Micah's Island (5 page)

“Nuh uh, buster, no way!  This is the
part where you get lost!” I said firmly, struggling to roll over, determined to
keep a good grip on myself. He sat up, eyes wide.  He ran his fingertips over
my lips and throat, as if he couldn’t believe I’d made that noise.

I began to get the feeling that all was
not as it seemed.

He had his hands wrapped rather tightly
around my throat, waiting for me to talk again.  I decided it would be wise to
stay silent. He soon turned his attention back to my other end.

 He was strong, and I couldn’t stop him.
Prying my hands away from my mons, he held both of my wrists in one hand and
flattened my hips back down on the path with the other. 

He was oh-so gentle as he traced across
the curls between my legs, fingering the softness of my labia.  He probed
between them, lightly caressing, using my wetness to explore me deeply and
thoroughly.  I stopped breathing, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his
face. 

He sat back again. His nostrils flared
as he raised the finger he’d used to probe me to his nose, catching the scent
of me. Then he shocked the hell out of me by flicking his tongue out and
running it over the tip of his finger.  I just about had an orgasm right there
on the path.

He seemed confused. He put both hands on
the mounds of my breasts, then flattened his hands to his own chest.  He
fingered me lightly again, then wrapped a strong hand around his own
considerable, very hard cock, as though measuring our differences.  His eyes
caught mine, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

He had no idea what I was.  He didn’t seem
to know that his boy parts would fit very snuggly into my girl parts.  Judging
from the look on his face, he’d never—not once in his life—seen a grown woman. 
His body had instinctively reacted to me (Don’t they say a cock has a mind of
its own?), but he had no clue what to do with me otherwise.

It was a hard notion to swallow, but it
gave me a measure of courage. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.  He was just
curious.  I relaxed on the path and let him continue his examination.  He even
rolled me over and, without intent, gave me what I considered to be a very good
back and butt massage.

He finally stood up, reached down for my
hand, and pulled me to my feet.  He held me tightly by one wrist; I think he
was afraid I’d try to run again, and he didn’t want to lose me.  To be honest,
I didn’t want to lose him either.  Maybe we could collaborate on the food
issue.  I was already tired of papayas.

Tugging on my wrist, he dragged me off
down the path back to the hut.

Without someone to tell me what had actually
happened, I pieced the events together as best I could.

As near as I could tell, we’d had
another one of those weird storms with heavy rain, but I’d been sleeping so
soundly that none of it registered.

Jungle Man must have seen me touring the
island. I didn’t see him. I’d been looking for buildings, people, roads, signs
of civilization.  I would’ve totally missed a footprint in the sand.

He’d evidently watched me bed down for
the night.  When the storm blew up, I think he must have snatched me out from
under the foliage and carried me to the covered hut for shelter.  That would certainly
explain the strange dream I had, which hadn’t been a dream at all.

Anyway, I thought it was awfully sweet
of him to do that for me. 

The hut he’d put me in was the entrance to
a very elaborate series of decks, built out over a jumble of rocks like the
ones by the falls.  There were several levels, made of various types of wood
and some palm tree trunks, bound together with braided palm fronds and an
occasional length of rope.  In one corner of the lowest deck, he’d built a
palm-covered arbor.  A braided hammock hung between the supports.

“Did you build this?” I asked. I was
impressed.

He turned to me and put his hands on my
throat and mouth again, a look of absolute bewilderment on his face.

“Can’t you speak?”

He just pressed his hand tighter against
my throat, his eyes wide as they searched mine. He looked like a deer caught in
the headlights.

I wondered if he
could
speak. He
really didn’t need to; there didn’t seem to be anyone else on this island to
talk to.  We’d have to work on that.  I gently removed the hand from my neck
and made my way down onto the lower deck.

It was clear that he used debris that
washed up on shore to build a lot of the decking.  There were large and small
planks in various stages of rot, bare wood, some painted and varnished boards. 
There were quite a few wrecked boats represented in the home he’d built for
himself.

I knew he wouldn’t answer me, but I
turned to him and asked: “How did you get here?” 

The poor thing still looked stunned,
even a little traumatized.  I went to him and took his hand. He jumped a foot
at my touch.

“Do you have food?” I asked.  He just
stared, blinking, his mouth slightly open.

I made the motions that any human would
make when they were eating: opening my mouth, pretending to put something in,
and chewing.  That triggered a response.

He gripped my upper arm with excitement
and pulled me down to the lower deck, near the covered arbor.  He had a
veritable cornucopia of island fruit stored here, from bananas to coconuts.

“Excellent!” I said enthusiastically. 

He forcibly sat me down on the deck,
broke several bananas off the clump, and handed them to me.

He sat down across from me and watched
me intently as I peeled one.  Now I know how the gorillas in the zoo feel. He
didn’t take his eyes off me for a second, which made a little uncomfortable.

I peeled a banana and handed it to him.
He took it tentatively, still not taking his eyes from me. 

I kept talking to him, asking him
questions, though I knew I wouldn’t get a response.  I didn’t know what else to
do.  We needed to communicate, but I hadn’t heard him make any sound louder
than breathing.  Not even a grunt. Even Tarzan did that.

I took a deep breath and let it out
slowly through my nostrils as I ate.  My life had suddenly taken a hard left
into fascinating.

~***~

I was thirsty.  I didn’t think I needed
to ask permission to get a drink (not that he would’ve understood me anyway). I
got up with the intention of walking to the freshwater falls, but he jumped to
his feet and blocked me.

