0 comments/ 107350 views/ 2 favorites Fantasy Island Ch. 1 By: Jakeofalltrades1964 I had awaken in a series of small steps. First, there was a vague feeling of pain- not piercing, but certainly not pleasant, either, radiating from my side and my calf. Needles and pins in my left arm, for I had been sleeping with it underneath me. Small steps. A soothing roaring of water all around me- approaching, then receding, then repeating in a hypnotic rhythm. The horizon tilting in fits and jerks. The cries of seagulls. Salty mist. Small steps. Curious, I popped my head up. My small life boat, or, what was left of it, had run aground on a tropical beach. The waves were spanking aft, making the pitiful remains of it yaw with every slap. The water foamed and churned as it washed over the rocks and sand around me, roaring as it had for millennia. The beach was pristine, excepting the odd bit of flotsam, like children's toys across a carpet of white sand. About twenty yards away lay a lush growth of ferns, brush, flowers, then trees reaching high up into the morning air. The sky was a canvas of pastel colors- vibrant pinks and piercing violets, as the sun crested the horizon behind the thick clouds far away. The same clouds, maybe that had produced the tempest that had sunk my sailboat? I wasn't sure. I looked at myself to see if I had been injured during my ordeal in the night- aside from some bumps and bruises, and the stiffness in my side from sleeping against the hard wood, I was fine. My clothes were little more than a faint memory- they had been ripped from my body by the ululating winds that ripped my sail clean off, stranding me even then as if the wave that I had the foresight to see, a 30 footer at least, came at my sailboat (a wedding present from Father) giving me the precious seconds to drop my lifeboat into the water before the wave overturned my sailboat and sunk it faster than my marriage. How I survived in my tiny life raft- not even 8 feet long- was astounding. Curious to explore my new home, I stepped out into the luxuriously warm water, feeling the sand pull from between my toes by the tide. Something caught my eye, and I bent down to pick up a periwinkle. Holding the shell in my palm, I admired the soft colors spiraling around it, as the breeze caressed my hair like an experienced lover. Here I was, stranded, with no idea how I would survive, but it was so liberating. I had grown up spoiled absolutely rotten with lavish gifts and opportunities most women only dream of. Horses to ride on, dance instructors to teach me waltzes, I had an art studio once my teachers thought me good enough to do it for a living, parties that included moneyed families of Newport, fancy cars, designer original dresses, closets and closets of the latest in fashion. But there was also the pressure. "You must be a perfect lady, as befitting one of such a proper family," Mother would often remind me. Everyone controlling every aspect of your life. A staff of 8 servants growing up to run the house, and 3 of my own once I was married. My parents had even 'arranged' who I was going to marry. There were times I felt so trapped- and I craved freedom. When I went to private school, I would envy the so-called "normal kids", who drove around in common autos, having real friends, going to greasy spoons on a date. Hanging out in the mall, flirting with members of the opposite sex quite blatantly at times. They seemed so free. When I got married, I had stars in my eyes. My marriage to Roland was perfect, like something from a fairy tale- an original wedding gown, ice sculptures, hundreds of wedding guests, wonderful gifts, an elegant home on Martha's Vineyard. Unfortunately, we had had no children, for I was sterile as an operating theatre. Soon after the magic of our wedding day faded, I was studying how the other side lived, and I began to despair. They had barely enough money to get by, but they had love. They had passion. Passion for each other, and passion for life. Poor little rich girl, I thought, but the problem with cliche's is that they are so often true. When I had discovered Roland had been having affairs with several of his staff, I lost it. He assured me it would never happen again, and part of me wanted to believe him, but I still watched him closely. I wanted to tell myself that I loved him, and that he would never do anything to harm me. Of course, I found out he had no intention of being forthright and honest. He was becoming a cruel man- secretive, paranoid, almost criminal. Apparently, the law firm he was partners in saw the same things. He was cast out quietly when they discovered he was embezzling. I tried to be supportive, as a good wife should be, but he began drinking and yelling at me, telling me it was my fault... he HAD to steal to support us and my