Sugar Sand Cay

Was the woman in her lap still the same one-person puke fest that had polluted the water and the peace on the trip to Sugar Sand Cay?

Nah, this was a fluke. Rhonda would just have to get pregnant and let her milk make her look perky again. Or, as she'd suspected all along, have a boob lift. Maybe a boob lift along with breastfeeding? Then she'd get the best of both worlds. She couldn't keep having kids, though. Mark only wanted three―wouldn't budge, now that he had a boy to live out his father-son fantasies.

She remembered why she cared about her body at all when she thought about her husband. Maybe he could sniff the age on her. She was thirty-one. Three kids were birthed in that short time. Her youth was nearly spent up, even at her young age. He might try to move on. He'd given her no reason to think so, but her feelings didn't have to be logical to be present.

Her changing body was enough of a worry for her to recoil from sex. It only worsened her anxiety. If she started looking old, then stopped blowing his mind sexually, he'd surely leave her. To trade her in for a new model. She'd never had to be so paranoid, but as her job in IT started taking up their quality time, she had to wonder what Mark did while she was busy behind a monitor. She didn't want to think about it.

The spark. That's all she needed. Rhonda needed to find her spark. To do that, she needed to get back to civilization, which meant not dying while stranded in an island jungle.

"Maybe I'm just vain, then," Rhonda shrugged, knowing her body was on her mind enough for it to be considered vanity. "I'm afraid to go under the knife, but that doesn't mean I'm not conflicted. Might be worth facing my fear."

"It's hard for me to believe you're afraid of anything. You were calm during the storm, you built a shelter, you dragged me into it―sorry for being dead weight, by the way. Like, Rhonda, you're the most badass mom ever and if I ever become half the woman you are, I'll be happy with my life. Don't change."

"Thanks." Rhonda grinned, feeling light despite the heavy situation. "You aren't doing so bad yourself. Young, beautiful, conquering your fear of boats and water. That's admirable." The compliment was spontaneous and the exact opposite of how Rhonda would have felt just two hours ago.

"Landed me stranded on a beach in the middle of a typhoon. I must be doing something wrong," she laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I wish I could say I did it to be strong or brave or cool, too. But, like, I didn't. I did it. . . to be stupid, I guess."

There. Rhonda heard it. She'd tuned in to the vibe and felt with her everything that she should ask what she'd wanted to ask her niece before. "You and Michelle, right?"

Ocean turned so that she was looking straight up. The slope of Rhonda's hips almost made her slide away, but a hand was placed on her neck to secure her. There wasn't much eye contact going on, as Rhonda's enormous, milk-glutted breasts were mountains between them, but at their valley, they could barely make out each other's features.

"I'm trying to work out a reason for her to say 'yes' when I ask her out, you know? I don't want it to just be about the wanting to have sex. We're madder than hatter for each other, in that case―I'm sorry, is it even okay to talk about your niece like this?"

"Proceed," Rhonda said, forcing herself not to grit her teeth. Michelle was an adult but Rhonda still had a mother bear about her. It would be a shame to hate Ocean for saying something stupid about Michelle after going through all the effort of saving her.

"When I see her the corners of my vision blur―not because I'm famished, either. It's tunnel vision. I know I'm attracted to her. It's actually a lot deeper than that. I think I love her. But, like, she's motivated and career driven and strong-willed and I am none of those things. When we met, I had nothing to offer."

"So you faced your fear of swimming. . ."

"Yea, so she'd kinda, uh, see that there's more to me, you know? I can face my fears and be strong and not worthless. Except, that's all I've managed to do all day today." Ocean closed her eyes. "I've probably got her worried about me. Some catch I am."

The mother bear was pacified and the nurturer came out to replace her. Before Rhonda could command her hand, she started stroking Ocean's head and curling the girl closer. "I can tell you love her. And love is enough, Ocean. If it's genuine, it's the most valuable thing you can give her. It's more important than achievements, trophies, and best-laid plans."

"Geez, you're such a mom."

Rhonda sighed and rolled her eyes. "You have a few kids and, all of a sudden, you start speaking in life lessons. I promise you'll do the same one day."

"A few kids? I thought Caleb was your only one? How many do you have?"

"He's my third."

Ocean all but leaped up. The shelter shook as one of her legs kicked at one of the support branches. Rhonda made a noise that brought an apology to the younger girl's face.

