A Little Island Getaway

It got dark while they talked. There was no time to build a fire. Everyone got one can of fruit salad to eat. Molly, the Aussie, and Steve got profiled as the survival experts so they got to call some shots. They decided that beach towels should be used as blankets. They also decided people should pair up because the night might get cold.

The models talked among themselves. Steve looked at flight attendant Lisa. It looked like they might end up as a pair. He tried to grumble something polite, about her being free to choose whatever she was comfortable with, and so on.

"I'll do it," Katie, Miss USA, said.

"What?" Steve said.

"I'll sleep with you... I mean, I'll pair up with you."

"Look who is in love already," Anastasia, the mean bitch, said.

"No no, I will do it," Gretchen interjected. Anastasia had no clever quip for the boss.

"No, really. Even though no one really knows anyone yet, Steve and I got to talk on the plane. I really don't mind," Katie said.

"Oh. Such horny pussycat," Anastasia purred.

"Shut up, bitch. You're acting like a child," Katie said.

"Now now girls. Stop the fighting. Katie can do what she wants. Who will take Lisa here?" Gretchen said. Francine, the French nymph, volunteered to bundle up with the cute, hot flight attendant.

Without much more fanfare, Katie, arguably America's hottest bikini model, wrapped herself around Steve, and they burrowed into their designated pile of beach towels.

As she fell closer to sleep, Katie's small sniffles sounded very suggestive. Steve hoped she would not notice his budding erection. Once Katie was asleep, though, the setup became oddly comforting. Simply having someone there has it's own magic. Steve relaxed and fell asleep, too.

He was in the darker than dark and emptier than empty again. He could feel the same female presence he had sensed before. She was somewhere behind him but Steve could not see anything. The scent of flowers followed her and Steve could hear her whispering. He couldn't make out her words.

Much later, a sense of pleasure started to fill his mind. It seemed to originate from his groin. He opened his eyes and the purple haze lingered in his vision.

Katie's serene face was right in front of his, in the predawn glow. Her delicate lips were puckered and she was moaning again. That sound would have roused him if Steve wasn't hard already. Her breath tickled his neck, sending shivers through his whole body. His lips got within millimeters of kissing hers before he realized something was actually going on, down lower.

Steve could feel Katie's hand stroking his erection. His cock leaned against her thigh. She stirred and increased her pace, and her moans became more frequent. Her lips touched his neck. Steve froze, not wanting to wake Katie up.

In a flash of purple, Steve was in the dream again, and the hand on his cock took on a ghostly, translucent form. It was the entity, and Steve could hear her whispers clearly now, as a floral breeze carried them to his ears. "Take her. She is yours. They all belong to you. My gift."

Then the hand stroking him was back to being Katie's, again.

More purple spread in his vision and he could not hold back anymore. Steve came on Katie's hot thigh. He left a big, gooey smear. Katie kept pumping him with a soggy hand.

Steve looked at Katie. She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, but said nothing. Then she smiled and closed her eyes again. The purple haze swallowed Steve and he fell back to sleep. Maybe it had all been just a dream, after all.

Day Two

Later in the morning, Steve woke up. The sun was already hot, and on its way up. Katie was still there, in his arms. Her magnificent breasts were snuggled against his side.

"Did you sleep well?" he said. To his surprise, she blushed a little bit. "What?" he said.

"Nothing. I just had a strange dream."

"Really? Me, too. What was yours about?"

Katie just smiled and got up. She blushed even more when she realized how much her bikini top had shifted over night, and quickly realigned it. Just like always, the show was over before Steve even realized it would have been polite not to stare.

As soon as everyone was up and about, there was another meeting. Molly, the Aussie, and Steve were still the two who knew most about what to do. They got to be in charge of assigning jobs and priorities.

Queen Bitch Anastasia was not at all happy with this. She protested, but actually had nothing valuable to contribute.

Salvage operations still got the priority, but people also started to prepare for fishing and fresh water gathering.

No dead bodies had been found, anywhere. The living survivors were still the only people around: the entirety of the bikini team, plus Steve and two hot female flight attendants.

