Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 02

* * * * * *

I awoke the next morning feeling much refreshed, but to my initial surprise I discovered that I was alone in our bed. It took a few moments for me to come around fully before I saw Patrick standing by the French windows looking out over the veranda. His shapely masculine figure with his broad shoulders and narrow hips was almost perfectly silhouetted as he gazed out over the tropical landscape outside.

"It wasn't a dream," I heard him say softly to himself. "I'm still here... still on this weird island... and I'm still naked, for feck's sake."

"What was that, my love?" I asked him.

Immediately he half-turned to face me. If the view of him from behind was enticing, as soon as he turned towards me and his naked body was semi illuminated by the soft morning light outside, it made my heart skip several beats. Patrick's naked body was such a beautiful thing to wake up to - his well toned physique almost glowed ethereally as the soft light highlighted his supple derrière, illuminated his manly chest and pert little nipples, and most enticing of all his penis, which dangled benignly between his muscular legs and protruded slightly away from his testicles nestling immediately behind within the protection of his scrotal sac. At that moment I knew exactly what I wanted.

I wanted him.

More specifically, I wanted him inside me.

Right at that moment my thoughts were of him and him alone and how much I adored my handsome Irish beau and how much I needed to feel his wonderfully perfect penis inside me.

"I... I didn't know you were awake," he replied to me.

"Come back to bed," I instructed him.

He paused for a moment, and just continued to gaze outside.

"In a minute," he responded.

"What was that you were saying just now?"

"Well, I just woke up and found that I was still naked," he replied as he returned to looking out of the window at the tropical paradise outside. "It wasn't a dream - we're still here, and we're still naked."

"Is that a bad feeling to wake up to?" I ventured.

He turned and smiled that heartwarming Irish smile of his.

"Not when you're the one I'm waking up naked with," he said.

"What Jackson and Marea said about those red zones pretty much freaked me out," I said as I continued to brazenly ogle him as he stood there naked before me.

"That makes two of us," he chuckled.

"I'm prepared to engage with local life and local customs and "go native", but I don't know if I'm quite ready to go that native!" I responded with a chuckle of my own.

"Well, at least we're both on the same page there," Patrick responded.

Truth be told however, I knew I wanted to discover more about the red zones, with or without my husband, I was simply just checking to see if his initial revulsion on the subject had abated overnight. From his reply I knew I would have to work on him, but there was plenty of time for that.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked me.

"Well, breakfast obviously," I began after stifling a yawn. "And then I guess we ought to get some provisions in and take a look around the town. After that I guess I ought to make a start on writing up my first article, and you can maybe take a few photos to go with it."

"Sounds like a plan," Patrick said as he once more returned his attention to looking outside.

"But before any of that," I added, adopting a more wanton tone of voice. "I want you to come back to bed so that I can take you for an early morning ride!"

"Oh, you'd like that, would you?" he responded with a smirk. "And what if I don't want that?"

"I'm the head of the family here, remember? Even though it's just you and me," I said, savouring my newfound elevated status in the island's matriarchal society. "That means I'm the one that gets to make the first move without being judged as some kind of sex-crazed hussy."

"Is that how you think of me when I make the first move?" Patrick asked, sounding slightly hurt at the implication. "Like I'm a horny dog who wants to hump his bitch at every opportunity?"

Hmm, perhaps this particular interaction wasn't quite going the way I was hoping it would go. I knew I had to try and salvage the situation. Perhaps I'd allowed the whole matriarchal head of the household thing go a little to my head. Back home in England neither one of us had been "the one in charge", we considered ourselves a team - equal in every way and with equal responsibilities.

"Aw, come on, my big handsome boy - you know I'm only joshing with you!" I said with a wanton smile. "And besides, who says I don't like being the bitch to your horny dog?"

He smiled, and I knew in that moment that things were back on track.

"Then in that case, wo'an, you can be a hussy with me any time you like!" he grinned, and finally stepped over towards the bed.

Clearly he was now getting into the mood for sex - his penis had visibly swollen and now began to lift itself clear from his balls.

