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163 AUTUMN ISLAND
[A SERIES BUT ONLY IF YOU WISH AND ENCOURAGE,]

“WELCOME TO WHAT COULD BE, YOUR OWN ISLAND” Dougy the boatman said helping the agent, who was some-what green around the gill`s it must be said, helping me onto the pier from the small and rocking boat, the sun beat down, as the birds undisturbed for perhaps 10 years wheeled and screamed at us miserable intruders, I motioned him to sit for a moment and his colour began to return, he obviously was not a good sailor!
I took from the fishermen a picnic basket and threw them the rope, the boat instantly backed water eager to leave, the men shouting that they would return at 5 on the way back from the creals, whatever creals were.
My companion sat, glad the rocks were not moving under him and surveyed the rocky island. It was known to the local`s as old crag`s,’ three quarters of a mile long end to end, rocky, a haven for birds, and long uninhabited, the last inhabitant ‘old parky’ who had been enamoured of the peace and had lasted till 2004, he had been in the navy who had had a watching station up on the top of the cliffs during the war, he spent his last years here alone and happy, well that`s according to the estate agent, that hapless soul now slowly getting back his land- legs,.
I sat looking round, the jetty needed some work, it was a crude rock arm really, but 30 feet long and curved, perhaps only 6 feet above the water at full tide protecting the small bay from the worst of the winter weather. The whole place lay like a letter L the shorter leg facing south, the longer north east and the tip of the bend facing the Atlantic weather, the straight known as the Minches, oh and…well, America!
Most maps didn’t show this tiny islet, unless it was a navigational chart! The nearest land was over nearly 7 miles of open sea, mainland Scotland, a sea lock and a remote township called Fearnmore, itself linked to the world by a long narrow highland road
The tiny beach was the only place access could be gained due to sheer cliffs on all sides, on the beaches stony sand, lay a rotting and derelict wooden boat. It lay in front of the single small dwelling nestling in the crook of a tapering lump of granite, backbone of the whole place the highest point being away to my right as I looked inshore, the whole place begging to be explored. “You look as though you need to sit a while here in the sun, I will have a look at the place it not being that big and I will return in a while,”
I noted the look of horror on his face, and remembered the local tales of hauntings and ghosts that had firmly kept the locals from visiting. So I smiled and said that “I felt happy that I felt, I was, welcomed by the island and its spirits and I would be about an hour,” telling him not to eat all the buns, I then followed the short overgrown path towards the cottage, tucked cleverly from the wind where the rock had been quarried for the jetty and the house, built under the shelter of the shorter and lower of the rocky faces, I came first to a small stone built hut, well really part low natural cave with a simple brick frontage, tucked against the rock at the foot of the cliff, the old door took a little opening, but I managed it and inside found a fair size generator, along with two large drums of what I presumed was diesel, and some pretty dicey looking batteries. it was just as the old man had left it, untouched except for dust, I jammed the door closed once more, though what it was to keep out, other than the weather god alone knew!
I continued my walk to the cottage door, it was however locked, my companion still having the key, I cursed, peered through a filthy window, and appraised the building. The place, due to the sheltered position, was in a fairly reasonable, condition, if a little tatty, and needing paint.
A single story, stone roofed crofter’s style cottage, its back wall hard against the cliff, at that point only just at roof top height. The whole place was about the same length as the pier, with perhaps I guessed three fair good sized rooms.
An open-fronted shed in a like stone at the right I suppose you would call it a barn added at the right-hand end, and a small walled vegetable garden, way overgrown nestling in the crook of the two enfolding arms of this protective island, and shielded by a stone wall with a rotting gate. I noticed a pipe running from the end of the building, surprisingly in modern neoprene blue and running away towards the northern end of the island, some-one had piped in water, though from where, well that would take investigating.
I wandered on, on up the narrow path. just this one near overgrown path that countless feet had worn away over the years, and that led ever upwards to the observation bunker, I breasted the middle point on this windy island, still only perhaps 100 feet above the sea, below me the water sparkled and shone like tin foil under a wonderful blue sky, seabirds wheeled and cried, this crag of an island welcomed this gullible if happily well-heeled mug to its shores and I was sold…
The observation point was a concrete structure half buried in the grass and brambles, about 20x12 its thick concrete walls still strong if damp, it had sheltered perhaps two or three luckless souls from the atlantics wind`s and gales, observing and reporting on any wartime traffic, what would have been a terrible posting, to the few men or perhaps even wrens, as a lot of these posts where round here, for young folk, no life, mail and rations once a week and the only contact with the world by military radio.