Anastasia refused to work. She just laid there on the beach and enjoyed the sun. When someone else found a few bottles of wine in the sea, she was the first to pop one. Some of the other girls seemed to gravitate towards her lifestyle choices. Priya, the intense beauty from India, was one of the first to join Anastasia.

"Let man do job," Anastasia said, when Katie and Gretchen tried to get them to do their part.

Yasmin, a dark Egyptian model, was unhappy with the slackers, too. Steve could tell she was a strong personality, not one to take shit from anybody. She spoke with a perfect British accent. Steve had thought Yasmin had been judging him, earlier on, but maybe she didn't have anything personal against him. Maybe she was just uptight, in general.

All of the girls were wearing bikinis now. The tatters of what was left of their other clothes were completely cast off. Even the flight attendants had made the switch. Lisa looked very nice in a bikini, despite her obvious lack of confidence when comparing herself to all the professional models around her. The bikinis came in all kinds of colors and patterns, roughly matching the mood and boldness of each girl.

Gretchen was right up there with the younger girls. The only signs of age she showed were the tiny wrinkles around her eyes, and some very minor blemishes in the texture of her skin. The idea that she was somehow too old, for anything, was completely ridiculous.

Steve found a sharp piece of hull shrapnel and cut the torn legs off of his pants, turning them into shorts.

That night, they managed to get a fire going before dark.

Anastasia was mean again for no reason. She laughed at Lisa, the flight attendant, because of her body. She was still teasing Katie about being so close with Steve, too.

They all slept around the fire so there was no mandatory cuddling. Katie and Lisa were sleeping on either side of Steve. They started the night away from him but ended up in his arms, at some point. To be fair to them, other people had also clumped up into groups over night.

Come morning, Steve was in no hurry to wake the girls up. He spent as many minutes and as many seconds as he possibly could with their warm boobs and poky nipples pressing against his sides.

He was sure their tops had slipped again, but he didn't dare take a look, for fear of any movement rousing them from their blissful, and very clingy, slumber.

Day Three

The salvage was pretty much done. All that was left in the ocean had sunken to the bottom. The group concentrated on building shelters next. There was still a lot to do.

During the day, Francine sidled up to Steve. Her lithe, angelic features still made him feel nervous, not to mention all tingly inside. She was all woman, but being so svelte compared to the others made her stand out as somehow delicate, or even innocent.

"Excuse me. It does not bother you that I take my top off?" she said, with a heavy French accent.

"What?" Steve said. He blushed hard.

"The top. I do not like it. Uh, chafe, yes? I take it off, no bother?" she said, and rubbed the undersides of her breasts. Her grin was radiant.

"Uh, no. No. Doesn't bother me at all. Don't mind me, do whatever you want. In fact, I was thinking of losing the shirt, too, uh, because of the heat and stuff, and, you know..."

Francine giggled as she pulled her white bikini top off. She did it with a flourish. She smiled coyly as she handed it to Steve, then spun around on the tips of her toes and skipped off, still grinning.

Her boobs were full, round, and firm; picture perfect. And definitely not small. Smaller than the other models', sure, but that was an anomalous frame of reference. Steve forgot to breathe, and suffered some heart palpitations.

"Francine! Put your top back on," Gretchen shouted. The other girls were either giggling or groaning.

"Is no problem. I ask Stevie, no problem," Francine said. Her smile never wavered.

It was Yasmin from Egypt who came to Francine's defense. "Come on, Gretchen. She can do what she wants. We're not here for him. If Francine wants to... be Francine, she doesn't need anyone's permission, especially not his." Yasmin still spoke in perfect English, with her slight British accent.

Steve agreed with Yasmin's sentiment. He didn't see any reason to point out how she was maybe even over correcting in her feminism by making this be about ignoring Steve so specifically.

Pretty soon the other girls got over the spectacle, too. Steve was also somewhat on his way to pretending like he didn't care. Look but don't touch, right?

Some good work went into Steve and tomboy Molly's fishing setup that day. They had the beginnings of a raft they could use as a platform. People would be assigned shifts.

Later on, Steve ended up having a small conversation with feminist Yasmin. "I just wanted you to know I agree, you know, about what you said about Francine. I don't want to be the boss here, or anything like that. I just want us all to work together, and get along," he said.