He came and laid beside me and we kissed passionately with an ardour that escalated with every passing moment.

"Ní féidir le focail a rá cé mhéad is breá liom duit," he whispered in Irish between kisses.

Words cannot express how much I love you.

His words, even though I had no idea what they meant, ignited my growing arousal, and I grabbed him and rolled him onto his back. He did not resist me in any way, so I knew he wanted it as much as I did despite his earlier misgivings. Once I had him on his back I climbed onto his chest. I looked down at him, and he looked up at me, both of us knowing what was about to happen, both of us knowing what the other wanted. I reached behind me and took hold of his now fully hard erection, primed and ready to go into action. I lifted myself up a little, shuffled back a few inches, and guided the tip of his penis towards me. I paused for a moment, imminently ready to ensheath him, and I smiled at him. A smile that he returned in kind.

And with that, I lowered myself onto him, and gasped with joy as I felt his pillar of masculinity enter me, and I savoured the moment of physical union. I always subconsciously feel empty inside when we're not making love, but that feeling of emptiness makes the moments when he's inside me and we're making love feel so much more sacred and joyful.

Almost as soon as I was fully seated upon him I began to writhe and gyrate my hips, using his penis inside me as I would a dildo to stimulate my inner sanctum. Our approaches to lovemaking differ depending on which of us is on top - Patrick's, as I've mentioned before, is slow and gentle with plenty of foreplay and building up towards a climax - first mine, then his. My approach in contrast is much more rapid and impromptu - I'm usually well and truly "warmed up" already when I'm the one taking the initiative, and so things are much more rapid and animalistic - I guess one could almost call it savage in a way. Patrick confessed to me once that he secretly loves it when I take the lead like this - he said it takes away any pressure on him to perform, and he can just lie back and enjoy the moment rather than having to concentrate and make it as good for me as he possibly can. He also says that he enjoys sex no matter which of us is on top - a sentiment I definitely share with him.

When I told him I wanted to ride him I wasn't lying - that was exactly what I was doing, envisioning him to be a bucking bronco and myself as a cowgirl at a rodeo. The "woman on top" position isn't called "cowgirl style" for nothing! I love it because it puts me in almost full control, whilst Patrick enjoys it because he can express his submissive side. At the same time though, both of us love it because, gosh darn it, it just feels so amazingly good!

Yee-hah! Ride 'em, cowgirl!

"Oh, Patrick! Oh, baby!" I gasped down at him as I squirmed and writhed my pelvis around his manhood. "Oh, that's so good!"

I leaned forward and rested my hands on his chest for support, feeling his diminutive but pertly erect nipples under my palms. He responded by reaching up and cupping my breasts in his hands and tweaking my nipples between his fingers and driving up my arousal to a higher and higher elevation with every passing moment. I knew I probably wouldn't come before he did, I very rarely come when I'm on top, but that never really concerns me all that much - sex with Patrick always feels amazing even if I don't reach orgasm - so I willed him to come in me as quickly and as forcefully as he could.

"Come in me, baby," I implored him breathlessly after several minutes of riding him as the fatigue of sexual exertion began to creep in to my muscles. "Give me your cum, Patrick, my love. Give me all your cum, my big Irish stud! Empty your beautiful balls into me!"

It was a wonderful way to start the first full day of our life on Blackwell Island together - despite Patrick's initial uncertainty and shock at the previous day's revelation about the island's red zones, I could tell that he was actually starting to enjoy the experience of living a naked lifestyle. I knew I certainly was already.

Beneath me, Patrick squirmed and panted as he approached his climax. I can always tell when he's about to come - to begin with he's simply passive and allows me to ride him, but once he can feel himself approaching his point of no return he starts to buck his hips and reciprocate my downward thrusts with his own upward thrusts. That was the point that he had now reached, so I knew it wouldn't be long before I would enjoy the sensation of his cum erupting inside me.

And sure enough, just a few moments later...

"Ahh-h-h! Oh, holy mother of... hah-h-h! Oh, Allie, I'm... oh, baby I'm gonna... hah-h-h... I'm gonna come!"

