More than half a year has gone by since Bonnie and I were rescued off that island. They, I'm not sure who exactly, named that island after us: Watson-Kemper Island. Watson is my last name, and Kemper hers. The media went wild over our story. Two VF-150 Passengers Survive for Two Years on Undiscovered Island. Bonnie and I had about one week at the hospital before we were discharged into the world where we were swarmed by everyone - everyone. At first there was genuine care about us. Of course the world would be curious to know how we survived for two years, and what it was like to be back in civilization. But it all very quickly became a free-for-all for anyone who wanted to make quick money from us. They wanted more than interviews: documentaries, appearances on Dr. So-and-so's show, movie deals, book deals. Half a year. It took half a year for the world to finally forget us and move on to the next thing.
I had just graduated with a degree in engineering before the plane crashed into the sea. Now, with all the book and movie deals or what have you, I have enough money to live modestly till the end of my days. I didn't know Bonnie before the accident, but we of course we became good friends on that island. We didn't have anyone else. Bonnie didn't need to work anymore either, but she went back to being a lawyer and a wife. The last time I saw her was two months ago when we were on some breakfast show. She and her husband lived two states over, and they were in town to visit.
Of all the places to go, my girlfriend Jenna dragged us to this shitty club. She said some awesome EDM DJ was playing here tonight. What was she thinking? Bonnie and her husband Joe, a pair of forty-year olds, at a dance club with ear-piercing music? To be fair though, Jenna and I used to go clubbing all the time before the accident. I don't know. Something must have changed since then, but I just don't feel like I fit in here. But in any case, Bonnie and Joe were good sports and came along.
"You only live once, right?" Bonnie had said.
For most people, that line was overused, but it meant something real for Bonnie and me. Jenna lent Bonnie one of her halter dresses. The longest one she could find was a green one that ended just above the knees.
That awesome DJ was really stirring up the crowd now. I couldn't hear a fucking thing. Jenna seemed to be having a blast. She ran into a couple girlfriends and they were dancing, if you can call it that. Joe was surprisingly enjoying himself too. He had quite a few drinks and a crowd of youngsters had taken a liking to him, so they were nearby being 'bros'. Bonnie and I were leaned up against the bar, sipping on whiskey. We were just watching. I finished my drink and turned to set my glass down. Bonnie was setting hers down too. We caught each other's eyes, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. What the fuck are we doing here? We chuckled.
In the next moment we were weaving through the horde of dancing drunks. Bonnie was holding on to my wrist and leading the way. We reached the restroom and she shoved open the door. Just as we were going in, a guy and a girl were coming out, fixing their clothes. Bonnie rushed us to an open stall. We filed in and locked the stall door behind us. I was breathing heavily and so was she. Her shaking hands were fumbling with my belt and fly but she managed to undo them. I spun her around and shoved her towards the wall more roughly than I intended. Bonnie threw her hands out against the wall. My hands lifted her dress and my fingers found the elastic of her panty. An easy tug and I had them down enough for me to go into her. I went into her forcefully, but boy was she wet.
"Fuck me," she demanded.
I thought I was having a heart-attack. I hadn't felt my heart beat so fast since our plane was falling towards the sea. I gripped Bonnie's hips and I started fucking her hard.
"Yeah! Fuck me!"