"Sorry, sorry! But wow. Three kids? You look twenty-two! Look at your face and your body―what are your genetics?"

Rhonda could ask the sextuple bacon cheeseburger eater the same question.

But then, Rhonda answered the question internally: her genetics were Michelle's genetics. Then, her mind skipped and jumped where it shouldn't have. If Ocean and Michelle had physical chemistry, it just might explain why her lap was tingling with the ghosty weightlessness of Ocean leaving; why Rhonda really had lingered as she watched the girl's ass, and why it mattered so much what Ocean thought of her body.

Her skin burned everywhere Ocean gazed. Something familiar and ancient riled up inside her. She remembered how her bikini wasn't designed to fit her big, round size G jugs and knew that she hadn't milked at all since Caleb's small noshing earlier. The genetics Ocean praised were the same ones that were filling her milk ducts with more than she needed, producing ounce after ounce by the hour till she was even larger than she'd been before.

"Where are you looking?" Rhonda narrowed her eyes, finally uncomfortable enough to turn her body away.

"I-I was, uh," Ocean stammered, blinking a few times. She looked to want to explain herself, but gave up. "I'll stop. My bad."

"No, it's alright. I was only. . ."

Only what? Rhonda wondered. What was it she was reacting to? Certainly nothing sexual, right? She was married with children—happily married. Well, mostly happy. There was always the issue of the spark.

She thought only repressed and deprived women thought about sex like she currently was—about sex with strangers or acquaintances. But here she sat, bashful to have Ocean appraising her. So much for her confident act. She was sure her raw nerve was exposed on her face, big and vulnerable.

"It's my fault." Ocean conceded. "I've had Michelle on my mind for the past few days. They weren't the most platonic thoughts. I'd hoped maybe we could spend some time together but that never worked out. I guess, since you look so much like her—in your face and, uh, waist, and hair. I guess I'm just delusional and can't tell the difference at the moment. Just, sorry. A straight woman shouldn't have some lesbian humping your leg unsolicited."

Rhonda tried dousing the conversation with humor, not wanting Ocean to bear all the burden. "Considering the circumstances, I can't exactly blame you. Kinda can't help our close quarters."

"Hehe, yea. Yea." Ocean nodded, giggled, and then went stock still. "We're kind of stuck like this, aren't we?"

Great. Rhonda had successfully reminded Ocean of exactly what she was supposed to be distracting her from. Worse, the girl with blue-tipped hair looked every part of dejected. Her smile never changed her eyes and the tiny segment of skin on her knee that was touching Rhonda shuffled away.

She hadn't meant what she said―Rhonda was just trying to be in control. She wanted to be confident, to be a security, and to perfectly handle the broiling sensual tension (which was clear on both sides). She wanted to hear Mark's boat engine on the water, wanted to see Michelle and Caleb―wanted and wanted and wanted.

She wanted too much.

One simple thing was what she needed to grasp onto. Otherwise, her grasping at three or four wishes at once would result in all of them slipping between the cracks. She sucked in a long breath and decided to focus on nothing but how she could get through the next few minutes. If she could just act right for the next sixty seconds, she could be sure to do so again as many times as it took. Every sixty seconds is a victory. It would be rough, but it could be done.

That was becoming her mantra, lately.

"Ocean, come here," Rhonda spoke, lacing her words with honey. "Out of the rain."

The olive-toned girl had been looking at a puddle forming further off in the woods but turned at the sound of her name. "What?" she asked, pretending not to hear.

"I'm not mad. Come here," Rhonda repeated, patting her lap.

Ocean seemed cautious. It took a few reluctant glances before she actually moved, and when she lit her head against Rhonda's thighs, she did so with poise and grace. And awkwardness. The steamy, frantic eyes that Rhonda beheld when she looked down were definitely the eyes of a girl confronted with her own sexual desire, wrestling with whether or not she should be aroused. The body above her was certainly a turn on, as was the face. It was one like Michelle's, but it wasn't Michelle.

The older of the two watched her breath, never letting it shallow. Watching Ocean too closely turned Rhonda on, and seeing Rhonda hot and heavy would probably create a feedback loop. It became clear that their only audience was the forest and a curtain of rain sheltered whatever lascivious acts they could stumble into. Their acceptance of each other's needs were balanced on a tightrope, teetering on each side, likely to fall.

