Washed Ashore 4
For the next week Kate and I made furious love at every opportunity; she seemed to have an insatiable lust, and I was trying to drive the thoughts I once again found shameful from my mind. But no matter what I did, no matter how she squealed and ground her hips against me, no matter how many times I was able to thrust my head past her last barrier and into her deepest space, no matter how many times she came, I still couldn't get off myself until I took her from behind, and even that began to be less and less effective. It was maddening, to be deep inside a young willing cunt and still have to make love like an animal.
"You're amazing," she said, collapsing to the sand after I finally finished, panting from exertion. "I've never had a man who could get me off so many times without cumming. What's your secret?"
I couldn't tell her, couldn't bring myself to even admit the reason to myself. "It's all in the mind," I sighed, settling with a half-truth. "You're pretty amazing yourself." I meant it of course, but not completely enough to deserve the look she gave me as she rolled over, her pretty young breasts dusted with sand.
"You've haven't gotten the best of me yet," she grinned, reaching for my shaft as it hung limp from my belly.
There wasn't much of anything else to do on the island; we stayed under the trees during the heat of the day, looking out at the endless ocean, watching for rescue. We both went naked all the time now; there seemed to be little point in clothing during the day, and at night we kept each other warm. Eventually our watching would turn to foreplay, and our foreplay to fucking. She seemed to need very little to get her wet, so I would keep watching the horizon while her head bobbed up and down on my cock, her red hair, now bleached pale by the sun and salt, drifting about in the breeze. Then, once I was hard enough, she would climb into my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist, her arms around my chest, and lower herself onto my upthrust erection. Sometimes we would just sit there, she in my lap, my hardness inside her softness.
That day she mounted me as usual, then put her head on my shoulder and seemed to doze off. I kept looking at the horizon, occasionally petting her soft back, running my hands through her long tousled hair. When the sun set we were still locked together, but that evening as we progressed into more active lovemaking, even when I shifted to mount her from behind, I could not reach climax. Eventually she passed out, face down on the ground, and I could no longer keep up my motions and I collapsed beside her, my now-flaccid cock slipping out of her passage, soaked with the juices of her orgasms. As if in commiseration, Sam came and curled up beside me.
In the morning I found Kate sitting beside me, peeling a melon. "Last night…" she said slowly, and I couldn't tell what she was feeling. "Last night was incredible. I've never been fucked for so long." Then her smile faded a little, and she offered me a piece of the melon. "But you're exhausting yourself pleasing me. Why don't you just let yourself go? I won't be mad if you cum more quickly."
We finished our breakfast in silence. I was trying hard to think of a way to tell her, and she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Finally, as we were heading for the ocean for a quick swim before the sun rose too high, she put her hand on my shoulder and kissed me slowly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I'm not very good… I've only ever had two lovers, and neither of them were so…" She trailed off.
I couldn't take it any more. "No, no Kate," I said, gripping her gently yet firmly by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. "It's not you. You're fantastic, the best girl I've had in… Hell, in my whole life! You're great, and you're trying so hard to please me. It's not you, it's me." As this cliché slipped out, I inwardly cursed myself for being so chicken-shit. But I still wasn't ready to admit what the real problem was.
She looked back up at me, her hair wild, her eyes filled with tears, and I couldn't help loving her, her petite form which made me feel strong, her soft yielding flesh which I could feel pressing against me. And I hated myself for loving her and yet not loving her. But she saw none of that. As we bathed in silence, our eyes were locked together, neither of us looking anywhere but the other's face.
Later, as the morning turned hot and we sat in our usual spot, she seemed content to simply snuggle against me, her skin, still soft even with the sand and spray, pressing warmly against me. I put my arm around her shoulders and we wordlessly watched the sun slowly set in the west.
As night fell she rose and walked toward the fire pit, and I followed, thinking she wanted an evening meal. But when I found her she was gathering the stalks of a peculiar plant, one which oozed clear syrup as she broke it. "It's good for sunburn," she said, without looking up, "and cuts and scrapes. Very soothing." Then she stood with her handful of stalks and turned to me. "It's also a good… lubricant," she almost whispered.
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed.
"I was just thinking that maybe… maybe you need a little additional stimulation," she said, her cheeks coloring in a blush I hadn't seen before. "I've never done this before, but I want to do it with you."
Instead of replying she got on her knees in front of me and began slowly bringing my limp cock to life with her lips and hands. I closed my eyes with a sigh which sounded contented but was in fact resigned. I had never thought that I would be so unhappy to be getting head from a beautiful girl, but there it was. Then I noticed she wasn't sucking my shaft, she was rubbing the juice of the plant all over my member. Then I knew what she meant by lubrication.
