Chapter 5

As I opened my eyes I could see daylight around the edges of the curtain. I moved myself gently away from Judy and climbed out of bed without disturbing her. I noticed a lot of the redness was gone, but there were still a few welts across her smooth skin. Nothing that wouldn't disappear within a couple of days, but I suspected she was still going to be a bit sore today.

I moved over to the window and glanced out around the edge of the curtain. The sky was a cloudless cobalt and the glare of the intense sun reflecting from the white ground was almost blinding. The wind had finally dropped and I could see a plow moving along the main road, a half mile distant, but my road had yet to be touched.

I let the curtain drop back into place and made a quiet trip into the bathroom. When I returned, clean shaven once again, I saw that Judy was still asleep. Instead of waking her, I made my way to the kitchen and spent twenty minutes making a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and some sliced fruit. I took this and a pot of hot tea back into the bedroom where I found Judy just returning from the bathroom. "Good morning, Lover. I hope I didn't leave you too sore from last night."

She came over and kissed me. "No, not too sore anyway. But, it was worth it. I don't think I've ever come that much or that hard, Paul. I'm still tender in a few places, so don't count on whipping me like that again today. But I'm still horny, so don't count on getting to rest too much today either."

I built up the fire again and we ate breakfast sitting on the thick rug in front of it. Then we made love in front of it. This time it was a long, slow lovemaking, different, but just as good in its way as the hot session in the dungeon the previous night. I think one of the reasons I've come to like Judy so much is that she can be many different women. Hot and fiery, soft and romantic, a determined fencing opponent, the perfect academic professor, or a hundred others. In the last few weeks I've begun to admit to myself that I think I'm falling in love with her. I believe Judy feels somewhat the same and I've been working up my nerve to say so. In the mean time neither of us has a problem with just enjoying each other's company - not to mention the fantastic sex.

As we lay together in the afterglow of the loving, Judy kissed me and said, "Don't think I've forgotten about your uncle. I still want to hear more of his story." She reached up to the longue and handed me the old journal. "Let's just lie here while you read me some more."

March 5 ( Three Day)

I have been rather busy the last few days and haven't really had a chance to record any of my activities here. I should say I have been rather busy the last three days. The two days after the "party" were not especially rigorous, as Susan and I spent both of them relaxing with no more strenuous activities than swimming or a few walks around the island. Well, there was some rather strenuous activity for a number of short periods if you count sex. I, for one, definitely count sex. I can hardly believe the change which has come over me in my attitudes in the last couple of weeks since my arrival. Not that I didn't think about sex prior to that, but it was not my custom to have that as the number one topic, not only of thought, but also in many conversations. Life on this closed isle is indeed a world away from what I have always thought of as "civilization." However, I believe even an unbiased observer would admit that in actuality most of the activities here are far more civilized than in the developed world of Europe.

Since the start of the new work period (One Day), however, I have been kept quite busy during almost all of each day. I am beginning to see that there very well may be more required of me here as General Manager than there ever was at the canning factory. But even if I have more work to do, I find that I am enjoying it a lot more also. There are no silly pretensions unrelated to actual work just to please a boss. I don't have someone always second guessing my decisions or asking me to explain them. I have do doubt that if I do a poor job there would definitely be some explaining to do, but as long as I function well, no one interferes.

There is also the incredible benefit of the working conditions. The climate far exceeds Glasgow at its best, the natural beauty of sun, sea, and the island is everywhere pervasive, not to mention the natural beauty of the workers. The overall attitude of both staff and workforce alike leaves one with a feeling of well being which seems to instantly wipe away any problems encountered during the work day. It's more than just the free attitude towards love and sex, even though that is definitely a big part of it. I haven't slept alone even once since I arrived.

This brings me to something else. I may have given the impression that Susan and I quickly became a "couple" and that I was no longer as attracted to other women. This is only partly true. It is true that I have found that I like Susan better than any woman I have ever known and she seems to reciprocate the feelings. We do spend a lot of our free time together and both of us find fantastic pleasure in our carnal activities. But early on Susan discussed the situation with me and I have come to accept the customs which seem to be in place.

Even when a couple lives together as do Nate and Joan - and as I expect Susan and I will begin doing within a matter of days - even if they decide to become engaged to be married, even then no one expects outside liaisons to cease. As with the party last Eight Day, sexual activities with others are not only accepted, but actually expected and encouraged. Susan certainly didn't object to my time with the five women and I find I don't begrudge her activities with Nate. Coming here has somehow changed any conventional attitude I may have had about what constitutes fidelity. Once again, I ask myself "Where is the harm?" And once again I must answer, "There is none."

