Crashed

CRASHED

By Dawn Ramble

The owner of a small air transport company experiences an overload. All characters are over 18.

Chapter 1

I was so angry I was ready to explode. It would have been nice to blame somebody else but in the end the responsibility was all mine. I'm Amy Earhart, Yes Amy, not Amelia, but I do fly a plane. I'm Australian, thirty-four, single again after a brief and messy marriage, and a small business owner. I'm five foot nine and in good shape. I have some aboriginal blood in my veins, which accounts for my darker complexion. People generally find me quite attractive. Of course there are still some bigots who belong with the dinosaurs.

My plane is my business; it's a somewhat beat-up Cessna, currently configured for pilot, and up to six passengers with single suitcases and about 1800lbs of cargo, which cost my company a bit over seven hundred thousand Australian dollars and that was a deal. Even after the downpayment the bank has a lien on just about everything the company and I personally currently own. I live and work in Rockhampton City in Central Queensland and ferry cargo and passengers up and down the coasts between Port Douglas in the North and Melbourne in the South with occasional runs to Papua New Guinea or other islands in the Coral Sea within my flight range of 2,000 kilometers. With my regular clients there's just enough traffic to keep me afloat and I'm on call for various types of emergencies.

My present predicament started yesterday when a client asked me to take a load of gourmet food items to Port Moresby for onward shipment to a resort in Vanuatu. Apparently, a shipment by another carrier got spoiled so it was essential they get there today. I got a call later in the evening asking if there would be room for a passenger on the flight.

"It's Jake Thuresby's boy, Raiden. He's got his Aussie passport, so he'll be able to get tourist visa on arrival. I said that would be fine as it would nicely fill my load capacity and give me some company.

That was before the weather forecast changed. When I woke up this morning and checked, the computer screen was red. As I looked for more detailed information, I saw that the potential track of a cyclone that had been well to the north had shifted southwards. It still wasn't directly on my planned route, but it was closer than I liked and there was a potential for thunderstorms in the surrounding area. Not Good!

I headed to the office thinking, if we could get moving on time, we had a window. I really did not want to disappoint this client. Weather is a tricky excuse as things can clear up as quickly as they can get bad and then your excuse looks pretty lame.

I had only been at the office fifteen minutes when my assistant, Pam, arrived and I heard her escorting two people in with her. So, my passenger was on time. Then I heard a bit of a discussion, not quite an argument.

Pam stuck her head round my door. "Amy, we may have a problem."

"I know, I've seen the forecast. I think we have a window if we leave in the next half hour."

"No, it's with the passengers. Raiden's brother, Mike, wants to come too."

"What will that do to our payload?"

"He's a nineteen-year-old, six-four and weighs 89.4 kilos."

"What about luggage?"

"They've both got light bags. That shouldn't be a problem, but I have weighed it all."

"Okay, I'll talk to them while you get me a total loaded weight."

I talked to boys. Raiden firmly told me he was now Ray; he hated his parents' choice of name. Turned out his brother Mike was originally going to stay with a friend, but they had had a falling out and now he wanted to come. If he couldn't come, he did not want Ray to go. So, they went around the issue arguing among themselves. I could tell they were nice boys, and it seemed a shame to leave him behind. I didn't really know Jake Thuresby. I remember there used to be sniggers about him among some of the women closer to my Mum's age.

I did remember seeing him once at the beach with his two young boys. We girls were all naked as usual and I remember thinking as he passed by us, he seemed to have a one-eyed python in his boardies. We all laughed about it. Of course, he was a married man with these two boys by then and everyone said he was a devoted father.

Meanwhile Pam came back and gave me the total gross weight. I like a ten percent contingency factor but including Mike would cut into that. We would be within our limit but not by as much as I liked.

Time was wasting, so I said, "Let's go," and mentally crossed my fingers. It took us another twenty minutes to make sure everyone and everything was loaded properly and do the flight check. The radar said the cyclone hadn't shifted but a steady rain was starting to fall as we rolled down the runway to our take-off position.