lifestyle. "Poppycock," I replied. "I make quite a living selling my paintings- enough to support myself, and I do." Roland looked at me angrily and actually grabbed me. He called me all sorts of vile things, and when he drove me into a corner and slapped me, I knew it was over. I filed for divorce within the day. I moved out despite his protests that he'd never raise his hand to me again, but I wasn't having any of it. I purchased a home, for myself, no staff. Mother and Father urged me to reconsider, but I was enjoying my new life. It was harder, but I was becoming rebellious. I had freedom. To celebrate the success one of my showings had just achieved, I decided to take my sailboat, a 45 foot Beneteau I had christened "Pinxit" (that's Latin for "I painted it") for the Bahamas, nowhere in particular, I just wanted to go. That seemed like a lifetime ago, that showing. And, in a way, it was. I was beginning a new life. The island was a few miles long, I discovered, shaped like a horseshoe. At the apex of the horseshoe was a great cliff that reached upwards as if straining to touch the sky. Seeing that the island was small, at least I had no worries of predators, so I knew I would be safe here. I decided to call my new home my 'good luck charm'. I had no idea what I would do until rescue arrived. I had no survival skills, other than what the sailing course had taught me, but that was rudimentary at best. I hadn't even had time to send out a distress call- I was too busy trying to survive the storm, and between trying to guide my boat safely through and peering through my binoculars to try to find the smaller waves I could cut through, I had no time. Besides, I knew that I wouldn't perish- I knew I would find a way. And so I did. I was thirsty. There were several palm fronds laying on the ground, with puddles of sweet rainwater on them. I reached down and picked one up from the edges so as not to spill any of the precious fluid and drank, feeling the cool water moisten my lips as it touched them. Knowing I would need a container to save my water in, I began looking around for something suitable. I found a pineapple tree and looked for some that had fallen. I was in luck! I broke the top off with a rock and hungrily scooped out the fruit with my fingers, dripping juice all over my pert breasts as I feasted. I had succeeded in removing nearly all of it so that I could use the husk as a canteen. I spent the next hour or so looking for more puddles of rainwater on the fallen fronds to gather up, when I heard a sound. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but I was curious. It sounded alien, but there was desperation and warning about it. I ran through the primeval jungle towards the sound. Breaking out into the open, I searched the waters for what had created the sound. I saw them. A rubber Zodiac, overladen with the bodies of 15 men, trying to guide it ashore with paddles, trying to avoid the rocks and shoals offshore. I ran down to the beach, forgetting my nakedness, to beckon them in. When they first saw me, I could see even from that distance their white smiles. With eagerness, they steered their craft safely onto the beach. The men scrabbled onto the sand, running up to greet me. I looked down, and saw that I was naked, as if noticing it for the first time. A proper part of myself wanted to cover myself in modesty, but then the logical part of me said, 'why bother?' I have no clothes to cover up with anyways. I stood, proudly, as they ran up to me. They were all fine specimens of man. All of them were fit, and between 25-40 years of age, and in keen shape. Some of their clothes, too, had been taken by the wind, for only 4 of them had any adornment- a tatter of a life jacket, the scraps of a shirt, and two with extremely tight swim trunks, but I could see their apparent pleasure of me even from 20 feet. They all stopped, a few paces from me and began talking wildly amongst themselves in a strange tongue. There were broad smiles as some of them openly ogled me, some looked around in amazement, but one man looked directly into my eyes. His blue eyes were piercing, penetrating me as if laying my whole life bare for him to study. He looked like a man who knew what he wanted, but there was something about his eyes that seemed a little sad. He had crinkles at the corners of his eyes that showed he was a man of mirth, who could make anyone feel happy, but it still had that hint of sadness. I knew in that moment that this man had either had a hard life, or had suffered a loss. But he was strong, for he kept smiling. I stood there, like a deer in the headlights as he gazed into my eyes. I wanted to look away shyly, but I couldn't. I wanted his eyes to devour me. After long moments of this silent exchange, his face lit up in a beautiful smile, his teeth