It Started On Skull Island – Chapter 1

It Started On Skull Island – Chapter 1

It had all started out innocently enough; four friends out for an afternoon of sailing on Sparrow Lake. But it ended up as a disaster.

Brian Whatcom and Ted Campbell had always competed with each other, from the time they first met at age ten. Marsha Middleton, on the other hand, enjoyed more academic pursuits. She always got good marks in math and sciences. The domestics were the dominion of her best friend, Denise McCurdy. Poor Dennie couldn’t add two and two to save her soul, but give her a piece of fabric, and she’d turn out a designer-quality garment. Armed with basic ingredients, she could create a gourmet menu item. Show her a word processor, and she’d write a complete novel.

Brian and Marsha had been assigned to each other as part of a school study mentoring program. Marsha tutored Brian in all the academic subjects, while he tried to help her understand the workings of the real world. It had been a frustrating endeavour for both of them, but they had discovered mutual interests, and the two had become close friends during the school year.

Ted had met Denise when she volunteered to create and sew the football team’s uniforms. It was Denise that had created the designs, and orchestrated several sewing and fitting sessions. Eventually, the two teens had become a couple, as well.

Now that summer was here, the boys had invited the girls for an afternoon sail on the lake. Marsha understood the principles of sailing, but Brian gloated that any dummy could sail, in his opinion. He had a bet with Ted that Marsha would be skippering by the end of the day. He was also looking forward to spending time with her. There was just something about the girl that he couldn’t resist.

Ted and Denise accepted the challenge of watching Marsha’s attempts at seamanship. Denise envisioned an afternoon of leisurely cruising. She had accepted Ted’s invitation immediately, both because it would allow them to be together, and because she was curious about how Marsha would fair as a sailor
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The skies were clear blue as the boys launched their boats. At fourteen feet long, the craft were just big enough to accommodate two people comfortably, yet small enough to be highly manoeuvrable in tight quarters, designed for light winds, yet capable of handling most weather conditions. Neither boy had decided on a particular destination, resulting in an instant competition to see which one could reach a given point first. Brian had suggested a race to Cormorant Island, and the first to round the channel buoy would also pick the next leg’s marker.

It was Ted and Denise that arrived at the buoy first, but only by a little over a boat length. By the volume of their cheering, you’d have thought they’d won the America’s Cup. Denise hugged her skipper joyously to celebrate their win, and Ted had returned her embrace with a quick kiss. Their feelings were of wanting more, but not knowing how to ask.

Brian and Marsha hugged each other in consolation, commiserating their loss by offering each other a shoulder to lean on. Even though their hug lasted much longer than necessary, neither teen was in any rush to let go. But there would be other opportunities to mourn their loss or celebrate their victory, as soon as Ted named their next marker.

“How about we race for Skull Island?” Ted ventured. “But let’s make this a little more interesting. The winner will be the first one to land on the west side of the island, beach their boat, and erect a flagpole on the northwest bluff.” Brian thought his friend had made the challenge more difficult than necessary. The bluff was solid rock. Planting a pole could prove difficult and maybe impossible. From where they were, it was a good fifteen mile trip. At Ted’s signal, they were off.

Half-way between the two points, the sky darkened and the winds increased. The waves were getting higher, and both girls began to feel panic as their skippers fought to keep the small craft under control. Both boys considered abandoning the contest and heading for a safe harbour, but from here, there wasn’t one. They were within sight of Skull Island’s beachhead when a strong gust swept in, almost overturning Brian’s boat, snapping the mast. The broken spar flew with the wind, ripping Ted’s sail and rendering it virtually useless. Without sails, both craft were at the mercy of the lake. Brian’s boat finally capsized, while Ted’s boat began to take on water, leaving him and Denise swamped.

Clambering onto the overturned hull, Brian and Marsha hung on for dear life, both of them feeling the cold draining the energy from their bodies. Ted and Denise attempted to bail his boat enough to remain afloat, with only limited success. Ted had the idea of trying to swim to Skull Island, then realized that while he had a chance, neither Marsha nor Denise were strong enough swimmers to cover the distance.

Brian slipped off the hull, coming up underneath the overturned craft, and retrieved three life jackets. Returning from under the hull, he passed one to Marsha, donned one himself, then set off to cover the distance between the two boats. When he arrived, he gave the last life preserver to Denise.

“Ted, you should have more jackets on board, right?” he asked his friend. “Any idea where you stowed it?”

“Should be in the locker just fore of the mast” Ted directed. “That hatch can be a bitch to open, though. Here. Let me get it.”

“No, you stay there” Brian insisted. “I’ll go. If I run into trouble, I’m gonna need you to rescue my ass. Besides, there’s no sense both of us freezing our butts off.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he propelled himself over the gunwale. He managed to dig out the life preservers, and passed them back to Ted. A large wave smacked into the water-filled boat, throwing its occupants into the cold lake water.

Ted came to the surface within a foot of the jacket, and struggled to put it on. Brian, in the meantime, had gone to Denise’s rescue, assisting her as she fought to put on her life jacket. Once the two were fitted with the flotation devices, he struck out to his own boat, and back to Marsha. Now with their life jackets on, their chances of making it to the island had improved, if the cold didn’t get them first.

