1 comments/ 33627 views/ 33 favorites Huge Fuckin' Insects! Pt. 01 By: PrevertOne (Inspired by "Ravaging A New Host" by Little White Mouse) By The Preve Thanks to Emerald Mbuku for the edit. Emma Burgess watched the plane sink into the azure blue waters of the lagoon. Bad luck all around. "We are fucked," she said to Doug. "And the week started off so well." Actually the week hadn't started off well. Emma didn't really want to come to Tahiti but her sister Stella had apparently gotten into trouble "Again," sighed an exasperated Emma so the parents asked (actually commanded) Emma to look for her. Stella and her best friend Moira, whom Emma didn't particularly like, "Smartassed bitch," had dashed off on some end-of-college excursion and, after a brief phone call from the hotel, promptly disappeared. The Burgesses waited several weeks after Stella's failure to return before sending Emma. They did so reluctantly. Until recently, Emma was considered the level headed sister but then she had to get involved in that scandalous relationship. . . Bad enough he wasn't of their class, but a nineteen year old? Emma was thirty. "We expected this behavior from Stella but you. . . etc, etc." Emma, in truth, couldn't say why she was involved with Doug. She didn't know herself. The closest explanation was, "It was Daytona. It was spring break. There were all these boys and well. . ." Blind coincidence that she would vacation in Florida on spring break. Blind luck she would meet a freshman on the beach, with the slim, athletic body of a competitive swimmer and (as she would find after a dare from her friend, Mariko, and a couple of tequilas) the dick and stamina of a Viagra cranked porn star. In hindsight, she thought, "It was his cock. . . and those eyes." Doug had the clearest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen on a human face; bluer even than Stella's. *** Doug "The Dolphin" Doyle, on his part, couldn't believe his good luck. There he was, his first spring break, surrounded by the choicest college babes from all points, US, and the first chick to come on to him was a hot number old enough to be. . . well his swim coach. The first night was mind blowing (or cock blowing, Emma was really good). It wasn't the virginal teen vs. Mrs. Robinson. Doug lost his virginity at fifteen and had had several girlfriends prior to Emma. It was more the energetic young man and the experienced older woman. Doug didn't do much else that spring break except fuck Emma. His friends were scandalized. Sure, the lady was hot, but she was, um. . . thirty. A one nighter was fine, but the whole two weeks? And now they're dating? His friends didn't know whether to say "Cool!" or "Huh?!" Doug's views tended towards the former. She was adventurous in and out of bed. Doug loved going in and out of her. It was difficult scheduling screw sessions between college classes and swim meets. Emma was good about withholding sex before competition. Thanks to Emma, Doug became somewhat of a nudist. The first time he came to her house, she dared him to skinny dip in the pool. Doug was more than happy to oblige. It got better when she joined him. Nude swimming and fucking became a regular pastime. It helped with the lovemaking that Doug was relatively hairless. Doug was dark-haired; before swim meets, he shaved his head and waxed his body hair to reduce friction. Just before Emma got the phone call about her sister's disappearance, Doug was in the pool as usual, Emma lounging on the patio. Doug climbed out of the pool, bald and hairless after a recent swim meet. . . mostly hairless. "You missed a spot," Emma giggled. Doug looked down at the dark patch between his legs and smirked. He walked into the house, ignoring Emma's quizzical expression. A few minutes later, he returned with a huge grin and a giant erection on his now hairless crotch. Emma looked at the long red pole jutting from the swimmer's light pink body and licked her lips. "Looks yummy," she said. "Bring that sausage over so I can have some. And lick my pussy while you're at it." Doug laughed and walked over. "Bring!" went the phone. "Ignore it," said Emma. She opened her mouth to give Doug a proper kebassing. Doug plunged his tongue into Emma's flower in response. The phone continued to ring as Emma and Doug worked each other over. Doug swirled and licked his tongue around her vulva, gliding across her swollen clit, drinking the nectar squirting from her flower. He rolled his eyes, reveling in the pleasure of her warm slick cum on his face. Emma reciprocated, sliding her wet tongue over and around his hard shaft. She licked his precum, beaded at the tip, and moved her tongue across his bald crotch, licking his bare balls. Emma's hands clutched his tight buttocks. They hadn't noticed the interlude where the phone stopped, then resumed ringing. She'd worked him to near orgasm. Doug was close to cumming. . . and then the answering machine switched on. "Emma! Emma! I know you're there with that boy! Pick up the phone, Emma! Your sister's missing!" At her mother's voice, Emma detached from Doug's dick (he actually heard a comical "pop!"). "Damn!" said Emma. "Damn!" said Doug, as his dong deflated. He waited while Emma spoke to her mother and then decided to take a few laps to cool off. When he climbed out, Emma was waiting. "Stella decided to