The Island, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The dawn was just cracking open the eastern sky when I woke. I’ve always been an early riser, and years of residency only reinforced that tendency. I carefully disentangled myself from Janie’s embrace, and sat back, admiring her sleeping form. My eyes traced the gentle curve of a breast as it met with her ribs. Her taut abs rose and fell with each gentle snore. The thick strip of brown fur on her mound still had dried cum in it from last night, and I smiled as I envisioned her scrubbing it off while preparing for Christopher’s sexual awakening. “You can thank me later, kid,” I murmured to myself as I stretched my naked body in the sun.

After picking out a clean set of clothes for the day, I pulled a stick of deodorant, a bar of soap, and a towel from my suitcase, which I had parked at Janie’s “house” for the duration. Might as well hang on to the trappings of civilization as long as they held out, I thought. I considered a razor as well, but figured I had a good start on a beard after 4 days and that I would grow it out for now. Before leaving, I covered Janie with a towel so other early risers wouldn’t get an eyeful. Scouting the beach, I confirmed everyone was still sleeping, then sprinted naked to the water near the south end of the lagoon.

I dropped my gear above the waterline, then dove cleanly into the azure waves. Swimming the length of the lagoon, I turned and swam back to my clothes. I climbed out of the water feeling much more awake, and grabbed my stuff, climbing over the rocks toward the stream. I strolled nude to the stream, then followed its course into the jungle. After a few feet I came to a small pool, and set my things down on the bank. I rinsed the salt off my body, then scrubbed myself down with soap. The fresh water was much cooler than the ocean, and felt good on my slightly sunburned skin as I sluiced off the lather. I toweled off, then dressed in fresh, clean clothes, feeling mighty fine. Figuring I had a few minutes until my breakfast date with Gabrielle, I decided to follow the creek upstream and see how far it was to what I thought of as Joelle’s pool.

As I walked, I contemplated the issue of Gabrielle. As much as I loved suckling on her milky tits, I wasn’t sure I could commit to it every morning for however long we stayed here. I had just come up with what I thought was a brilliant solution when I heard singing.

Peering through the foliage, I realized I had reached the larger pool I was looking for, just a few hundred yards from the smaller one I had bathed in. The singing was in a language I was not familiar with, and I put down my towel and toiletries in order to creep forward undetected.

My breath escaped in a soft sigh as I caught sight of the singer: I may have discovered the 8th wonder of the world, I thought. Spotlighted by a shaft of sunlight penetrating the dense jungle canopy stood a lovely young woman, just beginning to undress for her own morning bath. She must have awoken just after me, I thought, and figured everyone else was asleep, so might as well have a little me time.

I silently crept down the game trail that ran along the stream, carefully picking my way closer until I knelt down behind a flowering bush not 10 feet from the girl. Now that I was nearer, I recognized Yasmine, one of the cheerleaders. She had removed her blouse, folded it neatly, and placed it on top of her sandals on the rocks adjacent to the water. She was a stunning beauty of perhaps 16 years old, with café-au-lait skin, rich dark curls of hair, now pinned up on top of her head, and entrancing, almond shaped eyes set in a face that would test a monk’s vows. As I watched, she slid her shorts off her long, coltish legs and stood there in a lavender bra and panty set that complemented her tan body, folding the garment and placing it with the rest of her clothes.

I have always had a weakness for women in an unguarded moment. They seemed much more natural and carefree when no one was watching. So much the better if they are naked, too! I guess this made me a full-on voyeur, but a man has to accept his nature.

My young lovely was singing to herself in what sounded like a Middle-Eastern language. I wasn’t sure what country she hailed from, so I didn’t know if it was Arabic, Farsi, Turkish or some other dialect entirely. I didn’t care. She had such a sweet voice she could have been signing in Klingon for all it mattered. My mouth was dry as I watched her reach behind her back to unhook her bra. Thank you God, if you’re up there, for this gift, I thought reverently. I suspected I would remember this for the rest of my life.

Her slender shoulders dipped as the lacy, purple scrap of fabric slid off her chest, revealing succulent teenage breasts perched high on her chest. Her faint tan lines accentuated the dark brown cones of her nipples, which made perfect secondary mounds on the tips of her firm tits, pointing jauntily upward.