A short flight from my hometown had brought me to Mariners cove.
I was escaping from the pain and anguish of a torrid year; the unexpected loss of a close friend, the fallout of a company merger that left me e-mailing CVs again, and topping everything off, finding my girlfriend with her face buried between the thighs of her hairdresser.
Mariners Cove was a bustling east coast town, which catered to both tourism and to its small fishing fleet. Just a couple of thousand souls lived here in the offseason. The buildings pretty but functional in their white and pastel painted clapboards. The local eateries were famed for their fresh fish. Here winters were bitterly cold and the summers long and gloriously hot.
I had booked an island retreat, a small beach house on its own little island about two miles offshore. There were six such island retreats owned and managed by the local ferry company. No phone or Wi-Fi, the only means of communication a flagpole. Flying the green flag meant that all was okay, yellow you needed the ferry to stop by, red indicated that you had a serious problem.
I made my way to the harbour, a small rucksack over one shoulder and my carry on in the other hand. This was to be a minimalist trip, my tablet preloaded with books and music, wash kit, enough clothes to travel in, sunblock and my sketching pad and charcoals.
Arriving at the jetty, I located the ferry company's office and wandered inside , pleased to escape the heat of the day. I was offered a complimentary iced tea while my papers were checked. I grabbed a seat by the aircon and felt the weight start to lift from my shoulders.
Bob the manager was wearing a red polo shirt, khaki shorts and deck shoes, he checked my booking and ran through the safety leaflet with me. He confirmed that all my pre-ordered supplies had been delivered to the island.
“Ok, that about covers it, Becky will be mooring up outside in about five minutes,” he smiled and offered his hand. “I’ll carry your bags out and we’ll get you underway.”
I followed, noticing how lean and tanned he was as he grabbed my bags and lead me back into the sunlight.
Two short blasts on the air horn announced the arrival of the ferry, this was it, my escape from reality for the next month. Twenty-eight days of peace and solitude to clear my head and balance my soul. At the risk of sounding clichéd, I was going to find myself.
Bob had handed my bags over to the crew and turned to offer a hand as I climbed aboard, “It’s just you for this trip, hardly worth putting out the gangplank.” Pointing to the cabin he added, “Becky will look after you now, enjoy your stay” and with that he turned and headed back to the cool of the office.
“Welcome aboard, I’m Becky and you must be Izzie,” I turned toward the soft friendly voice to offer my hand. I could feel myself heat up, a warmth that started deep inside me and washed up through my body, colouring my face as I caught myself staring at Becky. She had the same physique as Bob, tanned with toned arms and legs, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Her wavy chestnut hair was held back by classic ray-ban wayfarers, the red polo shirt nicely filled by full breasts and her khaki shorts tailored and snug in all the right places.
In short order, we left the dock and headed out to sea, Becky steering with a practised ease and giving the occasional command to a young deckhand. I sat watching and admiring her confidence as the motion of the sea and the feel of the warm breeze soothed and calmed my frazzled soul.
As we approached the islands I could see a green flag on the first two, yellow on the third. Becky pointed at the yellow flag, ”Probably wants another supply run, he likes his Mojitos.”
We shared a laugh at that and I felt a warmth toward another human being, a warmth that had been all too absent from my life of late.
The fourth island in was to be mine, “It’s about a mile and a half at its widest point,” Becky pointed out as she circled the island, “I will come ashore and show you around.”
Another fifteen minutes saw us standing outside a small beach house, pretty in a green and white colour scheme with wrap around porch. Becky showed me the house, the propane supply and bbq pit. Where the firewood was stored if I needed it and how to change the flags. There was also a flare gun for emergencies.
“So, that’s it, basic but comfortable.” Becky headed toward the jetty and I walked with her, “I check the flags morning and evening so if you need anything just let me know.”
Becky offered her hand as we reached the dockside but I stepped forward and gave her a quick hug, “Sorry, it’s just so lovely and just what I need at the moment,” I kinda gushed at her with a smile.
Becky just smiled that warm white toothed smile and said she would drop by the following evening just to make sure I was settled in okay. Then she was gone and I was alone, surrounded by total silence but for the sound of the seabirds and the waves.
I walked back to my home, alone, nobody to hurt me by dying, or cheating, or telling me how good my work was but how much more efficient it would be to have the new head office do it instead.
The world sucked at times and it could go fuck itself.
I quickly unpacked my things, a simple task; three sarongs, three thong panties, a couple of pairs of sandals and a baseball cap followed by a fleece sweatshirt which I sorted in the wardrobe. Wash kit and sunblock went in the bathroom. Oh! and my vibrator in the bedside drawer.
