Letters from Blackwell Island Pt. 03

"You think having sex with another man as long as it's out in the open doesn't count?" Patrick scoffed.

"Look at it this way," I said, trying to summon up a scenario. "If you and I were trying to have a baby and it turned out that for whatever reason you're firing blanks, like you're producing no sperm whatsoever, would you consider us using a donor instead?"

"I... I don't know... I guess, maybe yes," he responded.

"Well, If that were the case I'd be having another man's sperm in me, and carrying a child sired by his sperm - is that really much different?" I posited to him. "I mean, how exactly does one define being unfaithful? The way I see it, as long as we both agree to it, then it wouldn't be unfaithful at all."

Clearly, from the look on Patrick's face he would be thinking things over very long and carefully indeed.

"I'm gonna have to go and ask Reverend McCabe," he said eventually. "He may be a Protestant, but he's still a man of God - he'll give me guidance."

"Of course," I said, pleased that at least he was willing to not completely dismiss the idea right away.

"Give us the car keys, Allie," he said as he stood up. "I reckon I should be able to catch him down at the church in town about now."

I sighed, and then reached into my Kīeke and took out the keys to the Mini Moke. And with that he took them and immediately drove off, leaving me alone with Angela and Toby.

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking that Patrick would react like that," Angela said after a few moments of awkward silence. "I guess Toby and I have become a little too integrated to remember how different people's attitudes are out there in the wider world."

"That's okay," I assured her. "But I hope you can understand that I'll go along with whatever Patrick decides - if he doesn't want to allow me to do this, well, you'll just have to ask someone else."

* * * * * *

The next couple of hours were an extremely anxious time for me. I actually wanted to do it, to introduce young Morton to the joy of sex (even if it meant doing it out in the open in front of an invited audience of friends and family), but I would definitely not do it unless Patrick gave it his blessing. But I wasn't very optimistic about that. But then, life is always full of surprises.

After what felt like an eternity I heard the sound of tyres crunching over gravel - Patrick had returned. I felt my heart rate increase as I saw him step out of the little car and make his way towards us.

"Well?" I asked him. "Did you manage to speak with Reverend McCabe?" I asked him.

Angela and Toby meanwhile, looked on in silent anticipation.

"I did, yeah," he answered simply, and he came and sat down beside me.

"And?" I prompted him.

Patrick sighed deeply.

"Well? What did he say?" I pressed him to continue.

"He told me... well, that I had to look deep inside me," he said eventually. "He reminded me that God forgives all sins, but that also He looks kindly upon those who help others."

"Was that all?" I asked.

"Well, we talked for a while about it," Patrick went on. "I gotta say, for a Proddy he's quite a good man! He told me that being faithful to each other can be interpreted in many ways nowadays - he said the way he sees it, being faithful is also about trusting and being honest and open with each other. And that as long as everything is out in the open and that nobody is going behind anyone's back, then God would understand. I note that he said understand rather than approve or forgive, so I guess he kinda left that aspect rather open to interpretation."

"So he didn't tell you outright not to let me do this favour for Angela then?" I asked him.

"Not in so many words, no," Patrick responded. "I guess the rules are kinda different here, so... and I can't believe I'm saying this... I suppose I'll let you do it."

"Oh, Patrick! Thank you so much!" Angela exclaimed, and immediately hugged him tightly.

"Well, I don't know about you two," she added brightly. "But I'd say this calls for a toast! Toby, do we have something suitably bubbly in the fridge?"

"Let me go check," Toby responded, and dashed into the house.

He returned a few moments later with a tray, upon which he'd set out four flute glasses and a bottle of Prosecco. With a flourish he uncorked the bottle with a loud pop that sent the cork flying off towards the shoreline and with a small cloud of vapour that escaped from the neck of the bottle. He poured out four measures of the sparking wine and handed us one each.

"To Morton, and to having good friends!" Angela toasted.

We all repeated as was the age-old custom, clinked our glasses together and then collectively sipped our drinks.