However, it had been a haven of peace to one man, the old man known as ‘old parky’ from hidden away from a world he had come to hate, a world I had been told that had wiped out his family back in the town he had grown up in, victims of an air raid.
I felt perhaps a link, an understanding, stood here on what to most would be a lonely cliff-top. I peered into the post, through where a window had long fallen in victim of some long-forgotten gale, the door though intact was covered in brambles, the old man`s deck chair and binoculars lay awaiting his return, an early portable radio thick with mould its battery long defunct still untouched proving that no one had dared to venture onto this lonely rock. From here the whole island was in sight, the air felt fresh and clean, no fumes from traffic, no factory smell`s, no noise except the sea birds. A tiny speck on the glittering sea showed where Dougy and Tam, in the fishing boat were at “the creals” and below on the tiny pier, lay my companion in the sun, the mainland in the distance dark and for me a forbidding place, like some painted background on a model railway, mountains blueish purple against the bright sky.
I was sold, it had to be mine! A movement on the top of the grassy cliff`s caught my eye, away to my north perhaps another 50 feet higher, something moving something, white against the sparse vegetation, I leant in and reached for the old lad`s binoculars, wiping years of corrosion and salt from lenses, and the mould from the case, I peered at the movement following the thing on the distant headland, an a****l hidden in the long grasses beside a large pond, no doubt the source of the waterpipe. the a****l stood and ambled to the water, I could clearly see now; it was a goat, proud long horned, shaggy of coat, a magnificent white billy-goat.
I mused that this was probably the reason for the ghost stories, and chuckling I returned the glasses to the deckchair, I began my decent, returning to my companion who by now was his old self, a smile on his face, and proffering a sandwich from the basket and tea from a flask. We sat for a while quietly chewing at the fine bread and the ham, and contemplating this spectacular haven.
I asked “Do you have the cottage key?” He said he had, hauling from his bag a key that would was so big it would have not been out of place at the tower of London. We laughed and together, the meal over, we wandered to the little home.
That big key rattled in the old lock, the door creaked open, and light entered for perhaps the very first time in many a year. Dust lay thick, the trappings of the old man`s lifetime, books on shelves, the centrepiece of this big room, an old black-lead range, rusty and unloved, a big black kettle cold and awaiting its next duty, a Belfast sink, solid white, but filthy, a tap dripping constantly above it the only modern fitting, a single light-bulb in the centre of the room its shade covered in cobwebs. A stone floor, a hearth rug, a rocking chair and a huge solid 6man table with two benches the only other, furnishings.
From the kitchen, there led off a small pantry at the south end, rusty tins on shelves, home-made wine in carboys that once held acid no doubt for the batteries, a veg rack of huge proportions holding the remains of the last year`s crop, rotting black and gooey, still on the wooden slats more like a bad stain than vegetables.
We retreated, a passageway led along the rear wall to a small sitting room, an armchair and a tiny couch, a fireplace, and a tiny bookcase over-filling the place, little used, it smelt of damp, the harvest mice having taken up home in the chair`s worn upholstery.
Lastly, we came to the bedroom, at the end of the corridor, small, dominated by a huge double bed, and a wardrobe, with a matching chest of drawers.
His clothes were still on the chair back, just as he had left them the day the lifeboat had fetched him to the mainland to die away from his haven in some bright bustling and clinical ward far from his own peaceful world.
My companion burbled on about the solidity, of the building and the solitude, estate agent blurb, but my mind was elsewhere, already calculating the practical needs of this wonderful place.
After a time, we returned to the lunch box, locking up as we left, the place had me in its spell, and before the boat arrived I had made an offer for the place complete.
Within a few months, the old boys only relative, a distant cousin in Leeds, who had never even seen the place, or probably the old man, had the cash and I had that key and the deeds.
I decided to buy a boat, a solid lump of a thing 16 feet long with bow end wheel-house, an open body and a good reliable engine, I contacted friends and invited their help with the place, in exchange for a short working holiday, and then I sold up and sorted my business and so on, registering the island as mine and as the time had gone on a bit by now, renaming it after a what until last week I had thought a long-lost girl-friend. Her name was Autumn, now Autumn South who had promised to visit and see if she liked the place, the island would become my haven just as Autumn had over those long years since I had lost her, to the husband she had now lost in a road accident, and it being by now the Autumn season, it seemed appropriate.