I found fresh fruit and cheese in the larder, added some crackers and a bottle of Sam Adams and headed out to the porch to eat and watch the sun go down.
Seated on a swing seat I settled down with my simple fresh food, it tasted better than anything I could remember, maybe it was the food or maybe just the setting.
The sky was darkening and the sun was slipping away toward the far horizon. It had been a long hot day and I needed to freshen up. I walked down to the jetty and stripped off my, tee, shorts, bra and panties. I could feel the freshening breeze on my skin as I jumped into the water.
OH! Fuck that was colder than I expected but after a moment I caught my breath and swam a few yards. The cold water cooling my body as it rinsed away the grime and stress of the day.
Ten minutes later I climbed back out and grabbing my clothes I walked back to the house letting the evening breeze blow me dry.
I have small pale pink nipples that top slight A cup breasts but what I lack in size I make up for in sensitivity. Arriving back at the house I grabbed a blanket and another beer and resumed swinging in the chair.
My nipples were as hard as pebbles with the familiar ache of need. Setting down the beer bottle I shrugged the blanket from my shoulders and cupped my breasts.
Letting my hands feel the slight weight, before brushing a finger across the nipple. Catching it with my nail, feeling that tremor pass through my body.
Laying back in the chair swinging in the breeze, letting my fingers work their magic as darkness fell. First scratching the undersides of my breasts, ever so lightly, just catching the edges of my nipples. Then as the tremors built, gripping my nipples and rolling them between thumb and forefinger. Oh fuck yes! Feeling the pleasure build, that familiar tightness starting to form in my tummy.
One leg along the seat the other dropped my toes grazed the porch, I could feel the cool breeze hitting my swollen pussy. Mmm the cool air caressing my hot swollen sex sent shivers through my body.
I reached down and trailed a finger along my moist lips, slowly splitting them with my thumb. Spreading the juice that seeped from my core, and teasing my folds in the freshening air.
One hand worked my breasts, stretching my nipples, sending shocks of pleasure to my pussy, while the other hand worked my slick folds, a finger stroking circles around my throbbing clit.
Closer ever closer but never quite touching my pleasure button.
Like a roller coaster, I rode the increasing waves of pleasure, screaming my desires but never allowing myself the ultimate release.
Then when I could take no more, my entire body alight with pleasure, I delivered a sharp slap to my sopping mound. The blow centred on my swollen throbbing clit and my release came.
My body arched in pain and ecstasy as I sprayed my cum across the seat, a light show like no other before my eyes.
All light had gone from the sky by the time I could move, I wrapped the blanket about myself and headed for the bed of crisp white linen and my first deep and sated sleep for months.
*****
Part Two
I awoke late and feeling gloriously rested, I ate a light breakfast with lots of fresh coffee and decided to explore the island.
After a quick shower, I dressed for the day; baseball cap, sunblock and sandals. Then I grabbed a bottle of water and headed out.
It took a good couple of hours to explore my island paradise, I found a nice sandy cove and some rocky outcrops that I wanted to sketch and explore more. I retreated to the shade of the porch as the heat of the day hit, just reading and listening to music, letting my mind heal.
Late afternoon I heard the familiar blast of an air horn and looked up to see the ferry approaching. With just enough time to grab a sarong to preserve my modesty, I went to greet Becky.
It was strange, we hugged and greeted each other like old friends and she agreed to stay and have an iced tea. We chatted easily about the beauty and tranquillity of the area and I ended up grilling a couple of burgers.
Only as dusk started to fall did she put down her glass and with a nod to the setting sun offered her excuses, “I must move, it’s getting dark,” and then with an impish grin added, “And I can see you are getting chilled.”
Glancing down I could see my small but rigid nipples through the sheer fabric of the sarong and replied, “It’s the most I’ve worn since arriving, I kinda like this at one with nature lark.”
We hugged again and I helped cast off the lines as she pulled away from the dock.
Sitting back on my swing chair, I dwelt on my day, my focus on Becky and those tight shorts. I recalled the lack of a panty line and there were hints of her pussy outlined as she sat. Those taught tanned legs and the surprising French pedicure when she had kicked off her deck shoes were at the forefront of my thoughts as I sat back and slipped a finger between my slick lips again.
The next few days followed much the same pattern; walking and swimming or sketching filled my days. The hot dry weather-tanned my skin and soothed my soul.
By the first weekend, I had acquired a good colour and was totally at home with my nudity, happily waving to passing boats as I wandered about. I had debated letting my body hair grow but settled on keeping everything smooth except my pussy which was now covered with a fine down of well-trimmed hair as opposed to my usual wax.
Friday evening when Becky had dropped off my supplies she had mentioned having Saturday off and I had invited her to spend the day.