Shipwrecked

He was breeding me, making sure that he was deep inside me when he ejaculated. Did he not understand that he could not impregnate me? That this wasn't a mating dance of natural procreation?

Any of the time he was sleeping, I might have made a break for it. I don't know if I didn't try it because he surely would have caught me and punished me or if I didn't want to leave him.

The trust broadened on the fifth and sixth days. On the fifth day, he took me down the ladder to the ground and we foraged together, him showing me what to put in the crudely woven basket and what not to. Then, when night fell, he fucked me on my pallet, we slept, he fucked me again, we slept, and he fucked me a third time. Exhausted, I slept late into the morning. He didn't. He did the same on the sixth day, taking me down to the ground in the early afternoon and standing off as I foraged for myself, showed him what I'd found, absorbed what I could from what he kept and what he tossed away, and then he let me go up the rope ladder myself to be assured that I could handle it alone.

Late that afternoon we were on the main platform when we heard the helicopter again. Big looked wildly about him, first trying to locate where the sound was coming from and then to see where I'd gone. He smiled when he saw that I had shrunk close to the tree trunk, under a branch heavy with leaves, and was looking up into the sky but not making a sound.

When the helicopter was gone, he came for me. His loincloth was off and he was in massive erection. He put me on all fours on the main platform, covered and mounted me, and fucked me like there was no tomorrow—like he knew and appreciated that I might be torn from him at any moment. He fucked me so long and hard that I thought he would not be able to do so in the night, but he did, three times again. And I can't say that I didn't love it. That night we remained fused, his cock never pulling out of me. We were a mated couple, whether or not he believed this would lead to procreation.

On the seventh day, Big sent me down the ladder on my own, while he crouched on his haunches at the top looking like he wasn't at all sure this was a good idea. Feeling a bit of freedom after so many days of being under the black giant's watchful eyes, I struck out in a different direction than we had taken the previous two days in my foraging expedition.

After a bit, I found that I was close to the ocean. I came close enough to the tree line above the beach to see that I was in the same spot where the yacht had shipwrecked. It was out there, on an outcropping of rocks. It was apparently that Philippe had been so taken with getting his cock inside a ripe young virgin's body that he hadn't taken proper precautions on how far off shore the yacht was sailing and he'd put it on the rocks.

There was another ship out there, though—a larger one. And there was a smaller boat pulled up onto the sands, and a group of men standing in a circle. One of them had a map and the men were looking at that and then in the directions in which he was pointing. One of the men was the yacht captain, Philippe. I sighed a sigh of relief. So, he had made it off the yacht alive. So, probably, had all the rest. That probably was why they were here so quickly to look for me. There must have been enough evidence left that I'd gotten to the beach when they'd gotten here to have hope that I was still nearby, somewhere in the jungle.

I hesitated for a moment when the men started fanning out, calling out to each other in French—and calling to me by my name too. But I hesitated only for a moment. I turned and moved as swiftly as the dense jungle permitted me, back to the platforms in the sky. Big was on the rope ladder to the ground, about a third of the way down. He had heard the men calling too. When he saw me, he stopped and gave me a confused look. I waved for him to go up the ladder again, putting my hands on the ropes at the bottom and my foot on the first rope rung.

Understanding—and trusting—he nodded and went up the rope. When I got to the top, he pulled the rope up and hustled me up the series of platforms to the very top one, where he went down on his haunches and pulled my body into his, holding me close. He had a hand tightly over my mouth, but when I gently pulled on it and looked into his eyes with mine, he released me and then gave a great sigh when I didn't call out to the men on the ground.

He was hugely erect, his cock running up the small of my back as we huddled there. But he didn't do anything about it until dark, when we hadn't heard anything from the rescue party for more than two hours and when everything was still in the jungle except for the sounds of the jungle that belonged there. One of those sounds was Big breathing heavily, though. Feeling safe now, he gave vent to his raging hard, laying me out on the deck of the wood platform, covering my body, and fucking the shit out of me. After he'd had an athletic go at me, I rolled over on top of him, straddled his pelvis and rode his cock. He fucked me and I fucked him back. His cock was inside me all night.

That night, once again it was him fucking me, the two of us sleeping, him waking me up fucking me, the two of us dozing, and him fucking me into the lightening of the sky above us through the foliage of the tall trees.

I woke in the morning, my legs spread and bent, my hole gaping open, cum dribbling out of my anus, feeling totally open and vulnerable and exhausted, but gloriously fucked and fully satiated. My passage was gaping open, ready to take him any time he wanted to be inside me. I heard contented humming coming up from the main platform below. In the light of day I realized I had made my decision. I was staying.