The rest of our time with Angela and Toby passed somewhat less tensely than when Patrick had disappeared for his session of spiritual guidance with the island's minister, and we sat and chatted out on the veranda sipping our drinks, chatting about life and love and all manner of things as we watched the sun go down. I always thought that Marea and Jackson's place was like living in the Garden of Eden, but Angela and Toby's place, though a lot smaller and much more modest in design, was like living in heaven. Especially if Toby kept the Prosecco coming!

* * * * * *

It was quite late by the time Patrick and I made it back to our little apartment above Marea and Jackson's garage, and we found a note pinned to the front door.

Jackson and I would like to invite you both to a family barbecue tomorrow - no need to bring a bottle, just bring yourselves!

We picked the note off the front door and went inside - tomorrow afternoon could wait, right now we had something more urgent on our mind.

As soon as the front door closed behind us we were in each other's arms, kissing with passionate abandon and urgent intensity. Almost straight away I could feel Patrick's hardness growing between us, pressing into my belly - I wanted him to pick me up and carry me into the bedroom where he would drop me onto the bed. As if reading my mind, that's exactly what he did.

"Fuck me, Patrick," I instructed him as I positioned myself on my hands and knees on the bed. "No taking things slowly this time, I want you to ravish me!"

"You want it like that, huh?" Patrick smirked, his arms crossed and with his stiffly engorged penis prominently pointing straight at me, poised and ready for immediate action.

I simply cannot put into words how badly I needed to have him inside me right at that moment. On all fours as I waited for him to take me from behind I looked over my shoulder and saw him positioning himself - it isn't often that we made love doggy style, but whenever we do it's always electrifying and animalistic in equal measures. I gasped as I felt him plant his hands on my back to steady himself, knowing that in a matter of moments I'd feel him slip inside me. He squatted down with his feet either side of my knees and his back arched as he lowered his pelvis down, with the head of his erection using the furrow between my cheeks as a guide to seek out my entrance. And then, as soon as I felt its drooling tip nudge the sensitive portal into my inner sanctum, he pushed himself into me and I cried out with joy as I felt his warmly solid length penetrate me deeply until I felt his balls kissing my behind.

I knew it was a tricky position for him to maintain, but he knew how I always loved the angle it caused him to penetrate me at, and how it massaged his male ego to be in a more dominant position. He knew however, that he would not be able to maintain it for too long before the discomfort of aching muscles set in, and so in stark contrast to his usual slow and languid style he rammed his hips into me with rapid-fire machine gun thrusts that emitted a rhythmic clapping sound as his naked skin repeatedly slapped against mine. We were both incredibly worked up after our talk in the car on the way home and it didn't take long before I felt myself being drawn towards an orgasm like a boat being dragged into a swirling maelstrom. And it was evident, from the huffing and panting sounds Patrick was making, that he wasn't far behind me.

The mattress creaked under us and the headboard banged against the wall as Patrick fucked me like I was a bitch in heat and he a big dog, in exactly the manner as this particular position's name implied. I wondered why on Earth we didn't do it this way more often, as it felt indescribably wonderful. For me, at least - I suspected it put more strain on Patrick's joints than on mine, but if he was feeling any discomfort he wasn't making an issue of it.

"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Hahh! Hnggh! Mmfff!" Patrick grunted with each and every thrust.

I was close, so very, very close - all it needed was just a few more seconds.

"Hahh! Oh, shi... oh, ffuu..."

I felt the vibrations from Patrick's vocal cords transmit themselves from his body and into mine, the primal growling oscillations conducted throughout my body, vibrating my entire being and eventually seeming to focus right at the very centre, tripping whatever hairline switch that triggered my orgasmic response.

I shrieked and wailed as I was consumed by a powerful orgasm - I couldn't care less if Marea and Jackson and the Twins could hear us in the main house next door, I wanted the whole world to hear how wonderful my husband was making me feel right at that moment in time.

Just as I felt my orgasm begin to shimmer away, I felt Patrick erupting inside me, flooding me with his warm semen, which caused me to flare up anew. His orgasm in me felt primal, visceral, and utterly euphoric.

