Fair Isle later gave its name to a famous series of non-repetitive knitwear patterns, once believed to have been introduced by the shipwrecked Spanish sailors. More probably, the patterns derived from ancient Nordic designs, because Norseman had settled on the island long before the sixteenth century.
At least eight different species of birds could be seen on the island. In 1935 an ornithologist named George Waterson visited Fair Isle and he was so enthralled by its birdlife that he hoped to purchase the island and develop a bird observatory there. His plans were interrupted when he became a German prisoner of war during World War II, but by 1948 he had achieved his ambition.
The nature reserve which Waterson created gave the island’s economy a much-needed postwar boost. But knitting, crofting, and fishing still thrived.
In 1954 the National Trust of Scotland took over from Waterson and it made many improvements, including a mail boat pier at North Haven, and eventually remodeling the Bird Observatory and Hostel—the latter a pleasant overnight stopping place, able to accommodate up to two dozen visitors.
The crew of the Rock Dove booked rooms in the Hostel, giving themselves a chance to sleep on dry land again, if only for one night. Their stay on Fair Isle was quite restful. Stash visited sites associated with the Spanish shipwreck, interviewed knitters at work, and of course he encouraged Carter to film the omnipresent birds.
At dusk, with an hour or so to kill before dinnertime, Stash invited Carter to accompany him on a stroll. Birds were everywhere, darting through the skies or scurrying about on the ground. The birds were so accustomed to human visitors that some of them swarmed around the two men’s feet and seemed to be accompanying them on their walk.
“These birds are cute, but I’m surprised this island stays afloat, under the weight of all the accumulated bird shit,” Carter joked.
“You’re a cynic. You have no poetry in your soul.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to take up my romance quotient a notch,” Carter promised.
“Yeah, but for that you’d need a partner.”
“True. Let’s see. There’s always Martin. Maybe I should make a date with him, for a quick blow job.”
“Shame on you. You’re incorrigible,” Stash complained.
“Oh, were you thinking about me hooking up with someone closer to hand?” Carter teased Stash.
“Far be it from me to interfere with your sex life, even by making suggestions about your possible options. By the way, have I told you how much I’m enjoying working with you?” Stash asked.
“No, you haven’t,” Carter replied. “Not often enough, anyway.”
“Well, I apologize for the oversight. You’re very good at your job, and you’re easy to get along with.”
“Thanks, Stash. I’m glad to hear that.”
There was a pause. Then Stash went on, “Uh, this is your cue to tell me you feel the same way about working with me. Or don’t you?”
“Oh, sorry. Of course. You’re all right,” Carter acknowledged. Realizing that this might be a classic example of damning with faint praise, he amended his opinion at once. “You’re fine. As long as you’re on dry land,” he added, unable resist the temptation to tease Stash a little. “On the water, pissing and moaning, and puking your guts out, let’s face it—you suck.”
“I’m getting better! You must admit that,” Stash protested.
“Yeah, you haven’t run to the head or leaned over the railing and puked in a while,” Stash conceded, graciously. “Which makes spending the nights in the cabin with you, in such close quarters, a hell of a lot more pleasant. Thank God for small mercies. Bill and Alonzo don’t seem to mind shacking up together, either.”
“Bill and Alonzo are used to roughing it. They’re good traveling companions. They tolerate me,” Stash said, wryly. “My quirks, I mean. And the inevitable inconveniences. Speaking of which—do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“Sex,” Stash said, bluntly. “Getting it on a regular basis, I mean, as opposed to a quickie here and there.”
“Oh. That. I’m not a particularly sexually obsessed being, I guess. I can switch it off, when I have to. Back home in New York, I didn’t really do all that much whoring around.”
“Ha! Listen to you. What a lie! I know a real, sexually active stud, when I see one.”
“You think I’m a stud?” Carter asked.
“You’ll do, as a reasonable facsimile of one,” Stash teased him. “Admit it. You’re very sexual. A guy with a very strong sex drive.”
