You reach up with trembling hands and unbuckle his pants, noticingfor the first time that he isn't wearing his gun-belt. He crosseshis arms, seemingly...satisfied with letting you do the work now.You unzip his fly. The metal scratching sound causing you toshiver. You work his pants down carefully. When he steps out ofthem, you toss them aside, but you wonder if it has anywhere nearthe same significance for him, as your pile of discarded clothesdid for you.When you look up, you cringe at the sight. Cyril adjusted their course slightly, to just slide by the island, and then he tore into his rowers, almost ravaging them to gain speed. More! More! he demanded. The rowers put every muscle they had to the task. More! Faster!The island could easily be seen now as the rain backed off. Cyril saw the sirens and stared in wonder.Each was as described. Olive skin, beautiful faces like goddesses, dark hair more feathery than human, sharp, beak-like noses of flesh, full breasts with dark tips, dark,. More

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