An Island Between Us

by K'Anne Meinel

  Marion couldn’t tell Barbara how she was feeling, but that had been the most glorious set of orgasms she’d experienced in a long time. Brian was long gone, his lovemaking almost a distant memory from another time and place, and Barbara was here now. She had experienced something she couldn’t describe and wanted to share it with the large brunette. She hoped she could give her even one tenth of the excitement. She wasn’t sure she was up to the task, but she was going to try her damnedest as she listened to Barbara’s accelerated breathing. She cupped Barbara’s mons, squeezing as she felt the moisture between her fingers, the silky pelt amazing her with its softness. She could tell Barbara had never trimmed her bush, and its natural state fascinated Marion. Gently, she inserted her curious fingers between the folds, thrilled at the moisture she felt down there and hearing Barbara’s labored breathing. She duplicated what Barbara had done to her, inserting her smaller fingers inside. One, two, and then, cautiously, she tried a third. Amazingly, she sensed Barbara’s discomfort immediately and removed the third finger. She watched, thrilled, as she worked Barbara’s body into a frenzy with those two fingers inside her. Barbara’s large hands grabbed at the smaller woman’s body, squeezing painfully as she tensed up near the breaking point, before finally stopping. Marion looked at her in dismay.

  “It’s okay, we can keep trying,” Marion assured her, realizing what had happened.

  “What do you mean?” Barbara asked.

  “We can keep trying to make you come,” she said, not stopping the sensation between Barbara’s legs as her hand continued to piston in and out of her.

  Barbara halted her arm and said, “What are you talking about?” She frowned, unsure what Marion was saying.

  Marion stopped and let her fingers fall out of the larger woman. She frowned too. “Haven’t you ever had your body come undone from an orgasm?” She waited a moment and then asked, “You saw what happened to me?”

  “Yes, I did,” Barbara smiled, enjoying the memory that had so aroused her. Then, she quickly frowned. “But I don’t understand. I get pleasure, I just don’t get such intense pleasure.”

  Marion stared at her friend incredulously. “You were so close. What made you stop?”

  “Stop? I thought I was done,” she answered, and she believed it.

  “No, that wasn’t it,” Marion shook her head. “You missed out on the intense pleasure. I want to try more,” she said, reaching for her, but Barbara pulled back, surprised.

  “I had pleasure,” she argued, not understanding.

  Marion shook her head. She knew Barbara hadn’t experienced the ultimate pleasure, and she wondered if the woman truly believed that had been it. She hoped she could teach her otherwise. She wanted to hear her come in pleasure. Barbara had been right there. Whatever her thoughts were at that moment, they had kept her from coming and from achieving the ultimate fulfillment.

  Over the months before they decided to live together—ostensibly to save money as they sold their homes—Marion had looked forward to the stolen moments when they managed to express their love. In the two years since they had begun living together after they first made love, Marion had learned that Barbara accepted the status quo. She believed the loving she received was enough. She had never experienced an orgasm, and this saddened the blonde although she never let on. She loved the big brunette and hoped that with time and patience she could bring out the ultimate feelings she instinctively knew were trapped within her friend.

  Now, all these years later, seeing the brunette eagerly waiting for her to join her in their cabin bed, she smiled as she made her way to the woman. She hopped into bed eagerly as Barbara tucked in the sheets around her. She was just thrilled to have her in a bed after all this time apart. They’d managed to steal kisses, gropes, and caresses for months. They’d even managed the hurried lovemaking in the woods that one time, but it hadn’t been nearly enough for either of their libidos. They’d desperately missed the intimacy they felt they were due after all their hard work.

  Slowly, they came together, loving that there were no children, dogs, or cats nearby to thwart them. Gently, Marion helped Barbara strip off her pajamas. She wished she was wearing a revealing negligee instead but realized how impractical that was on this island. She helped to remove Barbara’s pajamas too, pleased to see the body that had trimmed down into muscles she admired and lusted after. Now, she was able to touch to her heart’s content, arousing the brunette further than she had ever been aroused. Barbara was pleased that the blonde still wanted her as much or more than she had when they first fell in love. She was amazed and grateful for this woman in her life. She returned the pleasure, caressing along the slim back and marveling at the softness under her work-roughened fingers.

  Marion loved the feel of the rough hands along her back. It felt almost like a scratch, and she arched against Barbara, enjoying the sensations. As their mons came in contact, she was surprised to find that Barbara had trimmed hers. She felt the prickly feeling of cut hair and then the longer, silky feel of some other hairs. She gently tugged, much to the brunette’s surprise, and then unaccustomed delight spread over the sensation, and she felt herself becoming even wetter, if that was possible.

  “Do it again,” she breathed.

  Marion tugged on the longer hairs, feeling a couple pull away from Barbara’s body. She was surprised and delighted that it was arousing Barbara more as she placed her fingers on both sides of her wetness and played with the folds.

  “Oh, God. Marion, I’ve missed you,” she said quietly as she arched into those fingers that played her so well.

  “I have too. I want to taste you,” Marion admitted, wondering how clean they were without showers or regular baths. The washing up they did was just enough to remove the sweat and residual body odors. They had both secretly relished getting soaked in the rain and then changing into clean clothes in the tent, but it wasn’t like soaping up in the shower or soaking in a hot bath.