By spring of the next year, I had everything ready, and with my friends Pete and Douglas and a full boat of the stuff we thought we would need covered by a big sheet under which we all slept, we set out for a long journey up the coast to the nearest point to the island, the sea loch of Fearnmore. That took near a week, then a gale held us up in a pub for a couple of days So, the arrival at the sea loch was, both later than we expected and a relief. Luckily, we are all good sailors, we stayed overnight in the hotel then on at last, on a bright and calm day in March we set foot back on this my island.
Pete had made a sign which he promptly planted on the beach, it said welcome to Autumn island, it was to become my home, my castle and literally my rock.
We cleaned that old house within an inch of its life, the mice were evicted along with their home, the tins removed, walls painted, outside painted a fetching weatherproof cream, a contrasting green door with white window frames. A fuel tank in the Generator house that could be pump filled from ‘Jenny’ our newly christened boat, (named by Pete`s after his wife who he said was reliable strong and wide). I couldn’t comment on that… That saved humping heavy barrels. Hinges were oiled the stove blackened. Rocky another friend arrived in his pick-up, at the mainland port, the four of us loaded my desk, bags of coal, box upon box of food, tinned and dry, my computer, and my writing, and art equipment and a new generator, the old one being more than a little unreliable!
Getting it all aboard with the little fisherman`s derrick at Fearnmore was hard, getting it off again on our tiny beach between tides a bloody nightmare! Doug had suffered with, a problem tummy, and the rain one night we had used a bucket in the Genny room till then, but having found the tiny room we had thought of on arrival as a cupboard, until we opened it to find an old style but serviceable toilet, dry and un-useable. Doug being Doug cleared the pipe from this tiny toilet to the south side of the jetty, re-piped the fresh water supply and soon had it working once more. It became a godsend on a cold wet windy night`s believe me. Pete being a technically minded chap, fixed up the computer in the room that had been the sitting room now designated the office, served by one of those magic wireless links that I have no clue about. He also fitted short wave radio so we had two forms of communication.
By the end of fortnight working on the place, I had to say goodbye to my friends, thanking them profusely, I took them ashore, we pottered over in ‘Jenny’ and we had a sad fair-well dram together in the hotel bar, it was with regret I watched them go, musing that it`s not every-one who would leave home for best part of a month to help a friend they may never see again, or at best once a year on holiday., The old pick up now relieved of the load it had fetched, roared away, tools and suitcases bouncing in the back, the local road giving the springs a hard-time as they left me, arms waving cheerfully.
I collected my mail and some essentials from the shop, cranked up the engine, then untied “Jenny” and alone now, set off back to autumn island. I was alone totally, gone the merry banter, the ready whit, the simple friendship, my footstep`s sounded hollow on the stones, as I humped my shopping indoors, reality struck, I was very much on my own.
The next morning as is my norm I was up with the light, I would have said sun, but it was grey and damp,
I breakfasted and then on my messaging service I wrote yet another message to Autumn.
Autumn had been my girlfriend for a while some years ago, and then by chance we had met just as I was about to depart for the island. We exchanged letters and now e mails, renewing an old contact She had been less than impressed with me in her words “shutting myself off” up here, however, she had, I suspected reluctantly, agreed to visit, and stay for a while, starting in a week “if I would meet her from the train at our nearest station…” that being a hundred or something like miles round trip, away over highland roads, she had not taken into account, but she was a town girl, everything and everything reached by bus in under an hour…she was down for an education!
It felt such an exciting adventure for me, leaving all my friends and familiar territory far behind and coming out to who knows where. As yet, I was undecided for how long I would stay.
I felt a little overdressed in my light summer dress and heels and couldn't help notice a few admiring glances as I was in the train. I was imagining all sorts of scenarios when I met up with my darling joe.... what would he be expecting from me and just as important what could I expect, well hope, to get from him, would he be the vigorous lover of long ago, and would he satisfy my needs.

She arrived at Strathcarron station at 2 in the afternoon, I met her with the only hire car from the garage in the village, an old Austin Cambridge.
