Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 14

"I had a stomach ache."

She waved off their concern, saying she was fine.

"Besides," she added, "I wanted to read my book. ... Ezra, will you explain it to me? Most of it makes sense but some things are confusing."

"I'm happy to try but I'll have to read it myself first."

"You haven't read it?"

"No, that's why I brought it. Those books are the ones I chose to read if I ever got marooned on a desert island. That's why I got the big-print solid waterproof copies."

"Can we read it together?"

"I'd like that. Not now, though. I need to check on Yumi."

"The beacon still flashes," Tamar said, helpfully.

"So I see."

With Ezra gone, Tamar followed Megan into her tent.

"Megan, will you help me please?"

"Of course, Sweetie. What is it?"

"My stomach ache. I've had it on and off since yesterday and this morning I got a headache as well."

"Oh! ... Oh, really! You're young to start."

"I'm already fifteen!"

"Yes, but I was sixteen and so was Wildchild: I remember all the rows and damage she caused."

Megan smiled in memory and Tamar smiled back.

"All right, so what have you done?" Megan asked.

Tamar lifted her skirt.

"I took some bandages from Thalassa's medical kit and made this."

It was a sort of thin nappy. There were some red spots.

"Quite good," Megan said, "but you'll find this more useful."

She delved into the bottom of her kit-bag and brought out a soft leather thong with a thick absorbent rectangular central section.

"Do you mind wearing something second-hand, until we can get you your own? It's clean, I promise."

"I don't mind," Tamar said, "but can you spare it?"

"As it happens, I haven't needed it for two months."

Now it was Tamar's turn to be surprised - and happy for Megan.

Megan helped Tamar take off her nappy and put on the thong, adjusting it to fit the skinny girl.

"You'll need to wash it a few times a day. ... I'm sorry your mother's not here. A woman wants to help her daughter at such milestones in her life."

"She'll understand. Thanks for this," she said, wiggling her bottom to show what a comfortable fit it was.

"You'll do, girl," Megan said, patting her bottom, "or should I say 'young woman'?"

Tamar liked the sound of that. She pulled her dress down and skipped off to find Ezra.

He checked the battery levels of Yumi's emergency pod (nearly full after three days of good sunshine) and her vital signs (also good). From the top of the dune, he looked for the raft out at sea. The women had fished all morning and were ready to paddle back to shore for lunch and a rest. He walked down to the beach to wait. When they noticed him, the rafters waved happily.

By the time the raft arrived, Megan and Tamar were also waiting on the beach to help drag the raft onshore. Carrying the catch of fish and sponges to the camp, Ezra and Megan were bombarded with questions: Was it a good journey? What was the Cloner Fair like? Whom did you meet? What did you do there? Can they revive Yumi? What did the chiefs say?

"All right, all right," he said, holding his hands up to stem the tide of enquiries. "Can we wait for Wildchild to return, so we don't have to tell the story twice?"

There was reluctant agreement and the women settled down to gut and prepare the fish and trim the sponges of their stalks.

All except Devon and Thalassa, who walked a distance from the camp for a private discussion. They'd been friends in the days of the Mariner factions, when Devon had resolved to fight the old chief, Belena, to protect Thalassa.

"All right, Thalassa," Devon said, "Tell me your problem."

"It's Ezra. You're his bedmate. You understand him. Why won't he touch me?"

"Have you asked him to?"

"Not explicitly. He knows I'm of age. I told him on the day Belena was banished that I'd be his bedmate. Since then, I've shown him I want sex. I've given him lots of hints."

"There's your problem, Darling. Ezra doesn't respond to hints. Apparently, men are not very subtle. You'll have to be explicit and say what you want. You have to be bold."

"Bold? I can be bold," said the sweet gentle girl, whose habitual patience was proverbial on Samothea. "I've got a plan."

Devon listened to Thalassa's plan.

"That is bold!" she acknowledged, seeing strength of desire overcome a lifetime of placid resignation.

"Will you help me?"

"Yes. I'll tell the others and we'll do it tonight, if they agree. It'll be fun!"

As the salvage party did their chores in the camp, Ezra noticed Dagma rubbing at the neck of her dress. Her shoulders were red. Carlin also looked sunburned. Used only to the diffused sunlight of the forest, the pale-skinned girls had caught the sun badly.

He fetched some of the soft cheese and mixed it with a little nut-oil.

"How did you two get so burned?" he asked them as he rubbed the cheese in his hands to make a paste. "I saw you wearing your sun-hats on the raft. Did you go naked on the beach?"