“Well, maybe I am. But that’s kind of difficult to manage, here on board a small boat, with the lack of privacy. Although the other night I did wake up in the middle of night. I needed to take a leak, so I made my way to the head in the dark. Bill and Alonzo had their cabin door propped open, to get some air, and when I passed by it, I heard some heavy breathing coming from Alonzo’s bunk. I’m embarrassed to say I sneaked a peek in the dark. He was giving himself a quick wank, as the Brits call it, under his blanket, while Bill was dead to the world in his bunk, not suspecting a thing. I couldn’t blame Alonzo. I’m overdue to drop a load, myself.”
“So am I. Want to do it together?”
“Jesus, Stash! Now who’s being unromantic? Nothing subtle about your approach, is there?”
“I’m just being honest. What’s the matter? I’m not your type?”
“It isn’t that. It’s the whole idea of fooling around with my boss.”
“Technically, I’m not really your boss. We both work for the network.”
“Still, sex in the workplace—that can get awkward.”
“Only if we allow it to,” Stash protested. “Don’t get me wrong, Carter. I’m not proposing that we get into a relationship. Just that we get together to take care of business. No expectations, no demands, no strings. Just giving ourselves a chance to relieve our natural urges. No harm, no foul.”
“Well—when you put it that way—!”
“All the rooms here in the Hostel are doubles,” Stash pointed out. “When we checked in, I automatically had them pair us up the same way we are on the boat, you and me in one room, Bill and Alonzo in another. Alonzo gave me a look. He said he was surprised I didn’t want to suggest that we mix things up a bit, just for the sake of variety. I told him that you and I wanted to room together—so we can discuss the upcoming episodes tonight, before we go to bed. Think he suspects anything?”
“There’s nothing to suspect—is there?—so far,” Carter reminded the other man.
“True.”
“Although Alonzo’s no fool. Neither is Bill, to say nothing of the other guys on the boat.”
“True, again. But even in the worst-case scenario—that is, somebody assumes we’re fooling around—so what? It’s none of their goddamn business. I’m prepared to brazen it out, if you are.”
“Got it all thought out, don’t you?” Carter asked, with a grudging but sincere admiration. “But, Stash, before we commit ourselves to anything, I must warn you—”
“About what?”
“About me. I’m fun-loving. Free and easy. Independent, and accountable to no one. Okay—in plain English, promiscuous as hell, would be the other word for it. I like to play the field. Take me or leave me, but don’t delude yourself. Don’t think you’re going to change me.”
“That’s honest.”
“Honest, yeah. I do try to be. But is it acceptable to you?”
“I don’t expect any more than you’re prepared to give, Carter. There. Isn’t that fair?”
“Fair enough. All right, I’ll go along with it, with that sort of a compromise, if you’re willing to.”
Stash flashed his cameraman an impish grin. “Go along with it? That’s flattering. You could show a little more enthusiasm, you know. You could lie. You could tell me you’re dying to get it on with me, and to hell with what anybody thinks.”
“I don’t believe your ego needs any stroking in order to survive,” Carter retorted. “Right now, I’m
looking forward to eating a good dinner, and sleeping in a real bed. I’ll worry about whatever comes between those two activities—well, when it happens.”
Stash laughed. “Ah, you seductive smooth talker, you! At last, I’m going to experience romance at its fullest!”
And so, after dinner, Carter found himself shut up alone with Stash, in a small but comfortable room with twin beds.
“Well—here we are,” Carter said, awkwardly.
“Yeah. Having second thoughts?” Stash asked.
“No. Of course not. I’m a little self-conscious, that’s all.”
“You’ll get over it,” Stash predicted.
“I’m sure I will.”
“If you’re not sure about this—then we can always sleep quite chastely, in these separate beds.”
“No, Stash. I really do want to have sex with you. It’s just that—this all seems kind of impersonal and calculated, so far. Give me a minute to get into the right frame of mind.”
“Sure. Take all the time you need.”
“Maybe I’ll take a shower first.”
“Have you checked out the bathroom yet?” Stash asked.
“No, I haven’t had a chance to. I’m surprised that each room has one.”
“A reminder that this place was built in a more gracious era, when travelers’ comfort really was a top priority. There’s a shower and a huge bathtub in there. The moment I saw it, I started planning to treat myself to a long hot soak.”