take a trip to Tahiti with Moira. They haven't called for awhile and mother says the local cops are morons. She wants me to fly down and look for them. I think she's overreacting but she insists. Want to come along?" "Hell yes!" Doug's dick said. He'd met Emma's sister and her best friend; both of them were hot but Stella seemed unapproachable. Emma was hot but Stella, "Wow!" Emma's beauty, at least, seemed more accessible, girl-next-door vs. Stella's supermodel looks. Add Moira, a cheesecake, voluptuous vixen type. The prospect of a vacation with three hot women was too much to resist. Emma was a licensed pilot who knew her business. "Pack light," she told him. They took the Burgess' family Lear jet, landed and checked into a hotel (the same one as Stella and Moira). The next day, they went to the police. Her mother was right. "Morons," Emma said. She hired a local P.I. Unlike most detectives, he was helpful. His probing turned up the name of a local private chopper pilot, described as an unscrupulous bastard, who may have taken a pair of tourists to some restricted islands southwest of Tahiti. Nothing more was heard of him but it was a start. "I suggest you take care, Madame," he cautioned. "If you do look in that direction, do not tell anyone. The islands are restricted and people are known to disappear." Emma didn't care. Among the few traits she had in common with her sister was a certain bold recklessness. It served her well as a pilot and explorer. She wasn't overly reckless, like her sister, and the temptation to take Doug and head back home was very powerful. Sure it was Tahiti, but her presence was attributable to her unlikable parents. That aspect spoiled any prospect of a good time in paradise. "Sis, why'd you have to fucking go and get yourself lost?" Emma thought with a good amount of rue. She sighed, sorority trumped convenience. "Know where we can find a good plane?" she asked the P.I. Acquiring the float plane took a few bribes and several close inspections. Some of the prospective salesmen were dismayed to find that the "easy" mark was an expert pilot, a top flight mechanic, and a shrewd buyer with lengthy experience dealing with con artists. An hour's flight later and the couple were over the islands. Doug didn't need coaxing the get on the plane. The adventure excited him. Thoughts of three hot babes on a tropical island crowded out any misgivings. The flight was uneventful until they passed over the second island. "What did the P.I say about this one?" He asked. "He called it Wongo," Emma said. "I'm going to make a quick pass. I don't want to be here longer than I have to." Wongo was a reasonably sized island with a large lagoon. It didn't have as many plants as the other islands. Longo, the first one, seemed particularly lush. Emma took note of the many hills dotting Wongo's interior. A large extinct volcano sat at the southern tip. "Quite a few pools in this place," Doug remarked. "I see some streams and falls. This looks like a good place to swim." "Mmph," Emma grunted. She was more intrigued by the strange looking birds near the volcano. "I don't see any wreckage. I'm going to the next island." Emma turned the plane towards Mongo. Wham! "What the-?!" Emma cried as the plane shuddered. Something was smeared across the windshield. A splotch of pale brown and beige viscera stained the glass. "What the hell is that?" asked Doug. Emma was about to answer when the plane came under an onslaught of multiple impacts. "Damn! Bird strike! Hold on! We've got to get out of here before the engine seizes!" The smeared windshield limited the occupants' vision. Emma was busy keeping the plane aloft. Doug clutched the seat, staring at the viscera on the windshield. Bits and pieces of bird were smeared and wiped away. One piece caused Doug to blink. "That looks like an insect wing," he thought. The wipers erased it a second later. There was another jolt. The engine gave a sickening sputter and cut out. "Oh fuck!" Emma cursed. She looked through the smeared windshield and turned to Doug, "I'm going to glide her in. Brace yourself; I'm aiming for the lagoon." Emma's expert piloting managed to get them to the water, but the plane flipped and started to sink almost immediately. Doug's swimming skills took over. He helped Emma unbuckle and, with his help, exit the plane and swim ashore. Now they were on the beach and Emma was saying, "We are fucked. . ." "Look," Doug said. "It's not so bad. Your parents will send someone eventually. All we have to do is survive until then. Where are we again?" "Wongo," Emma replied sourly. "They don't know where we are, Doug, and we couldn't tell the authorities because they'd stop us." "Emma, if Stella and Moira could find these islands, and we could too, what makes you think it will be any different with your parents?" Emma thought for a second. "No, Mother couldn't find her way out of a beauty salon, but they could hire someone who can. I can scrounge up some food while we wait." Emma, like her sister, was an excellent hiker with hunting skills. "Most of these islands have coconut and banana trees, and I think we can. . . what are you doing?" Doug was stripping off his clothes. "I'm going to dive to the plane and salvage our packs. Wanna help?" Emma thought for less than a second, "Hmmm, why not?" And began to strip. They