Island Girl Ch. 01-03

Ch 01 - girl on rebound meets guy on hunt

ALEX: Life on Edward's island is dull. The days start dull, stay dull and end dull. The restaurants are few and the bars are fewer. Isolated by a forty minute ferry ride, the island is all about families and small farms. Yes, there are commuters who ride the waters, but mostly the place is about locals three generations deep protecting their own. As a rule it takes 20 years of full time to become a local.

Edward's island to the knowing and Eddies to the less reverent, it is a fifty mile rock shelf pushed up by a retreating glacier. Potable water is the limiting factor that keeps the place rural. There are a few deep wells, expensive wells, but mostly there are rain water cisterns and low flush johns. Economic wise the island grows strawberries and kids with strawberry cheeks. Until Edwards finds cheap water it will remain a small town trapped in time.

The question to ask is why would a big city boy like myself chose to live on this quaint island? The answer as always is a girl. Women do seem to rule our lives. Her name was Molly.

MOLLY: My Romeo was a flop and I was mortified. That's how I explained it to Fran. What with her checkered past Fran understood all too well how the gossip mill kept abreast of all things island, everything from Junior's lost tooth to my lost pride was fodder for the phone patrol. That was the downside.

On the upside no one worries about locked doors and six to sixty, everyone hitchhikes. Entertainment wise the island sports wonderful beaches and year around sailing. There is an old folks' home, clay tennis courts and Roxies - the island hot spot. Most people go there for the food, a few for the bar and some for the work. It takes a lot of people to run a restaurant 16 hours 7 days a week. I was the weekday breakfast cook. The money is better evenings and weekends, but I was new to the kitchen crew, having spent my first eighteen months waiting tables. These things take time.

Did I mention Fran? Fran is my best buddy and confident. Mutt and Jeff they called us. She was round and I was tall. She was a list maker and I was a planner. In school she was B- and I was A+. We shared everything but dating. It seems no one at St Pete's was brave enough to date a chubby chick. Their loss, as I saw it, for Fran was wonderfully funny.

St Pete's, now there's a topic. St Pete's is the island church, an island school and an old folks' home - an all in one package. Father Rupert, our parish priest, hands out stale bread, grape juice and penances by the score. I must have of said a thousand Hail Mary's in my time, but then I was an over achiever in all things, including sin.

Back to Romeo, you haven't forgotten him, have you? Jeff and I had dated for three years. My plan involved a summer rental and a fall from grace. With Jeff's help this Summa Cum Laude kid would become a Mama Cum Loudly babe. It was to be a summer of nonstop sex.

But the plan flopped. It wasn't like I expected the Earth to move. I'm not some gothic heroine. But sexually speaking he didn't do it for me. Frustrated, I consulted my notes and tried again. When he turned brutal I knew my summer was ruined. The worst part was I had proudly proclaimed our romance consummation for all to hear and now everyone knew him to be a failure and me a fallen fool. The embarrassment was total.

So I cried on Fran's shoulder. A week later I bounced back with a new plan. That's how I came to sit in Roxies, wine glass in hand, listening to the music. What I had was a nice cabin, a quick mind, a nice body and a summer to kill. What I lacked was a man - one who could get it up and keep it up for however long it took. No Minute Men need apply. It was on this note Alex walked in the door. I gave him and his two cronies my best smile. Off islanders were at the top of my list.

ALEX: I met her at Roxies, a mid island food bar. Fred, Tom and I were out slumming -- looking for hot chicks, bourbon and beer. As the designated driver I headed east along the bay. I was thinking about beaches, sand, summer and bikinis. Edwards Island, Eddies, must have summer crowd. All the islands did, or so I thought.

She had dimpled cheeks, long red hair, a cute face and freckles. She was sipping wine and listening to the acoustic renderings of local artists. The applause was politely enthusiastic on this open mike night. I was reminded of a long ago crush I had for a second cousin. She too liked acoustic music and white wine. The crush was a kid thing, like spin the bottle.

MOLLY: "Call me Alex," he said, "Alex Andrews." AA, eh, I answered back with a tip of my glass.

He was a story teller, strong on satire. Caught up in his telling, I learned he and his two buds had come across looking for fun. Their mistake was not knowing the action was all off island. That and the ferries left roughly every three hours. The next boat out was ten thirty, but then Roxies was as good as any place to kill time.