“Maybe I’ll do that, too. If you don’t mind me going first.”
“Go right ahead. Provided you leave the door open, so I can watch,” Stash said.
“I’ll do better than that. You can join me,” Carter suggested. He opened the bathroom door. The bathtub wasn’t just large. It was the old-fashioned kind, freestanding, on four legs. “Wow,” Carter exclaimed. “Look at that! When I suggested you could join me, I meant come in there and keep me company while I soaked. Now I’ve got an even better idea. Why don’t we just take a nice hot bath—together?”
“To save water?”
“To save water—and so we can scrub each other’s backs.”
“I’d like to scrub a lot more than just your back,” Stash confessed.
The mood between the two men was becoming increasingly intimate and sensual, and Carter had lost his uncharacteristic shyness. Having checked out the bathroom to his satisfaction, Carter glanced back at Stash and he saw that he was standing with his shirt off, exposing his broad hairy chest, his two pecs muscular and protruding, his nipples big, stiff cones. Stash’s palm was pressed against his crotch and he was slowly working it back and forth over the bulge his dick made in his jeans.
“Stop playing with yourself,” Carter said, mock-sternly. “That’s going to be my job.”
“Finally.”
“On board the boat—in the cabin—we’ve been prickteasing each other all this time, haven’t we?”
“I’ve wanted you,” Stash confessed. “I’ve done my best to control myself.”
“Lose control,” Carter invited the other man. “Give in to it. Do what we both want, what we’ve wanted all along.”
“Let’s get undressed. I want you naked,” Stash said. “God, I want to lick and suck your body, all over, taste your sweat, taste you all over—!”
He broke off in a gasp, squeezing his dick more roughly through his pants. Carter went over to him, his own cock beginning to swell to life in his jeans. He threw his arms around Stash’s naked back and hugged him close, pressing his lips full on Stash’s incredibly sensuous mouth.
They hadn’t kissed yet, but Carter made up for that now, feeling Stash’s soft, moist lips crushed against his own. As Stash opened them wide, Carter’s tongue pressed into his mouth, lapping and slurping at Stash’s own hot extension of limber flesh.
While they kissed, Stash ground his crotch up hard against Carter’s, and Carter could feel the swell of the other guy’s cock. He put his hands down behind Stash and felt his ass cheeks, the solid flesh of Stash’s buttocks jerking up and down when Carter massaged the two mounds roughly, feeling Stash’s jeans stretched taut over his cock bulge and his buns.
“Nice bubble butt you’ve got there, dude,” Carter murmured.
“Yeah? You like it? Well, it’s all yours,” Stash said.
Carter knelt in front of him and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans, then slowly unzipped the fly and, grasping both the jeans and the shorts under them, he peeled them down Stash’s hairy legs.
Stash stepped out of his pants and stood naked before Carter, his long, dark pink cock protruding enticingly from the furry thatch at his groin. Carter could see Stash’s big ball sac hanging below the penis like a pair of hair-covered ripe plums.
He rubbed his face lewdly against the tip of Stash’s cock, letting the slit at the end of it roll over his nose and cheeks. He ran his hand in under Stash’s tool, cupping his balls in his palm, then extended one fingertip into his ass crack.
His finger slid up inside the sweaty groove of flesh until it touched the puckered rim of the asshole itself. Carter inserted his finger and began pushing it gently in and out of Stash’s tight little pucker.
Stash writhed against him, spreading his thighs wide so that Carter could easily finger-fuck him as deeply as his probing finger could reach. Carter slid his finger quickly in and out, excited by the responsiveness of Stash’s ass. When he ran his finger in and out of his new sex partner’s asshole, his knuckles would press up against Stash’s butt, rubbing against the blond hair that grew so luxuriantly all along Stash’s anal cleft.
Stash’s big dick was sticking straight out, and Carter could see that it was undergoing spasms of arousal, the skin along its length twitching, the head pulsating with urgency. The piss slit was beginning to quiver, and shiny, pearl-like drops of jism formed in the tiny gap.
