Island

I sat up and grabbed for the native woman's breasts; she got up and turned around, and I reentered her and continued fucking, rubbing and squeezing her boobs too. God, they were juicy, and she loved it when I played with them. She bounced up and down on me at a furious rate, starting up her growling again. That sound was what drove me wild, and we pushed against each other until even the snakes and tarantulas grew fearful and slunk away in alarm. If heaven was anything other than this, I'd have rather stayed on this island.

I wanted her to know how much I was enjoying it, so I rearranged us so that I was on top. From there I jackhammered her into the mud, and she gurgled and grumbled in severe, feral pleasure all the way. My tongue played with her boobs as I thrusted, and she seemed to be convulsing in bliss. Finally, she achieved her goal: I felt her pussy tighten around my dick as her loins exploded with ecstasy, and she let out a scream more wild than anything I'd ever heard, which sounded anything but human. I kept going the whole time, fighting against her bucking hips like a lion tamer. As her body settled, I pulled out.

But I wasn't finished with her. I rolled her over onto her stomach, and, after a moment, she rose into her original position, on her hands and knees. I took a deep breath before going back in. She really was wonderfully tight. I grabbed her hips again, and started slowly. She responded, and our sexes slid around lazily for a while.

Then she growled again, and we sped up. I panted hard as I drove into her just as she thrusted back, and, reminded of the beginning of our mating session, we redoubled our efforts, attempting to conclude on an even better note. She was sort of growling with each pant now, and I couldn't help it--I let out a roar myself, letting everything know that there was a new king of this jungle. This excited her to a point beyond her control, and her thrusts became irregular and panicked; then, once again, her wonderful pussy clamped around my cock, and in response I blasted my seed into her; we both let out indistinct, extremely loud noises with our final mutual thrust. As the island rang with our lust, her arms gave out and her face sank into the mud, and I similarly collapsed on top of her. I was utterly exhausted, but this orgasm had been even stronger than the last, and I could only assume that the same was true for her. I lay there over my queen of the jungle, and thought about the things I'd teach her. English, maybe, and then the concepts that could be expressed with it, but also a certain number of sexual strategies--then again, she'd given a world-class performance, so maybe it would be her who taught me.

* * *

Stacy emerged from the edge of the jungle--oddly, she looked like she was fuming. Charlotte waved her over to the boat using one of the shirts she had been given--Stacy came over and dressed herself as though the clothes had done her some great wrong.

"Did you find Mark?" Charlotte asked.

"He's dead," said Stacy.

"What? But you said he was--"

"I saw him. Dead."

"Oh, poor Mark . . ."

The two girls started to board the rescue boat, but were interrupted by what seemed to be two unanimous animal howls from deep within the jungle.

"What on earth was that?" Charlotte asked. Stacy mumbled something angrily and marched on board. Charlotte, following her, mused, "I wonder what ever happened to Maribel?"

"Dead," said Stacy, "the little whore. I saw them both. Getting eaten by vultures."

"Aww, Stacy, I'm sorry you had to see that," said Charlotte sympathetically.

"Maribel," Stacy muttered. "Over me? Fucking Mark . . ."

Charlotte, not catching on, said, "They're both in a better place now."

"Where they want to be, alright," Stacy said to herself. "In each other's pants. Fucking Mark. No wonder you spent so much time in the jungle. Goddamn motherfucker."

"You should've seen Mary, though," said Charlotte breezily, "she slimmed down like you wouldn't believe. Well, I guess maybe you did see--sorry, that was insensitive. It's just, they need to make an island workout program or something."

Stacy looked down at her potbelly, visible beneath the undersized shirt she'd been given. She scowled furiously, looking out the window at the island as the ship sailed back toward civilization.

"Fucking Mark," she said.