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Introduction:

Author’s Note: This is a serial novel. It mixes actual experiences, fantasies, and outright lunacy. It is not a quick lurk-and-jerk. I believe in a slow build, in order to have a better payoff at the end. (Like Sting, I’m Tantric…). I plan to release a new chapter every week. Hopefully the response will be good! Enjoy.

Chapter 6

Janie and I emerged from the jungle trail into the bright morning sun on the beach. Fellow castaways were now stirring, and people began conglomerating near last night’s fire pit. We shared out some more food, less than any of us wanted, and tried to make sense of the situation. Our new island community was a motley crew. Besides Joelle, Janie and me, there was the flight crew: My redheaded fuckbuddy Sharon, who gave me a sexy smile, her chubby blond friend Jill, Patricia, an older woman with short, smartly-styled gray hair, surprisingly attractive and in great shape, and the lone male attendant, Rodney. Working all day yesterday with a clear purpose seemed to have settled him down, because he looked clear-eyed and in control, as opposed to the crying wreck I had been led to expect by Janie.

Our Tae Know Do crew included Jared and Connor, both 8, 10-year-olds Caleb, Alexander and Brandon, Austin at 11, and James, William, and Peter, aged 12. Logan, John, and Christopher rounded out the boys at 13, 14, and 16 respectively. Allison, 16, and Juhee, 14 were our oldest on the girl’s side. They were joined by Allysa and Chinese twins Ashley and Lily, all 13 years old, and Mackenzie, 12, Madison, 10, and our youngest girl Morgan, also 8.

The neo-hippies (as I called them) seemed to be a pleasant group of mellow, outdoorsy, granola eaters, and all looked to be in the 18-20 year old range. Rain, Summer, and Dakota were the girls. Did they become hippies because of their names, I wondered, or did they choose the names because they were hippies? The boys were Stu and River. A third young man, Billy, had died in the terrorist attack. They were obviously still grieving, but seemed to be supporting each other well.

The field hockey team consisted of Danielle, the injured coach, Mary, a stocky but muscular short-haired blond woman, her partner in coaching and possibly love (they had sure looked mighty close at the airport), and 9 surviving players. I caught the names Alexis and Hannah, apparently the team captain and co-captain, and Sara, Samantha, Nina, Missy, Angela, Toni, and Emily, the youngest. Apparently she was a talented freshman who had made it onto the varsity team at age 15. They were clearly traumatized by the loss of two of their members, and clung to each other, often in tears.

Horace was an elderly, wiry gentleman from Maine. He had told us last night that he was a carpenter by trade, a skill I figured would come in handy. He sat next to Patricia, the older flight attendant. They seemed to be buddies already, probably because they were the oldest couple on the flight.

The last group of US passengers was the cheerleading squad. They had also lost one of their own, a popular girl named Lucy. She had disappeared after the crash, presumably swept into the sea in the night. Led by their pregnant coach, Anne, the remaining girls were Kaitlyn, Natalie, Emma, Megan, Yasmine, Jessica, the lone young man Adam, and of course my panty-deprived honey from the plane, whose name I wasn’t able to hear during the introductions. They seemed a tight group, and were weathering the loss with a minimum of tears.

Our international passengers included our injured African man, (Dkembe according to his passport), and three African women named Adede, Folani, and Onyeka. The latter two each had two children in tow, toddlers that seemed to be having a blast on our enforced beach vacation.
There were five Koreans who had been heading home on the flight. These were Do Hun and Chin Sun, and elderly man and his doting adult daughter, Mi Cha, a smart-looking businesswoman, and a young mother with her boy, whose names I didn’t catch.

Tran and Truk were a tiny Vietnamese woman and her adolescent daughter. The mother spoke broken English, and the daughter seemed not to speak at all. She may have been in shock, or just shy.

Anjali was the lovely Indian woman I remembered from the airport, and Gabrielle was a French student (I wasn’t sure of what) with a very sexy accent and an awe-inspiring figure.

Such were the members of our new island community. Janie was quickly elected our leader, and organized some ground rules. Basic chores like water and food preparation were assigned, areas were designated as latrines, and we all agreed that everyone would keep their clothes, comfort items, and prescription medicines as their own property. More practical objects like tools or knives, medicines not needed on a daily basis, and all foodstuffs would become community property.