Since the party, even though Susan and I have slept together most nights, she has practically pushed me at a couple of different women and I played games with both Mai-quan and Jenny. I know Susan has had a couple of different lovers during the same time and I find that fact doesn't bother me at all. She has even mentioned that we should have Nate and Joan or the two nurses over for a night of fun and games, supposedly meaning everyone will participate. I think I am beginning to understand a new meaning for orgy, a meaning which places such things in a very attractive light rather than relegating them to the dark fringes of human activities.

March 7 (Five Day)

Today at lunchtime Susan and I joined Jenny, Deborah, Bob, and George for a picnic on the beach. By now I am used to everyone being nude and thought nothing about that; however, while we were swimming and playing in the water, I noticed Bob and George both move over beside Susan. I thought nothing of it until I suddenly heard a squeal immediately followed by laughter and giggles. I looked around to see Bob, with Susan draped over his shoulder, moving out of the water towards the blankets. George was moving right beside him, occasionally giving her tight bottom a quick caress. They set her down on the blanket and Bob began to suck and kiss her breasts even as George dropped between her legs and applied his mouth to her more private parts.

Of course I have taken part in such oral activities, even with Susan, but never en masse, so to speak. I must have been standing and staring because Jenny and Deborah, their arms around each other, suddenly stopped beside me. Jenny patted my bare behind and said, "Don't just stand there, Alex. Go on over and join them. She's got another tit, you know."

Two weeks ago such language from a woman would have convinced me she was a real slut, but now I have come to find that I no longer think like that. It seems no more out of place in our group than it would have as pillow talk between lovers. Anyway as she said this, she slapped by bottom harder and gave me a push towards the trio. I don't even remember exactly what I said or did as I came up on them. I only remember that in another minute or so I was kneeling opposite Bob and joined him in lowering my head towards that lovely landscape. This was my first time to participate in anything of this nature with another male present. Even last Eight Day Nate was in another room with Susan while I was being ravished (quite willingly, I'll admit) by the five women. But, like most other things that have happened on this island, I find that the activity did not really embarrass me nor do I feel there was anything wrong with it. Before it was over, each of us had changed places, and all four were well satisfied.

Another surprise. Once when I withdrew my tongue to allow it to recover (another quickly took its place to keep Susan quite occupied) I suddenly wondered if Jenny and Deborah were still standing and watching us. I looked up and discovered they were no longer interested. In fact they were interested only in each other. I stared for half a minute at the sight of the two lovely women on another blanket ten feet away. Jenny was lying on her back and Deborah was lying face down on top of her, but in the opposite direction. Each had her mouth locked against the sex of the other woman. I knew that some women enjoyed such things, but this was my first time observing it. Also, compounding this revelation, was the fact that I knew from personal experience that both of the beauties also truly enjoyed activity with men.

I had never really realized that many women can become aroused with either (or both) sex. Later I asked Susan about this and she told me that many, if not most, of the women on the island liked play with others of their gender as well as with men. She even admitted she enjoyed such things herself. Now I keep becoming aroused at the idea of watching her with one of the nurses or maybe one of the native girls. Again, I am somewhat surprised I don't feel any pique or condemnation at the idea, only intense interest and curiosity.

Susan has said that she will be going over to Trawa tomorrow to provide medical services for the natives there and asked if I would like to come along. Nate has urged me to do that and assured he can cover anything for me for a day. I'm a little apprehensive about the trip as I have never flown in an airplane before, but at the same time I am excited by the possibility. We are to leave early tomorrow morning.

March 8 (Six Day)

Today has really been a day of new experiences.

Susan had said she wanted to leave early so we arose before dawn, performed our absolutions, and ate a quick breakfast in the kitchen. When I had seen Susan arrive at the airstrip, she had been wearing pants and a leather flying jacket. As we were getting ready to leave today she said, "It can get a little cool once we get airborne, but today is probably going to be fairly warm. I'm going to skip the pants and wear a sarong. I'd suggest you wear a sarong and there are some leather jackets in the hanger. You can borrow one of those."

We made our way down to the hanger where two of the native men had already rolled the plane out from under the metal roof. Susan explained that the plane was a "Jenny," one of the trainers used in the hundreds and thousands during the war. It was a wood and fabric biplane affair with two seats, one behind the other. It looked very insubstantial and I was a little uncertain about allowing myself to be separated from the firm earth by such a flimsy contraption. But Susan obviously trusted her life to it and I was not about to back down now.