  “Oh, God,” Barbara breathed, imagining the feelings as Marion slipped her fingers inside her. “Yes, baby,” she gasped, her mind playing over her words while reliving the things Marion had done in the past, things she wanted her to do again. It had been too long, and she’d played that incident in the woods over in her head too many times as she worked, so her arousal was almost instantaneous. This time, she didn’t cut it off, didn’t take just the little pleasure she thought she was entitled to. The thoughts kept her building, and before she knew it, her body released in a way she had never experienced before. The sensations she floated on until she came shocked her. The first orgasm of her life caught her by surprise. Barbara eyes opened wide, and her roar of excitement was captured by Marion’s mouth before it surely would have woken their children in the adjoining rooms. Barbara’s body bucked as the feelings ripped through her, causing what almost felt like convulsions in its intensity. She had never felt that before, and her eyes showed puzzlement, then alarm, and finally, a knowing look as she enjoyed herself with Marion against her. Her strong arms captured Marion and squeezed painfully, holding the blonde tight against her and causing her to lose her own breath in a whoosh. Marion forcefully held her mouth over Barbara’s, tempering it by using her tongue to lick at the cold lips caused by all the blood draining from them. Slowly, she came down from the high. Marion slowed her hand, which was in pain from where it had been trapped between them. Reluctantly, she stopped kissing her, pulling back to suck in oxygen she badly needed as she smiled down at her lover, pleased for her.

  Barbara had never felt so vulnerable in her entire life. So that’s what Marion had been talking about. She knew she had been missing out, but her mind simply wouldn’t allow her to have an orgasm. Now that she’d had one, she wanted more. She returned Marion’s tender smile, reaching up to kiss her in thanks for what she had wrung out of her now sweaty body.

  “Are you all right?” Marion asked softly, bringing up her other hand to gently push back the sweaty hair from the brunette’s face now that Barbara was
no longer crushing her.

  “Oh. My. God,” she blasphemed, realizing that nothing she’d experienced before had ever compared. She was tingling all over, and she could feel the pulse between her legs as her blood returned to her extremities.

  Marion couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. She knew what Barbara was experiencing, at least she thought she did. She loved seeing the wonderment in her partner’s face. Barbara brought her fingertips up to her lips in astonishment; the tingle still in them as the blood returned slowly, and they were ice cold from the lack of blood.

  “You get that every time?” she asked but based on their two years together she already knew the answer.

  Marion nodded and then said, “It will get easier to achieve now that you know what you were missing. Your body knows the path to follow now and won’t get lost on the way.” At least, she hoped that was true. The mind was powerful and could halt anything, which she suspected had been Barbara’s problem all along.

  “Why haven’t we had that all this time?” she mused and then realized it had been her problem, not a lack of trying. She had always enjoyed herself with Marion, thinking her the most passionate creature she had ever met. She was lucky Marion loved her enough to stick with her through this. It hadn’t been an issue before, but now, she wanted more. She began to caress Marion, imagining past orgasms she had witnessed by the blonde and becoming aroused again as she thought of them.

  Barbara didn’t have another orgasm that night as they made passionate love to each other, but it didn’t matter. They woke to a morning of sunshine, which meant they had to get up and get going on all the work they had waiting. Sharing a smile as they made the bed, they got dressed. They knew they had the rest of their lives together to share more of those special moments they had found.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I don’t want to leave the island. Something tells me we shouldn’t,” Barbara told her honestly. The sheep were in the meadow and would drift off to their favorite grazing areas among the trees. The cats were on their own but could hunt quite efficiently. The chickens and guineas really shouldn’t be left alone, so they planned to make their boat available to Grady and hoped she would come over to babysit. They were taking the dogs with them. The puppy was getting large and was almost as big as the older Feathers.

  “We have to get the rest of our stuff,” Marion pointed out. Neither one of them could stay, yet she too was reluctant to leave the home they had made. The cabin was nearly finished, their first summer cabin was quite far along too, and the second summer cabin was partway done. They’d made tremendous progress, and the boards they had scavenged from their first shipment meant they were ahead of schedule. They’d figured out how to put in a small water well by the first cabin and pump up the necessary water for the shower, boiler, and consumption. None of the summer cabins would have electricity, but the beautiful lamps they intended to order would work well. The boiler was installed in their own cabin for heating water, and they intended to order boilers for the other cabins. The rusted-out boilers Grady had at her place couldn’t be recovered. They had discovered that one of the stoves Grady brought over had a boiler of sorts attached to it. It was discovered too late for it to go into the first summer cabin since it wouldn’t fit through the doorway, but they built the second summer cabin around it, saving them the cost of another water heater when they removed the rust spots with steel wool and elbow grease.

  “Here are the keys to our boat,” Barbara said as she handed them off to Grady. They were standing on the woman’s porch, amazed at the difference in her yard with all the junk removed. There were still a few pieces lying about. She had someone cutting down the overgrown grasses, and they were still discovering things.

  “I won’t go every day,” she warned them, looking up at the threatening clouds moving in.