The scouting parties reported there was game on the island. There were pigs and chickens that had been seen, and we heard what sounded like goats bleating in the distance on occasion. Tran, Anjali, and the African women all had noticed edible plants that they were familiar with, and agreed to teach the rest of us what might be collected for food. There were also vast numbers of coconut, mango, and breadfruit trees that even I could recognize. It seemed likely we would not go hungry once we got our act together. The stream Joelle and I had discovered (a pleasant memory!) emptied into the ocean just a few dozen yards down the beach, just past a rocky outcrop, so we had a good supply of fresh water. Once food collecting teams had been organized, and the last of the salvage crews picked to cannibalize the rest of the airplane for supplies, we broke up on a positive, energetic note. It was good to have plans in place, and activity to keep us busy.

Joelle and I checked out our patients in the “infirmary,” and were delighted to find Danielle awake. Mary gave her a tearful kiss, and they embraced happily. Definitely lovers, I thought. I rigged four poles of bamboo I had had one of the boys collect for me as a splint around her injured leg, and with Mary’s help Danielle was able to stand for a short while. We would need to make some crutches, I decided.

Dkembe was still out of it, but had a strong pulse and had taken some water and coconut milk even in his sleep. I checked his pupils, still equal, and turned to Joelle to tell her. I was shocked to find her looking under the blanket at the man’s crotch. She caught me staring and blushed crimson.

“I’m sorry Dave, I know it’s unprofessional, but look at his thing! It’s huge!”

She pulled the blanket aside, revealing an impressive site. The man’s dick was at least 8 inches long flaccid. God knows what it would look like erect! It resembled some huge blacksnake, or a policeman’s truncheon. We stared in awe at this great engine of masculinity. I glanced at Joelle, who seemed mesmerized. I chuckled. “ I think I’ve created a monster. You look like you’re really craving that cock.” She started and hit me on the arm.

“Dave, stop it! I can’t help it. I haven’t seen one that big before.”

I feigned despair. “Now you won’t be interested in my puny specimen any more! I am desolate!”

She grabbed me by the shoulders and by way of reply, planted a sloppy French kiss on my mouth, her tongue tickling the inside of my lips sensually. When she came up for air, she said, “You were my first, and I will always want you. You set the bar pretty high for any other guys. Besides, you still owe me another fuck, remember?”

Hearing this sweet, sexy nurse talk dirty to me got me pretty revved up, and I caressed her ass while returning her kiss. She looked content for a moment, then stricken. “What’s wrong, hon?” I asked.

“I need to talk to you in private,“ she said seriously.

“OK. Take a walk with me.” I was a little worried, now.

We strolled down the beach in silence while she collected her thoughts.

“I have spent my whole life living up to my parents expectations,” she began. “Every choice I made was never for myself; it was always for them. Now here I am, truly on my own now, and you have woken something inside me. Something I didn’t even know was in me. I want to live, not just exist. I want to experience all life has to offer me. I love you, but I don’t want to settle down with one man yet. I have a little catching up to do before I commit to somebody.”

Is that all? I almost laughed, but figured that would upset her.

“Joelle, I agree 100%. You need to live life for yourself for a while. You are entitled to do what pleases you. I hope to always be a part of your world, because you are very special to me. But we don’t have to be exclusive. We can enjoy each other’s company whenever you want, and I won’t hold you back from other guys. In fact, I’d love to hear about your experiences, and would be happy to give you advice about dealing with men, if you need it.”

She looked relieved, and threw her arms around me. “Oh, I’m so happy! I wanted you to make love to me again, but I didn’t want to lead you on. It’s really OK with you if I try other men? That is, if we ever get off this island. You’ll still want to be with me?”

“Of course,” I said. “In fact, I want to be with you right now. Can’t you tell?” I took her hand and placed it on my rigid cock. God, this girl got me horny!

She blushed again, but didn’t take her hand away. Instead, she began kneading my boner through my pants. She whispered in my ear, her breath tickling me, “I want to feel you in me again and again. But not right now. I’m all sweaty and gross. I want to prepare for our next time.”