I followed Susan around the craft as she checked that certain parts were moving freely, looked at the level of petrol and oil in their tanks, and checked a number of other things which were totally incomprehensible to me. At last she was satisfied and we walked into the hanger building. Here she pulled a leather jacket from a peg on the wall and pointed out another one which I quickly donned. She retrieved a pair of short boots and located a similar pair for me along with two sets of leather flying helmets and goggles. Finally, outfitted in the strange costumes, we went back to the plane.

"You ride in the front," Susan directed and showed me where to climb and how to secure the wide safety belt holding me tightly to the seat. She then walked around the craft again, checking some more items, before climbing into the back cockpit. "The trip will just take twenty minutes or so," she said. "It may be a little hard to hear, but you can talk through the speaking tube if you shout."

I acknowledged this and then Susan turned and called something to one of the native men. He moved around to the front of the craft and slowly pulled the propeller through a couple of turns and then positioned it with one blade near the top of the arc. Susan did something behind me and then I heard her yell "Contact." I had seen planes start and take off a couple of times in France, so I wasn't totally surprised when the man swung his foot to gain momentum and pulled the propeller blade sharply down. The engine coughed and some blue smoke emerged. Susan called, "Switch off," and once again he moved the blade through a couple of revolutions and positioned it. Again Susan called, "Switch on. Contact." He repeated his motions and gave the blade a sharp downwards movement.

This time the engine fired and an incredibly loud roar filled the air as light smoke began to pour from the exhaust. The native had quickly moved back away from the spinning blade and now Susan must have made some adjustments, because the smoke disappeared and the engine settled into smoother operation.

For several minutes we sat there as the engine warmed and Susan did things I couldn't see (or probably understand) and then suddenly the craft began to move slowly forward. We moved to the end of the cleared strip and the plane turned to line up for take off. Again the engine changed tone once or twice and then rose in volume to a deafening calliope of sound and we started to roll forwards down the strip.

I'll admit my hands were locked tightly to the sides of the cockpit as I watched the trees roll by on my right and the sea on my left. The airplane bumped over rough places on the ground and then suddenly the bumps stopped. Then I noticed the trees seemed to be getting shorter and when I looked to the left, the ocean seemed more distant. Then my hands locked hard around the edge of the cockpit as the whole world suddenly tilted. I felt as though I was about to fall free of this moving vehicle and plummet to the hard earth below, but even as I absorbed this dreadful feeling, I realized I was still pressed firmly to my seat, as though gravity had changed its direction just for my safety and comfort. (Later Susan explained that while gravity had not altered, the centrifugal force of our turn had given that illusion and held me in place just as securely as if gravity had, indeed, changed.)

The craft seemed to right itself and I looked over the side to see waves breaking against a shore and tiny toy-like trees above a strip of white sand, all a far distance below me. A long distance and getting longer. We climbed some more and then made another couple of those turns which caused me to grab for an anchor though I remained firmly seated. Finally the plane leveled out and I watched in fascination as the buildings and forests where I had walked the past weeks began to fade behind me. Susan had pointed out the various instruments before we left and now I was able to make out that we were flying - flying! - about one thousand, five hundred feet above the blue Pacific. Ahead, a dark green area on the horizon became revealed as another island as each minute brought us closer.

I had begun to relax, feeling secure in the craft and in Susan's ability to control it, when the world tilted again and we began to descend. This time I only grabbed the edge of the cockpit for a few seconds before I made myself relax and sit straight in my seat as I watched the edge of the island rotate into my field of view. We made several turns, each time going to a lower altitude, until we were less than a hundred feet above the sea. As we flew level and in a straight line, Susan let the craft sink at a slow and steady rate until I could once more see trees directly to the side of the plane. I watched as the trees rose - my mind refused to believe I was falling instead - until I felt a sharp bump. This was followed by another bump, milder this time, and then we were on the ground slowing from what must have been an unbelievably fast speed.

We came to a stop and then the plane turned around and began to roll (slowly this time) to where a side road left the cleared beach strip. Susan pulled to a stop in this road and the roar of the engine died as she shut down things. At last there was silence. I twisted around in my seat and Susan asked, "Enjoy your first flight, Alex?"

In truth my mind was nearly overwhelmed. I had enjoyed the experience immensely. "Yes. I really loved it. I'll admit it took a little getting used to, but what hasn't lately."

"That's good to hear. Otherwise you might have a long swim back. What impressed you the most?"

I thought about this question for a half a minute. "At first I started to say seeing everything like toys, but do you know what really made the biggest impression? The trip was so fast. A boat would have taken us hours."

Susan laughed. "That's right. This is the coming thing, Alex. It won't be too long before planes begin to carry passengers from place to place, like boats and trains, only much, much more quickly. Flying will really come of age when it is no longer an extraordinary experience, but merely a convenience. Come on, let's go see the village."