"Now do me," she said throatily, turning and getting on her hands and knees in a position I both loved and dreaded. I started to spread the slippery sap on her outer lips, but she giggled and said, "Not there, silly. That's got enough lube on it's own." She wiggled her buttocks invitingly, spreading her legs slightly, and as if by magic I saw her tight rosebud anus open slightly.
"You don't have to do this," I said. However, I must admit that I was turned on like I hadn't been before; I'd never done this either and the thought of her tight asshole around my shaft made me wonder if perhaps this was the answer. She said nothing, just thrust her rear back at me, so I spread the juice all over the space between her cheeks and then pressed my fingers onto her opening. She tightened and then relaxed again as I lubed her up, remembering what I'd been told and wondering if the plant sap would be enough. I didn't want to hurt her.
"Oh get on with it," she said finally with a giggle that sounded as nervous as I felt. I laughed with the same nervousness and rose to my knees, my cock, harder than it had been in a long time, jutting out from my waist at just the right level. With my hand I rubbed it up and down her buttocks, passing over her taut anus with each pass, making her shudder each time.
"Relax," I told her. Easier said than done, I thought to myself, but having said it I positioned the head at her tightened opening and began to press myself into her. It was tight, much tighter than anything else I'd ever felt, virgin cunts, my hand, toys. The ring of muscle stretched open little by little. She was gasping already, and I worried that I was going to hurt her, but she said nothing so I kept up my pressure until she relaxed just enough and my head popped into her asshole. She cried out, a long high wail, and I almost pulled out again.
"God," she gasped. "It's so tight." That was a bit of an understatement; her panicky clenching and relaxing of her anus almost squeezed me out by itself. But I pressed deeper, fraction by fraction, stopping when she moaned, waiting while her rear got used to my penetration, then continuing. When I had only half of my cock in her, she moaned at me to stop. "I can't take any more right now," she panted. I noticed her hand between her legs stroking herself, occasionally moving to stroke my balls. We stayed like that, my cock half in her anus, for a few minutes.
Finally, after some time and a few more wails, I invaded her anal passage to the hilt. At any other time in my life I could have simply sat there inside her and her spasming passage would have taken me over the edge without thrusting, but I could feel myself growing less and less aroused, so I began to thrust, at first pulling myself out only an inch and pressing back in, then gradually working until I could pull out halfway before going deep again. With every thrust she wailed, but if it was hurting her she didn't say a word. Finally, with the sun long set and the moon rising, I had worked my way back out of her virgin butthole completely, and when I slowly pressed in again, spreading her anus wide, she came louder than I had ever heard her.
With my cock deep in her rear, the orgasm was long, hard, and very pleasurable. It was like a vibrating tunnel surrounding me, the muscles of her stomach tightening, her hips squirming. I kept thrusting until she was wide open but still cumming. And yet I did not; in fact, with every thrust, I grew less and less aroused. Finally, after she had quieted and then been brought off again by my pounding, my cock had gone limp and slipped out of her now-stretched anus, and I could no longer stand it. My desperation for orgasm was greater now than it had been before Kate arrived on the island. So I finally gave in and again her hips and buttocks turned into the warm, woolly, inviting tail of a ewe. Her ass beckoned, and she seemed to be perfectly ready to continue, so I thrust my suddenly stiff member back into the passage of her ass which had now become a ewe's cunt and came almost at once, but the desperation didn't dissipate; it grew. With the splashing of my seed into her asshole Kate collapsed and I on top of her, and we slept.
We slept through the morning and into afternoon before she finally woke, rousing me. My cock inside her was hard, and her anal ring had regained its tightness so I popped like a cork from her ass. She laughed and rolled over, fluid leaking from her pubic arch, draining from both holes. "That was better than I expected," she laughed, her eyes closed. I couldn't look at her.
"Look… there's something I need to do," I said when she crawled over to me with a look that said she wanted more. "I need to go into the jungle; please don't ask me why. I promise you I'll be back before nightfall." She looked a little disappointed, but took the news that she would have to wait better than I expected. But in truth, I didn't care. I had to find the flock again and finish this once and for all. As I went stalking from the beach inland, I heard a bark and Sam trotted up to me, panting. "Shit," I muttered. Turning, I saw her watching me, and I called, "Can you watch Sam for me until I get back. I don't want him following me." I realized what I'd just said. "The jungle could be dangerous," I added lamely. She just jogged up, her perfect breasts bobbing in a way that would have set my loins aflame but now just made me feel worse. Taking Sam by the collar, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, fondly, before pulling him, somewhat reluctantly, back toward the fire pit.
I dashed off toward the glade where I had first seen the sheep what seemed like a lifetime ago, my mind made up, my purpose clear. I could only hope they'd be there.
TO BE CONTINUED…