“Come on! We’ll have to swim for it!” Brian yelled. Turning to look for Marsha, he could see real fear on her face. “You two get started. I’ll stay with Marsha, but keep each other in sight at all times. This squall isn’t gonna let up any time soon, and if we lose track of one another, we’ll be in deep shit!” With that, he covered the distance to his disabled craft, persuaded Marsha to slide off the hull, then both of them set off for the relative safety of dry land.

Brian estimated the distance to be about a mile, and he knew that with wet clothing, it would be a difficult journey. While they might need something to keep warm later, right now the garments were more of a liability than anything else. He removed his pants, shirt, and jacket, suggesting to Marsha that she do the same. As Marsha stripped down to her bra and panties, Brian couldn’t help but admire her slim, trim, young body. At five foot six, and one hundred and five pounds, she looked absolutely gorgeous, in his eyes, and her 34C breasts filled her bra nicely.

“Here, pass me your clothes” Brian suggested. “I’ll tie them up and stuff them into a life jacket, so we’ll have something to wear later.” He bundled their garments and found a way to tie them together.

“Brian, I’m freezing!” Marsha complained. “This water’s cold!”

“Swim, Girl” Brian commanded. “The exercise will help you get warm, and besides, that island isn’t gonna come to us. I’m right behind you. Now go!”

Ted had taken similar actions, encouraging Denise to remove much of her clothing. She struggled to remove her jeans, which were almost skin tight, then gave up in frustration.

“I can’t get these things off, Ted! And I’m keeping my shirt, too. I didn’t wear a bra, and, well . . .” Her excuse trailed off. Ted was quite well aware of her lack of a bra, and under normal circumstances, would have enjoyed the view of Denise’s 36B breasts. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and the fabric of her shirt would wick up water, adding weight that Denise’s muscles would have a hard time handling.

“Dennie, the shirt’s gotta go!” he declared. “It’s a really great-looking shirt, but it’ll get too heavy with the water. If you don’t get rid of it, there’s a chance you might drown. Is a little modesty worth the chance? Besides, who’s gonna see your boobs, other than me, and maybe Brian? It’s not like we haven’t seen a girl’s chest before.”

Peeling the soaked shirt off, Denise tried unsuccessfully to cover herself up while still treading water. Realizing the absurdity of it, she gave up, returning to her struggle with the tight jeans. Ted saw her frustration, and offered to help, receiving a cold stare for his trouble.

“Dennie, we’re talking survival here. Forget the modesty, okay? Hell, I’m down to just a pair of briefs, and you don’t see me fighting to cover myself up, do you? Now let’s get those jeans off, before you drown! If you need help, swallow your damned pride!” Ted instructed. Denise gave him a pleading look, and he swam over to assist her. Despite her earlier discomfort, Denise was thankful for her boyfriend’s help . . . until she felt her panties sliding over her hips with her jeans.

“Ted!” she hollered, “Stop ! My butt’s cold enough without you pulling all my clothes off! Now smarten up, would you?” Ted almost ignored her, but stopped long enough to disentangle the two garments and give Denise time to pull her panties back up. Her lightly-covered pussy, however, had been right in front of his eyes, and the sight wasn’t lost on him, or his manhood.

“Sorry, Dennie” Ted apologized, keeping his voice down, hoping they were the only two who knew of the incident. “You sure are pretty, even down there. In spite of the cold, however, I think I have a problem now” he confessed, and felt his face warming. Denise took a minute to figure out what he was talking about, then giggled in amusement. “Oh shut up!” Ted growled. “You’re not the one with a hard-on!”

Marsha’s giggles could be heard over the wind. Brian loudly suggested to his buddy that he might want to keep the news quiet, as his voice had carried with the wind. Ted snarled at Brian’s comment, and began to swim towards land, calling back to the others that they’d better join him before everyone got too cold.

It took the better part of an hour to swim to the beach. Both girls were exhausted, and even the boys felt tired. The distance covered wasn’t the problem so much as the struggle to fight the wind-driven current and the cold. Crawling onto the beach and into the shelter of the island’s trees, all four teens passed out from exertion.

By the time Brian woke several hours later, the winds had died down. By the angle of the sun, he estimated that it was between five and six o’clock. Their chances of being rescued tonight weren’t high, meaning that they’d have to build a shelter before sunset. Shaking Ted awake, he told the other boy of his conclusions.

“Come on, Ted,” he spoke softly, so as not to wake the girls, “we’re gonna have to figure out some kind of shelter, and maybe think about a fire for warmth. I’ve got our clothes spread out to dry, but I don’t think they’ll be ready before the sun goes down. We’re not out of the woods yet, Buddy.”

“Shit, how are we supposed to keep the girls from getting cold?” Ted inquired.

“Oh, there are ways . . !” Brian replied, a twinkle in his eye, and a smirk on his face. Ted understood what his pal was trying to say, and grinned at the idea.

While the girls slept, the boys scrounged materials to build and construct a shelter. Each time they looked, both girls were laying face up, Marsha wearing just her bra and panties, and Denise still without anything covering her chest. The sight definitely slowed down completion, yet neither boy had the heart to wake the girls. It wasn’t until they were almost finished that Marsha and Denise finally woke. Brian had to chuckle to himself, wondering if they had slept through all the construction on purpose.

“Good timing,” he welcomed Marsha, “because we’re just about finished.