Bum's Rush

I'm guessing it's supposed to be a ward against bad spirits or something.

The chief signed that we should stow our packs in the hut and follow him - so we did.

He led us back to the central fire - where it appeared the entire village had assembled.

In flowing gestures that almost looked like a dance, the chief told us that rain was coming.

The villagers looked happy at the announcement. Apparently, the rain would signal the end of whatever ritual we had been observing.

Once that proclamation had been made, everyone started heading off for their huts - so Megan & I did the same. I was definitely ready for some rest.

As soon as we were inside, Megan stripped down to her bra & panties and then laid the skins on top of our new bed. She grabbed the hammock we'd been using as a light cover and looked up at me, clearly expecting that I should be ready for bed by now as well.

I turned away from her, stripped to my briefs, and lay down beside her.

She threw the cover over, snuggled up against me, and started snoring.

Personally, I thought it was a little too hot for deer skins, covers, and sweaty sisters - but my brain didn't leave me conscious long enough to worry about it more than a minute or two.

Day 5

Early the next morning, we awoke to the sound of rain on our new roof - the roof of our new home.

My teammates clearly knew what they were doing because, despite the fact that we'd built this thing in a little more than half a day, we were dry as could be in the rain that varied from a sprinkle to a cloud-burst.

Our guide appeared and we followed her to the central fire - which was smoldering.

Once everyone was assembled, the chief held up his hands and everyone quickly grew still.

And then - for the first time in three days - I finally got to hear his voice.

As he spoke, he still signed. It seemed like most of that was for our benefit - me and Meg - because everybody else looked like they knew the routine.

Since the last full moon - which seemed to coincide somewhat with midsummer - the tribe had been under a vow of silence.

The rains signaled the time of cleansing & renewal following the time of abstinence & sacrifice.

There would be no work this morning, everyone would bathe & cleanse themselves, and - when the morning rains had moved on - we would eat the noon meal - and prepare for the evening celebration.

Our guide returned. She took us back to our house. Once we were there, she asked for permission to enter - using words and hand-signs.

Inside, she told us to grab our shower things. Once we understood, she went outside and waited.

Megan and I turned away from each other, stripped off our clothes, changed into our swimsuits, and grabbed whatever else we needed.

Outside, our guide blushed and sent us back in to gather our dirty clothes.

When we'd done that, we followed her to the hut where she slept and waited while she gathered her things.

Just past our hut, there was a wide path that led off to the left of the central trail through the village.

We (and several other people) followed this until we could hear the ocean.

The cloud-bursts had mostly stopped - but there was still a steady drizzle coming down.

Along the way, our guide tried to exchange names with us.

Neither side succeeded in mastering the pronunciation of the other - but hers was something like Heather - sort of.

Heather led us to a lagoon that was, apparently, the male side of the "bathhouse".

Once I knew where I was headed, she and Megan left and, presumably, headed to the girl's lagoon.

Before they left, she handed me a lumpy mass and told me it was some kind of soap.

I found a place for my things at the edge of the greenery, stuck my bar of soap in my pocket, and went for a swim. The water felt amazing.

It seemed like I was not the only one who was enjoying simply relaxing in the gentle waves.

Most of the men were naked but a few had some kind of shorts or breach-cloth on.

Feeling refreshed, I took out the lumpy soap and worked it through my hair. A warning for those who travel this path, keep the stuff out of your eyes!

Clean hair - or as clean as this would make it - turned me into a real person again.

I scrubbed the rest of my body and went for a little swim to rinse myself.

Finished with that, I collected my dirty clothes, got them wet, scrubbed them with the soap and then - following what the others were doing - laid them on the sand - just within reach of the light waves - and walked back and forth on them.

Once they were looking less dingy & gray, I wrung them out, carried them up, and collected my things.

I went back to the place where the girls had dropped me off to find them coming up the path.

They were both smiling - obviously feeling as good as I was at being clean again.

I tried to return the soap to Heather but she told me to hang onto it.