purest white, like the virgin snow. He said something I could not understand, and though his language was foreign, his voice was strong, yet gentle, and the most wonderful voice I have ever heard. I had always thought Sean Connery had a wonderful voice, but his voice sounded more like Sean Connery than Sean himself. I melted, even though I had not one whit of what he was saying. He finally pointed to himself, and repeated "Lars". I took a step towards him and placed my hands on his broad chest. His nipples stood out like raisins, blending into his tanned skin. His chest hair was just right- not too much, not too little. It was soft as baby down, the droplets of spray clinging to them like decorations on a Christmas tree. I traced my fingers along his body- touching him to assure myself he was really there. The other men were elbowing themselves at first and grinning from ear to ear as Lars placed his arms around me and held me close. I felt his bare manhood against my tummy, and felt it grow. I went weak in the knees as he placed a finger underneath my chin and lifted my face, then pressed his full lips against my own. He was so incredibly gentle, kissing me in the softest of kisses, like the wings of a butterfly, or the rustle of silk against my skin. I felt his cock grow hot, and I reached down to touch it. It felt so fervent, so right, I just held it as he kissed me. I could feel myself becoming unbelievably aroused. I knew what I wanted to do. As I had said before, I have been a woman of society- well mannered, correct, almost puritan in some ways. But what I was feeling now was indescribable. Here was the opportunity to live out nearly every woman's fantasy. To have several men to pleasure and be pleasured by, yet have one man who I would devote myself to, to love and be truly loved in return. I knelt down, kissing his torso as I slid downwards. The first time I had seen a man's penis, I was 17. I was repulsed. A man wanted to put that hideous thing inside of me? Ah, the innocence of youth. As I grew more wise (but not nearly enough) in the ways of passion, these initial reactions to our bodies passed, to be replaced with a fascination. That was what I was feeling now. I kneeled, eye level with his member, and it was simply the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I gently held it in my palm, my fingers nearly encircling it, not not quite. It's length was pleasing, and as I rubbed the head across my cheek, I marvelled at the velvety texture. It was breathtaking. I looked up into his face, and he smiled as his fingers caressed my golden tresses. I saw love in his eyes. Pure love, like they write poems about. I let his cock draw across my lips, kissing him tenderly, then I parted my lips and took him in. It was so warm, hard, and pleasurable. I wanted him to be pleased so badly. I gently sucked him like a baby sucking a pacifier, listening to his moans of pleasure as my head bobbed up and down slowly. My hands ran along the back of his legs as he ran his fingers across my face, dancing on my skin. I was feeling, if you'll pardon the expression, cocky. I knew that every sensation he was experiencing was because of me. I knew he would do anything to have me continue. Quite the ego-boost, really! The other men were standing closer, and one began to run his hand along my shoulder. I was dripping wet now- I wanted to plunge my fingers downwards and please myself, but I wanted to hold off because I was feeling so immensely sexual I didn't want it to end. I held onto Lar's hips as he softly sighed under my administrations. His hands were gliding all about me, as if he didn't know what to do with them, but he knew he had to touch me. I was happy in the knowledge of his sweet confusion, and I kissed and licked and sucked him to show my appreciation. I looked up a few times to see his face, and the smile he wore was like that of an angel. For me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other men pleasing themselves with slow strokes. This made me gush with passion. Here I was, doing something I had always believed a couple should do behind closed doors, and I was turning these other men on as well from doing it in plain sight. I felt my moistness increasing, a trickle ran down my inner thigh, I was so hot. More hands boldly touched me- some on my breasts, some on my back, others sliding along my legs. Do you know how intoxicating that was? Complete strangers, becoming aroused into a frenzy, touching me all over as I performed one of the most intimate acts of either passion or love? I closed my eyes and surrended myself to wonton pleasure. I could feel Lars reaching his climax. I was fully aware of every nuance of his being. His stance was becoming unsteady, his breathing quicker, his veins pulsating in my mouth. I sucked slower, to