She looked as delicious as ever- you simply don't forget a woman like Autumn. 5'4" of pure oozing sexuality. Now in her 40's with a lovely well-proportioned and slightly more curvy body than I recalled and larger breasts to die for, she was everything I had dreamed. We kissed, her lips hot on mine telling me how much she had missed me, I came near to tearing off her clothes there in that tiny exposed station yard!
“I needn't have worried as seeing you again after all this time the years just melted away. Your manly embrace felt wonderful as we kissed for the first time in so long but I hadn't forgotten how good it felt. I looked at you and absorbed the wonderful sight of your smiling tanned face and your arms were as strong as ever. Your sandy unkempt hair was a little longer now and had started to turn a little grey at the temples but you looked so handsome as we laughed in our embrace. As we embraced it seemed like our time apart, those many years just seemed to evaporate, into the mist. I had thought about you so often and without realising it, you had played a big part in my life, you were like a soul mate to me in the real sense of the word... you know everything about me in a way that led me to expose my true desires to you many years ago, back when we were in our 30's.

My wonderful marriage had been cruelly and abruptly cut short and although I loved my husband, I somehow couldn't shake the image of your rugged features and hard body from my mind. We had so much history my love.... I often think where did the time go, were you happy without me I wondered? I knew I missed you so desperately and sex had been meaningless without you.”

Anyway, off we set, plodding up the A road which she remarked on as “narrow,” I chuckled, and after a number of miles we turned onto an even narrower road, much to her surprise! it took a good time as she insisted on me stopping to let her take pictures the road being so scenic. On the road, we talked;
“I can't begin to tell you how delighted I am to see you again after all these years Joe. You hardly look any different and the years have been so kind to you. I can tell you have kept your wonderful body in good physical shape and I guess that's one of the things I always loved about you. In fact, your sandy coloured hair looks a little more distinguished now with the greying temples. I've missed you so much Joe and I was so pleased to hear a voice from the past after all this time. Well you know I'm just turned 45 now, just a couple of years younger than you, but I'm so pleased to see you have not only retained your lean sinewy body, and it`s still in fairly-good shape, but that you've kept that wonderful twinkle in your eyes.
We laughed when I said she “didn’t look too bad herself and not gone to seed yet!”
Grinning she went on; After my husband died I had found solace in the arms of a good many men and even a couple of women as well but they just wanted so much less than me Joe I just wasn't fulfilled, my lover, no one ever measured up to you especially as you knew all about my 'darker side ' on my journey through life, and made allowances.
My life had become humdrum spending too much time on hedonistic pleasures, shopping and pampering myself as I desperately searched for something different. I had even employed the services of a 'Master' to punish my many sins but he still left me wanting more and I still needed fulfilment.
When I met and then heard from you it came like a bolt out of the blue.... the letters then the E mails, wow it was like a bolt from the blue, but when you said you were becoming a hermit, I was so sad, and I read your invitation with a mix of trepidation excitement and not a little fear, both about the prospect of seeing you again after all these years, and of your lifestyle. It sent me wondering what you might make of me now I had grown older and shall we say 'curvier' and more decadent.
I said; that my lifestyle was different, that couldn’t be denied, but it may give her either a shock or she may love it just tackle it with an open mind is all I asked.
She rambled on; I remembered you used to enjoy big breasts and mine are certainly bigger these days and perhaps not so pert. I'm surely praying you will enjoy me once more as we did in the old days.
We arrived at the boat and I dropped her and the inevitable cases, returning the car to Tam`s garage, and then walking back in the light breeze that was turning the water just into a light swell. ‘Jenny’ coughed then purred as always, and Autumn stepped aboard lightly, after passing me the cases from the landing stage, we purred away, my lady friend sitting at my side, watching intently as my island slowly oh so slowly appeared in our windscreen. Her eyes wide with surprise at the island landscape bathed now in the glow of the sunset a picture to behold.
The tide was high as the sand ground against our keel and we beached in the tiny bay.
I tied the headrope, waded ashore, with cases, and a box of groceries that had been delivered to the boat by Tam during the day, then returned to Autumn, and like a groom with his bride carried her up to the dry sand.
Leaving her, I untied and pulled the boat by the rope pully out to her buoy. I led her to the cottage in the fast fading light, “take the suitcases into the house,” I told her “and I will start the Genny,” I soon had the thing put, put, puttering, and the lighting working. Lighting the pre-laid fire and brewing tea in the near new electric kettle. She asked for the bathroom and I pointed to the cupboard sized toilet, she laughed, went and used the facilities, returning and saying, “sink?” I pointed to the Belfast sink with its single cold tap, she laughed again that silver laugh that I had missed so much these last few months.