Carlin nodded.

"We've been learning to swim," Dagma explained. "We're getting quite good but Carlin and I must have caught the sun."

"Here," Ezra said, handing over dollops of the paste. "Use this on the burns. It will smell unpleasantly but it may help to soothe your skin and stop it peeling. ... Come on girls, you can't do it with your clothes on."

Dagma and Carlin stripped and he applied the paste, saying:

"I think you two should stay out of the sun for a while."

They meekly agreed.

A lunch of dry beef and cheese was welcomed by everyone and greedily consumed. Ezra continued to frustrate the women by not saying what happened at the Cloner City, so Kalyndra gave an account of the salvage party during the last three days.

"We began the swimming lessons the day after you left. We go fishing in the mornings and have swimming lessons in the afternoons. We saw marlin but they didn't come close enough to throw a spear at them. ..."

Ezra thought of his projectile gun, safe in the hold of his ship. It had a harpoon attachment that could be used to catch marlin sometime in the future.

"... Wildchild's been visiting the Herders' Mid-Way camp for supplies of dried beef and cheese. ... The spring's muddied up. It's all right for horses but now we leave open water-bladders hanging on the tent-sides to catch night-rain. The sponges were growing on the wreck of your ship. They're as good as the ones we dive for at home. That's all I can think of."

Only Tamar had anything to add. She'd lent out some of his books but there was one that no one could understand, except for a few words. She didn't think it was written in English.

"That'll be Shakespeare's plays," Ezra said and he attempted to explain this necessary component of any desert island book-list. His faltering explanation was mercifully interrupted by Wildchild, who arrived back in the camp having ridden off her bad temper. She'd visited the forest to chop some more wood.

She also had a gift for Tamar: a new thong of pale-grey sheepskin, soft and spongy. Wildchild had guessed Tamar's state and picked up the raw leather at the Herders' Northern Camp on her way back. She still needed to cut it to fit with her hunting knife but Tamar was thrilled and looked guiltily at Megan for obviously preferring her new thong to the second-hand one. Megan dismissed the apology. She was happy for Tamar and pleased Wildchild looked out for her so lovingly. Besides, it was useful to have more than one of the garments.

With all the salvage party assembled, Ezra could no longer refuse the demand to tell the story of their visit to the Cloner City.

"First, I have to tell you that Yumi is pregnant. I'm sorry I didn't say so before."

Now the women were even more keenly interested in Yumi's health.

"Also, I'd like to set the pod to begin reviving Yumi. It may take twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I don't know how long it will be before we can move her, but probably a few days. Does anyone object to staying here another week maybe?"

No one objected.

"Have we enough supplies?"

"More than enough," Kalyndra said. "And someone can ride for more, as necessary."

"Of course; then I'll start the program on the pod."

They all came over to watch as he keyed a few commands into the instrument panel on the side of the pod, checked the read-outs and pressed the big green image of a button.

An orange warning text appeared, saying: 'Are you sure you want to initiate the automatic occupant revival system?'

"Of course I'm bloody sure," Ezra muttered through gritted teeth and pressed the big green button again. A red box appeared with text:

"Revival sequence initiated. Batteries at 98%. Chance of revival: strongly positive. Time elapsed: 00:03."

"That's it," he said. "Now we wait."

It was a simpler and less exciting process than everyone had expected; but they were pleased the chance of revival was strongly positive. Now Ezra told them about the Cloner City, how opulent it was but also how disappointing its store of technology was, especially their medical technology.

As they sat listening to him, the wind began to pick up. Soon dark clouds gathered over the ocean. It was time to start cooking dinner. Wildchild lit the fire with her pen-knife and skewered fish were balanced on sticks over the orange flames. Cooking stones were placed on the logs to heat up a vegetable soup. Potatoes were buried among the logs to bake in the hot ash.

As they cooked, Devon whispered to Kalyndra and then to Cressi. They each glanced at Thalassa and nodded agreement. Devon signalled to Thalassa and the girl tried not to blush. It seemed her bold plan was going ahead.

It was turning toward dusk now and Ezra remembered something.

"I kept another secret. Tamar, will you fetch the box I left in your care, please?"

Some of them had forgotten the curious box but Tamar remembered and brought it from her tent.

"Will you open it for me, please?"