It called to her from deep inside. She'd never felt so deeply for another woman, actually. A novel, searing heat made the edges of her arousal slick. Adding in the public element, the island getaway component, and the shameful allure of infidelity—it should never excite, but it always does, likely when the will is at its weakest—Rhonda had to all but imagine herself in shackles to keep from making a move.

Instead, unsatisfied by her own carnality, she troved deeper and found that same nurturing spirit; the same from before. Even if Ocean couldn't distinguish between sex and care, between niece and aunt, Rhonda wouldn't let that affect her.

She ran her touch over the girl at her lap, taking note of how the suddenness of touch tightened the surface of Ocean's skin.

"It's okay," Rhonda soothed. "I didn't mean for it to seem so weird that you would find me attractive."

Ocean made a noise. It wasn't clear that the conversation was in the direction of things she was willing to discuss.

Rhonda continued. "Actually, attraction is a natural thing. I'm flattered, not offended."

"Doesn't excuse how I was ogling—. . ."

"Are you hungry?" Rhonda interjected.

Ocean rolled her face away, eyes wistful. "Of course."

"Then there's something I could offer you, but only if you're comfortable." Rhonda went over her proposition for the third time in her mind as her thumb passed over Ocean's cheek. In the end, she reasoned the same way and decided to go for it despite the inkling of doubt pervading her mind. It echoed over her mentally, a choir of spectral voices.

Will I be able to take it? It's going to be too much.

I should wait until she's absolutely starving—don't offer it right after talking about attraction.

This feels wrong. Shouldn't this be just for Caleb?

My tits are killing me, though. I need some kind of release—any kind.

'If I have you seduce someone for me, it isn't technically cheating'. Those were Michelle's words.

I'm going to make love with her. If she touches me there, I'll have no choice but to have sex with Ocean. There's no way I could ever tell her no, not if she—. . .

Breathe, Rhonda. Breathe!

She gasped, realizing that her breath had gone shallow and heady. The clumsiness of her sharp inhale had Ocean's brow tweaked into a curious concern.

"Sorry," Rhonda said, and bolstered her confidence so that she could say what needed saying without betraying the tangled web of emotions doing battle inside her. "Ocean, you're going to need your strength if Mark comes with the boat. It's a jog to the beach and a swim to get to the boat. If nothing else, I need you to be strong enough to flag him down. I'm useless. Building this shelter basically took it all out of me."

"Yeah," replied Ocean, showing that she was paying close attention to Rhonda's words.

"So what I think makes the most sense," said Rhonda, already moving a hand to her bikini. "Is to feed you."

Ocean blinked. The expectation was for her to be disgusted or repulsed or otherwise react negatively, but much to the blonde's revelation, Ocean locked eyes with the puffy, pale globe above her and considered it with round eyes. "Are you sure? Shouldn't it be for Caleb?" asked Ocean.

"His picky self is the reason I'm about to pop in the first place," said Rhonda, like being busty and milky was the least convenient thing in their predicament. Really, it was the best. "It's got to come out some way, and there's no sense in wasting a source of nutrients right now."

Rhonda was surprised when Ocean sat up, falling from the perch of a lap. She held herself up by propping her arms behind her, positioned perpendicular to Rhonda, and actually licked her lips at the look of the blonde's piddling bikini fabric bunching against her enlarged nipple. "What position is most comfy for you?"

"I'm not picky."

"What would you prefer? Sitting up? Laying down?"

"You've given thought to this," Rhonda commented. She thought she might be taking a spot reserved for Michelle.

"Rather recent, but yes. They're right in my face when I lay on you."

"Didn't have much choice, then. Sorry."

"Given a choice, I wouldn't choose anything else to look at," Ocean shrugged. "It's boobs or rain."

"And rain hasn't been the friendliest lately."

"Hard to fantasize about rain, too," Ocean said, watching a space to Rhonda's left. "Anyway, if you're okay with it. . ."

"Yes," said Rhonda, blinking at the words she'd just heard. "Yes, please. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Would you like to lay down?"

There was barely four feet of clear, open ground to fit into. "Tight squeeze, but I don't mind. Would you be comfortable that way?"

Ocean nodded. "Warmer that way, too. It's getting chilly. Must be late."

