With his heart beating wildly, Cooksey reached out and guided his phantom lover into the sleeping bag.
Afterward, he would never forget the hot, smooth feel of her skin and the sweet, floral scent that permeated her every pore. The only greeting was a silent communication that emanated from her almond-shaped eyes as she expertly peeled off Cooksey’s sciwies and positioned herself on top of him. Without a word, he responded to her urgent touch. Her soft lips merged with his as he penetrated her hot depths.
Time came to a standstill. The only thing that mattered was prolonging the pleasure that her touch induced. Thrusting his manhood into her with short, quick strokes, he felt like the hull of a ship plunging through a surging sea.
Nor did it matter when he realized that an unknown number of tiny, dark-skinned figures had totally surrounded them. Again it proved to be the light of the stars that illuminated these wild-eyed miniature humans dressed in shiny grass skirts. Fear and shame were far from Cooksey’s mind, for these Lilliputian visitors seemed to sanctify his frantic coupling.
The hint of rising seed increased the rhythm of his thrusts. Unable to hold himself back, he succumbed to a heart-stopping climax. Sleep again clouded his mind, and the last thing he remembered was his lover covering him with a lei of purple orchids. As the first hint of dawn colored the eastern sky, he slipped off into a dreamless slumber, his lips sealed in a satisfied smile.
He awoke to the warming rays of the morning sun.
The night’s vibrant vision still painted his consciousness with pleasure, but soon the images began to fade.
Groggily, he sat up and desperately attempted to hold on to the blissful recollections. Try as he could, his attempts failed. Unable to recall the dream’s exact progression, he only remembered that something about it was all too real. It was only then that he turned and laid eyes on the volcanic stone wall that formed his camp’s northern perimeter. Etched on this surface were a number of intricate petroglyphs, recognizable now by the light of the sun. The tiny, grass-skirted natives represented in this ancient drawing filled him with a familiar warmth. Looking down to the base of the wall, he spotted a pile of fresh orchid petals, painting a vibrant purple swatch on the pale white sand. Upon seeing this, a vision rose in his mind’s eye.
The tall, thin, brownskinned native had come to him in the night with a single message. The events of the last few days made this lesson obvious. He had been taking his career much too seriously. In the process, he had failed to take the time to rediscover his real self.
Above all, he had to learn to trust his instincts. There was certainly nothing shameful in experiencing self-pleasure. Life without it would be cold and dry. Revisualizing the exotic ghost who had brought him the key to this secret, Cooksey rose to take a swim and then continue his day’s explorations in earnest.
Chapter Five
The morning was gray and frigid as Petyr Valenko returned to the naval base. Oblivious to the drifts of newly fallen snow, many of which were knee-deep or better, he pushed himself forward as briskly as possible.
Crews of workers were visible in the streets, busy manipulating their brooms and shovels in an effort to clear the icy precipitation. Little motor or pedestrian traffic was apparent, although Valenko passed a jubilant gang of bundled up children headed into the park with their sleds and toboggans in tow.
The young captain’s thoughts were far from the inclement weather conditions as he continued on. The night just passed had been one of the most wonderful, joyous evenings he had experienced in a long time.
Except for a brief affair three years ago, no woman had attracted him as Ivana did. She was charming and sensuous, with a keen intelligence and a quick wit. Even though they had known each other for an extremely short time, he could already relate to her as an acquaintance of many years. Of course, mutual physical attraction had a good part to do with their initial relationship.
In the past, when Valenko made love to a woman it too often became but a one-sided operation. He took what he wanted physically and rarely felt any emotional bonds developing. From the moment that he met Ivana, he immediately sensed a difference. Confident and poised, she responded to him as an equal.
Just as she satisfied his longings, so he had satisfied hers.
The alcohol had served as the icebreaker; the snowstorm — and the conveniently vacant apartment — had sealed their fates. Their initial lovemaking had served to whet his appetite. Never before had his hunger been so insatiable. All through the night they were linked together. Each time that Ivana shuddered in orgasm, he was wildly driven to give her more. This morning their passion had still been evident. The warm, soft touch of her skin and her sweet, musky scent were still with him when he reluctantly left to fulfill his present duty. Already he was looking forward to the moment of his return.
Aware of an alien soreness in his loins, Valenko grinned as he set eyes on the guard shack perched at the base’s entrance. A smile still painted his face as he pulled out his credentials and flashed them before the bored sentry. With a salute, he entered.
Unlike the portion of Petropavlovsk through which he had just passed, the base was alive with activity.
Snowplows had already cleared the streets, allowing for a variety of truck and auto traffic. As he crossed the administrative complex, he noticed a large contingent of over a hundred workers furiously clearing the snow from the recently built reviewing stand and bleachers.
He found the going a bit more treacherous in the warehouse sector.
There, a thick sheet of ice covered the narrow, dark passageways.
Several times Valenko lost his traction and went sliding. One of these excursions landed him hard on his buttocks.
Because of the conditions, this sector held little traffic. Alone in the slippery alleyways, he considered backtracking to follow a safer, yet considerably longer path down to the sub pens. But this was his usual route and the footing probably wasn’t that much better elsewhere.
The distant cry of a gull and the nearby scent of the ocean called him on.
After crossing a particularly treacherous intersection he had but a single block to go. He moved cautiously down an alley flanked by a pair of huge, corrugated warehouses. An elevated construction scaffold clung shakily to the building on his left. The latticed, steel catwalk had long since been abandoned, its workers waiting for more reasonable weather to complete their tasks. A bone-chilling gust of wind swept up the alley from the sea, and Valenko could hear the rattle of the catwalk’s rigging as it scraped up against the side of the warehouse.
Ducking his head into the gale, he decided to proceed quickly now, before becoming frozen in his tracks.
Valenko’s progress went unimpeded, until a scrambling black cat darted from the shadows to his right, skidded, found its traction and dashed in front of him. Surprised by the unexpected movement, he stopped short, heart pounding. Then he heard an ear shattering tearing sound.
Glancing upward, Valenko watched in disbelief as the steel scaffolding came away from the building. Instinctively, he dove backward just as the catwalk crashed to the pavement. Gasping for breath, he raised his head and saw the smashed and twisted metal beams only inches in front of him.
As the debris settled, he saw a bloody black tail amongst the wreckage, and knew that the cat, which had most probably saved his life, hadn’t been as fortunate.
Shaken, he looked up and caught sight of the frayed cord to which the catwalk had been attached. It hung from the roof uselessly, swaying in the stiff, frigid breeze. Despite the cold, Valenko’s body was covered with a thick sheet of nervous sweat. A ripe candidate for pneumonia, he knew that he had to get to shelter at once. Since there were no apparent witnesses, he decided to push on to the Vulkan. There he could take proper refuge and report this near-tragedy to the base authorities. Most aware that the hand of fate had saved him from certain death, Valenko forced down a calming breath of air and continued shakily down the alley.