We were fourteen klicks out over the ocean, when I saw the first lightning to our left. Twenty minutes later we were being buffeted by the wind and I knew we were on the edge of the cyclone. With this load I did not feel I had the range to fly around the edge not knowing how wide it might be. I told the boys the score and told them to stay in their seats with their belts buckled as I was going to have to fly at least into the edge of it.

Minutes later there was a massif glare of lightning all but blinding me followed almost immediately by an explosion of sound. When my vision cleared it was obvious that we had lost our navigational equipment. As far as I could tell the altimeter was still working but I had no clear idea of our heading. I have flown before without some or all of my instruments, but never before have I had to do this in a storm.

For almost two hours I fought the buffeting of the wind without any idea of our true heading and then I was out of the wind and driving rain but with little visibility. Flying at four thousand feet I dropped below the cloud and below us was an expanse of open ocean. In terms of time, I should be seeing Papua New Guinea, but I was not. It might be just out of sight, but I could not tell. I kept flying in the hope of seeing land. Visibility was getting worse, and I could see my fuel was getting low. I tried to reach air traffic control, but it seemed I had also lost radio contact.

Five minutes later I finally saw an island. It seemed small, but I began my descent hoping to see some signs of habitation. I had also had no communication with my passengers for some time although I had been aware of the retching sounds of the sick bags being used. I wasn't feeling so hot myself. In the lee of the island the ocean here looked relatively calm. I felt confident that with the pontoons on my floatplane I could land safely but how would I refuel? The truth was I was out of options. I shouted for everyone to make sure they were securely buckled in as we were about to land.

The landing was smooth and with an absence of rocks I was able to bring the plane close to the beach.

"Prepare to deplane via the floats," I said as calmly as I could, "I apologize for the turbulence you experienced. We've had to make an emergency landing. I am using the thrust of the engines to keep the plane close to the beach. With luck you should be able to deplane without getting seriously wet, but I would suggest you carry your shoes and roll up your pant legs if you are wearing them. Please leave your carry-ons and I will unload it once the plane is secured."

How was that for a calm I was not feeling? I turned and pointed to the door, "Exit through there. Step onto the pontoon and then drop to the beach. Please help each other. Once on shore move away from the plane."

They got ready to deplane without a barrage of questions. Then at just the wrong moment the wind caught us, and they half jumped, half fell into the water. As they scrambled to their feet, I let the plane drift back before catching a wave and moved thirty feet away. I made sure the wheels were raised before running it up on to the beach. The wheels would just have got stuck in the sand. I cut the engines and waited to see if it seemed settled and then I deplaned with only my feet getting wet. I put their lack of questions down to a mixture of unwellness, shock, and relief at the prospect of 'terra firma', but I did not expect it to last.

"How come we got wet, and you didn't?" asked Mike, indicating their soaking condition.

"With both of you on board we were close to our weight limit even with having used most of our fuel. I needed you off before I tried to beach her. Bad luck with that gust of wind though," I said reaching in and handing them each their carry-ons.

They both moved a bit higher up the beach and Ray opened his carry-on and pulled out a towel and some beach shorts. He turned his back as he stripped and toweled off his butt. He pulled on the beach shorts and turned towards me towelling his upper body. Mike had moved a little further and also pulled a towel from his bag but was less modest as he was in profile to me as he towelled his entire body.

He looked like a Greek God, six-foot-four of toned athletic young manhood, well not yet truly out of adolescence. I couldn't help but notice that he was well-endowed as it hung over his not insignificant balls. It had been a while, and I felt an unaccustomed heat spread through my loins. Sex was the one part of my failed marriage that had been good, and I missed the regularity of it. I tore my gaze away in time to see Ray approaching. Ray had a more sturdy build. At around six feet he wasn't short, two to three inches more than me and he also looked to be in good shape.

"When Mike's ready I need you to help me move the plane a little further up, if possible, before I secure it."

As he nodded, I saw Mike had placed his wet clothes on some rocks at the top of the beach to dry and now he came strolling down towards us in naked splendour. He obviously spent time on one, or some, of our optional beaches as he had a good all over tan with no lines. I tried not to show any of the reaction I was feeling, and said, "I was just telling Ray, we need to try to move the plane a little further before I secure it."