make the moment last. He was going insane with anticipation when I held him in my mouth and just felt him there... at the edge of the crevasse of orgasm, teetering over the abyss. I looked up again at him, his head tilted back, his strong but tender hands appreciating me. I sucked him slowly once more, and he spasmed in pleasure as my cheeks bulged outwards from the large load of white hot love lava that erupted from deep inside of him. I gulped it down and held him in my mouth, sucking him clean. When I looked into his eyes, there was a burst of love between us, making my heart pound in fury. But I still had lots to do. Another man, who was running his fingers along my arms, stood in front of me. He was smiling from ear to ear, and soon I saw why. He had to have had the largest penis I had ever seen! It was a little longer than what I have read to be the average size, but it was so thick- it was thicker than my wrist! I quickly began licking it all over, getting it nice and lubricated so I could get it in my mouth. I got the tip into my mouth, and I could feel my lips stretching around it as he moaned, saying things under his breath in passion. I moved to make myself more comfortable, and I found that Lars had gathered some fronds for me to lay back upon. I lay back on my little blanket he had been so thoughtful and sweet to improvise for me, and winked at him. I saw him smile broadly as I continued. Now, since I was laying back, I had spread my legs and felt several hands exploring me like a cherished prize. At first, I had propped myself up on my elbows as I lay back, with this man straddling my chest, but soon, I just lay back completely, with Lars holding my head in his hands, his fingers brushing my hair back. I felt several fingers slide across my cunny lips, sopping wet from my excitement. One man began to move closer (I could see through my breasts down along my body) and I wanted to gasp as his mouth made contact with my throbbing sex, but the thick cock in my mouth stifled it into a moan. He was unskilled, but eager to learn. He was gentle going down on me, but he lacked direction. I slid my arms along my tunny to hold his face and guide him. He learned quickly. I came in no time, my body wracked with spasms and twitches, but he kept going. Soon, the man I was sucking was shaking and shuddering as well, and I was rewarded with another mouthful as Lars kept caressing my face. Another man moved up beside my face, and I immediately began sucking him when still another kneeled on the other side of me. I reached up and began stroking them both, taking turns taking them into my mouth. Other men were stroking above my breasts, and the sight of those fine specimens stroking themselves as their hands ran over my body was incredible. I never wanted it to end. I had done it all. They came in my mouth, some two, some three times. There was a creamy, warm puddle of semen on my breasts, dripping down my sides, pooling in my navel, sliding down my chin, all over. I was frosted with sauce. The sun warmed it up like the finest of massage oils as they rubbed it into my skin. I had orgasmed so many times I was weak, but I wanted to keep going. Gentle orgasms that rocked me slowly, powerful orgasms that stole my breath, continual orgasms that made my blood flow like lava. It was like living in a dream that I never wanted to awaken from. By the time we had stopped, the sun was beginning its descent to the horizon. I felt a thousand things at once- flushed, warm, sticky, gooey, exhausted, exhilarated, spent, charged with energy, everything and nothing. I lay back, catching my breath, and Lars was still with me. He picked me up and carried me to the ocean and rinsing me off, his hands cleaning me with that refreshingly warm salt water. The setting sun still beat down, drying me off quickly as we stood, holding each other for long moments. He led me back to the men, who were eagerly pointing to the glade and talking excitedly amongst themselves. Lars smiled in sweet confusion as they led us in. The men had made a bed out of palm leaves and soft ferns, surrounded by wild flowers that christened the air with their sweet scents, framing our bed like a picture. The sun's rays penetrated the foliage in brilliant yet soft beams, giving it an almost mystical light. Lars scooped me up in his arms and carried me over the threshold. I looked into his eyes and kissed him as he stepped into our bed. Apparently, this was isolated for us... the other men had made beds some distance from us to give us privacy. That they would do this for Lars, that the men loved him so, would have spoken volumes to me, even if I had known nothing else about him. It was sweet. As Lars laid down on his back, I nestled up against him, my head on his chest, hearing the drumbeat of his heart, hypnotic