Island of Truth and Consequences Pt. 02

Part Two: And

Michelle clutched at her lover, not caring if she seemed needy. She was needy. She wrapped her legs around him, holding tight. She was wet, he was wet, and he was pushing up inside her as far as he could, firmly, repeatedly, just the way she liked.

She shuddered, her clit coming to attention, tingling with that special excitement she craved so badly. He was kissing her, sweet kisses that sent electrical shocks up and down her spine, out to her fingertips and curling toes.

He broke away from her mouth, kissing her eyes, her nose, the side of her neck, nibbling on her ears.

"Oh, God, Micheal, Oh God!"

Their bodies were making squishy wet sounds where they were connected. He was making soft sounding grunts, which became increasingly higher pitched as he got closer to his climax.

He was going to pull out in a few seconds and cum all over her tummy. This was how their act of love usually ended, and she loved it, she loved him, but this time she wanted more.

She concentrated on squeezing her girl muscles around his hard, slippery, cock, squirming beneath him as she did so, clinging to him desperately as their sweaty bodies, hungry, inflamed, flesh, slammed together in delicious unison.

"No, no, baby, I'm close, too close," he panted.

"Yes," she pleaded in a little girl's voice her brother found irresistible. "Don't stop, Micheal. Do it inside me. I know you want to. Do it inside me, baby, PLEASE!"

"Oh, God, Michelle, it's going to happen."

Michelle's orgasm was like a tidal wave of pure sensation. Her back arched like a cat's as she desperately held on to her brother. She could hear the sounds she was making as if they were coming from another person. They sounded like an animal in heat.

She Was An Animal... A Human Animal.... A Human Animal In Heat!

Her body exploded with sensations that overwhelmed her five senses, and she was unable to control herself, not wanting to control herself. She screamed out the name of her brother as they writhed shamelessly together on the floor of the cave they called home.

Vaguely, she could hear his voice, barely recognizable. "I'm cumming, Michelle, I can't stop. Oh, God, it's happening---Oh, God, Mitch!"

Yes, My Beautiful Pet,

My Passionate Man,

My Intimate Lover,

Let It Happen....

LET IT!

When she fully regained her senses, they were still clinging to one another fiercely, both of them panting, gasping for air. She was aware that his baby batter had shot deep inside her, the first time he ever deposited his lovely seed directly into her quivering vajayjay.

Oddly he was shaking, as if he thought he'd done something wrong. She held him even tighter, never wanting to release him, wishing he could stay inside her forever.

If she could die like this, in just this way, with him inside her, this would be the way she'd choose to perish--Their bodies bound together from this place, with their spirits soaring away to whatever place came next.

She entered into the afterglow of her orgasm. It had been a delightfully violent climax. Now he was brushing her hair back behind her ear, touching his face to hers, kissing her face lightly.

Out of all the men she'd ever been with, this was the one who paid the most attention to her after the actual act of love had been completed. Of course, she had trained him this way, but she couldn't train him to care about her or want her. She couldn't train him to love her. That could only come straight from his heart.

She laughed a little looking up at him, studying the face she had come to depend on after all these months on the island together.

"What?"

"Whew," she replied.

"Why did you do that, Mitch? It was a dangerous thing to do."

"Having the man I love cum inside me is dangerous?"

"You know what I mean."

"Did you like it, Micheal? Did you like cumming inside me?"

"I loved it, silly, you must know that, but what if you... " His voice trailed off.

"What if I get pregnant?"

"It could be dangerous, Mitch. Things could go wrong."

"Oh, darling... Women have been having babies for hundreds of thousands of years. Things hardly ever go wrong."

That wasn't really true, of course. Women died from complications of childbirth even into modern times. She wasn't going to admit that to her brother, though. He'd only worry more, and she had accepted the responsibility of being the one to do the worrying. It was a burden her brother didn't need to take on.

Besides, nothing like that was going to happen to her. She had a body built for making babies, lots of them, and she was already getting a late start. She should have started making them when she was eighteen.