"Isn't that just going to make it more difficult to relaunch?"

"We landed because we had lost our navigation aids, plus we had used over two thirds of our fuel, and I wasn't getting radio contact. Until we know where we are, and unless you can find a petrol station somewhere around here, we won't be going anywhere until some one finds us."

I was already furious with myself for a series of bad decisions, the worst being to even take off into the possible path of an incoming storm. Despite being in commercial coolers I had a potentially perishable cargo that would not be delivered, and now a naked man asking asinine questions was prancing in front of me. Well, to be fair he wasn't prancing, but he was getting in my face...but then he wasn't exactly happy either.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry but there is nothing much we can do until help comes. We are almost certainly quite a way off our course. I'll try to establish radio contact, but if I'm not successful they probably won't even realized were missing until we miss our arrival time. At first, they'll probably think we could be delayed having found a safe landing to wait out the storm not that there are that many options

If we don't establish contact, they'll start searching our route probably first looking for signs of us or the plane on the ocean. We could be here several days. Hopefully, no more than a week. In the meantime, we need to build ourselves some shelter. Right now, as I say let's try to move the plane a bit further up the beach."

My little speech seemed to have got to them, because without further ado we got in position and catching a rogue wave we moved the plane another ten feet. The boys found some carriable boulders to place behind the pontoons while I placed the anchor in a cleft in the rocks and tied another cable round a solid tree trunk.

Suddenly the sun appeared, and, in an instant, it felt really hot. As I stripped off my cotton shirt, I was pretty sure the storm had gone for good. If Mike could wander round naked, I felt comfortable in my sports bra. These guys probably viewed me as old anyway.

"This is like being on 'Survivor'" said Mike and Ray just laughed. I knew the program although I had only watched a few seasons.

"We might not be that far from where they filmed some episodes, although judging by what I saw from the air this island is very small. It may also be very isolated I don't see anything from here. In addition to shelter we need to see if there is a source of fresh water. I probably have enough bottles to last us two days," I said while we assessed the site, we had found in a natural clearing some thirty yards off the beach.

"I'll climb that peak and see what I can see," said Ray, pointing inland at a hill covered in vegetation. I guessed its height to be about four hundred feet above sea level, probably the remnant of a volcanic cone.

"Okay, watch out for spiders and snakes or wild pigs! Mike can help me rig the tarp and prepare a shelter." I watched Ray pull on a clean t-shirt and shake the sand out of his trainers before heading off.

Mike and I worked on the shelter for a couple of hours before Ray reappeared. With large tarp we had a roof and three sides, so we focussed on building a raised platform about ten inches above the ground. It was going to be snug but at least we should be dry. I knew we could expect some rain.

As we worked, I tried to ignore the scent of sweat coming from him and the way his penis swung lazily to and fro'. I've always found flaccid two- or three- inch cocks repulsive sitting in their nest of pubic hair and balls, but Mike had groomed, his large balls were hairless, and his six or more inches kept grabbing my attention. Let's face it, despite my best efforts I was feeling really horny. It was all I could do nit to reach out and touch it. Thankfully that was when Ray reappeared covered in scrapes and scratches.

"The peak gives us a 360˚ view. The island isn't large but much of it has dense vegetation, underbrush and some trees. No animal tracks so there are no paths up the hill or anywhere that I could see. I didn't find water, but thought I heard some on the other side, a stream or small waterfall."

"Did you see any other land?'

"No, but there's a heat haze and the horizon can't be more than two kilometers. I did see a dark shape, but it's just as likely to be a passing rain shower or a dark cloud," he paused and looked at the bivvy, "It looks like you guys have been busy."

"Yes, we've got adequate shelter for tonight. We can work on it more tomorrow. Right now, I feel dirty and sweaty; I need to go for a swim."

"Good idea," said Mike.

"Yes," agreed Ray, and we walked towards the water. Naked Mike went straight in. Ray paused and pulled the t-shirt over his head and took off his runners before peeling off the beach shorts.