With his rush of hormones and adrenaline suddenly at an end, he felt all of the lactic acid that had built up in his aching muscles and he slipped out of me and collapsed onto the bed by my side. He looked utterly spent as he panted on his back, his chest heaving with every breath and his still hard and gently pulsating penis slapping wetly against his abdomen. His face wore the satisfied expression of a man secure in the knowledge that he had serviced his woman, and had serviced her well.

* * * * * *

The next morning I helped Marea with the preparations for the barbecue. There is something rather odd about cooking outdoors in the nude - not least witnessing the spectacle of Jackson wearing an apron. In fact, seeing anyone wearing any item of clothing, protective or otherwise, felt odd now after spending so long completely naked. I knew that in a few months time Patrick and I would be returning back to the UK and Ireland to spend Christmas with my family and New Year's with his, and in all honesty I could say I definitely wasn't relishing the prospect of wearing clothes again. In fact, just the thought of being so constricted within layers of fabric was making me feel uneasy. It's strange what eight months of total nudity does to you.

The reason for the barbecue soon became apparent once the guests started arriving. It was mainly just a few friends and relations, but among their number was a young woman and her family, and I started putting two and two together. The way she looked at Aiden, for example, there was something slightly lustful about it. I didn't know if my eyes were deceiving me, but I could swear I saw her ogling him.

The girl was, of course, Merryanne Gray - the newly qualified vet for whom Marea had decided Aiden would be an ideal husband. She was stunningly beautiful - soft tanned skin, broad hips, slender waist, long legs, shapely behind and perfectly proportioned breasts. Between her legs was a dense triangle of pubic hair (the sign of an unmarried woman on Blackwell since married couples always shaved their pubic hair - ourselves included) and she had the most attractive face I had seen on a woman since I'd first arrived on the island. If one judges a person on looks alone, it was clear that Marea had chosen well for her son.

The barbecue went on in pretty much the way one would expect a family barbecue to go, but after an hour or so, Marea, flanked by another woman who was clearly Merryanne's mother, stepped up onto the veranda and called everyone's attention.

"First of all, I'd like to say thank you to everyone for coming today," Merryanne's mother, Ellie Gray, began. "As you all know, our daughter returned from studying overseas and qualifying as a veterinarian earlier this year, and ever since then I, with the help and support of my dear husband Marcus, have been looking for a suitable husband for her. Marea approached us and introduced us to her son, Aiden, who has recently turned eighteen and therefore eligible for marriage. Together, Marea and I have overseen their courtship over the past few months, and I am pleased to announce that yesterday Merryanne proposed to Aiden, and he decided to accept."

A round of applause broke out upon the announcement, and the newly betrothed couple stepped up onto the veranda. It was a bit strange that the young couple's fathers didn't appear to be involved (Jackson was still tending to the barbecue, and Marcus, Merryanne's father, simply stood beside him supping from a bottle of chilled beer) but then I guessed it was all just another aspect of the matriarchal society that existed on the island. I also couldn't help but note that she had proposed to him.

We all collectively raised our glasses and beer bottles to toast the engagement of Merryanne and Aiden, and I must admit that they appeared to make a nice couple together. Only time would tell however if their mothers had truly chosen wisely, but the early indications were clearly encouraging.

"So we'd of course like to take this opportunity to invite you all to the wedding," Marea announced. "So make sure your diaries are free for the ninth of October!"

Well the announcement came as little surprise - Marea had been talking for weeks about setting Aiden up with Merryanne, and the expression of unbridled happiness on her face now that her son had been proposed to and that he'd accepted it, was plain for all to see. Some time later I managed to catch up with Jackson to ask his thoughts on his son's upcoming nuptials.

"I know he's going to be a good husband for Merryanne," he said as he tended to the steaks on the barbecue. "Settling down will be good for him - it certainly didn't do me any harm."

"Don't you want something more for him though?" I asked him. "A career, for example? I mean, from what I've been told by Marea, Aiden would be little more than a househusband."

"He wouldn't be that much different from a lot of men here," Jackson responded with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "There are plenty of men who have good careers and trades here. In fact, in the old days the work that the men did was crucial for the community's survival, and all the men worked, doing most of the physical jobs whilst the women focused on crafts such as basket making and raising children.