Rhonda had to moor her mind to her mission. She had to aim at doing right by Ocean. She focused on how peaceful she felt as the tanned, curvy twenty-something curled in toward her and slowly took hold of her. She carefully lowered herself and Ocean to the jungle floor atop the uneven, jagged timber she had floored the shelter with. They almost went down side by side, facing one another while clinging tightly, but at the last possible moment, Rhonda gave the girl below her a twist and ended up on top of Ocean. She held herself aloft with one arm, the other awkwardly dangling.

She felt the smack of her enormous breasts as they came down on top of Ocean's. That comment about food going straight to Ocean's tits was right. The girl was big and soft and bikini clad. It was impossible not to know by feel alone that prime cups were comfy, springy pillows under Rhonda's body.

But Rhonda was another level of large. Hers were much, much bigger than they felt―and felt smaller than they actually were. She could tell by how they folded over and around Ocean's own pair. Sure, her being on her back made Ocean's all-natural breasts look a little smaller, but Rhonda was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to be suffocating the poor things. Her fully engorged breasts were several cup sizes larger and didn't seem shy about it, glomping Ocean's whole torso even without them intentionally flushing into each other.

Rhonda bit back her grandeur. Ocean wasn't small and it sort of felt good to have her jugs sparring with a pair that were a weight class beneath her. It actually felt wholly satisfying, as being the larger, more mature partner was very much part of how she thought nurturing ought to be. Twice today she'd mentioned reductions. Countless times since Caleb's birth, too. She thought having large breasts was only supposed to mean something to her husband. Now, she was discovering that having a large chest meant something to her, too.

"Is this okay?" Rhonda asked. It was when she looked down that she could feel the rise and fall of Ocean's lungs and see the darkening of her cheeks as blood swirled up into her face. Her lips were a bloody heart; round but narrow at the bottom lip and a daring valley for a cupid's bow, gently lulling into the corners of her mouth. They'd been freshly licked and glinted beautifully when strobes of lightning slashed through the sky.

"I'm alright," Ocean breathed, in precisely the way that a lady who wasn't alright might. Out came quivering, anticipatory breaths that seemed to blow her lips larger and fuller with each inhale.

Rhonda knew it wasn't the case, but she swore she saw them engorged and sultry and pouty beneath her. It struck her that this visage, this image of the Ocean in her heated torrents, was something that had been locked away and reserved for her niece. And here she was, privy to this sacred thing, sliding her huge, taut titties over it like she was trying to seduce the person beneath. No, Ocean needed no seducing. She was thoroughly engaged. And all that seemed to do was engage Rhonda. The feedback loop was deadly―they could take it, a spiralling stairway to heaven.

They could. They really, really could.

Once the campfire in Ocean's eyes was seen, it couldn't be unseen. How Rhonda managed to move herself higher and straddle astride a pinched waist with her thighs, she could only barely understand. Nurture. She just wanted to nurture this girl. To make her feel warmth and safety and oneness and hope. In the middle of a tropical storm, if she could do such a thing, then it would have to be enough.

It won't be enough until you fuck her. It could never be enough.

That final voice remained, but she spoke over it. "Don't be shy. Just do it. Have all you need," Rhonda offered. She employed both arms and came down slowly till she felt the point of her inflamed nipple stroking something supple underneath. All the while, she knew her words would be the last testament to her restraint. Even Rhonda, and her logical coherent mind, wasn't confident in what was about to take place.

She felt words vibrating up her body like vines up a stalk. "I'll be gentle."

Then, all at once, the entire sensation altered. She'd expected something similar to breastfeeding. That was what she'd done thrice over and was most accustomed too. Her husband was a chasteless titty fanatic―part of the reason their marriage and sex life was so enviable―and would rough her breasts up in acrobatic, dazzling ways.

The inside of Ocean's mouth, though, was like a hearth. It was like it had been preheated to accommodate her flesh. Nipple vanished, folded into the blanket heat of a tongue. Areola became sticky and clung to the lithe, full set of lips kissing them. The tender touch reflected a body that was fully in the moment, and the feel of a smoky 'mmm' rolling through Ocean's whole being was absolutely intoxicating.

This was a woman's mouth. This was how she was meant to be sucked. It penetrated her differently, opening her from a different crack, pulling an unknown string to unravel her. Rhonda couldn't stop herself from gasping, and couldn't keep the swear off her own lips. "Shit. . . Ahh, shit!" Blurred by arousal, her 'Ahh shit' nearly sounded like 'Ocean'.