Of course, had that been the case, she wouldn't have been making them with Micheal, not unless she wanted to risk going to prison. No, she was convinced this was all meant to be, and everything was going to work out just fine.

As their mother liked to say, "Good things come to those who believe in good things."

"But what if things do go wrong," her brother was saying. "I couldn't live without you, Mitch. I just couldn't."

She hushed him then, which she could do because he trusted her completely, and they cuddled together preparing to sleep. This was their first anniversary together on the island, at least as far as they could reckon, and Michelle had wanted to make the night special for them both.

He fell asleep first, and as she held him, listening to his light snoring, she realized how crazy in love with him she actually was. She'd do anything for him, no matter how outrageous. She woke up each morning thinking about him, and went to bed each night with him on her mind.

It was getting to the point where they could finish each others sentences. Just being around him made Michelle smile all the time.

It had been months since she had lashed out at him about anything. Of all the men she'd ever been with, this was the one she was the most intimate with.

Not just during sex either, although that was unbelievably intimate, but the way they lived their daily lives. Going to the bathroom in front of one another. She would have never dreamt she could one day squat and pee in front of a man without feeling self conscious about it, yet it was something she now did almost every morning.

The first time she had a period in front of him, and she had been so embarrassed she had wanted to crawl off someplace to die--He had taken her hand and told her she was beautiful, and she believed him, and slowly became comfortable around him because she didn't ever want to feel the need to hide from him.

And when he had the diarrhea that one time, testing out the berries he was unsure about, and he had gotten so sick he was frightened he might actually be dying, she'd stayed by his side, messy and disgusting as it was, until he was well again.

That was intimacy!

All their long talks, exchanging of ideas, their shared secrets, working together to make a new life for themselves, caring more about what the other person needed or wanted.

That too was intimacy.

As she lay beside him now, twenty minutes after their feverish lovemaking, thinking about all he meant to her, Michelle felt a twinge deep inside herself, and then a terrible itching.

What the hell?

Somewhere deep up inside her she was quivering. Quivering and itching. What was happening?

She was about to sit up, when she felt a little convulsion ripple through her insides. Then a tingling like she never felt before. She felt a hot flush, then everything slowly returned to normal, except for a dull throbbing.

"Oh My God," she thought suddenly, "I'm pregnant." One of her brother's little spermies had penetrated one of her eggs.

She wanted to wake Michael up. She wanted to tell him the good news. She was twenty-one years old. It was time to be a "mommy." She wanted to dance with joy.

Still, she had never actually been pregnant before, and the whole idea worried her brother terribly. She would wait until she was sure to share the wonderful news with him.

Two weeks later he was late coming home. She was tending to her stew, worrying about where he was. He wouldn't let her wander around the island without any clothes, and the two camouflaged shirts she'd taken from the dead soldiers were little more than rags now.

She had been completely naked for three months, which was the last time he'd let her wander away from their waterfall home. Someone was living on the far side of the island near the little beach. They'd seen smoke coming from there. She'd wanted to sneak over to take a look, but he was too protective of her. She had practically forgotten the two rapists who'd put her through half a day of horror, but Micheal would never forget.

The one thing she really liked about being continually naked, was how her brother looked at her. To him she was a work of art. Each time he saw her, it was as if he was seeing her for the very first time. He made her feel beautiful with his eyes, every single day.

Without a bra, she was fearful that her breasts would sag, and she'd end up looking like a native woman out of National Geographic. Even though their diets kept them both lean, she did exercises she'd learned from her mother three times a day. Exercises designed to keep her body tight in all the right places. She was fairly certain her breasts remained in as good a shape as before the shipwreck.

She worried about the day she would start producing milk. How would that affect the look of her titties?

She worried about how she would appear when she was all preggo and fat---Would Micheal still want her?

She worried if her goat stew had enough spices added to make it tasty. Would it be more than just edible?

She worried about the temperature fluctuation of the water that cascaded past the entrance to their cave. Why did it seem colder than usual for no apparent reason?

She worried about the two bodies that had mummified over time, which they had removed from the cave and buried. Should they have left them alone?

And she was worrying about where her man was, why he was taking so long to come home?

