don't care," I responded with a grin.

Patrick returned my smile.

"Sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, but as much as my mind would like me to be able to stay like this with my cock inside you forever, my body has other ideas!" he said, chuckling slightly.

And with that, he reluctantly withdrew himself from me and rolled over onto his back beside me, his softening penis having done its work and glistening with a cocktail of his cum and my own vaginal secretions, flopped between his legs and slowly returned to its normal resting state.

Oh well, there's always a next time.

Accepting

The next morning I got straight on the phone and called Mags.

"Good morning, Estelle Magazine - how may I help you?" a young receptionist greeted my call.

"Hi, can you put me through to Mags McIlroy please?"

"Of course - who can I say is calling?"

"It's Allie Brennan," I responded.

"Okay, Ms. Brennan - I'll put you through."

I thought for a moment about correcting her that I was Mrs. Brennan, but I didn't get the chance to before she put me on hold. The tinny tones of generic hold music played into my ear for a few moments before there was a click at the other end of the line and Mags's voice greeted me.