The Island, Chapter 38

Chapter 38

As it was still early in the evening, we decided to go for a swim and head back to camp, to sleep in the relative comfort of familiar surroundings. I horsed around in the water a little with the girls, making the most of swimming naked with two hot chicks, but honestly after the day I had had, even my hyperdriven libido had reached its limit, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fuck anything for many hours, possibly days.

We dressed again, the girls this time in regular clothes, not the uniforms they had sported earlier, and walked back to the main beach. A few fires were burning as groups of people talked into the night, relaxing before bed.

Janie and I joined Jared at our campsite, and we began drifting off to sleep immediately. I did notice, however, before falling asleep, that Joelle and Dkembe were still missing. I smiled as I imagined what they were getting up to, and my consciousness faded into blackness with that happy thought to seed my dreams.



We were in for a rude awakening the next morning. I was dreaming I was swimming, and Jared was splashing me in the face repeatedly. I was getting kind of irked, and kept asking him to stop. I think my vocalizations finally woke myself up, and I looked around blearily. When the water kept hitting me in the face, I realized it was raining, and the wind was blowing droplets and spray in my face. All over the beach, people were groaning and muttering as they woke, bedraggled and damp, shifting around and covering items so they wouldn’t get wet. The rain lasted for about 20 more minutes, then finally petered out.

As the sun began to heat up the beach, folks began emerging from their shelters and stretching. Our pile of fruit was decimated by hungry breakfasters, and several more eggs were found in the chicken coops. I cadged one from Anne, who had collected some for her girls. She gave it up with a small kiss and a wink, and I quickly had it poached in a bucket of boiling water, and shared it out with Janie and Jared. Each of us only got a couple of bites, but it added a little variety to our diets and was much appreciated.

Morning chores were shared out amongst the castaways, and as we finished, I spied Joelle and Dkembe sneaking back into camp. They looked disheveled and wet, but quite pleased with themselves. I vowed I would get my naughty nurse to tell all by nightfall.

Doing a quick tour of the beach I encountered Gabrielle by the pig pen, sitting against a tree with a towel draped over her shoulder. As she wasn’t usually shy about her duties as a wet nurse the sight made me stop for a moment.

“Allo Dave!” she said with a smile. “Bon matin.”

“Bon matin, Gabrielle. Comment allez-vous?”

“Bien, mon ami. But you should not use ze formal vous wiz me. I think we are much more intimate friends, non?”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” I said with a grin, sitting next to her in the shade. “What’s going on under there?” I said, gesturing to the towel.

She lowered it, showing Wilbur’s rotund pink form suckling ecstatically at her left breast. Drops of milk were leaking from the right one in sympathy. I thought for a moment of grabbing a quick snack myself, but realized the little porker needed it more than me. Even after having seen this before, the tableau of a piglet nursing on a woman’s tit was pretty surreal. I’m not sure if I would describe it as erotic, but the other bare breast, and the memories of breakfasts past that it brought me, certainly were.

“’E gets fatter every day. I think ‘e will be able to eat some food soon.” She gave me a penetrating glance. “I will be glad, since I more enjoy people on le sein—the breast—than this cochon. He is not able to provide the service extra that you give me, Dave.” With that she batted her long eyelashes at me coquettishly, making my dick stand up and take notice instantly.

“Well, since you are providing an invaluable service to our community helping Wilbur like this, maybe I can give you a hand, so to speak.”

She positively glowed with delight. “Alors, what do you ‘ave in mind? We are in a place publique, n’est pas? What can we do wizout disturbing ze others?”

“We have this towel, don’t we?”

I laid down next to her, just another beach dweller relaxing in the shade. I positioned myself so that my arm was under her bent knees, and pulled the towel over so that it hung off the side of her lap, shielding my upper body from onlookers. In my little tent, it became apparent that she was going commando under her loose sundress, so I would have no trouble performing a little amateur gynecology this fine morning.

I allowed my eyes to adjust in the dim light, the better to see her gorgeous Gallic gash. Her full bush blossomed out from between her smooth, pale thighs like a dark bouquet. Her fragrance was more enticing than any dozen roses, however, and it was rapidly getting stronger as she anticipated some illicit stimulation. I indulged myself in some relaxed caresses along the backs of her quivering legs, then slowly worked my way to that dense thicket of hair. Combing my fingers through the curls, I marveled at the wondrous design of the female genitals. They were so perfectly suited for enjoyment, and so beautiful to behold. Her sighs of contentment as I gently massaged her soft, plump outer lips spurred me on, and soon I was running my lucky fingers along her slick inner labia happily. I traced curlicues along the tender pink folds, enjoying a leisurely expedition through her erotic jungle.

