Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a 'fanny' is the correct term for female genitalia, a 'pussy' is a pet cat, and the 'ass' is a 'bum' or 'arse'.

This chapter is part two to my story Volcano; I hope that you enjoy it.

Pete started the boat engines again, and we were moving. He gave me some wipes to clean myself, and I put my clothes back on, some rolled-up wipes inside my fanny to stop the drips.

“We will motor until we can get a signal and you can phone your folks; they will be worried,” he said.

I sat on a seat near where he was standing, driving—is that the right word? —the boat. We moved for what seemed like ages, and then the engines slowed and then stopped. 

“I have a signal; try your parents,” he said.

I took the phone from my bag and picked it up to be near my face.

“Hey Siri, phone Mum,” I said.

“Oh, thank God,” I heard my mum's voice. "Where are you? Are you okay? We have been worried sick.” I could hear my dad in the background asking if it was me.

“I don’t know where I am, Mum. I am on a boat; a man saved me and took me to safety. I am alright, but I don’t know where we are.”

“Man, what man?” Mum asked.

“It doesn’t matter, Mum. I am safe, okay?”

“We need to know where you are so that we can fly up and get you.”

Pete tapped my shoulder. “Hang on, Mum,” I said.

Pete held my hand. “I will take you to that town over there, and I will find a hotel or a motel for you, and then you can tell your parents where you are,” he said.

“Mum, we are going to land. As soon as I have a hotel or motel booked, I will ring you and let you know where, okay?”

“Yes, go, stay safe. We are sorting out flights; your dad is not sure how near we can get. There is an exclusion zone set up because of the volcano; we will get as near as we can. We will hire a car and then drive the rest of the way.”

We exchanged kisses and then I ended the call. I didn’t have a charger, so I didn’t want to waste the battery. I sat next to Pete as he drove us to shore. Behind us I could still hear the volcano, its roars quieter now that we were further away. The motion of the boat changed; it stopped going up and down and side to side. Now it just swayed a little side to side.

“Nearly there,” Pete said. I couldn’t hear the volcano anymore; its roar had faded away about an hour before. There were slushing sounds and a few bumps, and then we were stopped.

“Hang on,” Pete said, and I heard him jump onto the side where we had stopped.

“Okay, right, we are moored safely. Wait here; I will find out where we are and hire a truck, and we can get you sorted. We are in Crescent City according to a sign over there.” And then he was gone, and I was sat on a boat gently swaying and all alone.

“Hey Siri, phone Mum,” I said.

“Hi Mum, I think we are in somewhere called Crescent City. I am going to find a hotel, and then I can let you know where I am.”

"Oh, thank God, sweetheart. Are you alright? It has been hours.”

“I had to turn my phone off, Mum; I don’t have a charger. I was only going to the shops when it all happened. I need to save battery.”

"Okay, sweetheart, we will get a charger; your dad will sort us out. He guessed that you might be there; there is a flight we can catch in an hour. We can be with you first thing in the morning.”

"Okay, Mum, love you.” I switched the phone off. 

I sat there for about twenty minutes or so, and then Pete came back.

"Okay, Celia, I have a car; it’s not brilliant, but we only need it for today. Let's find a hotel.”

I stepped off the boat, and the ground felt really funny; it just wasn’t moving. My knees were compensating for movement that wasn’t there; I nearly fell over just standing still. Pete took my hand and led me along the gangplanks, up some steps and then across a gravelled car park, my feet making scrunching sounds as I walked. I tried to count the steps but then gave up; there didn’t seem to be any point.

“Here we are,” he said, and I heard a car door open. He put his hand on the top of my head, and I ducked in and sat down, doing up my seat belt. The door shut and then I heard the driver’s door open and felt Pete get in.

“Right love, let’s find you a hotel. The guy at the rental office suggested one; he said it was one that didn’t rent the rooms by the hour.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I supposed I could guess.

We drove for about five minutes, and then Pete pulled up. “You wait here,” he said. "Let me go and check it out.”

Again, I was left on my own for a few minutes, and then Pete came back.

“Okay, the place looks decent. They have some rooms, and I explained where you were from, and they are okay with that and the fact that you don’t have any luggage. So, let’s go and see what they have.”

I got out of the car, and Pete took my hand. I was sweeping my stick in front of me, and then we were at a door. We went through and Pete stopped me.

“Okay, you are at reception; José here will help you out.”

“Thank you, Pete.”

I took a deep breath and then spoke to José. “I need two rooms, a twin for my parents and another room, a single is fine, next door or as near as possible. My parents will arrive later today or early tomorrow morning. I don’t know how long we will be here; shall we say two nights initially?”