Carter slowly withdrew his finger, then he gave Stash’s moist, dripping prickhead a long, loving suck with his wet mouth.
“Oh, my God,” Stash moaned, as Carter fed on him.
Stash reached down and clutched at Carter’s shoulders, squeezing them through his shirt. His restless hands moved upward, stroking Carter’s neck. Then he found the fastening which held Carter’s pulled-back hair in place and he released it. His fingers buried themselves in his cocksucker’s long, loose hair, caressing it.
Carter’s mouth moved expertly back and forth on Stash’s erection, massaging it with his lips, tickling it with his tongue.
“You’ve got me so worked up already that I can’t take too much of that without coming,” Stash warned.
Reluctantly, Carter relinquished the other guy’s prick, which was now coated with his saliva.
“Let’s go take that bath together, buddy,” he whispered.
When Carter stood up and started to walk into the bathroom, Stash stopped him, grasping him by the biceps and drawing him back.
“Get naked first,” Stash growled lustfully, already unbuttoning Carter’s shirt and pressing his mouth against the other man’s bare chest.
He hadn’t shaved that day. He rubbed his heavily beard-stubbled face against Carter’s pectorals, and then he began sucking on his nipples. Stash nibbled at them, licked them, and sucked on them furiously—and the sound of his mouth slurping noisily around his hard, throbbing tits, which ached in response to the pressure and friction, made Carter’s dick jerk so violently that he was afraid it was about to cream itself in his jeans.
“Fucker,” Carter moaned. “Oh, you goddamn nipple-loving fucker! Yeah—suck on my tits, boy!”
He reached down and massaged Stash’s hard cock, yanking savagely on its long, erect smoothness. Carter felt Stash’s hands tugging at his pants, undoing the belt buckle, and then the top button.
Stash unzipped Carter’s jeans slowly, letting his hand drag over Carter’s trapped hard-on; then he shoved his fingers under the tops of Carter’s pants and briefs and pulled them all the way down, so that they lay in a crumpled heap at Carter�
��s feet.
Stash then pressed his prick tightly up against Carter’s naked belly, pressing the cameraman’s tool up against it too. Stash ground his belly and cockshaft against Carter’s, forcing their two big dicks to mesh together and roll restlessly over and around each other’s bulk.
The two men stood that way, crushed tightly together, for several minutes, enjoying the erotic excitement of each other’s uninhibited masculinity, feeling naked cock rubbing and pressing potently against naked cock.
Their mouths met and they kissed each other with their tongues again, hard, drooling saliva, exulting in the freedom of being able to touch and rub each other’s nude bodies wherever they chose.
Stash pulled Carter into the bathroom, turning on the fluorescent ceiling lights and starting to fill the oversized tub with hot water. As he bent over to fiddle with the taps, adjusting the temperature, Carter got behind him and pressed his throbbing erection against Stash’s spread crack and rubbed it up and down gently.
“You’re going to fuck me with that big, hard thing before the night’s over, aren’t you?” Stash demanded. “It’s what I’ve wanted ever since I met you. Are you going to give it to me at last?”
“Yeah, man,” Carter grunted. “My hot prick is going to end up stuck right up your pretty little butthole, and I’m going to shove it in you all the way and pound you until we both come.”
Stash groaned, obviously turned on by the thought, as he filled the tub about half full of steaming water. Then he got in naked and sat down, helping Carter to step in after him. At first, Stash sat in the soothing hot water with his back to Carter, resting against the other man’s chest and pressing Carter’s dick up against his belly.
“Ah,” Carter exclaimed, as the hot water enveloped him. “This feels really good! It’s almost better than coming.”
“But not quite,” Stash agreed. “Anyway, you aren’t going to have to choose between those two pleasures tonight. I’m going to make sure you enjoy them both.”
Carter ran his hands over Stash’s chest, caressing that wide expanse of solid, smooth muscle. He played with Stash’s nipples, looking down at them over his shoulder and seeing that both tits were huge cones of dark brown flesh jutting out from the pecs, which were matted with blond, curly hair—now soaking wet and plastered against Stash’s sleek skin. His employer was indeed a hot young man.
Desire in the Isles Page 10
