Susan and Tiffany paddled silently back to their island camp. After they dragged the canoe ashore and tied it to a small tree, they began to plan supper for their guest. Tiffany stopped and looked at Susan.
"What just happened over there?"
Susan smiled. "Don't ask me. I have no clue. That was so unlike me I still can't believe I just went up there and grabbed the poor guy. But, since you asked me, I guess we were under a spell."
"A spell. What that was some kind of voodoo?"
"No, we were still coming back from a pretty intense experience, you and me. We were not exactly dressed and I bet it occurred to you just like it did to me that he's probably our midnight intruder."
Tiffany shoot her head. He picked up a comb from her kit and began to work some snarls out of her hair. Susan watched the gentle movement of Tiffany's un-haltered breasts, bobbing and swaying under her shirt. Tiffany noticed after a minute and said, "Turning you on again? The guy wasn't wearing boots."
Susan chuckled. "See? I noticed too. And to answer your question, sure it turns me on. In fact, I was turned on by my little nude act with Bill."
"Poor guy. Somebody else would have jabbed you with his woody." She paused. "We have to get around that. His injury. Shit. This could be difficult."
"I know. I'm still jazzed. So are you, right?"
"I think the thing to do is not say anything, let's try to be much more proper than we have to now." Tiffany started grinning, then giggling, and finally collapsed laughing to the ground. "Can we do that? Be proper, I mean." She went off into another giggling fit.
Susan laughed aloud at her friend's antics and said, "Well, at least we won't be competing for who gets to do first head." That sent them into renewed gales of laughter.
Eventually they calmed down and the erotically fueled euphoria of the day faded as darkness settled. With a nice fire and their lantern lit, the women arranged their site as well as possible and settled on a freeze-dried ham and potato dinner for the three of them. The cooler yielded some now thawed crab and whitefish pieces to combine with raw carrots and the last of the lettuce into a reasonable salad. The meal was cooking. Susan stood and looked out toward the dark lake where she knew Bill's camp was located. If he was still there.
Then she heard a small splash and the hollow sound a paddle makes tapping on a lightly loaded canoe. "Bill?" she called.
"That's me, old Bill." He drew nearer and now Susan saw a glow from a flashlight Bill had set into the bottom of his canoe. Expertly he turned and aligned the prow with the small beach and with two strong strokes, send the canoe onto the ground. Susan took the painter coiled at the bow and tied it to a small sapling at the water's edge. She offered Bill a hand out of the canoe which he ignored. When he came ashore Susan realized Bill's penetrating gaze was fixed on her face, searching, she presumed, for any sign of pity.
She smiled a tremulous smile and took his hand. "I want to apologize for something I said this afternoon. I hope I didn't offend you. I know there's no such thing as an ex-marine. I misspoke."
Bill raised his eyebrows as they went toward the fire where Tiffany was crouched waiting. "That's right, there are dead marines and active marines and former marines. No ex-marines. I know you meant no offense and there is none taken." He smiled and turned his fierce gaze on the woman by the fire. "Tiffany, right? I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
She grinned, "Well, it's nice to see you again. I guess we've all seen quite a lot of each other in the past few hours, hey?"
She stopped abruptly with her mouth open. Then all three burst into laughter. Bill shook his head and shucked his back pack. He sat down on the blanket beside the fire and started rummaging inside the small pack. When Susan started to sit beside him, Bill stopped her and asked that she sit across the fire next to Tiffany. They both looked questioningly at him.