Gaby was obviously savoring the moment, and little shudders racked her slender form as the twin foci of pleasure—my hand at her pussy and Wilbur at her breast—sent shockwaves of delight caroming through her nervous system.

“Mon Dieu, I love to feel you touch me, Dave!” she groaned. “Have mercy on me while I change le porcelet to the other side. Her body wiggled as she adjusted the squirming animal so he could start in on the right teat. I took advantage of the break to lick her tangy nectar off of my fingers, then started in again on her cunt as she settled back down, my mouth now bursting with her succulent flavor.

I gave her oozing crack a deep Swedish massage of sorts, pressing heavily on the buried nerve endings of the hidden depths of her clitoris, and occasionally tickling the protruding and by now ultra-sensitive glans itself just to keep her on her toes. Once she was well and truly juiced up and panting, I began plumbing her depths with my extended fingers.

With first one, then two questing digits, I fondled the warm, ribbed tunnel of her young vagina. Applying some serious elbow grease and I must say, true professional dedication, I was soon buried so deep in her twat I could feel her cervix. I wobbled it back and forth a few times playfully, just to see what would happen.

“Jésus Christ!“ she hissed, jumping slightly. “You wish to make me crazy?”

“Absolument!” I murmured with an evil chuckle. Her breathing was now deep and ragged, punctuated by intermittent twitches as gasps as my moving fingers traced a complex pattern within her warm, receptive core. I was feeling so in tune with her, I knew by my awareness of her quickening pulse, the cute little catches in her respiration, and her freely flowing secretions just what delicate parts of her anatomy needed touching next, and how to best escalate the sweet torture to ever so slowly ramp up her pleasure to an absolute peak.

I had just begun vigorously thrusting my fingers into her, gently but persistently rubbing the spongy mass of her G-spot, when I sensed movement outside of my little hideout, which by now smelled like a private screening of Fifty Shades of Grey at a bachelorette party.

“Hi, Gabrielle!”

“Hi!”

I recognized the piping voices of Morgan and Mackenzie, come to say good morning to their favorite French teacher.

Gabrielle was barely able to croak out a “hello,” her body writhing in place discreetly as I worked over her cooze passionately. I couldn’t tell from where I was, but I suspected the towel must have fallen off of her chest in the throes of her squirming around, because Morgan said, “Are you feeding Wilbur?”

“Oui,” my sweet young victim rasped tersely, trying to maintain her decorum as her pussy was pleasured surreptitiously right in front of these two innocent youngsters. Another shudder wracked her body as I added a little thumb massage to her clitoris on top of the vaginal pounding I was already giving her.

“Is Dave sleeping?” Mackenzie asked in a stage whisper.

“I sink zo,” wheezed the frantic Frenchwoman. I could feel spasms wracking her tight tunnel as she approached climax, and gave no quarter, continuing my digital assault on her femininity. Little grunts kept erupting from her, and the girls must have thought the sounds a bit odd, for they began interrogating her.

“Does it feel good to breastfeed? Is that why you keep jumping?” Mackenzie asked curiously. “I always wondered. I was holding my baby niece a few months ago and she started sucking on my booby through my shirt and it kind of tickled. But it made me wonder what it was like for real.”

“It feels très…UUUUNH …très bon to nurse un bébé,” she quavered, her strangled words interrupted as another seismic tremor shook her fuckable faultline.

“It looks funny to see a piggy sucking on you!” said Morgan with a laugh. “He really likes it.”

‘OUIIII!,” Gaby moaned, losing control of herself momentarily, her body shuddering.

“I guess you like it, too,” the little girl said thoughtfully, noting the undoubtedly focused expression on the woman’s face as her orgasm loomed closer.

“Morgan, let’s leave her alone. She’s busy,” I heard Mackenzie say. I wasn’t sure if the older girl was taking things at face value, or if she had some inkling of what was going on under the towel, but either way it worked in our favor, as the two girls strolled off. Morgan giving a parting

“Bye! We’ll see you in class!”

“Au revOOOIIIR!” Gabrielle wailed, shaking violently, the hand that was not holding Wilbur now painfully twisting my shirt as her release was finally upon her.

“Fuck!” she screeched in a high breathy voice, and her tender tunnel began gripping my fingers like a rubbery vise, a torrent of juice flowing out of her in warm spurts.

“Ah, merde! Doux Christ!” she sobbed, twitching like a palsied crone, now drenched in sweat. Wilbur began grunting in agitation as his feeding was disturbed, and he abruptly slid to the ground and started tearing around the tree as Gabrielle dropped him in the throes of her violent coming.

“Arrêtez, s’il vous plait!” she begged, her flailing hand latching on to my arm and forcibly extracting it from her drooling cunt. “Stop or I shall die!”

I sucked on my slime-coated fingers happily as I finally allowed her to come down off the precipice of her orgasmic peak.