There was a clip on the side and the lid swung open. Inside was a bottle with a mahogany-gold liquid in it and a label that Tamar read out loud:

"The Macallan Highland Single Malt Scotch Whisky - Eighteen Years Old. ... What is it, Ezra?"

"It's an alcoholic drink that I save for special occasions."

He fetched two of the glasses salvaged from his ship.

"What's 'alcoholic'?"

"Alcohol is an ingredient in drink that tingles in the mouth, warms the blood and renders the drinker happy. When taken to excess, it causes mental impairment and nausea. None of you will like it, though you're all welcome to try a sip."

He pulled out the stopper and poured the glasses: a large one for himself and a medium one for the others to try - he wasn't going to waste the precious nectar - and handed it to Kalyndra.

"Sniff first," he said, burying his nose in his own glass and breathing in deeply. Kalyndra was more cautious. She wafted a handful of fumes over her nose from the glass.

"Mmm, pleasant," she said, "but unusual."

"You're smelling toffee, caramel, vanilla, ginger, maybe orange and some spices."

"I don't know half of those smells," she said.

"Now taste. Sip a tiny amount. It's very strong."

She sipped and made a gruesome face.

"It's horrible, it burns!" she exclaimed.

"All right, pass the glass around, so everyone can sniff it, then I'll water it down and you can try tasting it again."

Each woman took a sniff, including Carlin and Tamar. Everyone said they liked the smell. Then he added about a quarter of its volume of water.

Kalyndra took a sip.

"Yuck!" she said and passed on the glass.

Everyone hated the taste except Dagma and Wildchild, who both took second sips.

"Yum!" said Wildchild, finishing the glass and holding it out to him.

"All right," said Ezra, "you can have some more, but watered down."

Wildchild seemed content with that restriction. She sniffed and sipped again in time with him.

"What about me?" Dagma asked, "I like it, too."

"Sorry, Darling," he said, "but no more than a taste for you. It's bad for the baby."

With that, Ezra poured himself another glass and the company settled down to a normal evening of friendly chat as the smell of crisping fish and baking potatoes wafted to keen noses, building appetites.

That night, Ezra got drunk.

When he'd finished his third large glass, having drunk about a quarter of the bottle, his speech was slurred and his eyes were glazed over. Kalyndra tried to take the bottle from him but he cuddled it close, staring vacantly at the glowing red embers of the camp-fire. Eventually he shut his eyes.

When the night-rain started, four of them dragged him into a tent, removed his shoes, stuck a rolled-up blanket under his head and threw a blanket over his curled-up body (the bottle still protected against his chest) and left him to sleep it off.

Kalyndra, Cressi, Thalassa and Devon shared a tent.

"I'm sorry we couldn't enact your plan tonight," Devon said to Thalassa. "It did rather depend on Ezra being sober and active."

"No matter," said the wise girl. "There will be other nights."

"I'd take that bottle away from him and hide it," Devon suggested.

"No, that's unfair," Kalyndra said. "He's left so much behind on Earth. Let him enjoy it for now."

"It was horrible stuff," said Cressi. "I don't know how he could enjoy it."

No one disputed that judgment.

"We can put the time to good use," Devon said. "We can prepare Thalassa for what's to come. We can teach her how to kiss."

"Good idea," said Cressi, rolling on her side to face Thalassa. "Me first!"

She pulled the thin dark girl to her and pressed their lips together. Thalassa had never been kissed sexually before but she responded with pleasure, liking all kinds of affection and keen to learn.

They took turns to embrace her but went no further than kissing, though there was tingling excitement for the eighteen-year-old as warm naked bodies pressed together, breasts rubbing against breasts, hands in her hair or stroking her back.

When they judged Thalassa had got the hang of it, the Mariner women described sex with Ezra as best they could. Then they went quietly to sleep; but Thalassa was restless. She was trembling with anticipation. It took all her reserves of wise restraint and patience to calm herself enough to sleep.

***

Next morning, Ezra had a headache. Daylight pierced his brain. Noise made his head throb. Stiff joints made moving painful. He was in a bad way. He wanted to crawl into a grave and die.

Dagma was the most sympathetic and stayed in the camp to watch over him. Five months pregnant, it suited her to have an easy day once in a while. She washed off yesterday's cream-cheese and applied more. Then she sat in the entrance of her tent, out of the sun's rays, waiting for him to wake up.

"Good morning!" she called breezily, as he raised the tent-flap.

"Oh, God! Not so loud, please!" he protested, blinking and shielding his eyes from the painful daylight.