I took off my runners and my jeans and followed them in my underwear, partly for modesty, but mostly because my undies were sweaty and gross, and a wash would not hurt them. I liked the view of Ray's firm butt ahead as I followed him into the surf.

After swimming around for fifteen minutes or so I returned to the beach. The boys were still horsing around but they quickly followed. On the way to the rocks, I stopped to pick up my cotton shirt, jeans and runners. I stripped off my wet underwear and laid it out to dry. I stood in the sunshine and watched the boys as they approached. I could see each of them give me, or rather my body, a quick once-over, as I buttoned the shirt and shimmied into my jeans. I put the runners aside as I liked the feel of my bare feet. A lot of my work is physical, and I hit the gym most evenings when I'm in town, so I'm confident in my body, but it was nice to see they thought I was worth checking out.

"Put your eyes back in their sockets, boys," I said and they both grinned.

"Nice scenery here," said Ray, as his grin got wider.

"Not bad from where I'm standing either," I said. My eyes had also been busy watching Ray approach. His penis was also nice, shorter than Mike's, but not short, and definitely thicker in its present state.

"It's going to get dark soon and we should build a dunny away from our shelter. I'll get a folding shovel from the plane, and I'll bring some blankets in case it cools off."

"What are we going to eat?" asked Mike.

"Don't worry I've got four commercial coolers of gourmet food. I just hope it's packed to keep."

Once the dunny was dug we dressed for dinner. That is to say that after generously spraying their nakedness with Deet, the boys pulled on jumpers and shorts. I took the spray and moved away before slipping off my shirt and jeans to spray myself. After spraying I opened my duffel and pulled out a pair of light cotton shorts and put them on, folding my jeans and tucking them back in the duffel. By the time we had retrieved vacuum-packed kangaroo steaks from the first cooler and cooked them, the boys decided it really hadn't cooled and took their jumpers off again.

In the meantime, I opened a nice red from the Margaret River. The steaks were delicious. There weren't any fresh vegetables but right now no one was complaining. Turned out the boys had intended to go diving for their week in PNG. Somehow as we talked, we got through a second bottle, and as I had had at least my share I was feeling satisfied and sleepy. The boys were still talking as I crawled onto the raised platform and pulled a blanket over me. Moments later I removed my shirt and laid it aside. I usually sleep nude and after a minute or two I also discretely slipped off my shorts. That felt much more comfortable. As my mind was flooded with images of the boys' naked bodies, I found my hand wandering between my legs. I played briefly but then I heard them getting ready to settle, and retrieving my fingers I was soon asleep.

Chapter 2

I woke up in a panic. My heart was racing, and my mind was filled with the worst thoughts about our situation. By contrast the boys were sleeping peacefully, the only sound their steady breathing. The night was quiet. I took several deep breaths and steadied my thoughts. I probably had about four hundred klicks of fuel left. I would recheck my navigation aids, although I had little hope. However, if the sky was clear I'll try to track the movement of the sun with my watch and see if that gives m2 a clue as to where we are. This is a simple method called "noon sight navigation. I have maps of the entire region. If I can determine we are close to an island with an airfield I should be able to fly the plane there.

The fact that I had a plan and was too tired to do anything right now settled me down, and after a pee I went back to the bivvy and fell asleep. When I next awoke it was still dark, but the first hint of light was showing over the horizon. I closed my eyes but was aware of movement and faint sounds close by. I opened my eyes and then shut them again. Mike was doing what young men do and was trying to be quiet about it.

I imagined his hand moving up and down his long penis and was instantly horny. Despite myself I found my fingers had crept between my legs into the folds of my sex. As the movements and barely audible sounds continued beside me, I was slowly massaging the length of my clit. The juices were flowing, and my nipples were on fire. I had to move the top of the blanket off them as the fabric was teasing me mercilessly. Suddenly there was a movement and Mike rose to his feet his hand barely moving as he hurried towards the dunny. He did not get there. He stopped by a bush, and I could see him in profile as he stopped by a bush gave a quite rub and I saw several spurts of his cum fly onto it. He continued to stroke for a minute of two more before grabbing a large leaf to wipe his cock.