Prologue from FIRST ESCAPE

It was happening again. Why, would it never end, the past!
It seemed to catch up with Patricia every time she had a chance to find happiness.
How could she come to terms with what dominated her subconscious ?

She looked across at him, disbelief written all over her beautiful face as he spoke the words she never thought she would ever hear. "Patricia, you get your things, I take you back to your hotel. I have taken more shit from you than any other woman in my whole life," Mijka shouted in his Scandinavian accent, which now sounded far from sexy.

Without a word he got her bag and threw it into the dinghy, jumping in after it. Silently she followed with tears streaming down her face as they left the yacht behind and sped across the palm-fringed bay in the moonlight. As they approached the magnificent bungalow Patricia had rented on a private beach, the atmosphere was electric and the silence deafening between the lovers.

The moonlight seemed to illuminate a path through the water, but neither of them was aware at that moment of the sheer exotic beauty surrounding them. All too soon they arrived - Mijka made no effort to help her ashore. On the jetty Patricia paused for a moment to look once more at his handsome face, then with tears flowing, she walked away. Not a word had been spoken since leaving the yacht, it was as if they were strangers.

Patricia wanted more than anything to explain her dreadful behaviour to this man she loved more than life itself. Inside her head she was screaming out to him how sorry she was, to explain, but no words came.

All that dominated her mind as she walked away was the passion, love and pure physical pleasure they had bestowed on each other's body just a few hours ago. His tongue had probed and teased every inch of her lithe sensual form, bringing her to such a sense of ecstasy, it was as if an electric current ran through the very nerve endings of her body. Patricia sometimes felt she would stop breathing, so great was the desire she felt. Their bodies thrashed as they came together like animals, no inhibition, just two people as one for the ultimate climax. He never withdrew from her, they stayed together, joined, moulded, infused. He had to be part of her, holding close as they fell asleep bathed in moonlight.

Never in her whole life had she felt such a sense of loss, it was the same moon, the same trade winds gently blowing but now she realised, it was a different world. It was a world she didn't want to be part of without this man, who in such a short time, had taken over her whole life.

Distraught,she walked along the jetty analysing the pain of her loveless childhood, remembering. Remembering yet again, how she hungered for the love and affection that always seemed to elude her. Her safety valve for survival during her adolescent years was to deny herself the need for love. Her natural reaction to her past abuse was to reject any sign of affection offered; and over the years this culminated in her not being able to differentiate between love and sex. To her they went hand in hand.

She entered her bungalow by the patio windows on the beach and with the welcoming feel of soft white sand between her toes, she threw herself onto the bed. Without turning on the lights she reached for the phone, and dialled a number, a number she had used so many, many times before. When she heard the sleepy response, all she said was, "Come and get me baby, I need you." Patricia replaced the receiver without waiting for an answer as she knew he would soon arrive, he loved her.

Within minutes she saw the headlights of his car reflected in the windows. Without knocking, he walked in and she automatically threw herself into his long open arms. She heard his ragged breath coming in gasps as he crushed her gently against his massive, muscular chest. Once again, he held the woman of his dreams; it had been a long time, too long.

Patricia started to relax as she knew the comfort she would soon feel; she had experienced Jackson's amazing body many times in the past, too numerous to count.

Jackson was black, coal black and had the most amazing physique of any man she had ever seen in her whole life. When he arrived, all he was wearing was a small white towel around his slim waist, and even though she was distraught Patricia couldn't fail to be aroused by his massive erection as he pressed hard against her. She could hardly breathe and whispered, "Baby take me home and love me all night." Jackson needed no encouragement. Kissing her as if there was no tomorrow, he swept her off her feet and carried her to his car.

As they sped the short distance to his house, the nightmare of loosing her love didn't seem quite so bad, as there always seemed to be compensations.

Patricia knew what to expect from her big black Adonis, she had trained him to satisfy her every need and indulge her sexual appetite. Jackson wanted to marry her and he really thought that one-day she would accept his repeated proposals. Patricia knew that would never be possible. She loved Jackson, but was in love with Mijka, a vast difference. Before meeting her Scandinavian lover there had been no one in a long line of men to touch her heart, but touch it he did. But not only touch, he devoured, consumed, and voraciously claimed it for himself, without actually realizing the responsibility of ownership!

As they arrived at the big rambling house overlooking the bay, Patricia turned to him and said, "Make me forget darling," He answered," Don't I always baby!" With these words ringing in her ears, he carried her through the sprawling house, to his all too familiar bedroom. The warm trade winds were blowing through the vast open windows, stirring the muslin drapes gently in the breeze. Glistening moonlight was streaming across the enormous, white draped bed as he placed her gently upon it. Before lying down, he undressed her - slowly!

Jackson devoured every inch of her beautiful body with his eyes; it had been a while. He couldn't stop fantasizing about her, she was in his head day and night, and he was obsessed. Patricia was tanned, but her skin looked translucent in the moonlight against the ebony of his body. The contrast excited him and he excited her, as Jackson was the epitome of the West Indian man, with his size he could have started the myth.
Their bodies came together in frenzied passion, and time stood still.
Patricia's mind never left the bedroom, as once again, Jackson was true to his word!