Only a few seconds later he tensed up as though in some kind of mild seizure, and I felt a familiar primal surge come from deep within him as he erupted inside me. I joyously accepted his emission and savoured the moment as he lost himself to his orgasm. Warm pulse after warm pulse of his masculine essence followed and filled me with radiant heat, gradually declining in intensity as his sexual arousal resolved itself, and after a fleeting few moments of rapture his whole body, now sated, relaxed beneath me leaving his gently throbbing penis within me.

I looked down to where we were joined and could see the unmistakable sight of Patrick's excess semen that had leached out from me and become enmeshed in our pubic hair. I smiled as I looked upon that sight - it never failed to make me feel a joyful sense of satisfaction.

I leant forwards, allowing his now gradually deflating penis to slip out of me, and for a few moments we just kissed and held each other. We didn't need to exchange any words of love or gratitude - the bond we shared meant that no words were needed to convey how much we loved each other and how wonderful what we had just done together had felt for us both.

"I think you've earned yourself a nice cooked breakfast," I said to him after a few minutes of cuddling in bed together. "Let me take a quick shower and I'll see what I can rustle up for us from the stuff Jackson and Marea left for us in the fridge.

* * * * * *

Around half an hour later, as Patrick and I were washing up the breakfast things, there was a knock at our door - Marea was paying us a visit to see how we were settling in to our new home. I guess it would take a while to get used to answering the door naked, and also greeting visitors who were themselves naked.

"I just thought I'd see how you both are this morning and to ask if there's anything I can get you both," she said as she stood in the doorway.

"Well, I guess a ride into town would be helpful," I responded. "We need to get some shopping in, plus it'd be nice to take a look around the town."

"No problem - shall we say about ten o'clock?" she replied.

"That'll be fine," I answered.

"Great, that's a plan then," Marea said with a smile. "And while I'm here, I've got a couple of things to give to you."

She rummaged around inside her satchel and took out two bead necklaces.

"If you're going to be proper Blackwell Islanders for the next year it's important you both look the part," she said as she handed us the necklaces. "These are called 'Olo's."

The one she handed Patrick was identical to the one Jackson and the young man at the airport wore, whilst mine was similar to Marea's, only with different coloured beads to hers.

"All men wear a Kāne 'Olo, or "Men's Pendant"," she explained. "The three beads symbolise the three most sacred masculine virtues of strength, humility and honour. The, er, rather phallic arrangement of the beads isn't a coincidence, by the way! They literally are arranged like that to resemble a man's genitals.

"All women, meanwhile, wear a Wāhine 'Olo, or "Women's Pendant" made of five beads of various colours that represent the five feminine virtues - the first three virtues are the same as the male virtues of strength, humility and honour, but with the addition of the female virtues of leadership and nurturing."

She instructed Patrick to turn around and she placed the necklace around his neck to join his treasured Saint Christopher medallion, and then tied it into place so that the phallic arrangement of beads sat just above and between his nipples. She then did the same with mine, and once she'd finished she had us turn to face her.

"There, now you both look like true Blackwell Islanders!" she beamed. "Well, apart from your pubic hair - married couples always shave theirs off here. In fact, it's regarded as an act of reaffirming love and trust in each other for husbands and wives to shave each other. But I'll let the two of decide for yourselves if you want to do that."

She then reached down and picked something up from the floor just outside the door.

"And to complete the look, I've got you a Kīeke each," she said as she handed us each one of the little satchels identical to the ones that she and Jackson wore themselves - so that's what they were called! "Absolutely essential things to have - you've got to have somewhere to keep things since there's no such things as pockets when you're naked!"

We accepted the Kīeke's gratefully - they were relatively light but reasonably sturdy considering that they were made out of what I later found out was a type of grass that grows in abundance on the island. They were ideally sized to carry small everyday items around such as wallets and mobile phones.

"Er, Patrick, would you mind awfully just giving us ladies a few moments alone?" Marea asked my husband. "Don't worry, it's nothing secret, just y'know..."