could have just as easily dived with their clothes but it seemed pointless. Better to let them dry on the beach. Doug stripped to his briefs and, after a moment's hesitation, took them off. "There's nothing she hasn't seen before," he thought. Emma, matching her boyfriend's nudity, dispensed with her bra and panties. Doug gazed at her body. "God she's hot," he admired. "Not as hot as her sister but still...." Emma's straight dark brown hair went to her shoulders. She sported a more athletic look than Stella, more demure, with dark brown eyes, a broader nose, and thinner lips. While she matched her sister in c-cup breast size and had a taut muscled midsection, Emma was wider in the hips. "Child bearing hips, Mom would say," thought Doug. Emma was shorter than her sister, standing at 5'9". She was beautiful but not a stunner. "That's the thing," Doug thought. "She's approachable, not like Stella. I'm so lucky." Emma looked at Doug. His hair hadn't grown back from a few days ago. His hairless state only emphasized the musculature of his athletic frame. "He looks like a Greek statue," she thought. "A Greek statue with the bluest eyes ever. I'm so lucky." Staring at Emma's naked form caused a flashback to the moment before the phone call. "Whoa pardner," Emma said, staring at Doug's swelling member. "Remember? The packs? Time for that later." "Oh! Erm!" gulped Doug, startled out of his erotic reverie. His pale body blushed pink. "You can't possibly be embarrassed," Emma laughed, walking into the water. "'Course not." In due course, they retrieved the backpacks. They held enough rations for two days. "We can't stay on the beach," Emma said. "We need to be near a source of fresh water. I saw a pool nearby." Their clothes were still wet, so the couple decided to carry them and wear sandals. It was a short hike. "It's quiet," Doug noted. Indeed, other than the trees rustling in the breeze, everything was silent. "Yeah," Emma agreed. "Where are the birds? That was a major bird strike up there." "It's creepy," Doug added. A sense of unease settled upon the couple. It disappeared when they came to the pool. It was roughly circular, fed by several streams which flowed over and through rock outcroppings surrounding it. Years of water flow had worn the rocks smooth. There were plenty of places around the pool to rest. The streams were no more than a few inches deep. The babbling flow of the water was almost joyful. "Well, this is fun," said Emma with a genuine smile. Doug, however, didn't hesitate. There wasn't a pool anywhere that could keep out "The Dolphin." Almost before Emma finished, Doug was in the pool with a "Woo hoo!" and a "splash!" "Doug!" an exasperated Emma exclaimed. "Oh come on, Em! There's nothing dangerous around. We can gather food later. Just spread the clothes on the rocks and let them dry. 'Sides, you need to rinse the salt water off." Emma smirked wryly. Doug was splashing around like a pale pink seal. Minutes later, the clothes were spread and Emma was splashing in the water with Doug. Normally one thing would lead to another, certainly Doug's dick plumped with expectation. Emma was tempted but survival came first. "Whoa there, fella," Emma said. "Get some firewood first, then I'll plant myself on your wood." "Now?" "Yes now. I want some wood around here before it gets dark. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes. There are branches everywhere, no dangerous animals. Go get the wood. I'll be waiting." Emma smiled, swam to a rock on the edge of the pool, climbed on it and lay back with a grin of mischief. Doug frowned, grumbled, and swam to the other side. He climbed out and walked over the rocks towards a wooded area. Emma giggled, "Ha! He'll get over it." And lay back on the rock to rest. "It's only a few days," she thought. "They'll find us soon enough. May as well enjoy it." The day was overcast but warm and humid. The burbling stream was a lullaby. Emma closed her eyes for a light doze, unaware that she and Doug would soon be undergoing the strangest most harrowing experience of their lives. The ant was a forager. Its task was to range far and wide, picking up anything of use to the colony. It did so not as ordered but as instinct. It held the basic philosophy of all ants: queen and colony above all. A simple philosophy for a simple life. The ant had just left the colony, trundling through the jungle, heading towards the pool. There were coconut trees nearby; some coconuts plus a few large tree branches were on its gather list. The concepts of serendipity and fortune were meaningless to the ant. Many animals lived on the island, of different varieties, none strange to the ant. So when it came across the aphid, the ant didn't hesitate to pick it up. It had to be an aphid, of course. It was strangely shaped and had less appendages, but it was pale and hairless and, therefore, an aphid. The ant just scooped it up in its mandibles and headed back to the colony. It was strange the aphid made different noises from others of its kind. In fact, more often than not, aphids were usually quiet. It squirmed a lot for an aphid as well. Aphids were generally docile. The ant had to take care not to crush the creature while keeping a tight grip. The aphid's struggles increased as the ant approached the mound housing the colony. It made louder noises