I explained that “the water came ‘from a local source’ and that drinking the stuff was not safe till it had been boiled” and she smiled then fetching her wash things, had a wash of her face and hands, while I made tea and sandwiches. We then sat in the fires glow eating our meal, and waiting the little room to warm.
“She had missed me” she whispered …” I've so much to tell you Joe and I guess some of it isn't particularly the things you will want to hear but I am determined you will know me properly. I suppose I'm looking for something different in my life now and it would be wonderful to spend some time with you in such an interesting place that I can tell you, and I know you can keep a secret!
You have worked hard I can see from the pictures you sent, to make this hospitable as your new home and I'm delighted to be asked to stay on here as your first real guest with you on this your magical island.
I'm sure it will give us a chance to compare our life's journey, but I do ask that you have patience with me and give me a little breathing space. I'm sure you will probably want to share and explore my older more, well, curvy body like you once did so often, but I do need to tell you that you might find some changes that I hope won't disturb you too much, Joe, I have scars on my body now that will be new to you and perhaps as you explore my abused body you will find it has been violated by a master of the belt and for reasons that you know only too well I have been a willing participant! It happened not just once but on quite a lot of times, mostly at my own request and this has left permanent marks on the body you once thought beautiful. I will tell you about it all soon I promise but please, for now my lover, please , just don’t judge me and let's enjoy this break together, I am making no promises other than I shall always be your lover.
In reply, I switched out the harsh light and we slumped to our knees in a mutual embrace, then to the floor, the big hearth rug keeping off the chill as the firelight danced on the walls of the room, all cosy warmth and soft light, her lips on mine we rolled onto our sides, hands exploring clothes, buttons loosening, zips opening. White underclothes lacy and brief, fluttered to the floor, silky smooth stockings rubbing on my now bare leg, breasts all soft, pink and stiff nipples, her hand on my erect member, groans of ecstatic joy, whispers of sweet nothings, more kisses, then that blissful moment of first contact. Her wetness on fingers, her clit stiffly erect, groans of lust, rolling myself up onto her body, kissing her pale neck, chewing at her pretty ear lobes. My rigid penis was desperate to seek out the pleasures only this woman could ever really give me and I guided my blood engorged cockhead into a position to mount the soft wet folds of her once familiar body, it was like coming home!
Of her mark`s, on her damaged body I had no thoughts, she could have had both tits missing and a false foot at that precise moment in time, I would not have noticed, Feeling for the target. Suddenly my veined sexual controller, my old penis my sometimes comforter, sometimes master, found its true goal, its home, it had been years since I was last been deep inside this sexy body, like a homecoming, my prick easily slid into her receptive crevice, more than ready to penetrate her soft flesh, my stiff invader, eager to fill warm her wet gentle muscles massaging my rigid tool like so many years before, her vaginal canal I noted, was not as tight as perhaps it once was and the thought of how many men and she had said women too, have enjoyed the privilege of fucking her in the intervening years to have experience the pleasures that were once exclusively mine. I was deeply aroused by that thought and I thrust harder into her soft flesh after a gentle start, both of us knowing things would soon be a dance of a different style. Slowly the pace increases, we were lost in our own world
She encouraging me, urging me onward, begging me to go deeper, harder, arms clasping my body, teeth nipping at my throat, my shoulders, my neck, as we became so infatuated, so; as one, for us nothing else had meaning, nothing, it was us, just us, not her, nor me, her past or mine, nor the island or the world, just the complete and conjoined, ‘us’. We were swept away by the emotions of the moment. Speed had increased as had the force of the stroke, her hips rising eagerly to meet my every thrust, the pace ever quickening, we were on auto pilot now, the final furlong. Who knows what we did, the fierce thrusting of hips the savage coming together of our pubic bones, the depth of thrust, payback perhaps for us drifting apart all that time ago, together we hit the top note, her breathing now in gasps, pants, and groans her eyes rolling, no doubt mine doing the same, hearts thumping, the final push and she stayed, hips up well off the floor as the seed sprayed from me copiously, linking us as only seed ever can, deep and filling. Slowly we sagged to the soft rug, still welded as one but collapsed, exhausted by the massive effort.