in its rhythm. I felt his arm around me and his gentle kisses as I realized, I had once had it all. Upper crust lifestyle, and all the perquisites that came with it. I had lost it all in a tempest, and gained something more once I had found my little good luck charm. I had a man who truly and without reservations loved me, yet the ultimate fantasy of having several sexy men at my beck and call. I could let passion take me to where I had never thought of, like a new door opening for me every day. I could do things 'proper' society would have shuddered at, for these men accepted me in ways my former friends never could have. My mind filled with such raw sexual thoughts... I could have them all go down on me, I could suck them or fuck them all in every possible way. I could give them all pleasure and have them give me pleasure in ways I had not yet discovered. Fantasy Island Ch. 1 But, right now, I was with my man. And I wanted deperately to show him how thankful I was that fate had cast us together. Strange that I had known him less than 12 hours, yet I felt so comfortable with him. Yet, I was more than that- I was totally in love. I kissed his chest, letting my fingers graze across his soft fur as I cuddled closer. One kiss became two, then three, then a multitude. I could see him becoming aroused again, and I needed him inside of me. Without preamble, I straddled him and guided him towards my sex. His eyes widened as the head of his magnificent penis touched my petals, seeking entrance to my moist garden. I thought of my adventure this morning and how he held me as gentle as a newborn the entire time. My lubrication increased, slowly sliding his cock between my cunny lips. I slowly rested my weight downwards, feeling him enter me tentatively. Mmmmmmmm, that wonderful moment of penetration. I tilted my head back and purred as he reached up to cup my breasts in his warm palms, his fingertips and thumbs tracing lazy circles around my nipples. I slid down further, taking him inside of me gradually, inch by hot inch. It was funny- all 15 men I had pleased, and not one of them I had felt inside me. Lars was my first. I felt him pulsate and in return, I clenched my muscles around his shaft as we rode each other tenderly. I was alive, feeling every nerve expanding so I could feel everything. We were exploring each other, seeking out different movements that best suited us, affections that aroused us, knowing each other in the most deepest sense. Our lovemaking was soft, sweet, and truly intimate. He had stamina as well, for Roland would climax in a few minutes and had always been on top. But Lars let me control the pace, which was very exciting, and he was straining to hold back, as was I, because it felt so marvelous. Our love became frantic. We moaned with abandon, sighing and thrusting as if our very lives depended upon it. I started to come, and I fixed my eyes on his- locking each other together as I tried not to close my eyes- I wanted so dearly to see him. I felt him under me, his hips thrusting upwards as if he wanted to completely be inside of me, his back arching, his mouth moving but not sending voice, we started approaching the point of no return as we climaxed together... I contracted around him as he filled my insides with his warm flood of passion. I milked him dry and kept riding as I climaxed too, then collapsing on top of him with him still inside of me. I held onto him, and he held me close as we both sobbed in joy. We lay there for long moments, and then he did something I have never heard of before, but it aroused me greatly. We rolled over, so that I was on my back with him on top, and he began kissing me passionately. Our mouths became entangled as our tongues fought like swordsmen, parrying, thrusting, dodging, sliding against each other in a battle both of us would win. Then, he kissed my face, my throat, nibbling on my earlobes, taking them between his teeth and sucking them firmly. I had read about that but had never experienced it. Until now. His kisses meandered all over as he praised me, kissing my neck, my chest, my shoulders, my breasts.... he kissed them as if he were so grateful, which he was, as was I. He took each nipple into his mouth, surrounding my aerola with his warm, wet mouth. I cooed and purred as he did this, running my hands through his hair. He cupped one breast in his strong hands like a drinking from a bowl and drove his tongue into my nipple- I almost came right then... then he did the same to the other, but gentler this time. I was getting wild. Feeling him on top of me, his comfortable weight, his muscles sculpted like that of a Greek God, his mouth- his wonderful mouth, on me at all times. He kissed lower, on the undersides of my breasts, my tummy, my navel, then he slipped around to my side and