"Yes, miss,” José answered, a higher-pitched voice than Pete, with an almost sing-song edge to it.

“The only two rooms near each other that I have are both doubles; is that okay?”

"Yes", I said; it would have to do until Mum and Dad got here and then they could sort things out.

I got my credit card out and handed it over. “I am sorry; that is all I have. I lost everything else to the volcano, and obviously I don’t have a driver's permit.”

“That’s fine, Miss; let me just present your card, and if it goes through, then we have no issues.” I could hear bleeping and some tones, probably from a credit card machine, but an older style than they used in my town. My old ex-town, I reminded myself.

“Yes, Miss, that is fine; all gone through. Your rooms are 105 and 107; they are next to each other.”

“I can show her the way,” Pete said.”

“Will you be needing a room, Sir?” José asked Pete.

“No, I have things to do up north; I just want to make sure that Celia is okay before I leave.”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”

I clutched the two room cards in my hand, and Pete took my hand and led the way. I was trying to concentrate on the number of steps and which way doors opened, and then Pete stopped.

“Okay, two rooms; 105 is nearer the reception, 107 is just one room further away. Any preference?”

“Probably 107 for me; I don’t plan on doing much, although I have just realised that I am absolutely famished.”

He laughed and then spoke, "Come on, check your room out, and then I can take you to the shrimp place over the car park, and you can get yourself some food. And then, Miss Celia, I shall leave you to wait for your parents. I have to go and find out if I have any life left under the remains of the town.”

I opened the door and stepped inside, my stick sweeping the way.

“In front of you there is nothing; it just goes all the way to the window,” Pete said. "First on your left is the bathroom; it has a toilet and a shower. It is functional but basic. There are complimentary gels. If you walk past that, you come to the bedroom; it just has a double bed in it, again very basic, but it will do you.”

“Thank you, Pete; let me just walk around, and then we can go and eat.” I walked into the room, counting the paces until I found the window. I made sure that the blinds were shut; we were on the ground floor, and I didn’t want anyone peeping in. I then sat on the bed; it was okay; it would do. Then I sticked my way to the bathroom and felt around; yes, basic, but it would do.

“Right then, Mister,” I said, “please, I am Hank Marvin.”

He laughed, “I haven’t heard that one for a long time; come on, take my arm and let us go eat. I have to be honest, I’m a bit Hank too.”

I smiled; he didn’t really get the English idiom, but never mind. We walked back to the reception and then back out into the carpark. One hundred and twenty-three steps and we were at a door.

"It says ‘Crescent Cities finest Shrimp, all you can eat for ten dollars’. How does that sound?” 

“It sounds like they are about to take a lot of money; I am famished.”

He laughed and he took my arm again and led me in. We waited and then a woman asked, “How may I help you folks today?”

“Table for two,” Pete said.

“Right this way.” Pete led me, and then we were sitting in a booth.

“Great view over the carpark to the sea,” she said as I was folding my stick and putting it on the table.

“Oh my, forgive me, Miss; that was a stupid thing to say.” She sounded genuinely mortified at her thoughtless words.

“Don’t worry, I am sure it is a great view, and Pete can enjoy it,” I said, trying to inject a laugh into my words.

“Do you want anything to drink whilst you eat?” She asked.

“Diet coke,” I asked.

“We have Pepsi, is that ok?”

“Yes, if it is diet Pepsi, not Pepsi max.”

“Yes, diet.”

“Thank you.”

“You sir?”

“No, nothing for me.”

After I heard the waitress walk away, Pete pulled me to my feet.

"Right, let’s get you some food; it is all laid out on the side, you just help yourself, or I can do it for you.”

“Would you just fill me up a plate, please? I don’t care what; I am just so hungry.”

“No worries; you wait here and I will be back.”

I sat back down and marvelled at the view I couldn’t see. Sometimes I use the camera on my phone to look at things, holding it real close to my eye, but it is a bit hit and miss; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I am glad I didn’t do that for the volcano. I think I would have cried to watch our town destroyed.

Pete soon came back, and I heard the sound of a plate and some cutlery on the table before me.

“Here’s yours; I’ll just go and get myself some,” and he was gone. I used my hands and found the plate and a fork. I waited for Pete to come back; he wasn’t long.

“Right then, girl, tuck in; didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Of course I did, Pete, right? Now you are back, I shall start; there may not be much talking.”