I caressed her left tit, stroking the soft flesh and feeling the hard button of her erect nipple on my suddenly sweaty palm. “You couldn’t be gross if you rolled in a dumpster. You are the sexiest girl in the world!”

She slapped my hand away playfully, obviously pleased. “Not now, I said. You’ll just have to wait. I won’t make it too long.” She kissed me once more and, taking my hand, led me back to our clinic.

I spent a little time talking to Danielle and Mary, explaining the restrictions she would have because of her leg injury, and the expected timetable for her recovery. As I was speaking to them, Janie strolled up and said she had a proposal the three of us needed to hear. Alexis, the team captain, had approached Janie with an idea. The field hockey players wanted to take over the job of hunting for game on the island. Two of them had actual hunting experience (I think Horace was probably the only other person on the island who could say that), and the others were willing to learn. They were fit and athletic, and used to working together. It seemed like a good idea to me. “What do you think, coaches?” I queried the two women. “They’re your girls. Any objections?”

Mary and Danielle discussed the matter for a moment and agreed. “Obviously I’m not going to be much help,” Danielle said, “but Mary used to bow hunt with her dad. I bet she and the girls will keep us in pork chops soon enough.”

“Good,” said Janie. “It’s decided. Can I leave you two in charge of the project?” The two women agreed and Janie headed back to the pile of salvage. “I’m working with Horace to see if he can’t get some shelters built,” she said to me over her shoulder. “We don’t know when we’re going to get hit with a monsoon or something.” I admired that taut butt as she left. What a woman! Turning back, I caught the two coaches checking out her ass, too. I smiled to myself, thinking that Janie might surprise them if they ever hit on her.

Joelle said that she had splinted Connor’s leg with a more sturdy set of bamboo poles, and that he was able to hobble around using another pole as a crutch. I knew bones healed faster if they were stressed slightly, so I OK’d the idea.

“I’m going to head out with Falani—one of the African ladies,” she said. “She thinks she can find us some plants and herbs that have medicinal properties. I figured since there’s not a lot of meds in the kit from the plane that might be a good idea.”

“Good thinking,” I said. “I’ll see you later.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and left. I puttered around organizing our supplies for a few minutes, until I was interrupted by a hesitant voice.

“You are the doctor?”

I turned to see Gabrielle, the young Frenchwoman. She was dressed in red capri pants and a striped shirt that accentuated her fine figure. “Yes,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“I ‘ave a problem,” she said in her delightful accent. She glanced at the nearby coaches. “Can we talk en prive’? Um…in private?”

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s walk down the beach.”

I led her past the rocky outcrop that bordered our camp beach and motioned her to sit on fallen palm tree near the edge of the stream.

“What’s the problem?”

“It is stupid, mais tres uncomfortable,” she began. “First, you must know I have an unusual métier—profession.”

“I thought you were a student.”

“Non, that is what I tell people. It is easier that way. In fact, I am une nourrice. What you call in English a wet nurse.”

Really? I was intrigued.

“I have finished my last job in Johannesburg for an English couple,” she continued. “The child is now weaned. I am travelling to Korea for my next job. The client is a wealthy elderly man. It is now quite en vogue for older Asian men to take le lait maternel. They feel it makes them young again. They pay much if they can take it directement from le sein—the breast.”

Now I was really wondering where this was going.

“Sadly, my suitcase was one that was wet by the sea. My…my…,”she struggled for the word. “My pump will no longer work. Do you know if there is another among the bagage?”

“No,” I told her. “I helped inventory our supplies. No one had a breast pump.”

“I must get the milk out of the breast, “ she said with a frown. “It becomes painful.”

“Can’t you express it—um, squeeze it out by hand?”

“It is very slow. And the mamelon—the nipple—it gets sore.”

“I’m not an OB doctor but the only other way I know is the old-fashioned way.” She looked confused. “Have it sucked out,” I clarified.

She nodded seriously and thought for a moment. “Bon. Alors…” She suddenly pulled off her blouse, revealing her hairy armpits and a well stuffed bra.

“Wait!” I said. “I didn’t mean me. I thought…” She unhooked and removed her bra in that most feminine of motions. Her swaying breasts, pale white and tipped with huge dark pink nipples almost an inch long, caught me in their spell. I didn’t know what I thought anymore. I was speechless.