lightly tickled me with his lips. I had no idea what he was going to do... but if he was going to do as I had guessed, the thought turned me on immensely. He did. He got between my legs as blew lightly on my throbbing clitty, and I ooooohed in delight, my lips pursing together. I had never even heard of a man going down on a woman after intercourse, for most men are disgusted by it, yet women are expected to 'clean the man off' afterwards, in an unfair double standard. He looked up into my eyes, and he reached up to hold my hands. Then he brought his lips to my sex, dripping with the minglings of our passion, and kissed. I felt as if electricity was lighting me up all over- I spread my legs so that he could kiss deeper, and he did. He lovingly licked me- cleaning me up with his wonderfully talented mouth I broke contact with his hands and held his face towards me as I ground my hips into him, feeling my cunny and his tongue were fused together as one. I was incredibly aroused now- I had never even heard of this, yet he was doing it for me. I came again. But he would have none of it- he kept licking and sucking and nuzzling and I kept coming over and over as he took me into his mouth, drinking down our love as I held him there. I was almost forcing him to eat me, yet he was doing it willingly. I was aroused so much by the thought I came again. And again. Finally, he slowed down as I was gasping for air like a gaffed fish. He lay beside me, and I kissed him full on the mouth, tasting my own sex on his lips. When I lay back again to recover, he was smiling like he had just found the golden fleece.... well, ate it, anyways! We held each other forever. The sun was disappearing now, and it was getting dark. A light was coming from somewhere though, and we both went to investigate. Stepping out onto the warm sand, we saw, that down the beach a ways, the men had started a fire. They had created a banquet of pineapples and some other fruits I didn't recognize, red snapper fillets (fortunately, there was a few things they had found during my time with Lars, like a first aid kit, a floating fillet knife and some waterproof canvas that had washed up on shore) and a tea they had made by using pineapple husks as a kettle, fresh berries and grass, and a cache of rainwater they had found in a natural basin. It was all delicious, and the smells were enticing. This was our first meal here, so it became a celebratory feast. Lars disappeared for short while as the other men and I tried to communicate. Some of them were singing a strange yet lively song, and some of the men danced around the fire, lending a most festive air. I sat, captivated by their bodies. Some were lean, like speed skaters, others were husky yet muscular, and yet others were inbetween. Any one of these men I would have given a flirtatious glance to- and there were all here on my good luck charm. Lars came back to me, with his hands behind his back. I lept to my feet and ran to him, when he held out his hands. I wanted to cry. Hwe was holding a small crown of flowers he had woven together for me. My eyes were liquid as I went up to him, placing my hands against his chest. The other men cheered wildly as he placed the crown on my golden hair and kissed my forehead. He turned me around and presented me to the others as they applauded. I would have felt embarassed 24 hours ago, but now, here I was, naked to them, adorned for nothing but some silly flowers, but it felt so warming to my heart. They had made a place of honor for myself and Lars as we all sat around the fire, drinking that delicious tea. I had felt better about myself now than I had in years. A successful display of my paintings? An elegant dinner party? It all paled in comparison to the joy I felt now, sitting nude amongst these men, with my lovely Lars by my side. The men talked amongst themselves, and soon, a few started singing again. They all joined in, even Lars, who had a voice in song that would make Enrico himself proud. It was full, powerful, and when he smiled it was if there was no need of a fire- his grin was infectious and it lit up the world like the beacon. A few men started dancing again, and as Lars sang, I leaned against him, taking his hand in mine as I watched the men play around the fire. I watched them, their bodies reflecting the firelight as embers swirled about like fireflies amongst the stars. One man danced in front of me, his manhood jerking this way and that as he moved. I was mesmerized. He stopped a moment and looked at Lars, then to me. He held his hand out for me in invitation to dance as well. I looked at Lars, and he smiled encouragement so I allowed myself to be helped up as the men started singing louder. I watched how they danced and tried to emulate their moves. I had taken ballroom dancing lessons for