Making the best of things Alex settled in at my side. Sipping wine we talked during microphone resets, about me, about him and about dating. "Single bars are the pits," he muttered. Tried want ads, I asked. His frown said it all. He was a man fed up with the gamers and games. He was here only because he refused to give in. "I know there's someone out there, I just can't find her. You got an older sister?" I knew he was kidding, and yet the question got me thinking. Until that moment I hadn't considered an older man - old being anyone over thirty.

I ran him down my checklist. Off islander - check. Handsome - check. Brainy - double check. Personable, humorous, witty and bright -- check, check and check. Dog kicker -- no evidence of. Sexy -- I needed a kiss to tell. Staying power - that too needed testing. Right then Alex was at the top of a very short list. Fact is, he was only one on the list. He had it right about dating being a tough racket. Getting him in the rack was going to take some doing. These off island romances are always tricky.

About ten he dashed out the door, but not before he left me his number. "I want to finish this conversation. Call me."

ALEX: She called me. I couldn't believe she actually called. Not two days or a week later, but that same night. She wanted to be sure I got home safe, that's what she said, but I could hear the interest in her voice. We talked half the night.

What followed were countless calls, a couple dates and some heavy petting. Two weeks in I realized the sex thing was a no go. It happened at my place. In high school jargon I was rounding second when she jumped up off the bed, threw open the closet and started trying on my clothes. She babbled something about us being the same size, but I took it for a duck. She had changed her mind. All I got out of it was a serious hard on.

I accepted this decision because of the twenty year gap, her off island phobia and because this was the first new friend I had made in ages. She was a welcomed breath of fresh air and an interesting friend. What evolved between us was a highly charged, platonic relationship. Other than an occasional quick kiss it was all talk and no show. Our common link was story telling. We both had designs on writing the great American novel.

MOLLY: I was nervous, nervous as hell. Every step of the way I found myself wanting to turn back. Was I crazy? Just what does a twenty year old know of seduction? Not much was the answer.

Thankfully the ferry ride and downtown shuttle went well. I fell in with an island crowd headed out for a night in the city. They knew me, but not well. It was mostly trash talk and gossip. Gossip fueled the island chat lines. Downtown we went our separate ways and I breathed easy, well easier.

The next bus was a neighborhood wanderer. Time on my hand, I watched the houses go by and thought about my high school sweetheart. Was this a rebound move, seducing Alex? Was I really truly over Jeff? Yes, I told myself. In the last few years I had worked my way up from waitress to cook and my savings had me only a year out from college. Yes the cabin rental had set me back, but as always I had a plan. Instead of Jeff sharing my bed and the rent, it would be Alex.

On the down side the cabin was half the size of his current place, one bedroom only, and it would be a long commute for him. On the up side the rent was cheap, it had wood heat and sat on five acres of view property. The best part was the bed. It was a double bed with brass rails. There are those who'd think both the cabin and bed too small, but I like cozy. I am all about cozy.

I fingered the contents of my pack. Everything was there: my night shirt, the books, three kinds of protection, a slinky nightgown, a change of clothes, a makeup kit and some of those little blue pills (don't ask). Extracting the smaller book I cautiously looked around before cracking it open. I was alone but for the driver and a self involved couple in the back.

I ran my fingers across the cover as if to magically absorb its contents. Francine had given me the two books, a good luck gift to see me on my way. Wrapped in brown paper, they were labelled "Read me first" and "Read me second". I smiled. Everyone should have a Francine. According to her directions I was to share these books with Alex. Fran, being my best buddy, had helped formulate my latest plan. She was my cheering squad.

Not wanting to wait, I carefully pulled back the wrapping paper and extracted the card. The image was a woman silhouetted in the moonlight. A hopeless romantic, the card had Fran written all over it. Inside she wrote, "A Hundred Positions, a hundred nights of orgasmic delight. Enjoy!" She signed it Fran and added her trademark smiley face.

I sighed. If anyone deserved orgasmic delight it was Fran. It was high time I found a man for her, one who could see beyond the chubby cheeks and round body to the woman within. All I had to do was find him.

I pulled the wrapping aside and jammed it in my pack.

The book itself, red covered, was more direct and quite graphic. The cover art was a naked couple locked eye to eye in a lust filled gaze. The title was the same as Fran's card. I smiled again. What Fran lacked in originality she more than made up for in sweetness. You had to love her.