  “Well, if you get stuck over there, we have the beds made up now,” Marion put in, grateful to have someone to watch the place for them, “and there are enough supplies to last you.”

  “How’s the stove working out?” she asked, remembering how hard they had worked with the steel wool. They chatted a few minutes to be polite, but they were anxious to make the long drive back to Massachusetts and get the rest of their things. Some of the things they had originally saved for their cabin would no longer fit or be appropriate, but they planned on using some of the furniture in the summer cabins for their guests, and they could build around other things.

  “I’m looking forward to hooking up my Easy Spindrier washing machine,” Barbara said nostalgically as they rode along in the truck.

  “Tired of washing on the board?” Marion teased. They had both hated that in addition to the long lines of drying they put out because they would sometimes have to rewash everything if the dogs, children, or sheep came through. The animals and children all learned to leave the wash alone on the lines, but occasionally, something still happened which forced the women to rewash things. They both agreed nothing could beat the smell of freshly laundered clothes from the line.

  “You have any knuckles left?” Barbara teased in return. She was curious about this drive she had heard so much about, and she was finding the roads were not as bad as she had heard. Perhaps, that was because it was later in the year, spring hadn’t yet damaged the dirt roads, some of the villages had filled their potholes, and some of their route was paved. They had to stop to change a tire outside of Portland, which was difficult with the trailer attached, but between the two women, they managed.

  “I bet I could learn to change a tire,” Richard said as they got back on the road and looked for a motel or hotel to stop at for the night.

  “I’m sure all of you will learn to change a tire,” Barbara told him, trying not to be irked by the male superiority she heard in his voice.

  Marion heard the tone in Barbara’s comment and reached out to squeeze her leg, assuring her it didn’t matter. They would raise two fine, young men and a lady between them, despite their earlier outside influences.

  “But why can’t we see Grandma and Grandpa?” Brenda asked after they slowly filled the trailer with the things from their storage unit the next day.

  “There simply isn’t time,” Marion tried explaining. She didn’t want to tell them that Grandma had been sending nasty, threatening letters, and with protective services involved, she didn’t want anyone to know she was in the state. At least, when they were in Maine, her mother-in-law didn’t have a leg to stand on and couldn’t influence anyone she knew to act on her behalf. She certainly couldn’t take the children away from their mother because she felt the grandparents would be better parents than she as a widow.

  Barbara caved and gave in to them stopping at the Chuck Wagon, a paramount-style diner that served food they all missed. Unfortunately, Brian Whiting Sr. and his wife, Gladys chose that night to go to the diner too. They caught Barbara and Marion on their way out.

  “Marion,” Gladys said in her cultured, Massachusetts accent. It sounded so fake on the old biddy.

  “Mama Whiting,” she replied over the cries of the children, who were so glad to see their grandparents they were shouting.

  “Grandma!”

  “Grandpa!”

  “Were you going to stop by?” Brian asked, hugging his namesake, amazed at how much he had grown and noting he needed a haircut, his fingers combing through the young boy’s overlong tresses.

  “Of course, we were just eating first as we knew you wouldn’t be expecting us,” Marion lied admirably.

  “Barbara,” Gladys said, her voice conveying a volume of meaning in that one word as she greeted the younger woman. She might not know the true relationship between her daughter-in-law and this woman, but she suspected they were more than friends and that thought was repugnant. Even if it weren’t true, the woman had too much influence over her friend, in her opinion.

  “Mrs. Whiting,” Barbara said in return, not the least intimidated by this pretentious woman.

  “You should have writt
en that you would be in town today,” she added for effect as she hugged Brenda and looked at the two women over the little girl’s head.

  “We weren’t sure when we would get in with the roads,” Barbara said truthfully, although they’d had no intention of looking up either Marion’s in-laws or her own mother. She was still annoyed that Brent hadn’t been allowed to come up and help. He’d also told her not to send letters to him at the house anymore because he wasn’t certain their mother would let him have them. He asked her to send them in care of a friend.

  “Surely you have time for dessert?” Brian asked in a hearty tone, pleased to see his son’s children as he hugged them.

  “We just had strawberry sundaes Pop-pop,” Brenda told him ingeniously.

  “Well, we just got here, and we’ve hardly seen you,” Gladys told them with just the right amount of hurt in her voice to guilt trip the children. She looked at Marion with a warning glance, her eyes traveling between the two women over what she considered their impulsive and irresponsible behavior. Buying an island, indeed! Who did that? It was probably this Barbara’s influence over her gullible daughter-in-law.

  “We were just about–” began Marion, but Barbara interrupted her.

  “We would love to sit with you for a while,” she put in with a false smile. “But only for a few minutes cause we’re meeting someone.” She turned to Richard, who had been watching the effusive greetings his friends had gotten from their grandparents.

  Before she could stop him, Richard asked, “Who?” She pushed him along towards an empty booth but was stopped.

  While keeping his hands around his grandchildren’s shoulders, Brian reached out to clasp Richard’s shoulder. “How you doing there, old chap?” he said heartily.

  “I’m good, sir. Thank you,” he responded respectfully and smiled.