years and years, which I had always thought of as graceful and beautiful, but this was FUN! I stepped this way and that, and let my arms flow freely like stray currents of a breeze on a lazy summer's afternoon. I had no idea what I was doing, but it was most enjoyable, and the men seemed to approve. I danced with several of them, and I felt their happiness surround me. One sang became many, until at one point, Lars began humming a classical piece I was quite fond of, even though I was never good with names of songs. I began dancing slowly to it, and the other men caught the song and hummed as well. I danced gracefully, almost like a waltz, presenting myself to each of them. The others who had been dancing had stopped, just watching me. They were captivated, if I may be given the luxury of saying so. One of the men had been watching me with longing in his eyes, so I danced up to him and took his hands in mine, and led him through a few simple moves. As our bodies brushed together, I felt his penis rub sensuously across my legs several times. I licked my lips and held my body close to his, feeling him against me. I lightly ground my hips against him playfully, and he smiled broadly. Lars and the other men kept the song going, and I looked over to him to see if it was ok. He nodded his head, grinning. I placed this young man's hands on my breasts, and soon we weren't so much as dancing as we were having foreplay standing up. I felt a touch lightheaded- was it something in that tea, or something in the air? I ran my hands across his back, feeling his firm buttocks as his hardness pressed into me. some of the other men were beginning to become aroused earlier- now all of them were! I let him slide his cock between my breasts as the humming faded off. Feeling it glide on my chest, I held him close so he could really get into it. He held me gently as he moaned and sighed, and I wanted him to cum so badly, I quickly stole quick kisses to his wonderful penis. Then I completely kneeled and rested myself back on my arms as he rubbed his cock along my breasts, and when he erupted onto me, the men all cheered. Cum was dripping down my breasts, feeling hot as the fire cast its warmth to me, and I beckoned another man to come close to me. I had thought that this morning was wild. Our celebratory feast made it look tame in comparison. I was led back to my seat of honor, next to Lars as I sucked men, stroked them, and had them fuck me, all at once. At one point, I was pleasuring 5 men at once... one entering my little cunny, two in my mouth and one in each hand. I let them enter me as I was on all fours, with me on top, with them on top, sideways, anyway! Their cum oozed out from me, dripping from between my thighs, it was all over my face, and my breasts, and my tummy was filled with it. We all had several turns with each other- it was a marathon of sex! I sucked them until there was no more seed to give me, and then some. My tortured cunny came so many times I had no idea what it was like to feel 'normal' again. I was continually aroused. Slowly, one by one, the men began to leave until there was just myself and Lars. I looked into his face, and he had the most wonderful smile. I was a mess, however. Semen in my hair, all over my face, sliding down my body, pooling up between my breasts and then sliding down to my clitty in thick warm gobs, but I didn't care. Then my sweet Lars suprised me again. He took me into his arms and kissed me full on the mouth, still covered with the essence of all those men. He kissed my face clean, sharing their cum in little kisses to my mouth, our tongues sliding sensually against each other. He licked my throat, my breasts, and, oh my god, even my cunny clean, sharing some of the drops of delicious cock cream together. I came once more as he finished off my poor cunny, exhausted from this day of passion. We again went down to the water and washed each other before retiring to our little bed. I lay close to him, with the bright moon above and the stars peeking through the trees. I cuddled close with him and him with me, feeling safe and protected in his embrace. We ended up making love again, but slow, sweet, gentle love. I loved him so very much. My heart felt a burst for him everytime I looked into his eyes. After we both came for the last time that day, we held each other and spoke with our hearts. I was taking my first small steps into a new doorway, and Lars was there with me. As I started to drift off to sleep, a smile crossed my face. Who knows what tomorrow would bring? He had ushered me into a new life for myself, and for us. I didn't feel like a slave to these men. There was no spite, only tenderness, passion, lust, and love. With love, I kissed Lars' fingertips and started to sleep. For tomorrow was another day. Small steps.