We lay sated for the moment, firelight showing on her face a soft glow of joy, as I rolled away to relieve the aching knees, and shoulders so long ignored in our dance of lust on this unrelenting surface. Years of waiting sated, at least for the moment.
Our forgotten sandwiches, and cold tea awaited. We made fresh drinks, and eagerly fed the inner man, she said she was exhausted 15 hours of travel and a good screwing had taken her strength, so I showed her the rest of the cottage, she laughing at the double bed, realising there was no other and saying I had presumed a lot!
I said with a smile “I was right though wasn`t I!” Then laughing we were soon in that bed wrapped in one another like ying & yang, tired but emotionally sated, we surrendered soon to sleep, too tired to even have sex again, exhausted by the travel the excitement and by the emotions, knowing we would have a tomorrow together, just revelling in that closeness, both waking at intervals and allowing our hands to wander, just to prove to ourselves we were real and not some fabulous fantasy, just in need of this closeness and companionship.
Sometime in the early hours, not believing my luck at having this lovely woman here with me, my hands sliding over soft skin, like a blind man reading her contours, her backside once virgin territory, smooth, pert and tight, I found, had enlarged itself a little, but it was expected, as age does that and though not excessive it enhanced her pretty shape. But there was something amiss, across the smooth skin, a couple of long deep scars, marks like the first ploughed furrows across a fallow field. Whoever had put them there had been savage, brutal even and right handed as they were deeper on that cheek, ghastly blemishes on her pale beauty.
Spurred on I began to explore, she lay on her front, head on one side gently snoring into the pillow, left arm curled round her head, her right down beside her, a smile of contentment on her face as a beam of silver moonlight illuminated her lovely body. I smiled, the old room lit as it was by this clean, bright light of a near full moon, with a pretty lady here in the bed in this remote cottage, it reminded me of the set for an old B horror movie.
I examined her scarred back, more cruel marks on her shoulders, more, fainter, on her lower back, thighs and those terrible furrows on that once perfect backside showed how some cruel bastard had misused her badly in the time we had been apart. A rage ran through me, knowing that if fate had not pried us apart all that time ago we would have been together and I would have never let her suffer like this at another man`s hand. I have a sadistic streak myself, I know that, but this was inflicted by a man I had never met…and I hated that, she was mine, in my mind I knew she had always been mine…
I instantly knew I was still deeply in love with this wonderful creature. After we had re-met, at that distance I had had a few doubts, was it just infatuation, or the need for sex pure and simple, was I just after another bite of this lovely cherry, she had had such a different life to mine. I had been an only c***d, shy, timid even, fine caring parents, into the army by 16 and perhaps a bit of a promiscuous rake once I got over my shyness and I found out what it was for! With Autumn I had had true love and let it slip through my fingers, now here in my secluded island she had returned to me, it was my second chance.
She however had suffered in her lifetime, abuse, multiple ****, a bad marriage and then a later second sadistic one, she had skeletons in cupboards I as yet had no keys for, but I wanted her, more than lust, more than companionship and at that moment I knew I had to make this holiday of hers so special she would share my life and this island`s peace forever, cosseted, protected, enfolded, and loved.
I lay watching her sleep, her perfume, her warmth, muddled thoughts running through my brain, memories of us together, our wonderful but brief encounter, our passionate sex life, like a shooting star on a dark night sky, it had been some-time after her first failed marriage, the posting that had taken me away from her and the whirlwind love affair she had had with her second husband that had ended our then distant relationship. We, neither of us had been ready then, would this be the same, this second chance?
Just as I was leaving to come here, us meeting by luck or fate in that street, our rushed exchanging of addresses, and then the letters, those wonderful letter`s, then the emails, my joy at her acceptance of my invite for a holiday here and wondering what we would say… that first glimpse of her at the station… face beaming, telling me she was truly glad to see me, and that she had been as worried as I!
My mind whirled yes, she might have battle scars, and had seen life as I never would, but together... unable just to watch her more without physical contact I kissed her pale neck.
She stirred, half-awake, then she turned over wrapped her arms around me and dragged me down to her, kissing me firmly on the lips and crushing me soundlessly against her body. We didn’t need words, nor sex, we just clung to one another, in silent companionship, lips welded together, arms holding one another in the silvery moonlight… tomorrow we would explore my island…tomorrow we would explore one another, both mind and body, tomorrow…
The moon slipped tactfully behind a cloud, leaving us in the velvety all-embracing darkness, to sleep…together.

