I wasn't going to continue with this on here, but the positive reception has prompted me to post another test chapter for this story. Hopefully this one is as well received as the first. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

by: Paul Layman

Their eyes drifted from the distant shore to the abrasive voice of the Ferry's captain, whom seemed like a broken down sack of flesh who was held in motion by hatred of the world. His face was puckered, weathered and hardened by a lifetime of a briny breeze adding several decades to an already advanced age. A sad soul, bereft of love and affection for an epoch so extensive he'd probably forgot the tingle of delectation of a woman's caress. He almost felt bad for the Captain, and gave his head a simple shake as he pried his eyes away and turned them back to their destination. She, however, kept looking unto the pathetic little man. Hard living has twisted the elderly man into a statue of iron, hardened by a life time of labor, his heart hardened into granite. A real man as defined by popular opinion, unfeeling and dangerous. She sighed, half in a persistent wish that her paramour held some of those distinctive traits attributed to that type of male, and half in the anguish she'd empathetically aggregated from the Captain.

The ferry moved at a snail's pace, the distant shore never gaining any distance as they remained poised on the bow of the large vessel. The steel of the ferry twisted under a steady battering of small waves, pounding the sides of the ship in an attempt to applaud the triumphant voyage they were all embarked upon. Nature was rooting for them, urging them to reach their destination to allow the effusion of ecstasy between the lovers to explode in a paroxysm of orgasmic ardor. But the breadth of this era attributed to the travail of these nautical miles began to quell the fires which raged within their guts. His arms tightened around her slowly, attempting to squeeze a reaction out of her but she abnegated him the pleasure of her moan. This caused him to lean forward so that his lips brushed her ear before speaking in a breathy whisper.

"What's the matter, Dera?" His voice was a rich baritone, ragged at it's edges like he'd spent a portion of his life in a love affair with tobacco.

Dera turned her bright brown eyes upwards in an attempt to see his face, whom was encroached too closely for her to be able to do that so she settled for raising her arm up so that her hand could coil long chocolate strands of her swain's mane around their fingertips.

"The tedium of this ferry is just making me lethargic." Dera's voice was the opposite of her lover's. It was light, sultry and smooth as melted caramel. It was a musical melody which struck all the right chords in his mind and was all that was required to stoke the flames of passions into an inferno beset on burning Dera from the inside.

"What're you's all going out there for anyway?" The voice belonged to neither Dera or her other, yet was spoken with such a ferocity that they both jumped with a small start. They released their embrace and turned to face their auditory assaulter. It was the Captain. "Well, what Smith Island got for yous two?" He spoke again, his left hand rose up to snatch a brown pipe from the thin lipped line that the Captain would refer to as his mouth, replete with gray stubble which abounded around the orifice.

Dera looked to her fiance whom stepped forward to answer, since it was he who had initially made these plans of theirs. "A get away." The answer was simplistic, yet completely honest. These two were sojourning to the archaic isle to cut ties with the modern world and commit themselves, comprehensively and exhaustively, to each other and allow the world to continue it's revolution while overlooking the couple's private affections.

"This the last ferry 'til Monday." The Captain informed them, gesticulating with threatening jabs of his pipe in the direction of the two. "I don't know if'n it'll be a good idea to stay for that long. Bess to come back with me tonight. I can spare an hour." He informed, matter of factly, before turning and allowing his coiled frame to gain distance between the two.

He reached forward to try and garner the Captain's attention, Dera raised up and manually lowered his arm before speaking the following statement in a seductive whisper. "Let his ignorant ass waste his time. We will be busy else where." The conentation of the statement was clear, if the Captain wants to be so short with them, then they'd allow him to be and leave him standing at the dock with his cock in his hand. After speaking, Dera placed her lips against the side of his hand, allowing a nearly imperceptible series of osculations transcending the palm before allowing his finger tip entrance into her warm mouth where it gained a hard suck and a soft bite.

He moans in his throat, almost a growl which was stifled before it gained egress from his lips reigniting the devotion they were paying to their own physical forms. Her nubile curves, vivacious and ample was ebullient for his caress. His form was hardened with muscle, strong and stern until she crumbled his defenses with a touch of her hand or lips. Awakening a primal instinct within him to conquer the vestigial sexuality which society had implored them to remain clandestine until in seclusion, keeping the prize of Dera's penetralia free of his phallus. His seed leaping for freedom, aspiring to intermingle with Dera's fluids. Procreation without gestation. Sex with no preconceived notion to perpetuate life. Fucking for pleasure.

The Ferry jerked to a stop, causing Dera's hand to leap from his groin and his eyes to remove themselves from the anatomy of my demunitive companion. "One..." The same voice drifted across the winds of the estuary to the two's ears, as the man dropped a heavy gate down with a metallic clang. "...Hour." He completed the statement after the violent noise resonated through the still air.

A cold gust of wind pushed itself through their clothes, causing a shiver to travel up Dera's spine and him to draw her closer to his chest as a means of keeping her warm as the couple moved their way to enter their vehicle and head inland, yet they were stopped abruptly by the Captain of this ferry. "No Roads. Leave the car." He spoke, motioning to the land beyond the metal gate of the ferry to a skinny walking path which twisted up a hill like a soil ladden serpent coiled tightly as if to strike.

"Well what do we do with our vehicle?" He said, his groin calming from it's state of incompliant annealed immalleableness at the prospect of a long hike just to attain their destination.

"Leave it. It'd be here in an hour." The Captain's response was expected yet still struck a chord of despair within the two. But the rolling fields of the hill, verdant and vibrant, as lush as the Egyptian linen they'd probably receive in their hotel room, would make a perfect bed for the toiling of the lover's embrace.

"Lets just walk, Russ." Dera said, grasping her lover's hand and enclosing it with her own before beginning the walk off of the ferry. "I need to be moving." She added after a moment of tugging, which brought Russ to movement with her instigation.

They stepped off of the ferry and onto the dirt of the Island, continuing along the serpentine path as quickly as their legs could bring them while allowing their eyes to drift among the beautiful vistas for which they'd found themselves. It was strikingly beautiful. Miles of greenery on all sides of them, untouched by the advance of human technology leaving it pristine. It almost seemed unsettled as ancient trees rose up in the distance like the hands of god's who's outstretched fingers reached towards the heaven's which bore them. Foliage exploded in blooms of green and white, flowers drifting downwards with a cyclone of movement causing a blanket of achromatic peddles which added a sweet sapidity to the air, causing the atmosphere of the island infinitely pleasing to all senses of those who find themselves on the Island, and it added a serene aspect to their rigorous hike. Their feet toiled upon the path, ascending the hill which blocked the distance from their sight.