The Island, Chapter 18 - Sex Stories

The Island, Chapter 18

... prick stiffening again just from touching her naked body. She noticed my boner, and blushing even more, said,” Uh-uh, buddy! No more nookie for you. I’m still sore from last night. You’ll have to wait for another time.” “You’re a cruel woman,” I whined. “Deserting me in my time of need. What kind of nurse withholds vital treatment?” She snorted. “One who got screwed pretty hard a few hours ago, that’s what kind.” I gave in and we dressed, walking back to the beach hand in hand. She pulled me in for one more kiss before we emerged from the trees. “Thanks again for a lovely evening, Joelle,” I said seriously. “You made it very special, and I meant it when I said anything you need, you let me know. I’ll always be there for you.” “I know,” she said softly. “I’ll need you again, don’t worry.” I collected some breakfast, nodding hello to those folks who had risen early, and walked over to the medical hut. Joelle and Gabrielle were talking as the Frenchwoman gave Dkembe his breakfast. I sat down and joined the conversation. Soon I noticed that the African seemed to be more restless than before. He was moving under his blanket, and eventually knocked it off with his squirming. Joelle had wrapped a sort of loincloth around him to act as a diaper, and it was apparent from the bulge in the fabric that he was getting a monster erection. I was pondering the neurological significance of this when his eyes opened. “He’s awake!” I cried out, dropping the piece of mango I had been sucking ...

... on. The two women stopped their conversation, staring in amazement as the man looked around in confusion, the milky nipple popping out of his mouth as he attempted to sit up. “Whaaa…?” he gurgled thickly, confusion evident in his eyes. He began speaking in his native dialect, first staring at the naked breast in his face, then at Joelle and me. His thrashing dislodged the diaper completely, and Joelle gasped as his huge boner hove into view. God, look at that thing! I thought. It must be close to a foot long! His nakedness unnerved him further, and he attempted to cover himself, panic in his eyes. “Whoa, buddy!” I said to him. ”It’s OK. Calm down, you’re safe. Do you speak English?” “Yes,” he said. “Where am I? What’s going on?” His English was accented but perfectly understandable. “We were in a plane crash. We’re on an island. You’ve been unconscious for days. Gabrielle here,” I motioned to the Frenchwoman, who was putting away her breast, “has been keeping you alive the only way we knew how. Do you remember anything?” His face wrinkled in concentration. “I remember the crash,” he said slowly. “My sister!” A spasm of pain wracked his enormous body. “Oh God, Nene! She’s dead, isn’t she?” Tears ran down his face. “Was that your sister?” Joelle asked, wrapping him a blanket. He clutched the fabric to himself, rocking as he sobbed. “Yes,” he croaked in a broken voice. “She fell out of the emergency door in the night when we crashed. I tried to find her in the water, but I do not ...