"Nowadays of course, times have changed, and though the roles of men and women haven't altered since the Pã'ele people first arrived here, the nature of work here has changed beyond all recognition. Of course there is still the need to farm the land and fish the seas, and practice craftwork and raising children, but nowadays men and women work side by side and share the burden together.

"But being the husband to a professional woman is a good position for a young man like Aiden to be in. He won't need to have a career, his job will be to support his wife and keep their home ticking over. I mean, look at me - being a stay at home husband hasn't made me feel emasculated or anything, it didn't stop me from getting involved with the local parish council, and I've been able to indulge in my hobbies whilst Marea goes out to work. Being a devoted husband has been good for me, and it'll be good for Aiden too."

Jackson then leaned a little closer to me and whispered in my ear.

"Plus, he'll be getting a lot of sex! Merryanne told us she wants children as soon as possible - she'll be working him hard come the honeymoon!"

He chuckled as he returned to flipping steaks on the grill.

"What about Lisa?" I asked him. "What do you want for her?"

"Just that she's happy in whatever she wants to do," Jackson replied as he pressed down on one of the steaks, releasing a few drips of juice that caused a brief spit of flame to erupt from the hot coals. "She's a bright girl and wants to get into engineering - she and her mother have been looking into getting her into a good college, either in America or maybe in England. Then, if she decides to return here to live we'll have to try and find her a husband."

"Allie!" Marea beamed as she finally found time to speak with me after mingling among the invited guests. "Isn't it wonderful? Our little boy's going to a good husband for Merryanne, don't you think?"

"Yes, it's er, wonderful news," I replied with a smile.

"You will of course be invited to the wedding," Marea went on. "Maybe it'd even make a good story for your magazine. We're going to be having a full traditional Blackwell Island wedding - a church service in the morning, followed by a traditional Pã'ele ceremony. And of course, a reception party that'll be sure to go on long into the night!"

Well I had to accept her invitation on the spot - it'd have been rude not to, and I was of course in total agreement that it would make good subject matter for my magazine column.

The party went on until the early hours, and Marea and Jackson's garden was filled with happiness and laughter, not to mention prodigious amounts of food and drink. There was music, both traditional and contemporary, there was dancing and singing too - with Jackson showing off his talents on the karaoke machine. Being in amongst such a large group of people, all of whom were totally naked, would once have utterly disconcerted me, but now after having spent so much time here among them it just felt utterly normal. Once or twice I had a few people come up and ask me about my Ohana Mãka'u, and what the significance of the design was, and others commented on how handsome my husband was and how smart he looked in his Kani. And of course I was asked all about my magazine articles and how Patrick and I were finding life on Blackwell Island.

"Have you taken your husband into one of the Red Zones yet?" one relative of Marea's asked me.

I was a little bit taken aback about being asked if I had made love with Patrick in one of the island's areas reserved for outdoor sex.

"No, he's a bit uptight about it unfortunately," I replied. "We did do it out in the open over on Aina Ahi one time, but as for over here, he simply won't do it."

"He'll come around one day, you'll see," she assured me. "Once you've made love outside in a red zone you'll never want to do it indoors again!"

The party gradually started to wind down after midnight, and by two in the morning the last guests had finally taken their leave and the last embers of the barbecue had died away. Patrick and I bade our friends goodnight and headed for bed - it had been a long day, and yet another insight into Blackwell Island Culture.

Morton's Big Day

Today would be a big day for Morton Masterson - it was his eighteenth birthday, and he would be taking his place as an adult member of Pã'ele society. His childhood clothes had already been consigned to the bin and in a matter of hours the very last of his clothing would be ceremonially burned atop the sacred volcano to leave him naked for the rest of his life (unless for any reason he should leave the island).

Despite neither of them being from the indigenous community, Angela and Toby had both assimilated themselves into the Pã'ele way of doing things, which included adopting every tribal custom. Which meant that Morton would also be losing his virginity that day - and I, with Patrick's slightly reluctant blessing, would be the one to take it from him. To say I was nervous would be putting it mildly, but not because I was feeling any kind of embarrassment at having sex in front of a group of Morton's family and friends, but because I didn't want his body to let him down - I knew from experience what performance anxiety can do to a young man like Morton.