"Most of the girls are doing their part," she said, and gave a sideways glance at Anastasia and her cronies, "But just so you know, I see the way you're looking at Francine, at all of us. Just keep your hands to yourself and you'll be fine."

"I can respect that. But you are bikini models. A certain amount of male attention comes with the job, right? I'll try my best, but I can't always help it."

"Look. I'm not some kind of a bikini bimbo. I realize my looks are an asset and I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage. If I ever become famous enough to have a platform, I will use it to promote equal opportunities for women. Especially in Africa and the Middle-East."

"That's a brave thing to do, hats off to you," Steve said. He really did admire her seemingly genuine drive to make a difference. Yasmin wasn't as intense and intimidating as Priya, on pure looks alone, but Steve could definitely see a future in politics for Yasmin. She did have charisma.

In the afternoon, the group was split into teams, to explore the interior of the island. Even Anastasia got going after Gretchen told her that if she found a diamond tiara in a pirate's treasure, she would get to keep it.

The island was fairly big, which was a good thing. There were lots of coconuts and other fruits available. It would probably take over an hour to walk across the whole of it.

Most of the girls were back before sunset but Priya from India was missing. Gretchen asked Anastasia about her but she told her she was not Priya's mommy.

As the sun went down, the group got increasingly worried. Molly wanted to go out and look for her, but it would have been impossible in the darkness.

Eventually, Priya did show up. She offered no explanation as to where she had been. She just said she wanted to take a walk on the beach, no big deal. Gretchen was unhappy with her but the others didn't seem that bothered by the whole thing.

All through the evening, in the light of the fire, Steve still had to concentrate hard on not staring at Francine's round and firm titties all the time. She was still topless and Steve had a sneaking suspicion that top was never going back on.

Day Five

The shelters were well on their way now. They were mostly built from plane debris and palm fronds. The group kept adding to them and slowly improving them over time. The shelters were off the sand, but near the beach. There were three "buildings," one for each faction. The political lines had become clear.

Steve hadn't really wanted to be a faction leader, or to get a "house" of his own, but it happened.

All-American Katie was still a firm believer in integrating Steve into the group and she always took his side in any argument. Somewhat ironically, this had led to them forming a separate faction. Lisa and the other stewardess joined them. It was an easy fit as they were fellow outsiders, along with Steve.

The final member of House Steve was topless Francine. She agreed with Katie about integrating Steve. She also seemed to like Steve and Katie personally. Gretchen was unhappy with the topless girl living in the same shelter as the only man, even though everyone was supposed to get their own private "rooms."

The second faction was built around director Gretchen and Aussie tomboy Molly. They formed the core group of the bikini contestants. Proud feminist Yasmin was happy to join them. She was all about the girls doing it for themselves. Most of the other models joined them, too.

Also with them in the "big house" were Grace and Isabella. Grace was the shy and serious redhead from Ireland. Isabella had black hair, blue eyes, and she was from Italy.

Isabella was more soft and feminine, and classically beautiful, whereas most of the other models were a bit more athletic and more specifically bikini-bodied. It was also impossible for Steve to ignore the fact that the melancholic Isabella had the biggest pair of full, juicy melons on the whole island.

Grace and Isabella spent their time together and they were more invested in the whole survivalist aspect than some of the girls. They were both quiet and serious, seemingly more aware of the precarious nature of this whole situation. They did more than their fair share of the jobs, too.

The rest of the girls there were either too selfish, too ignorant, or too scared to face the situation head on, so they chose to pretend like their own immediate survival wasn't in any way uncertain, and that sunbathing was a valid solution to all of life's problems.

The third house was the princess house. Anastasia, the bitchy Ukrainian brunette, ruled there. Their shelter was mostly built by Isabella and Molly, but the two chose not to stay and live there.

Priya, the mysterious dark girl from India, was one of Anastasia's top cronies.

Joining them were the other exotic beauties of Gabriela and Rosa. They had actually helped quite a lot in building the princess shelter, and they kept working on it. They were also amazing chefs, so the princesses had annoyingly good food.