"I think I get the picture," he responded with a knowing chuckle. "Women's stuff, right? Sure I'll go and see what Jackson's up to."

He dutifully left us women to ourselves. Sure enough, what Marea wanted to talk about was exactly what I thought it would be.

"I er, expect you've been wondering about your time of the month," Marea began tentatively.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said my period hasn't crossed my mind," I replied. "It's not the easiest thing to deal with in the nude."

"It's really nothing to be concerned or embarrassed about here," Marea assured. "The law here allows for women to wear either panties or bikini bottoms when they are menstruating."

"Doesn't that sort of draw attention to it?" I asked her. "I mean, I might as well walk around with a big placard with "I'm on my period" written on it in large capital letters!"

It all came as a bit of a surprise to me, but at least I now had an explanation for why the man at the airport had allowed me to keep my knickers!

"It might feel like you're drawing attention to the fact that you're on your period in any other part of the world, but things are different here," Marea responded. "The menstrual cycle isn't something that women here are ashamed of, it's seen as exactly what it is - just a normal bodily function. I mean, yes, if you see a woman here wearing panties in public it does indeed mean she's having her period, but people take no more notice of that any more than they would think, "oh, that lady has blonde hair". It literally doesn't get a second look. "And before you ask, the same is true of men having erections - it's just a normal bodily function, and nothing more. In fact, I know for a fact that Jackson will be having a conversation about erections with Patrick."

"How do you know that he will?" I asked her.

"Because I told him to," Marea chuckled in response. "I told him to have a "man to man" chat with him whist I had a "woman to woman" chat with you."

"So, periods and erections are sort of celebrated instead of concealed?" I asked her for the sake of clarity.

"No, not celebrated as such," Marea chuckled. "They're just not considered to be something to be ashamed of. Er, this might be a bit too personal, but when is your next period?"

"Not for another couple of weeks," I replied openly.

"Okay, well if you need any advice when the time comes you know where you can find me," Marea answered.

"Thanks, I'll bear that in mind."

"Talk to Patrick about it," she went on. "You'll find that the men here on Blackwell are more enlightened about women's monthly cycles than men elsewhere in the world, so it might take him by surprise that we're much more open about bodily things than he'll be used to. Likewise, women here aren't in the slightest bit offended if they see a man with an erection, so knowing that might help put his mind at rest."

It felt strange to be talking about something so personal with someone I'd only met the previous day, but it was good to have my concerns put to rest. I had genuinely been concerned about what would happen during my period, so it was good to know that I wouldn't have to stay indoors throughout my "monthly visitor". But the thing about it being considered normal for men to walk around sporting erections intrigued me - I wondered if I'd see any during our trip into town.

* * * * * *

At just after ten o'clock Marea met us on the driveway in the little Mini Moke ready to take us into the town. I had my trusty tablet in my new Kīeke for taking notes, and I was surprised at how it so effortlessly slipped in to the traditional satchel as though it had been designed centuries earlier with the foresight that such hi-tech devices would one day exist. I would also be using it to hopefully record one or two interviews with any islanders that might agree to talk to me about their lives on the island. I also got Patrick to take his camera with him to take a few shots of the town.

We hadn't seen much of Malmesbury except for the town's main thoroughfare the previous day, so it was good to go and explore its streets. It was a fairly compact place of narrow streets and alleyways that connected up several squares, and with the bright sunshine and whitewashed walls it gave the place a sort of Mediterranean feel. I liked it straight away, and Patrick seemed to be more at ease - perhaps like me he was starting to forget that he was naked.

We found a small coffee shop and sat outside under the shade of a large green awning. It had of course occurred to us both that sunburn would be a genuine concern, and so before we left our accommodation we'd both liberally coated each other with Factor 30, which ended up becoming a much more intimate interaction than either of us had bargained for!

It felt decidedly odd, sitting there as naked as the day I was born whilst I sipped a nice caramel latte with my naked husband and my naked landlady, and being served by a naked waitress as naked men and women casually strolled by naked.