On my one and only tray, at 10 the next morning I delivered her breakfast, cooked on the small gas camp stove, she soon sat in the big bed nibbling the last of the toast, asking “can we look round every-where today please.”
I laughed and said we could and “could we please have some sex while we were out, as I wanted the whole island to understand that my lady was visiting and as king of the place, I would be showing my alpha maleness to any ghosts and spirits that may be about. She grinned and said “how could we not, my lord, I am my kings slave while I am here…” to that I didn`t answer, blowing her a kiss, returning to the living room, then raking out last night`s fire with gusto and relaying it ready for the next lighting.
She appeared still in her nightdress, passing through to use the toilet, poured herself a cup of coffee, then kissed me peering out over the open half door at the world.
She looked perfect to me, hair blowing in the breeze, lent on the lower door, sparkling sea behind her, with ‘Jenny’ our pretty red boat riding at anchor, gulls riding the wind. I was forced to take her picture. Then I moved her to get outside before I did it again, she taking up a pose, stripping off her top so her naked breasts overhung the lower door, finger`s gripping the door top, laughing at my expression her perfect if pale 38`s, nipples erect making a fine show against the fresh dark green painted door.
She laughed, saying “how fine it was, not to need to worry about nakedness.” We kissed and laughed, then I told her to dress, in as much or as little as she wished and we would walk the whole island together but to remember the breeze on the top would be worse than here in this sheltered cove.
She scuttled away while I sat enjoying the sun and swilling my tea, she then returned to stand before me to approve her choice of apparel, a pair of well-worn jeans and a white T shirt with a pair of sneakers, it was become her signature dress while she was on the island our island.
She kissed me, then said;
“It's so warm for the time of year and I can't wait to explore the whole island with you Joe and after last night`s love making I feel so relaxed and full of life. I hope truly that I have satisfied you sexually once more Joe and that you weren't disappointed with me.
I know I have changed Joe, and it's been a long time but you've no idea how good it felt to welcome you back into my body you made me feel like a desirable woman, really desirable, not a notch on some studs bedpost, whether I am or not it`s a feeling I haven't felt in such a long while.
I assured her she was more than desirable, and she went on “I do know you want to know about what's happened in the last 10 years since we were last together as lovers, and I promise I will answer your many question, but not during today joe, you have every right and I promise not to hide anything from you. I have experienced so many things Joe and my desire to satisfy my inner demons still hasn't diminished over all the years and pain I have endured.
I suspect in truth you are going to be shocked with some of the things I might tell you about but please don't judge me too harshly. we will talk but at night please as I don’t think I could if we were face to face in the light I could stand the look on your face if you disapprove.
I agreed to that happily, perhaps daylight was not the place to talk of the darker part of her past, today was bright and sunny, and if I wanted her to stay, it was going to be bright sunny island explorer`s who looked around.
We set off, me explaining that the whole place was only ¾ of a mile from the southern cliff just south of the pier, to the far cliff at the north-east corner. The place a bent L or a boomerang, only a quarter of a mile wide at the thickest point, from the cliffs in front of the observation point to the beach tucked in the crook on the sheltered south-eastern side.
First came Parkie`s steps, a dozen, wooden faced steps packed with chippings, in a track cut in the quarry rock-face, the rest of the path well-worn but here and there overgrown with briars, though Doug and I had cut away the worst so we could get to the observation post. I showed her the post, and we collected the old man`s binoculars, we then set off towards the north east, a short stiff climb but worth the exercise, as the lake was soon in view, clear and sparkling in the morning sun, a pair of geese flying away in alarm as we approached the water.
We sat on a convenient rock, watching the two wary geese looping around then returning to sk** across the waters surface settling at the far side of the broad pond, peace returned and we sat quietly arm in arm, taking in the surrounding`s each wrapped in our own thoughts. There was a scrabbling of hoofs on rock, and the white billy-goat appeared, drank from the pond then became aware of us. He scuttled away, and Autumn followed him with the binoculars as he effortlessly took flight through the long grass, “there is a cave,” she said but we didn`t follow, preferring not to frighten our white and horned friend. There were no other a****ls that we could see, autumn saying he must be the last of old Parkie’s herd.