I stared at the center of his chest
before I lifted my eyes to his.  He had a look of fierce determination on his
face. I was a little scared.

“It’s okay. I’m not leaving. I just want
to get a drink.  Don’t you?” I made motions like I was drinking out of a glass,
and then it occurred to me that maybe he’d never
seen
a glass.

I cupped my hands together and tipped
them to my mouth.  The light of comprehension came on in his eyes.  He took my
hand, pulled me up the deck, and off we went to get a drink.

~***~

He walked slightly ahead of me as he
pulled me along by the hand. All of him was gorgeous, but he had a particularly
fetching little man butt.  Round and solid, with dimples on the side.

I tore my eyes away from his ass and
blew out a breath.  I was a healthy young woman with raging hormones. I have
always been an intrinsically sexual being.

How long would I last hanging out with
this beautiful, naked man? How long would it be before I caved and
really
gave him a lesson in our differences?

He was a sexual Pandora’s Box.  Should I
open it?  Or would I regret it?

I shook my head.  It was far too early
in our relationship to think about sex. I didn’t even know his name. If he had
one.

For the first time, I thought about
Tiago. I had no family on the island but Calvin, and he didn’t care what
happened to me.  Surely Rico or someone would miss me.

Would anyone come looking for me?  Or
would I live out my life on this island with the strong, silent type?

Curiously, the thought of living out my
days here with him didn’t cause me any anxiety.  He was eye-candy deluxe, and
he’d been very kind so far.  There are worse ways to spend your life, right?

I resolved not to think about it just as
we arrived at the freshwater pool.

I’ve never had so much fun on a date. Not
ever.

We got our drinks and then frolicked
like children in the pool.  I even heard him laugh a little, which made me
laugh in response. If he couldn’t speak, at least he could make sounds.  It lifted
my spirits considerably.

I left him floating on his back and went
to look for the margarita shaker I had with me the night before. When I turned
to go back up to the pool, I caught him looking anxiously over the edge. He was
watching me to see if I was going to run. 

He’d gotten quite attached to me in a
very short period of time. It was amazing.  Not that I cared. Where was I
going?

 And two together were much better odds
than one alone.

~***~

We went out onto the beach and sat in
the sun for a time.  He found me fascinating; or should I say, he found my
various parts fascinating.  Just now, he was fixated on my right arm.

It was amusing to watch him turn my hand
all around and examine it.  He spread my fingers, his brow furrowed in
concentration. I was one giant science experiment for this guy.  Really, I
don’t know what was so mesmerizing. He had hands and fingers too.

He got up on his knees when he got to my
shoulder.  I wouldn’t have minded, but I was practically eye level with his
semi-hard cock.

I stole a look at it as he rubbed,
touched, and sniffed my shoulder. It was all too obvious that he was the proud
owner of a Grade-A package.  His balls were big and heavy, dusky brown, hanging
temptingly behind a very thick, fairly lengthy penis.  He grew very hard as he
fondled my shoulder. I tried not to imagine him pushing inside me, arching his
back and coming, but I couldn’t do that with his cock staring me in the face. I
felt myself go wet.

Before I could think about it, I reached
over and ran my hand over his abs and around his muscular waist. His whole body
jerked; he wrapped one hand tightly around himself.

I looked up into his eyes.  They were starting
to glaze over. He hadn’t expected me to touch him.  And he certainly hadn’t
expected to have that reaction to my touch. 

His reaction fueled my own. Lust slammed
into me like a tsunami.

Without warning, he reached out and
caught me around the waist, a little rougher than I liked.  He jerked me up to
my knees and hard against his body.

Dangerous territory. Holy fuck, were we in
it!

His eyes, large and dark, stared into
mine with more than just curiosity. He was breathing hard through his nose,
practically snorting at me. 

My pussy clenched tightly. I desperately
wanted to feel the fullness of him stretching me.  I was so wet it was
practically running down my legs.  I shouldn’t have done it, but I put one hand
behind his head and drew his mouth down to mine.  He didn’t resist.

I didn’t know if he’d ever been kissed. 
If not, he caught on quickly. His lips were soft and pliable at first, then
hard and demanding.  I leaned into the kiss; without asking my permission, my
hands went around him and gripped his buttocks.

He didn’t speak, but his body knew the
language. It was communicating very nicely with mine.

He pulled me closer and ground his cock
against me. I shifted my hips, moved back a little, and pushed him down between
my legs. He was gasping now; my hand on him had really shaken him.  I could see
he wanted more.

His cock pressed hard against my clit. I
groaned. One more second and I was going to be flat on my back in the sand
letting this gorgeous man ride me to glory.

I tried to get a grip. I couldn’t...
couldn’t...
do
this. The rules of propriety demanded that I at least get to know him a little
better before I gave myself to him. It sounds crazy, but I wasn’t ready to
throw 21 years of a pretty moral upbringing to the wind.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t have my O.  I
was very nearly there. I pulled his hand from around my waist, tipped my hips
back, and guided his fingers to the wetness between my legs.  I pushed two of
his fingers over my clit, rubbing, circling, caressing.  I finally collapsed
against him, threw my head back and shuddered, crying out in sweet agony.

It was the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever
had.  

~***~

He was weird with me after that.  He lagged
behind as we walked back to where he lived.  Every time I turned around to see
if he was with me, he’d stare at me as if I’d sprouted purple hair and fangs.  He
was still hard as a rock.

I felt bad and more than a little guilty. 
He’d felt the same things I did, but he had no name for them.  I’d gotten mine,
but I hadn’t given him his.  I tried to think of a way I could make it up to
him.