Although she now smiled more than ever before, Michelle was still a worrier.

"Hello? Is the lady of the cave at home?"

She was relieved to hear his voice.

"The lady of the cave is slaving away over the kettle. Is my lord and master hungry?"

"You bet." He had come in behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into him and he kissed her cheek. "How are you, beautiful?"

"Better I guess, now that you're back. You know it gets weird in here sometimes."

"Did anything strange happen today?"

"Not really. No creepy feelings of being watched. Something's here, though. Something trying to communicate. I don't have to tell you, you've felt it too."

"What do you think it is?"

"Something ancient, Micheal." She paused thinking about it. "Something that doesn't want us here, but needs us to do something for it." She paused again, then smiled. "I'll figure it out eventually."

"Poor baby." He kissed her on the back of her neck. "I thought things would get better when we hauled the two mummies out of here."

"It did get a little better. I think they wanted us to take them outside. I'm just not sure we should have buried them."

"Well, we could always go dig them back up and put them on display out by the pool."

"Oh you," giggled Michelle. "Sometimes I think you're seriously demented." She turned and kissed him. "Where have you been? I was getting a bit concerned."

"I brought you a present. Come out and see."

"Micheal, my stew!"

She followed him out anyway, then stopped in her tracks amazed.

"Micheal," she gasped, hand going to her mouth. "Where did you find suitcases?"

"On the beach."

"What's inside them?"

"I have no idea, they're both locked."

"Where do you think they came from?"

"Off someone's boat, probably."

"Oh, Micheal, lets break the locks."

"After dinner, honey."

Michelle pretended to pout, remembered her stew, and ran back inside the cave. When she came back out, Micheal was in the pool. She walked over and sat down, kicking her feet lazily in the water.

Micheal swam over, placed his hands on both her knees, and parted her legs slightly.

"Micheal, what are you doing?"

"I was just thinking I'd like an appetizer to-"

"No," she said firmly. He backed away, maybe a little hurt, but not saying so. Michelle noticed he was already hard. He had wanted to perform oral sex on her, but she felt like a hairy beast down there. If he had insisted she would have let him, but he didn't, thankfully.

She slipped into the water and swam up behind him. By the time she reached him she was already tingling in all the right places. He turned to face her, and she wrapped herself around him.

"Ah," she sighed when he entered her.

They made unhurried love over the next forty minutes, kissing, touching, clinging to one another. She didn't have an orgasm because the water was colder than usual, but just as he was getting ready to cum she disengaged herself from him, sank under water, and took him in her mouth.

When he had finished, she resurfaced, touching her mouth and making a yum sound. Then she laughed, and swam for the wall. He caught her there and they kissed again. A long lingering kiss, looking at one another the entire time.

When they broke the kiss, Micheal looked at her a moment, then blurted out: "I love you."

She almost decided to tell him she was pregnant right then and there, but she still wasn't absolutely certain herself. She looked at him for a moment, then said: "I know."

Then she laughed, pushed him away, pulled herself out of the pool, and scampered back to the cave.

After their dinner, served in dried out coconut shells cut in half, he brought the two suitcases in, and Michelle noticed for the first time that both had dark, black streaks, along their narrow sides. It was a sobering sight to her keen eyes.

"Micheal," she said quietly. "These didn't come off any boat. These came out of a plane crash."

Truthfully, as far as he was concerned, it made no difference. Shipwreck, plane crash, train wreck, who cared? Just before he broke the lock of the first one, Michelle crossed herself.

The top sprung open, and they found it was filled with the wet clothes of a woman. Not stylish, but practical. As Micheal removed them, he came across nail clippers, and two unopened toothbrushes.

Michelle yipped with delight.

"Gimme," she playfully demanded.

In the other suitcase they found more womens clothing, obviously that of a younger person. They also found unopened disposable razors, and several bottles of various lotions.

"Gimme!"

Later, after cleaning the kettle, and laying all the clothes out to dry, Michelle clipped her finger and toe nails for the first time in months. Then she carefully shaved off all her pubic hair using a mixture of coconut milk and one of the lotions as a primitive shaving cream. She also shaved her legs, which didn't turn out as well for her. She felt like a million dollars, but she made a bloody mess of her legs.