Back inside the house, she showed us how to rig up a clothesline for our unmentionables. She intimated that most people hung those with the rest of their clothes - outside - but she thought Megan's undies were different enough that she said she might want to hang them inside instead.

Outside, between our new palm tree and the hut, we hung a line for the rest of the clothes.

Once Heather was headed to her home, I carried my briefs and swim-trunks back inside - and hung them with my sister's delicates.

Since we had about an hour before the midday meal, Megan and I took a little time to go through our packs and straighten them up - after our mad-rush to escape the angry boat-crew.

We also spent time catching each other up on our adventures over the last couple days.

Although she'd already figured out the basics, I filled her in on the details of the boat-retrieval - as well as my two hunting adventures.

She told me about the food-prep and other basic skills she'd been learning.

We were both curious to see what would change now that everybody could talk again.

I kind of assumed that hunting-trips would still be mostly hand-signals - at least until we were headed home - but (then again) moving quietly as we returned was usually just as good of an idea as when we were scouting.

Megan was looking forward to enjoying some juicy gossip.

Based on that idea, I felt sure that she would be mastering the natives' spoken language before I would be.

Before we knew it, Heather was back and we were headed to lunch.

At the central fire, the women were forming assembly lines - preparing dough and toasting it on stone griddles near the fire.

As the flatbread came off of the fire, it was loaded onto platters.

Meanwhile, the men were carrying platters to where a boar - apparently - had been buried in a coal-filled pit on the night of the full moon.

The hog had been slow-roasting for three days and was super tender.

The top-soil was carefully cleared away until we got down to the burlap-like palm-bark that blanketed the roasted swine and kept the debris away.

One of the older men climbed down into the cleared hole with his knife and opened up the side of the beast.

The air filled with a divine smell that made my mouth start watering.

An assembly-line of empty platters entered the pit, were filled by guys who knew what they were doing, and exited the other side loaded with our lunch.

Once the carcass was clean - and everybody's hands were full - we headed back to the girls.

Each person got a piece of flat-bread, folded it like a taco, filled it with roasted pork, and then found a place to sit and eat - trying to keep as much of the juice away from their bodies as possible while devouring the deliciousness.

It was amazing. If I could leave a Google review, it would have sooo many stars ..

Anybody who wasn't too stuffed to move could get seconds after everybody had been through the line.

I couldn't move. That was absolutely the most I had eaten in what felt like years.

Had we, seriously, only been on this island for less than a week?!

The rains had stopped soon after we had returned from our baths and doing the laundry.

The ground was still damp - but I really wanted to just find a shady spot and take a nap.

Joshua walked towards us and I realized my window of opportunity had just evaporated.

He gathered a crew and it looked like we were going fishing.

Heather came to get Megan and they headed off to their chores.

I signed to Joshua that I'd be right back and went to grab my hammock-net.

He looked at it curiously when I returned but didn't say anything.

I'd been fairly successful with my untraditional approach to things lately - so I think he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.

When I returned, everybody else seemed to be ready - so we headed towards the lagoons.

Once we were there - and the rest of the crew was heading to their favorite fishing spots - I unfolded the net and talked Joshua into helping me walk it through the chest-deep water.

Within a few minutes we had a dozen fish. We delivered these to palm-leaf baskets on the shore and then went out again. Several minutes later, we had another dozen.

After we dropped those off, Joshua was studying the net more closely. We moved a little to the left and repeated the process - gathering in another ten fish.

The traditional fishermen were having pretty good luck as well and - in less than an hour - our baskets were full.

We carried the baskets over to where two men had dug a pit.

At that point, everybody got their knives out and started cleaning fish.

Joshua watched me - with my blade for a bit - and then asked to trade. I warned him that it was very sharp.

Honestly, his knife wasn't dull. It went through the fish almost as easily as mine had.

We traded back and he remarked about how tough the metal blade was.

When we were finished, I wiped it clean with some leaves and a little water from my water-skin. I thought about cleaning it in the lagoon but was worried about the salt.

I didn't think the others would have those concerns - but I noticed they were using their water-skins as well.

