...Larke pressed the tip of the vibrator against her slit. It felt cool compared to her memories of Andries. She pressed the cold, plastic rod inside. It quickly warmed with her raging body heat.

She remembered the muggy heat generated by the close atmosphere of the hut. With just the three of them inside, she and the two huge men she was with, it seemed like a dollhouse-sized space. She’d read of the slaves who worked the salt and how six of the men would be packed into one of these dwellings. Shocking to her senses, but feeling Andries on top of her and Ramon behind her, naked and sweating, arousal mingling with dense salt air had her senses dizzy with the modern moment of being sandwiched between Ramon and Andries. It hadn’t felt like the present, it had felt timeless, as she allowed them to touch her. It was as though time had stopped and the primeval atmosphere curled around them all, claiming their passion. The phantom echoes of their cries, the overpowering scent of sex and salt air had filled her thoughts for months afterward. As she wondered and remembered, longed and prayed for Ramon to come for her.

Suddenly, a warm hand curled over hers on the vibrator.

“Let me help you,” Ramon’s deep chest rumbled behind her.

The vibrator slipped deeper inside her.

“Tease your clit,” he said as he took control of the toy fucking her. And she allowed him to do so. She wanted him to take control, just like she had all those years ago.

And then he flicked the switch and the vibrations rippled through her body, one after the other, again and again as he built up the momentum.

“Ramon,” she cried out when she couldn’t stand it any longer and she arched upward. An orgasm swept through her, unexpectedly intense and earth shattering. It was like being thrown into the sea on the eastern side of the island where great plumes of water vaulted into the sky. Wild waves rocked against her again and again and again.

Ramon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. The air conditioning hummed, surrounding them with cool, manufactured air. So unlike that late summer on Bonaire, when sweat-soaked bodies clung together, rutting and riding, stroking and urgent. Young, lithe animals, without a care in the world except for the pleasure they enjoyed in each other.

By the time they’d crawled out of the narrow space, the sun had almost completely set. Naked except for flip-flops to protect their tender soles from the ragged crushed rock, they had run hand-in-hand toward the water. The cooling waves refreshed them and they laughed and played, touching and kissing as the moonlight embraced them, battling with the waves and each other, until they were so exhausted they finally left to dress.

She had gone with Ramon on his scooter. Her arms curled tightly around his solid midriff as she clung to him, the wind drying her salt-encrusted hair. She had loved it. The memories of the place, of the men, of the sea, always represented joy to her. That much could never change.