"Sorry," Dagma whispered. "What can I get you for breakfast?"

The thought of breakfast made him queasy.

"Just water, please, and lots of it."

Dagma fetched him a bladder of water. He drank the whole skin without stopping and began to feel better. His headache passed quickly. His only regret was he now had to go and empty his own bladder.

When he was back, he lay in the tent and felt delicate until, an hour later, Dagma persuaded him to eat something. He chewed dry beef therapeutically and slowly began to feel human again.

"Where's everyone?" he asked.

"Fishing as usual, then swimming lessons," Dagma said.

"Have you looked at Yumi's pod?"

"I'll go and see now."

"It's time I was up. I'll come with you."

Yumi's pod now read: "Batteries 80% (though this was climbing in the daylight). Chance of revival: strongly positive. Time elapsed: 18:33."

All seemed stable. He was pleased and decided he'd recovered enough to go and watch the swimming lessons. Dagma put a cloak over her shoulders and went with him to the beach.

The Mariners were teaching the girls how to dive from the raft, and Megan was having her first swimming lesson with Cressi, away from the others, nearer the shore.

The girls on the raft waved at Ezra. Tamar said "Look at me dive!" and made a good effort. Carlin held her nose and screamed as she jumped in. Wildchild performed as perfect a dive as any of the Mariners. Of course, he'd long ceased being surprised by Wildchild. He expected her to be a natural - just as Cressi was the first time - and she proved him right by swimming front crawl with a smoothly powerful and even stroke.

Though Dagma sat on the beach, protected from the sun, Carlin seemed to have recovered: the angry red patches on her shoulders, back and thighs clearly didn't hurt her. It seemed that she was one of those lucky pale-skinned people who goes bright red and then tans and doesn't peel.

He was pleased to see that Megan progressed in her lesson just as well as a keen and co-ordinated athlete ought.

"You don't have to sit here and keep me company, Ezra, not if you've got something better to do."

"I feel I've neglected you in the last week."

"Don't be daft man! You've been busy with your other bedmates and I'm not the jealous type."

"Even so, I like your company - and your bed - just as much as any other of my bedmates."

She liked that answer. She even believed it. They had a pleasantly relaxed afternoon watching the others swim and dive.

***

There was the usual chatter around the camp-fire that evening, though there was nothing new to say, except that Ezra had checked Yumi's progress and everything looked good.

Cressi sat next to him, put her arms around him and said:

"It's been a week. It's my turn now."

She looked up at him with her kitten eyes, daring him to deny her.

"Of course it is. I've been looking forward to it, but aren't you sharing a tent?"

"We've moved around a bit," Kalyndra said.

When it got dark, Cressi led him to her tent and sexually assaulted him. She jumped on him and kissed him wildly, trying to pull off his clothes, getting them tangled, using her claws on his bare flesh.

"Ow! Control yourself, woman!"

"Not likely! I've waited two months for this."

She leapt at him again, pushing him onto his back and kneeling over him.

Scrambling to take off their clothes, eventually they got naked and Cressi calmed down a little. She sat in his lap while he sucked her sweet small tits, gentle fingers toying with her pussy. She moaned her approval. After some time, he span her around and she lay on him in the sixty-nine position, gobbling on his cock as he licked and fingered her tight pussy.

There was a swish of the tent flap and a waft of cold air. Kalyndra and Devon came into the tent and quickly undressed. They knelt beside Ezra and Devon began to fondle Cressi's bottom, kissing the outside of her thigh. Kalyndra knelt between Ezra's legs. She stroked Cressi's hair, then she lay down further and put her lips to Ezra's balls.

"Who's that? " he asked. "Cressi, who's here with us?"

"It's Kali and me," said Devon. "Cressi's happy to share."

"Really? That doesn't sound like Cressi," he said. The soft wet mouth on his cock remained in place, but Cressi gave a non-sexual moan because he was neglecting her pussy.

"Very well, if you insist."

He returned to licking her clitoris, pushing an exploring finger into her slit. After a few minutes of this, Cressi was really turned on and bucking involuntarily. Ezra was working hard to maintain himself, massively aroused by Cressi's keen sucking and Kalyndra's soft mouth licking and sucking his balls.

He felt Devon next to him and reached out to touch her. He caressed a tit and felt the nipple slowly harden. She lay back and raised her knees, pushing her bottom toward him. He accepted the invitation and began to fondle her pussy, making her moan, her noise adding to the moans of Cressi and the erotic humming of Kalyndra.