We gathered up the baskets and headed back to camp.

When we arrived, the chief seemed a little concerned that we'd returned too early but - once he saw the baskets were full - he was elated.

Joshua told him about my net. We demonstrated how it worked. He looked it over and nodded.

The baskets went to the women. Meanwhile, we were tasked with building several cook-fires around giant stone pots - and a couple more with spits above them.

Joshua led us to the butcher's place, where we retrieved two of yesterday's hogs - ready for the spits.

As we were getting those in place - and setting the rotation for running the spits and trimming off the cooked meat, the women started fish stew in two of the big pots.

The butcher arrived with the meat from the crocodile and that went into the remaining pot.

An hour or so later, things were progressing towards a feast that dwarfed the lunch that I already thought had been too much!

Obviously, the chief was aware that I was the only one who didn't know what we were getting into because - as he started making his rounds through the various cooking stations - to taste the product and declare it satisfactory - he invited me to tag along.

The gator-stew (croc-pot?) was a little peppery but that reduced the gaminess.

If there was a difference between the two fish stews, I couldn't taste it. It was similar to the sort of chowder dish that I had accidentally made our first day on the island - but with herbs added that made it much more hearty.

The grilled pork - being carved off of the spitted-hogs was more plain but who can say "no" to a barbeque?!

On top of that, we still had plenty of roast left from lunch and that was being warmed up on a griddle - bit by bit - as the new load of flat-bread was coming off the fire nearby.

The whole camp smelled like an episode of Diners, Drive-In's, and Dives.

Dinner time came and everybody helped themselves to whatever they wanted to eat - it was an island buffet.

I started with a bit of the crocodile, hoping the peppers wouldn't cause me problems.

For some dumb reason, I suddenly realized I hadn't had to take a crap since we'd arrived.

After eating too much at lunch, however, I knew that was changing.

I was going to have to ask Heather or Joshua were the little warrior's room was.

I looked at Megan who must have read my mind because she pointed to where two small huts were tucked down a short path off to the side of the camp.

She tried the crocodile but went for the chowder instead. Both of us had a piece of flatbread that we were using to scoop up the soupier parts of our meal.

When I finished the reptilian stew, I opted for a little more of the roast from lunch. Although I liked how the spitted-meat had crisped up a bit, the flavor in the slow-roasted meat was unbeatable.

Megan stopped after the chowder and we just relaxed as everybody else finished their food.

Once everyone was done, the chief stood and made an announcement that the kids were headed off to their homes.

A few families only had one kid. Depending on their age, they were picked up by families with teens but, soon, the only people left around the fire were those who were married - or old enough to marry.

As the kids headed off, the leftovers were stored away and all of the food-prep items were returned to their places.

Decisions

Dusk was falling. Big stone jars of some kind of fruit juice were brought out.

Each person produced or - in our case - was provided - a coconut bowl or a wooden cup.

Once everybody had filled their drinking-vessel, the chief offered a toast - celebrating the end of the time of purification - and a prayer - calling on the island spirits to bring blessings on the tribe - health, successful hunts, peaceful homes, and strong babies.

When he had finished the prayer, everyone raised their glasses to the sky and then drank deeply.

The beverage was fruity - and fermented. Even with one solid drink, I felt like my body was humming. My head wasn't spinning but I was feeling pretty happy - and energetic. I tried another sip - which turned into a drink as the liquid danced across my taste-buds.

It was kind of like sangria - with a little minty bite. It wasn't my favorite medley of flavors - but it was like cold water on a hot day - I just couldn't stop taking another sip.

I looked over at Megan to see what she thought; she kissed me on the mouth and went to refill her wooden mug.

I licked my lips - feeling where she'd kissed them - and watched her walk back to the stone jug.

Her steps weren't sloppy or cautious like she'd just chugged a tumbler full of fruit wine.

I looked down at my cup and realized she'd taken it with her.

Not for the first time, I noticed that my sister had a nice ass - but I usually looked away a little faster than I did this time.

