Island Retreat 3: Part Two

A look passed between the two young adults. A devilish smile was shared between the two.

Without looking at Marla, James said, “We’ll be back in a little bit.”

Selma wasn’t long in getting back to the dock. When she did, she bobbed her head around like a bird searching for the students.

“James? Maggie?”

“Save your breath,” Marla said with a wave of her hand. “They’ve gone off to explore.”

As if to punctuate the look of disgust on her face, the captain snarled some choice foul language in his native tongue. Marla might not have been able to decipher the precise meaning of the words, but their spirit was easy to detect.

“I told you,” Selma growled, “that they were not to go off on their own. Who knows what will happen if they get lost. You could ruin this whole trip with your stupid, careless decisions, Marla.”

Marla liked the way the accent grew stronger when Selma was upset. And the way her eyes were alight with the fire in her belly. It would be nice to kiss her right now, to feel that passion in her arms.

“They are adults. Besides, it’s not like I told them to go off. You were over the hill, I was talking to the captain, and when I turned around they were gone. I suppose we could ie them to the dock, but short of that… They are young, Selma, and they are on this big adventure. Give them a little grace, huh?”

The anger was draining from Selma’s face and her shoulders sagged. “I know. But you are a bad influence on them, Marla. You like to play things too fast and loose. That’s what’s going to get us in trouble.”

“It’s a small island with a resort on it in the Pacific. We aren’t far from our destination, and we only stopped because we are taking an abundance of caution. Selma, you have to relax, just a little bit.”

“Will you help me find them, at least?”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

Selma’s look said she didn’t completely buy Marla’s good-natured helper routine, but she wasn’t turning it down, either. Marla followed while Selma followed her back over the rise of the hill, down the trail and calling the names of the students in regular intervals.

Maggie and James followed the thin trail up and over the hill and into a valley carpeted by high green grass. Maggie ran her hand over the tops of the blades and a cool ocean breeze dipped into the valley and bent the blades. The undulations made the valley appear as a green ocean, waves of grass bending and rising in its natural rhythm. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of the clean air.

“This place is like heaven.”

“Would that make you an angel?”

James hooked her around the waist and pulled her close. She was lithe and light and he easily lifted her off her feet when he kissed her. She opened her mouth for the deepening of that kiss, running her fingers through his trimmed hair. There was an electricity moving between them, a mutual need that made their bodies hum with want. James kissed her again and she whimpered at the end of it.

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

She smirked, a half-smile she wore of ten and easily. “Why don’t we find a nice spot and you can show me f you mean it?”

“Gladly,” he said, and kissed her again. His cock was hard and wanting. He took her by the hand, pulling her along out of the valley and over another rise. They were far from the dock now, and neither thought of what might come by being so far from home and so far from their one tether to safety. Such is the glory of youth and the impulsivity of desire.

Before the field came into view, they heard the animal sounds of lowing in the distance.

“Is it a farm?” Maggie asked. “Maybe the resort is one of those farm to table experience places. I bet they have all kinds of animals. Let’s go see!”

“I thought you wanted to find some place to get in some fun times for us.”

“I do,” she assured him, “but I want to see. You know how I love animals. Let’s go look. Please?”

“I can refuse you nothing, Blondie,” he teased, and followed her while she led him toward the source of the sounds. He admired her lean, tan legs as she climbed another small rise, and the firmness of her ass when she bent to climb over the top of it. He was eager to remove those shorts and sink himself into her delicious delta. He was still hard, his engine still idling very high. He could relate to he animals Maggie hunted for. There was something universal about the need to rut, and he was tempted to grab her, to tell her they were going to fuck there and now. But he loved her, too, and could not refuse her childlike curiosity to see whatever petting zoo the resort kept.

Only what awaited them was not the usual field of cows. There was grass, yes, and a wooden fence that ran far in both directions before turning away from the students and toward the resort in the distance. The field was patchy where the cows had eaten the grass, James assumed, but that notion let as foreign and unnatural as the sight greeting them. For the cows in the field were not precisely cows. They were women. Naked, on all fours, their heads lifting from the ground and turning up to look at Maggie and James at the edge of the fence. Their skin was painted to emulate the spots and coloring of genuine cows. Some also had tags hanging from their ears. And all of them had heavy tits – udders James thought – that swung when they moved, engorged nipples and full breasts that begged to be milked.

“What are they?” Maggie asked. She instinctively took James’s hand and squeezed it tight.

James opened his mouth to answer, but no sound escaped. How could he tell her that the sight of the human cows horrified him and confused him, but something also stirred in him that aroused him. His earlier considerations of animals and their base desires came back to him, and he could not resist the fantasy of mounting one of these cow-women, to feel himself engaged in the most animal of carnal pleasures.

“We should go,” he managed.

It was Maggie who led them away. She tugged his hand and, eventually, he followed.

While several small trails ran from the main one like rocky capillaries, Marla and Selma made their way down the clearest and widest of the paths. It led to the large house at the end of it, a stucco mansion that grew in size with very step. A wooden fence ran along the sides of it and disappeared into the green ocean surrounding the house and extended behind the mansion. To the right of the house’s entrance, there sata traditional red-painted barn with tall and wide double doors, the front barred at present to keep any animals within in their place. Marla’s eyes shifted to the barn often, listening intently for any sounds that might come from the interior.

“It’s going to rain,” Selma noted.

The air had grown heavy on their journey to the house, and dark clouds gathered overhead. As they grew close enough that they might have been able to call out to the owner of the house, a low rumble of thunder crawled across the sky above them, a giant stirring in those dark clouds.

“The children might be caught in the rain,” Selma added.

“They are not children. And they will be fine. They’ll probably be back at the boat by the time we get back.”

“Maybe we should head back, then?”

“Don’t be silly. We’re here. We should ask the owner of the house, at least, if they’ve seen James and Maggie. Besides, aren’t you the littlest bit curious about this place? Who has a place in the middle of nowhere like this?”

“People with something to hide.”

Marla laughed. “That much we can agree on. And I want to see what it is they’re hiding.”

The closer they came to the house, a sound was rising. It took Marla a moment to place it, and then she recognized it as the lowing of cows somewhere in the fields behind the house. Her pace picked up until they found the front entrance. It was w oden door, curved at the top, with a heavy iron knocker.

“I have a bad feeling about this. I think we should go.”

“Don’t be such a worrywart.”

Marla grabbed the iron ring and banged the door three times.

“We should go,” Selma said, but it was too late. The door was opening.

“May I help you?”

Marla’s breath caught in her throat. The woman opening the door was older, perhaps in her late forties or early fifties, but the island life preserved her well. Her skin was a natural tan, and she had dirty blonde hair that ran in long curls onto her shoulders. Her cheekbones were very high and gave her an aristocratic air. With her flowing green dress and marvelous and piercing green eyes, Marla thought she might have been one of the most striking women she’d ever seen.

“Hello,” Selma said, breaking the awkward silence left by Marla’s gawking. “Our boat needed some repairs and so we ended up at your dock. We are very sorry to intrude, but we seem to have lost two members of our party. Have you happened across any college students that might be out exploring?”

The woman’s eyes moved from Marla to Selma and back again. She also had an accent when she spoke, but hers was a deep-throated Catalan.

“I have not. And do not apologize for intruding. There are only guests here, and me. I am Carmen. Would you like to come inside?”

“Yes, please,” Marla answered, already stepping past Carmen into the mansion. Selma sighed and entered behind her. Carmen closed the door.