It was beautiful.

He asked her to be his bride and she tearfully agreed to become Mrs. Daniels with a tender embrace and passionate kiss. It was the happiest moment of his life as he began to imagine how beautiful she'd be at the alter, across from him, agreeing before the church and their families to stand by his side from here until eternity. From his knee, he nearly leaped in exultation at her answer, drawing her close into a hug where they lost themselves into each other. Two bodies meeting, two souls entwining under the influence of a true and most feverish love. It was more then beautiful, it was perfect and it was also the first step in a systematic plan to sweep the soon-to-be Mrs. Daniels off of her feet with a romantic get-away to coincide with the fresh engagement.

He heard of a quaint little island, isolated from the rest of the world. Lack of cell phone towers means no mobile communications. No e-mails. No phone calls. The perfect place to become enraptured with each other, to fully give in to their primal urges and reaffirm a romance which was both passionate and frequent. He had already packed their bags and had them stowed in his car. He had contacted her boss and informed her of the secret plans, and had gotten the OK for the sudden week long vacancy. She was unaware, yet completely enamored with the idea once it was explained to her. He barely had to guide her to enter his vehicle, as she was willingly (skipping with a exuberance most thought reserved for the juvenile) escorting herself to enter the machine already. He jumped in, she clicked herself into safety, and he pulled out of the restaurant's parking lot where this scene had transpired.

The air was electric. The type of energy which was a catalyst for activity, fueled the events which lined up in an undetermined path and were commonly referred to as "life". It brought forth a vortex of spiritual and cosmic energy, swirling around the couple and enriching their lives by the influence of their lover. Visually enticing each other just by "being". Tickling their pallets with the scents wafting from themselves, their pheromones an aphrodisiac which yearned to be satiated by running rampant and ravaging each other in every way able to. His hand massaged her thigh, her fingers twirling through his wavy brown hair. He couldn't wait to get to the island and lose himself into the love and carnal pleasures of his fiance. She couldn't wait to receive him and gain a reminder of one of the reasons she loved him. His foot compressed the accelerator in an attempt to shorten the time it was to take to bring them to their destination. The speed of light wasn't fast enough. He wanted her. She wanted him. The car revved as it barreled down the highway towards the Bay Bridge. Traffic was light during this stretch of the state, seeing as how it was midday Wednesday.

Free Sailing. Hit the gas.

His feet met his floor mats and didn't stop at his leg tensed, trying to push the peddle through the floor to meet the blur of asphalt which carried them forth on their journey. A highway to eternal pleasure, the softest of touches and the roughest of thrusts which is the way she enjoyed it. Enthralled in her desire, combustion in the raging conflagration of her own passion which fraught every touch of theirs with steam and electricity. Enraptured together, mixing fluids, locomotion in unison driving the engines of desire until the endorphin erupted in their minds and they clung together as shivering piles of mindless emotions. Intoxicated with them, intermingled with the instinctual need to procreate in an attempt to proliferate their genetics and drive the human race's existence and the human desire to be happy. Endorphin was addicting, and they gorged themselves on it in each other's presence making the cabin of the car like a carnal house from the ancient houses of ill-repute. Like Nero at a banquet, they yearned for more then the monotony which they had to suffer and endure in order to reach their destination and liberate themselves from their inhibitions, clothes and personal space. They didn't want to be a couple, they wanted to become malleable and meld into each other to become one person, linked by flesh and fluid.

Her fingers stopped twirling his hair and drifted down, almost lazily comparative to the excitement which swelled within each of their guts and groins, and landed in his lap. She knew how to play him, and he knew how to enjoy it. Fingers gently grazing the top of his genitals with an ethereal caress which was almost imperceptible to him who's whole sense of being was attempting to will the vehicle down the highway faster. But it registered in his reptilian mind and obliged her touch by adding girth under her fingers. It thrilled her, and he returned the movement by tightening his grip on her thigh to the point of a dull ache which swept through her body likes waves. It thrilled her. They thrilled each other. This was one of the reasons they were to be legally wed in a few short months.

Under the malaise of each other's manual attentions, past the mists of frustration and desire and through the overabundant fields of pleasure and passion lie the Bay Bridge. A pale green steel monolith which rose upon the horizon and stretched across the heavens like a gateway through the clouds. It was a suspension bridge which stretched nearly three miles across the Chesapeake Bay, looping out over the murky waters before stretching back in to begin Queen Anne's County. It was sturdy, and usually crowded however the road before them lay gaping open like Mose's Red sea. Morning rush hour was a memory, albeit a recent memory, and the lunch rush was not yet upon them so if they could clear these next few small bastions of civilization, they would be free of traffic for several hours yet. The tedious monotony of this excursion was weighing down on him, turning his zest for life and zest for her into a bland tasteless entree at a French Restaurant. But with a turn of her hand and a grasp, his fire was reignited as the blood drained from his conscious brain and flooded his lower head.

Under her influences, the trip was manageable, and for that he was grateful. Under her nearly incorpoeral coercing, his erection sustained the ebb and flow of the earth's oceans, waxing and waning like the phases of the room. Flexing and relaxing like a muscle being excersised in an attempt to strengthen for she would have her way with it. Her will be done. Her orgasm must come. He would relish the opportunity to oblige her desires. Channeling and jackhammer, just the way she liked and she would relish being the recipient of his forecful forms of affection and punshiments. If she didn't bleed some where by the commencement of coitous, she was left feeling unsatisfied which was a state he never allowed her to be in.

Time progressed with a normal passage, intensifying the longing with the duration within the speeding vehicle. Loins ached with seperation and hearts shattered at the prospect of hours apart but under the skillful hand of her's and his vivid imagination, they occupied their own minds for long enough to finally arrive at their destination. When the car was pulled onto and parked on an archaic ferry, the two embraced and crashed into a deep osculation. Hands grasped, gripped and rended each other. Their bodies crushed the still air between them, shattering it with a soft thud of brests on chest. Their breath intermingled, dancing about their bandying tongues like a maelstrom of lechery repleat with an avidity so intense that he almost spilled his seed, fueld by her hours of toil while within the car. But the sensation passed and his boxer shorts remained only marginally soiled as his precum had soaked into the cotton previously. Once they pried their lips apart, much to the chagrine of a group of youths who'd taken interest in the lustful natures of the car's occupants, she leaned forward and placed her head on his chest, auscultating the rapidity of his heartbeat and judging that a fine indicator to his level of excitement.

But longing makes the heart grow fonder.

She leaned back and offered him a smile, which he was already wearing, before she slipped from the car and moved to the railing of the ferry where she propped herself with her pale face turned towards a distant shore. Familiar arms encircled her slender waist, steady and powerful as the man they belonged to. A caress of cheek on cheek and he had siddled his face up next to her's, meeting her gaze on the far shore.

"Smith Island." He said as a means to finally inform her of their temporary sanctuary. "A place where no one can reach us, and we can lose ourselves in each other."

The thought brought a smile to her face, thin lips curling upwards from the corners almost inperceptably like thoughts of long stretches of time beside him always did.

"If we can be alone, and forget about the world together, then I'm going to love it." She responded in a whisper, her voice barely audible as it traveled across the breeze which carried the salty smell of the water into their nostrils.

He turned and placed a kiss on her cheek as a loud metallic clang signified that the gate to the ferry had been raised. The ship jerked forward suddenly as they began their journey across the water way towards Smith Island, accompanied by a voice which rang out.

"Last ferry for today! No ships back to mainland until the morrow!" In a shrill tone, devastated by a thick southern accent.