Megan returned with tumblers refilled with the intoxicating beverage and sat close.

The chief and his wife stood and walked closer to the fire. They put their arms around each other and started slow-dancing.

There was no one playing music but it was almost like we could hear the melody they were dancing to.

The other village elders stood - with their spouses - and joined the chief & his wife.

After that, the other married couples started joining the sensual display.

As we watched, Joshua approached Heather and asked her to dance. She smiled, took his hand, and they joined the others.

Soon, Megan and I were the only ones not dancing.

Watching them hold each other, cuddle, and kiss was just as intoxicating as the drink.

Sometimes couples would return to their drinks, refresh themselves, and then go back to dancing.

Megan downed the rest of her glass, stood, and reached for my hand. I hesitated for only a moment before I finished my drink and stood. She folded her arms around me.

My arms went around her and I realized my hands were a little more on her ass than they were on her hips. I thought I should probably move them - but I didn't.

Megan's arms went around my shoulders and she drew me in for a kiss. That was not a kiss that a sister gives to her brother!

"Megan."

"Mikey."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea. I think that drink has something in it."

"It's okay."

"Megan. I'm serious. I don't feel drunk but, like, all my inhibitions are melting. We need to get some water and stay out of that shit."

I stared straight into my sister's brown eyes as her lips targeted mine.

That last kiss had been the kiss after a first date - a first date that had gone really well and guaranteed a second date.

This kiss? This kiss was the kiss of a lover in the afterglow of a steamy climax. Holy shit!

Megan was no longer my little sister; Megan was the hot classmate I had wanted for years but never confessed to. She was the cheerleader I'd drooled over but was always unapproachable. She was that smart nerdy girl in the librarian glasses who fulfilled every criterion in a computer nerd's checklist of the perfect girl - who spent his nights jerking off to the vaporous imaginings of what she looked like naked. I was in love; I was in lust; I was in heat. I needed to satisfy her; I needed to hear her scream my name as I pumped her full of babies!

"Megan," I moaned.

Her lips were on mine again. The last of my resistance was disappearing. The last bit of oxygen-infused air was sucked out of my lungs - and I succumbed.

When Megan stopped kissing me this time, I realized I had my right hand on her breast and my left hand cupping her ass, pulling her closer.

Without another word, we gathered our things, grabbed our mugs, stopped at the cauldron to refill them, and headed for our hut - hand-in-hand.

We were too focused on each other to notice that every other couple was leaving the fire to do the same thing.

Inside, our drink glasses went on the floor - by the crocodile's head; our clothes went into a pile nearby; and our bodies came together on the bed.

I expected my sister's legs to be thrown open by the time I got to the rustic mattress but her knees were together - so I laid down beside her - on my side.

She pulled my face to hers - kissing me lustfully again - her body telling me that she wanted this.

There was still a small voice in my head, reminding me this wasn't socially acceptable but that little voice was also just a tiny bit curious about what my cock was going to feel like - buried in my sister's cunt.

Megan was still kissing me. I had one hand behind her head - the other was groping her perfect breasts and pinching her stiff little 22-calibre nipples.

One of my sister's hands was under my chin - the other was cupping my balls and groping my fuck-stick.

Once she had, apparently, gotten the kiss she wanted, she rolled me onto my back and straddled my waist.

Her hands on my chest, she lowered her crotch until it was just above the deerskin cover of our mattress. As she leaned forward - lips moving towards mine - her smoldering pussy cuddled my stiff rod - pressing against it - trapping it between her gorgeous gash and my soft abs.

Slowly, tauntingly, she dragged the tight lips of her quim along the underside of my aching man-meat.

As her soft folds reached the lower rim of my needy knob, I held my breath.

She slid forward just a little more.

When the head of my cock was nestled against her fuck-hole - cuddled by her labia - she rocked back & forth in the tiniest of strokes - rubbing her slit on my cockhead - bumping it against the bottom of her distended clitoris.

I was grinding my teeth - trying to resist the intense desire to grab her hips - and plunge my sex-organ into my little sister.