She gave me a small smile. “You are the doctor. You must help me. Do not be embarrasse’. It is what I do. I do not mind. I enjoy it.” She motioned me to lie next to her on the log. I complied, in somewhat of a trance. She pillowed my head in her lap and hefted one dripping udder. I opened my mouth and she slipped her milky mammary between by lips. Instinct took over and I began suckling. A jet of warm, sweet milk bathed my tongue. I had never tasted breast milk before (not counting as a baby), and I found it wonderful. It was thinner and much sweeter than cow’s milk, with a slight musty aftertaste that was intriguing. I pulled harder on the swollen teat, and she sighed in contentment as a gush of white nectar flowed into my mouth. I had skipped breakfast this morning, trying to ration our food, and so had plenty of room for this lactating lovely’s output.

When she indicated that side was empty, I lifted my head and she shifted position to slip the other dripping pink nipple in my waiting mouth. As I started draining the other side, she began signing softly in French, stroking my hair. I looked up at her with one eye, past her bulging breast, and admired the curve of her pectoral muscle as it rose from the top of her breast to her shoulder. A tuft of dark hair peeked out of her armpit, in sharp contrast to the alabaster shade of the surrounding skin. I had only ever dated American girls before, and had never seen an unshaven armpit on a woman before. Somehow she made it seem not only attractive, but feminine.

The sensation of her stiff nipple in my mouth, the sweet taste of her milk, and the sight of her beautiful body were working on me in predictable fashion. My dick was as hard as an iron bar, and I began wondering if I could score some “dessert” after this sensual breakfast. She indicated I had completed my health care duties and I opened my mouth to suggest some additional activities, when I heard my name being called from behind the rocks.

Gabrielle quickly redressed, to my dismay, covering up those now slightly less heavy jugs with her bra, then her top. As the calling voices came closer, she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Merci. We must do zis every morning. Will you meet me here demain—tomorrow?”

“Of course!” I said quickly. How could I turn down that offer?

“You are sweet,” she said. “If you are a good boy for maman, I may have a treat for you tomorrow.” She trailed her hand across my cheek and disappeared into the jungle. God, my balls were going to burst!

“Dave!” I heard a familiar voice call from just around the bend. “Are you over here?”

“Yes!” I called hoarsely. “Just on the other side of the rocks.” I quickly adjusted by aching boner just as Sharon clambered over the rocks, trailed by her chubby blond coworker.

“Hi!” she said brightly. “Somebody told me you had headed this way. Watcha’ doin?”

“Oh, just a little me time for breakfast. How about you?”

She gave me a hug and turned to her friend. “Jill, I want you to meet Dr. Dave Connor. Dave, this is Jill Morgan. She’s a good friend of mine.”

We said our hellos and shook hands. “I wanted Sharon to introduce us so I could thank you for helping to break up the hijacking plot. You probably saved my life.”

“Hey,” I said, “it was no big deal. I was in the right place at the right time. I didn’t do nearly as much as those poor guys who rushed the shooter and died.”

“Don’t be so modest. I think you’re a hero.”

Sharon piped up, “Guys, I need to get back to camp. Rodney and I are going to break out one of the life rafts from the plane. We’re hoping there might be some fishing supplies in the survival kits. Toodles!” She fluttered her fingers at me and Jill and climbed back over the rocks.

Jill looked at me shyly. She was about 5’3, with a shoulder length blond bob, a pert nose and cute chipmunk cheeks. She was fairly topheavy, as full figured girls often are. She had a perky, childlike quality about her that I found endearing. I’ve never been much of a chubby-chaser, but she looked more like a bunch of fun packed into a small package than an overweight slob.

“I know what you and Sharon were doing on the plane earlier. She recruited me to be the lookout so you had some privacy.”

I had the grace to blush a bit. “Yeah, well, thanks for that,” I said. “She kind of took me by surprise with that maneuver.”

“She tends to get what she wants. She’s so elegant and sexy, guys are always coming on to her.” Jill shook her head wistfully. “I get a little jealous sometimes. Fat girls like me don’t get much attention from men.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. I think you’re pretty.” I really meant this. She really had a cute face, and a pair of knockers that didn’t quit. It may have been my erection talking, but I wouldn’t mind flying her friendly thighs.