Gabriela was from Brazil and had a mixed African heritage. She was blessed with amazing amounts of firm tits and ass. She was noticeably more full bodied than the other models, even Isabella. Isabella had the biggest tits, but Gabriela was the curviest over all.

Rosa, from Costa Rica, was a close second to Gabriela on the butt front. She had more of a traditional Latin thing going on, to thank for her butt-genes.

Neither woman had done much talking with Steve, and now that they were in the princess camp, they showed even less interest in him.

In the afternoon, the girls from the main house finally set up the volleyball net. Everyone had fun watching and taking part. Even most of the princesses played a little.

Molly and Katie, the athletic blondes, were clearly the best players, and no one wanted them to team up together.

The dream team was about the same height. They even filled their bikini tops with about the same amount of firm tit flesh. Molly was more tanned than Katie, however, and Molly also had a more natural hair tone: a straw blond to Katie's more golden tone. Molly also had just a bit more muscle definition.

Katie had found a set of American flag bikinis and she was rocking them with pride.

Francine had encouraged Steve to throw away his shirt. He was a little self-conscious about his flabby mid-section but no one seemed to care. Anastasia was the only one to make fun of him, and Steve had already learned to ignore her, despite her full, pouting lips. Yes, he was definitely ignoring all of his impulses to do something inappropriate in order to shut that wide, succulent, foul mouth up.

In reality, Steve was mostly just too distracted to focus on Anastasia. Watching bikini models play volleyball all day stirred another turmoil of emotions in him. The was lots of jiggling and bouncing, a fair few impending wardrobe malfunctions, and even a decent amount of friendly tush patting.

Having Francine sit right next to him didn't make it any easier. He did his best to resist the temptation, but ended up stealing quite a few glances at her naked boobs. Especially when she was laughing. He'd never seen such a perky pair of nipples as Francine's tiny, pink gems. Those treasures were even held in a constant state of sharp erection by the brisk ocean breeze.

Francine kept touching him while they talked, and she sometimes leaned into him when she giggled. Look-but-don't-touch was becoming decidedly difficult when she was the one initiating it all. Steve was going a bit goofy from all the hormones she was triggering in him.

Later in the evening there was a palpable sense of relief all around camp. The volleyball game had been a symbolic celebration of them surviving the crucial early days. The shelters were well on their way and food and water stocks seemed decent for the moment.

Steve felt relieved and was well on his way to sleep when there was a knock on a piece of engine cowling next to the "door" to his room.

"Yeah?"

It was Lisa the flight attendant. "Hi, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure, come in."

Lisa crawled next to Steve. She smiled, her face now right next to his. She was in a blue bikini and her beautiful body filled it well. "I just wanted to say I'm really happy that you're here, and you've really done a lot to help everyone."

"Thanks."

"Me, especially. I have to confess I feel a little awkward around all these models, but you've always been nice to me." She kissed him. It was meant to be just a quick peck, but it turned needy.

"What was that for?" Steve asked, only barely too surprised not to just go with the flow.

"I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do. Everything has been so hectic and I haven't had time to think. The whole crash, and us being here, it's all happened so fast. I haven't really realized how scared and lonely it's made me feel."

"Homesick?"

"Yeah, that too."

The mention of home seemed to cool her off a little bit. Steve was doing his best to hide his inner turmoil, too. He could hear the strange ghost whisper in his head, "take her, she's yours." Being around all of these gorgeous women all day, Lisa included, was tough, and he was feeling exceptionally horny.

"Uh, this is hard for me to say, trust me, but I have my wife and kids at home. And you're married, too, right? I just... You're very beautiful but it would..." he started.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't even mean that we... This was wrong of me. I shouldn't be so selfish."

"No, no. It's not your fault, at all. This is a difficult situation, and trust me, I know how you feel. I feel it, too. But I wouldn't feel right about..."

She kissed him again, this time longer and harder. "Thank you, Steve, you're a good man," Lisa said, and crawled out, her firm ass poking up and swaying from side to side as she went.

That left Steve unable to sleep for a few hours. He eventually decided he had to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, and find some release. He would worry about the mess in the morning. There was no shortage of inspiration. He could choose pretty much any scenario from the past several days and it would be sure to turn him on more than enough for a little wank.