I cracked the book to a random page. Pictured was a kitchen scene with a half dressed couple going at it. The kitchen was neat and the couple handsome.

THE QUICKIE.

ABOUT: The Quickie is all about spontaneity. The descriptors crazy and silly comes to mind. If you are looking to get things out the bedroom or heat up your sex life, then by all means consider a quickie. For those who are exhibitionists at heart, the quickie is a must.

HOW TO: She, sitting a surface level with his pelvis, flips up her dress, pushes aside her panties and wraps her legs around his waist. He unzips his pants, drops his shorts and plunges in between her open legs.

THE GOOD: The thrill of seeing a man insane with want can greatly accelerate a woman's sexual response time. What with him doing all the work, she is free to fully express her sexual energies. For him it is all about the moment and an unimpeded path for full long thrusts.

THE BAD: Female lubrication can be an issue here, as can birth control. A moment's pause, a phial of lube, a box of condoms and a big purse comes to mind here. As the quickie is all about driving desire, clothing choice should ideally be of an easy open/off style. The choice of no underwear for he or she comes to mind here.

VARIATIONS: As not all men are tall enough for the pictured 36 inch counter, we would suggest trying other furniture like desk tops or tables. As this is an anything goes kind of act, there is nothing wrong with doing it on the floor or up against the wall. Things to remember are standing up yields the best thrusts and not all furniture is sturdy enough for this act.

My snicker became a chuckle. A sturdy kitchen table - they had to be kidding. The "up against the wall" note sent me leafing through the book. How exactly does one do it standing up? Inquiring minds want to know.

A dozen positions later I slumped down, unbuttoned my coat, slid a hand under my skirt and let my imagination run wild. I needed release, what I got was an adrenaline rush and a shuddered moan as an orgasm washed through my mind.

"Twenty Fourth Avenue," the driver called out. I stumbled off the bus, looked around and started walking. The autumn air chilled everything but my ardor. I buttoned my coat and walked faster. I wanted Alex so bad I could taste it. Sexual release was but a few blocks away.

Ch 02 - Molly puts her plan in play

ALEX: It was Molly. Like an idiot I said her name and stood there staring.

"Can I come in," she asked. It was almost a whisper.

"Of course!" I dragged her in the door, closing out the cold. "How did you know I was home," I asked, inanely.

"You told me," she answered.

"Ah yeah, I guess I did. Still you should have of called me. I would have of picked you up. It's not the safest thing a girl walking alone." Guiding her to the couch I tried to think the place neat. As usual it didn't work.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well you certainly did that." Like a whirling dervish I swept by the closet with her coat and into the kitchen for some cocoa. Cocoa to warm her cold hands. Back in the front room I killed the TV and pulled off her boots. It all kind of made sense. Kinda.

She unzipped her bag. "I've got something for you. Fran found it." She sounded nervous, but so was I. Rising to her feet she held the tee shirt up for me to read.

'I'll Try Anything Once. Sometimes Twice.' Cute, I answered.

I tossed the tee shirt across my left shoulder. Back in the kitchen the microwave dinged. Hurrying around I poured hot milk into a readied mug and kept moving. The message was clear. The tight sweater, the short skirt, the tee shirt and the timing. My good friend Molly wanted to get laid.

"Ah, Alex."

"Yeah."

"Read it again. There's a message there."

This time I read it aloud. "Very cute," I confirmed. I was stalling. The last time I put a serious move on her she shut me down. I had since then happily accepted us being friends. Did I really want to mess with things for just a quick lay?

She gave her hair a head shake. It was her way of expressing dismay. "You lug, I want you to try me."

I set down the cocoa. "So what's the plan," I asked. She always had a plan.

MOLLY: I launched myself into his arms. He'd of kissed me but for a mouthful of hair. I shook back my mane and he hugged me. "I thought we decided this." His breathe was hot on my cheek and his words soft in my ear, but they were not the words I wanted. I wanted words of endearment or a profession of love. A compliment would have been nice. I hugged him back, burrowing my face into his neck. As before I was amazed how well our bodies fit.

"A girl can change her mind, can't she?" I wanted to cry. Was this two hour journey all for nothing? Was he rejecting me?

The feel of his hand stroking my hair calmed me. "I'll drive you home," he quietly announced.