She looked at me with shining eyes, and said, “Really? Because I think you are very handsome.” She hesitated for a moment, looking away, then seemed to collect herself. She looked me in the eye. “I’ve been lonely for a long time, and you seem like a nice guy. Sharon says you were good to her. I’d like to show you how grateful I am for you saving my life.” She began unbuttoning her top with trembling fingers. “Is this OK?”

In answer, I put my arms around her and planted a long, slow kiss on her full lips. She returned it hungrily, her quick tongue darting between my lips. When we separated, she pushed me back onto the log and stood in front of me. As each button popped loose, I saw more and more of her lacy underthings. She finally pulled her top from her shoulders, exposing a glorious expanse of female flesh. She was wearing some type of corset—I think they called it a merry widow—which confined her ample curves in a black lace embrace, her massive breasts pushed up out of the tight cups to unlikely heights. Her skin was smooth and milky white, and I spied traceries of light blue veins under the surfaces of each pillowy boob. She shimmied out of her skirt, letting it drop to the sand. Her plump thighs were smooth and firm, and her generous hips were clad in black lace panties of substantial proportions. There was no way she wore this around the island! She must have put this on especially for me. I was touched by her desire to arouse me (it was definitely working), and decided I would do my best to make this a memorable experience for her. She stepped forward, and I began unwrapping this unexpected early Christmas present. There were a dozen or more little hooks to undo, the tedious process adding to my anticipation and fueling my raging hard-on. As I released each one, the straining corset gaped open more and more, giving me tantalizing glimpses of jiggling femininity. Once I reached the bottom of the bra cups, her huge tits spilled out of the lacy contraption into my waiting hands. I don’t know what letter was on her bra, but these were the biggest breasts I had ever held before. They were pure white globes of succulent flesh, with massive pale pink areolae the size of saucers and surprisingly small nipples perched in the middle.

“Do you like them?” Jill asked, a tremor in her voice.

“God, yes!” I exclaimed reverently. “They’re magnificent.” I held the right one in both hands, amazed at how the soft sack of womanhood spilled over the sides of my palms. I stroked the jiggling sphere softly, admiring the way the pink nub of nipple responded to my touch, its pebbly, rosy tissue rising proudly to erection.

“You can suck it if you want,” she said softly. I didn’t need to be told twice. Despite having just drained Gabrielle’s milk jugs, I was ready for more. No such thing as too much tit, in my book! I stuck out my moist tongue, and traced a path across her breast. She sighed and closed her eyes. I drew circles of saliva around her breast, spiraling in to the nipple, which I caressed with my lips before sucking it deeply into my mouth. She moaned softly, breathing heavily. I nibbled on her stiff peak, stretching the tender flesh with my teeth. She gasped a breathless “Oh!”

I licked her nub once more then turned my attention to the other side, making a meal of her quivering boob. I then grasped both of her jugs, and turning them inward, managed to get both nipples at once into my mouth, rubbing them against each other while sucking, licking, and biting them with abandon. When she had been reduced to hoarse cries and grunts, I backed off, resting my head on the swell of her belly, my hands pressing her mammoth mammaries against the sides of my face. I was cradled in soft female flesh and it felt wonderful. She smelled lightly of baby powder, with just a hint of the aroma of her wet pussy now rising from her nether parts.

I lifted my head off the soft pillow of her belly reluctantly, and realized the corset was still half-attached, clinging to her wide hips. The lower half had a zipper, and came off much easier. I dropped it down to join her top, drinking in the sight of her exaggerated hourglass figure. She looked like one of those fertility dolls you see in the museums—all breasts and belly, and all of it firm and beautiful, not droopy in the slightest. She still had on her back lace panties, and I slowly pulled them down, revealing a smooth, plump, hairless mound between her legs. I planted a kiss on her chubby little twat as I worked her drawers off. She stepped out of them, eyes wide and bosom heaving. I caressed her big ass cheeks, kneading the buttocks like dough, and planted more kisses on her perfumed pussy. She smelled tart and slightly fishy, but not unpleasant. I slowly slid my tongue up her crack from the point where her inner labia peeked out of the bottom to the little Y-shaped crease where the outer labia met at the top. I loved the sweet and savory taste of her now slick lips. Her outer lips were so plump they hid the little pink petals inside. I only got one nice long taste of the delicate folds within before she shoved me away and dropped to the sand in front of me.