I heard him laugh as I started filling my face with the shrimp. I think that we generally think of them as prawns in England, but then we call a lot of seafood ‘prawns’ in England; I am not always sure that it is what it is supposed to be. Whatever they were, they were going straight down, and it wasn’t long before I was holding an empty plate.

I heard Pete laugh. "God, girl, you weren’t joking. Do you want some more?”

“Please.”

His chair scraped, and he was gone for a few minutes, and then I heard the plate on the table in front of me again. I tucked in, and this time, when the plate was empty, I was full.

“Oh, that was good, Pete,” I said, sitting drinking my diet Pepsi. “I needed that. How is yours?"

“Mine was good, girl, really good. Just what the sailor ordered.”

What a strange expression. I think in England we say ‘what the doctor ordered', and that makes sense. The sailor? It made no sense to me, but then, what did it matter?

“Here is my credit card. Can you use it to pay for the food, and then we can go back to the hotel?"

“I’ll get this lass.”

"No, Pete, you have done enough; you saved my life. The least I can do is buy lunch.”

One hundred and twenty-three steps later, we were back at the hotel. Pete walked me to my door. He declined when I asked him in.

“No lass, I have enjoyed your company, and I would love to see more of you, but I have a shitload to do, and you are half asleep and your folks will turn up at any time, so, no, as much as I would love to, here is where we must part.”

“Oh Pete, will I never see you again?” Yes, I know, using the word 'see' is wrong, but, well, it is what people say.

“I have sent a text to your phone; that will give you my phone number. When all the dust has settled, perhaps we can meet, but, in honesty, you have left me with wonderful memories on what would normally be one of the worst moments in my life; it looks as if I have probably lost everything except the boat. Oh well, I can only thank you for making an old man happy.”

I embraced him and kissed him.

“Thank you, Pete, you saved my life. I hope that we don’t lose touch.”

Pete walked off, his footsteps heavy in the hotel corridor, and I opened my door and went into my room. I needed to shower; I desperately needed to shower to wash my groin and also see if I could wash inside. I had never really needed to do that before, but when I had, at home, I had unscrewed the shower head and pushed the hose inside. It remained to be seen if I could do that here.

I stripped off and put my somewhat dirty clothes on the bed. In the bathroom I found a shower robe – excellent – and two towels. I put the robe and one towel on the bed and then went back to explore the shower. I was in luck; it had a flexible hose, so I could do the internal wash thing.

I turned the shower on and then picked up the two complimentary gels. I presumed one was for hair and one was for body; well, it wouldn’t be the first time I had showered and cleaned myself using hair shampoo. It hadn’t seemed to do any damage last time; I didn’t expect it would this time. At home I tried to ensure I had different-shaped bottles so that I knew what was what.

I washed myself from head to toe, using the small hand towel as a flannel; I didn’t have anything else. I turned the shower pressure down and carefully unscrewed the shower head, making sure I didn’t lose the rubber sealing washer. I had done that before, and I had an embarrassing time explaining to Dad why I had dismantled the shower. I added some gel, hair or body – who knew? – to the hose as a lubricant and carefully pushed it inside my fanny.

It was a very strange sensation, not entirely different from when Pete ejaculated inside me, only obviously more copious. I flushed my fanny a few times, reassembled the shower, rinsed myself off and turned the thing off. Satisfied that there were no leaks and that everything was actually off, I got out of the shower and wrapped the remaining towel around myself and went and lay on the bed.

It was dark and my door was knocking. I had obviously fallen asleep. I was cold and I couldn’t find the robe. I wrapped the towel around me as best as I could and got up and carefully went to the door.

“Hello,” I called through the door.

“It’s us, sweetheart,” I heard Dad say. I opened the door, and they both rushed in, hugging me and kissing me, and before I knew what was what, my towel fell on the floor.

“Richard, shut your eyes,” I heard Mum say, and then she must have found the robe because she was threading my arms through it and doing up the belt. "Okay, now Richard.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for someone to speak so that I knew where to face.

"Oh, baby,” Mum said, “we were so scared when we saw the news.”

I gave them an edited version of what had happened; I didn’t mention any of the intimacy. I didn’t need to, and they didn’t need to know. They might guess, but that was up to them. I finished off with, "And so here I am. There is a room next door for you; the room card is on the table.”

“Thank you, sweetheart; yes, we can work out what is what tomorrow and what we are going to do," Dad said.

“I need some clothes, Dad.”

“Yes, well, Mum can take you out tomorrow and sort that and get a suitcase; she is better at that. I will try and find out if we can drive up and salvage anything. I might try and rent...