After Micheal had used the clippers, Michelle carefully shaved away all his pubic hair too. She wasn't at all sure he wanted her to, but he could tell how much it excited her, so he let her. It took awhile, because his throbbing cock kept getting in the way of her progress.

She believed it was her greatest good fortune that her brother's sex drive was every bit as strong as her own!

Later they made love all night long. She loved the feel of her skin to the skin of her brother. She had orgasm after powerful orgasm, and although she desperately wanted him to continue cumming inside her, she accepted him releasing his seed on her tummy and breasts. She even let him do what no man had ever dared try with her in the past. She let him paint her face.

Micheal brought out the naughty, dirty, side of her sometimes.

She almost told him about her possible pregnancy again, but forced herself to wait just a while longer. She did tell him what he desperately wanted to hear. What he should have known without being told.

"I love you, Michael."

The next day he came back carrying two more suitcases. One was visably charred along the top, the other dented. Micheal was surprised when Michelle came out of the cave wearing what she described as a smock. It covered her from her shoulders to her mid thighs. She was also wearing her shoes for the first time in weeks.

She was afraid he'd be disappointed with her. He did give her a cool once over with his eyes, head to toe.

"Oh come on, you still get to see the best of me when it counts. I'm having a little trouble getting used to my shoes, but you don't have to look so disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed, Mitch. I need your help."

"With what?"

"You need to come back with me to the beach."

"How come?"

"You'll see."

Once Michelle saw it, it was hard to unsee. There were suitcases stewn across the beach. It was obvious they had been through some sort of explosion.

Calculating the number up quickly, she realized it would take them seven trips to haul them all back to their waterfall. Seven trips, and a long walk each way. She knew that was what Micheal intended on doing.

"Why? Why do we have to take them all back, Micheal? Why can't we open them here, and decide what's worth keeping?"

"Okay, Mitch, we can do that, but we'll still have to hide all of these. We can't just leave them out in the open."

"Why not?"

"Because it might attract the wrong attention. You want those soldiers back here crawling all over the island?"

That was enough to sell Michelle on the idea of hiding them. With a bit of an effort, they managed to get them all open. They gathered what they wanted in a pile.

The suitcases contained mostly clothes, but they found other little treasures, from deodorants, to more disposable razors, to a pair of scissors, to some dehydrated fruit in little sealed packages.

To Michelle's disappointment, they didn't find any soap or usable tampons, but they did find a well sealed bottle of aspirin, a couple of boxes of "emergency" candles of all things, a harmonica, and most intriguing, though not in any way useful, a small carry on bag stuffed with American currency.

They later counted the money several times until they were sure they had an accurate count. It came out to fifty thousand dollars, which they stashed in the very back of their cave.

On some nights they made a game of trying to figure out what the money had been intended for. Micheal thought it was drug related. Michelle thought it was a business transfer of some sort.

"Well," Michelle said, after they'd buried the last suitcase in the sand, "I guess we're officially looters now."

They slept in their old spots on the beach, before returning home the next morning, transporting their stash in three suitcases they'd set aside.

They both found clothes that more or less fit them, and Michelle found a few bras she could wear. The first time she had the nerve to try one on, she got a peculiar feeling.

She could imagine the other woman's breasts, and had the odd feeling of touching her own breasts to that of the unknown woman's. Her nipples hardened at the thought of it.

She wondered how long it took that particular woman to die? Did she have time to be frightened? Did she watch out the window as the ocean rushed up at her, hoping for a miracle that would somehow save her? Did she have a final vision of her parents, children, friends, or lover? Did she touch herself in those final seconds, hoping to have one final climax before her existence was snuffed out?

The impact must have been terrific. Did it knock her senseless, or did she feel the fireball that rushed up the aisle before being extinguished by the ocean? Did she shit herself as her body was torn to shreds? Did she have one final view of herself trapped in her seat as her head was torn off, the top of her spinal column waving goodbye as it spun away?