“I’m feeling bad!” she crooned. “I’m such a naughty girl! I want to be your slut!” Jill practically ripped off my pants and shorts, freeing my throbbing cock. She wasted no time in gobbling my knob, her hands, lips and tongue working together to bring me to a frenzy in no time. My sack was dripping with spit by the time she finished, suddenly dropping to her hands and knees in front of me and thrusting that bubble butt at me.

“I’m so bad! Spank me! I need to be punished. Hit me now, please!” she whined. “I need to be punished. Be firm with me, Dave!” she pleaded.

I’ve never been into S&M, but hey, it was her party. I was just along for the ride. I slapped her right ass cheek with a resounding SMACK!, drawing a squeal of either pain or pleasure (or both) from her.

“Again!” she cried. “Harder!”

I whacked her again, leaving a bright red handprint on her ass, then attacked the other cheek. She was moaning, and reached up between her legs to frig herself with one hand while I spanked her. Squelching noises emanated from her crotch as she strummed her clit frantically. Her pussy was dripping rivulets of honey down her chubby thighs, and the heady scent was making my cock ache with desire. After a few more whacks, she rolled onto her back, splaying her legs apart as far as they would go. “Fuck me now!” she screamed. Her enormous boobs drooped to either side of her, resting on the sand. Her pink gash gleamed wetly at me as her engorged lips parted in anticipation of a good reaming.

I climbed aboard the Jill Morgan express, plowing into her quivering cunt with my erect meat. It was like making love to a waterbed! Her sopping wet pussy swallowed my turgid cock avidly, the slippery folds caressing me intimately as I pounded them. Her belly and boobs jiggled back and forth in time to my thrusts, and she was soft and smooth where my weight rested on her. So this is what the world of big, beautiful women is like! I thought. I could get used to this.

Her bouncing mams were staring me in the face, and I couldn’t resist attacking them. I sucked the stiff nipples harder than ever, and stretched the puckered tissue of her areolae with my teeth.

“Bite them!” she moaned in ecstasy. I complied, gently nipping at the left one, which was currently in my mouth.

“Harder!” she insisted breathlessly. I chomped down, just short of drawing blood. Her head flew back, her mouth opened silently, and I thought I had gone too far. Her wrenching cry of “God, yes!” and the onset of a shuddering orgasm that had me rocking and rolling on the sea of her belly proved me wrong. I continued chewing her teats and drawing mews of pleasure from her as I thrust faster and faster into her, reaching my own climax. Her orgasm must have lasted 2 full minutes until I finally shot my load deep inside her and collapsed on to the soft expanse of her body, my head resting on one of those exquisite flesh pillows.

“Mmmmmmmmm!” she purred, caressing my hair. “That was nice!”

“Shit yes!” I agreed between gasps. “You are one hot fucking lady!”

She laughed and hugged my head, her arms squashing her breasts against my cheeks in a soft embrace. “I have so much passion stored up, it’s like a dam breaking when I let it out. I like wearing corsets and lingerie at work. It makes me feel sexy. I keep hoping for a chance to show them to a man who likes my body. It looks like I finally found one. I’m glad I was able to make you feel good!”

I propped myself up on my arms. “You are definitely sexy!” I said fervently. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“I think that can be arranged,” she said with a smile. “I may need to trade off with Sharon, though. I think she’s hoping for a repeat performance, too.”

Oh, man! I thought. What had I gotten myself into? I was completely exhausted, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. I was going to have to name this place ‘Fantasy Island’ I mused, since it seemed that every fantasy I had ever had was coming to life here. I almost expected Mr. Roarke to pop out of the bushes, Tattoo scuttling along behind him. The improbability of it all struck me, but no sooner had the thought popped into my head, it seemed to be pushed right out again in a wave of acceptance. This is all meant to be, I realized. Everything is going to be all right. I believed this with the sincerity of a brainwashed cult follower, and only a tiny part of my brain wondered why.


To be continued....

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