We climbed from the craft and by now several people from the native village had appeared. Susan spoke to a couple of the men she apparently knew. They nodded and began to turn the plane around and then to tie it to some nearby trees as Susan and I, accompanied by a number of native people, made our way down a path through the forest.

We came out into a small open area populated with maybe fifty huts and one tin roofed building in a more Western style. Susan went directly to this building and opened the door. She explained that this was a clinic and that about once each week or so she would make a trip here to provide treatment to any villagers who might need it. I could see a number already beginning to line up at the door.

I should also note that the natives here were not nude. Nearly all - men and women alike - wore the ever present sarongs. There were also many children and adults much older than those at the plantation. In short, a complete cross section of a typical community. Susan and I had left our flying jackets with the plane and now she donned a white lab coat. She handed one to me and I shrugged into it. I have no idea where she found one large enough to fit my frame, but it did. For the next several hours I helped hand her items, run and fetch, and generally do whatever she needed as she treated a variety of boils, cuts, and scratches, although there were no serious injuries or sicknesses. When she finished treating all the patients, she spent another forty five minutes talking to several dozen villagers, trying to teach them the importance of washing any cuts or scratches and keeping them clean.

When Susan had completed her medical duties, she removed the lab coat and I handed her mine. This seemed to signal the end of official business to the villagers and many of them immediately became more animated, asking both Susan and myself a variety of questions. A number of them had a good knowledge of English, else I would have been left completely out of the conversions. We were invited to a meal and spent an hour sitting cross legged with a couple of dozen men and women while we ate several different native dishes. The main course seemed to be made from some kind of fish and what I believe to be breadfruit. I was a little surprised to discover that this was a rather delicious concoction.

At last Susan began to say goodbye to the villagers, many of whom she seemed to know very well and we made our way back to the aircraft. By now it was well into the afternoon and quite warm, although I expected it might become quite cool when we were airborne. We each put on the leather flying jackets and Susan went through her series of preflight checks. I was about to climb back into the front cockpit when she stopped me.

"Alex, I think I'd like to try something on the way back. It's been three years since I've done this, but I think you'll enjoy it. Why don't you climb into the back instead."

I was a little uncertain because I knew that the rear position was the pilot's. And I certainly was not going to be the pilot. But I nodded and placed myself in the rear seat. Susan made sure I snugged the safety belt tightly. I then expected her to get into the front, but she surprised me by starting to climb in the rear with me. "I'm going to sit on your lap," she announced.

Well, it was a fairly tight fit, but I'll admit her tight little bottom and legs did feel nice against me. She produced another wide leather belt and strapped it around the seat bottom and herself, providing a second safety belt. I probably looked confused and uncertain because Susan twisted her head around and said, "Don't worry about it, Alex. I can fly perfectly well from here and it will let us talk without having to shout quite so loudly. We'll still have to yell, but it will be easier. And I'm going to show you a few acrobatics and this way I can make sure it's not too much for you. Maybe I'll even show you a really special maneuver."

She called to one of two native men who had remained to help her with the plane and soon he was pulling on the propeller and she was going through the same "Contact" routine as earlier. The engine caught and I could see that Susan was busy adjusting and testing things. In a couple of minutes she released the brakes and we began to roll forward, out to the end of the cleared strip. We lined up with the cleared area and Susan ran the engine up so it sounded like it was ready to fly apart on its own. Then we were rolling down the straight stretch of sand and before I realized it we were climbing and leaving the ground behind. Then came that first gut twisting turn, but this time it wasn't quite so bad. I let my hands tighten around Susan's waist and she didn't seem to mind. I also noted that as we climbed I enjoyed the feel of her firm buttocks being pressed down into my lap.

We climbed for awhile before leveling out and Susan pointed to the altimeter. We were higher than this morning, about three thousand feet. When I actually thought about it, what difference did that make. If I fell from three hundred feet the result would be the same as from three thousand. Then Susan turned her head towards me and shouted, "Let's try a few figure eights."

The world tilted until I was sitting nearly ninety degrees from where I should, my right side now parallel with the blue ocean far below. We continued to fly in this attitude, turning several times, until I suddenly realized we were describing giant sideways figure eights in the sky. When we leveled from that series of turns, Susan made a somewhat circular sign with her hand. I wasn't sure what she was trying to say until she began to pull back on the control stick and the nose of our craft pointed towards the sky. I watched as the world turned around me. Suddenly I was sitting with my head pointed downwards to the distant sea and my feet towards the heavens. My mind told me I should have been falling, but I was still pressed tightly into the seat and Susan was pressed just as tightly into my lap.