Don't get me wrong, this big brother thing has its pluses. It's like having another Fran, one who knows how guys tick. He helped sort out this Jeff thing. But I had indeed changed my mind. If it took leaving the island, I would do so. I would do it for him. I wouldn't like it, but I'd do it.

This time I kissed him.

ALEX: Ever surrender yourself to a good massage. Ten minutes with the right masseuse can drain you. For a few bucks extra the right masseuse will leave you limp. Well Molly was a massage artist in her own right. As she kissed me I flashed back on her good night kisses. Us standing at her parents' front door, lip locked, her hips grinding into mine. I swear ten minutes of a Molly dry hump will leave any guy panting.

Ten minutes in I had Molly pinned to the wall. she grinding and me fondling. "Bedroom," I muttered into her neck. Hand in hand we hurried down the hall.

In the bedroom we clashed again. In fast forward we groped at each other. It was all about exposing skin. She opened up my shirt and ran her fingers through my chest hair. For my part I pushed my hands inside her sweater dragging it over her head and down her arms. In like fashion she pushed the shirt off my shoulders and tossed it aside.

Her bra this time wasn't that white cotton monster that kept my questing hands at bay. This time it was little more than two cloth triangles held in place with strings. Her breasts, I now saw, were soft mounds with only the slightest hint of droop. I won't say they were huge. What I will say is they were ample. She, they were beautiful.

She slapped my hand away from the ties. "Wait on it," she smiled. I gave her space. Nodding her approval she pushed down the elastic band holding up her skirt. My jaw dropped as I took in full image. It was a matching bra, g-string and thigh high set. The look was hot, she was hot and I was stunned. Was this my Molly - this lusty babe, this calendar girl, this femme fatale?

MOLLY: I gave him a minute to drink it all in. The outfit was eye candy -- a bedroom bikini if you like, wholly impractical as street wear. I felt like a fool for buying it until I saw how it hit him. The look in his eyes was pure lust. Right then I knew he wanted me as bad as I wanted him. The bulge in his pants confirmed it. My wetness said the rest.

"Oh shit," I groaned. The bulge in his pants - I almost forgot! I was midway through my cycle, meaning an egg was even now looking to implant. All it needed was a sperm to finalize the deal.

Believe it or not I planned it this way. Not the baby, stupid, the sex. My moon cycle is like clockwork, 28 days long. I picked day fourteen because, well, I get sex crazy during ovulation. During the big O the the mere touch of a man makes me shiver and his smell can drive me mad. In the past I shut this madness down with a firm No Way. When all else failed I used Oscar, my pocket pal. He vibrates.

This month though I said Yes to the hormone madness. Resultantly I wanted Alex so bad I almost forgot the prophylactic sponges in my bag. Hence the baby panic.

JAKE: "Come here, girl," I growled. Macho Man was a put on, an act if you like. Personally I'm more into the shared kind of tryst, but I was improvising. Macho Man, being a take charge guy, unbuckled his jeans and dropped them to the floor. The boxer shorts followed.

As Macho Man is all about pride I let her admire for a good long minute. Like the song, 'it ain't the meat, but the motion,' the macho man knew all the moves.

There are those who think a first night should be about soft music and softer words. I say horse pucky. First nights are about two people getting down to it. The routine is simple. Insert Rod A into Slot B. Shake, rattle, roll, grunt and gasp until one or both parties are done in. Take a break and do it again a many times as required.

Unfortunately first nights are also about personal pressure, high anxiety and embarrassment. I mean what can be more stressful than having to prove yourself the great lover? That's why I like to start out by stripping down. It sets a tone for the night by clearly stating my expectation of putting it to her a time or three before someone punks out. It also says it is okay to risk.

Sound crazy? Well keep in mind I make it a point to satisfy the woman first before taking my pleasure from her. Getting it up and keeping it up is something I do and do well.

So if I do alright by the ladies, why don't I have a harem of babes to call on? Nice guys finish last, that's why. In the pickup market it does not pay to treat the ladies with respect, not if you want to get some action. That plus most of my Macho Man spiel is pure drivel. No one's buying it.

Truth is I had pretty much given up trying to sell myself. Thankfully Molly didn't require selling because she sold herself. She didn't just sell herself, but turned the act into an off island pilgrimage. She came looking for me. All I had to do now is deliver the goods. God help me.