We discussed his life alone up here, shelter, water, plenty of food, but alone, I said “we could colonise the island if we got our friend billy a wife or two” and that idea obviously appealed to my lovely friend.
I blurted out that I wanted her as my wife, if not my wife as my partner here, I didn’t want the solitude like’ billy’ or ’parky’ I wanted, no I needed companionship and I wanted it to be her, would she even consider it for me?
She said with a broad smile that she had been “considering it since we had met at the station but not to rush her, there was a lot to consider!”
Together we collapsed laughing, laying on the soft mossy grass, the sky above us blue, the sun still weak but we couldn’t have cared if it rained… a moment, an hour who knows, we kissed, we cuddled, we stroked, worries and cares dissipated like steam on a hot day and together we made love, not sex, not screwing, not pain or penance for things in our past, but love, the connection of one human being for another. time meant nothing to us, words had no meaning, in our world there was only us.
The day was passing, pangs of hunger, told us it was time to go, I put myself back in my trousers, collected her bra and our shirt`s and the binoculars then began the treck back to the cottage, after she had dragged on her jeans she tried to capture her shirt, but I said “no” and that “I just love to watch your lovely, lovely, breasts bouncing as we walk” She said she; “still hadn`t got her head round the islands solitude, and the need to cover up comes naturally” and I tucked the clothes under my arm wrapping my other arm round her scarred back and kissing her once more. as arm in arm both topless we wandered homeward.
She beat me to the cottage, I having stopped to look, into what had once been the veg garden,
By the time that I got to the door she had filled the kettle and was preparing the mugs for tea, refined though my lady-friend is I insist on mugs for tea, a throwback from my army lifestyle when dainty cups don’t hold enough for a real man and it saves constant refills!
We sat soon munching hastily made sandwiches, and just enjoying the company. Between bites she began to open-up a little, saying how much she was enjoying the solitude, and the freedom, she the shocked me by saying; I love being at least partially naked with you Joe, your lean muscled body is a joy to watch and I love your tight ass and long cock, you really are an incredibly sexy guy and it's such a pleasure to spend this intimate time together. I know you have been secretly glancing at my body all day hoping I wouldn't notice, but Joe, I feel so at ease with you that I want you to share in my shameful trophy marks without feeling that I might be offended or embarrassed.
She took another bite and I said nothing, waiting till she swallowed the morsel and went on; This is the real me and you know me better than anyone else in this world, sometimes it was too close Joe and that's why I had to get away and exorcise my inner demons offering myself to some sexually driven men ready just to satisfy their deviant lust by abusing my body. you were just too nice Joe and I needed to try, everything and anything and I partially succeeded, but not 100%.
I sat mug at lip pondering her revelation.
“Joe After my hubby died I became even more wealthy and regularly employed the services of a highly -trained expert in delivering the sort of 'treatment' that you might find difficult to hear about. but Joe it's been very much a part of my life and I would like to ask before I answer the question you asked by the lake, if you would allow it to continue or perhaps deliver the harsh treatment yourself that I so desire because without it I can`t live properly, I becoming depressed and suicidal, it`s just how I am, and I would be no use to you here or elsewhere if I got like that again, your life would be ruined and I should feel terrible.”
“So, your saying that unless I get to beat you and mistreat you or allowing your… well, what do you call him, your paid miss-treater, there is no way I can bring myself to call him master, to visit you, or you him you won`t live with me is that your ultimatum in a nutshell?”
She looked sad and said “well yes I suppose it is in essence”
I began to roar with laughter, “look; dipstick! The very reason I let you go before was that I was itching to miss-use you, but I didn’t think you would have been happy, or deserved what I wanted to do to you I`ve had a bit of a sadistic streak all my life, and I was worried that trait would drive you away anyway, so to save you from my underlying need to hurt you, I was glad of that posting to think!”
“You going off like that was one of the saddest days of my life, but I felt it had saved you from me…”
“I have been wanting to smack your arse and a hell of a lot more ever-since you came, but been biting my lip, desperate that my streak didn`t come to the surface and drive you away again. If you want to pay your man so be it, but once more and once only so I can learn his technique`s, after that if you agree to stay and be my wife, your mine and will only ever be mine. Is that fair?”
She didn’t answer in words, throwing her arms round my neck and kissing me hard obviously she had approved of the idea and my heart soared.