when it saw the other ants. The ant was mildly annoyed; this behavior was strange for an aphid. It hoped the creature wouldn't make trouble when it was milked. Aphid honey was a great delicacy; the queen would be very pleased. The ant crawled into the mound, pulling the struggling, screaming aphid behind it. To Be Continued. Huge Fuckin' Insects! Pt. 02 (Inspired by Ravaging A New Host by Little White Mouse) Thanks to Emerald Mbuku for the edit. * It was mating season and the wasps were in heat. This created a dilemma. The old queen was dead, the new one was too young to receive sperm, and most of the other prospects were sterile. Something had to be done to expend the excess sexual energy, otherwise the males would turn on each other. The increased aggression had already led to disaster. A strange wasp recently appeared over the island. A swarm went out to attack the interloper but the creature proved to be formidable. Many wasps died before the creature was driven into the lagoon. Wasps left the hive, some to investigate the crash, others in search of animals upon which to expend sexual energy. There were very few candidates. The only creatures comparable to the wasps were the ants and they were dangerous. Ants and wasps were incompatible and a mating attempt could lead to conflict, a disaster on an island with limited resources. One wasp, flying over the water stream near the lagoon, spotted an animal lying on the edge of the pool. It was pale and mostly hairless, almost like an aphid, albeit the wasp's keen eyes noticed hair on its head, and a dusting of fur between its legs. Curious, the wasp flew down to investigate. Wasps' senses are highly sensitive; while few animals, other than ants, lived on the island, the wasp could tell the difference between male and female. The animal's scent marked it as female. Within the wasp's limited brain, a decision was made. The creature lay spread out and apparently defenseless, a pink slit between its legs. Other non-insect inhabitants had similar features, so obviously it was an opening. The wasp knew its comrades would spot this creature soon enough. It presented the wasp an opportunity to expend its sexual energy before the others could get to her. The creature was lucky; if it were male, the wasp would have immediately stung it as a threat. Instead it quietly climbed on top of the reclining female, placing its legs on the animal's limbs to restrain it. Two long objects slowly emerged from the tip of the wasp's abdomen, one long, hard, and sharp, serrated like a knife; the second, longer, wet, rounded at the tip, with a hardness quite different from the other. The first stinger folded back into the wasp's body like a switchblade, leaving the second cocked and ready. The wasp raised its long, wet, dripping stinger and poised it over the creature's moist, pink slit. The creature stirred a little, turning her head to the side, muttering some incomprehensible sound. The wasp hesitated. After a moment, it buzzed its wings and thrust forward. The tip slipped through the slit with a soft slurp. The pussy stretched around the stinger, adapting to its girth. The pink vulva devoured the purple stinger. As it drilled forward, a bulge appeared on the creature's pelvis, traveling upward towards her flat, toned belly. The stinger slid through the warm, wet tunnel, sliding against the moist walls. The tunnel convulsed, involuntarily working the stinger further within. The creature began to breathe and moan heavily. Emma thought it was Doug. She was half asleep when she felt herself entered. She smiled; it happened often, when she and Doug were in bed. Both would be asleep, entwined, and one would always wake and fuck the other. Sleepy sex was the best. She liked this game. The burbling of the stream, the lapping of the pool, the soft warm breeze added to the opium pipe dream. "Mmmm," she purred. A faint buzz sounded nearby, some insect she supposed. Her breath hitched and came in faint gasps. She moaned, close to cumming. "God, he is soooo gooood," she thought. Her tongue came out and licked across her lips. Emma kept her eyes closed, wanting to preserve the dreamy sexual atmosphere. A light sheen of sweat beaded on her skin, coating her head to toe in a shiny polish. Emma waited until she came before opening her eyes. "Ooohh! Mmmm! Doug, you brought some wood after aaaahhhh!" It wasn't Doug. The sight overloaded her vision. The giant head, mandibles clicking inches from her face; the multiple legs holding her prisoner; the bulbous abdomen, striped in yellow, orange, and red, thrusting a long, wet purple shaft into and out of her pussy, sliding back and forth through her pink lips, her muff already wet with cum. A large wasp, larger than any insect had a right to be, on top of her, raping her. Emma, explorer that she was, had her share of strange encounters; ferocious bears, fierce lions, marauding bandits, overly sexed-up men. She was strong, athletic. She knew how to run, how to fight. Unfortunately, this time she had to deal with a man-sized wasp with proportional strength. She struggled, she screamed, "Yaaaah! Doug! Help! A wasp is raping me!" Doug was nowhere to be seen. "Fuck! Where is he?!" The wasp thrust and buzzed. Emma, in spite of her terror and outrage, felt the tingle of a building orgasm. "Fuck!. . .Uck!. . . Ugh!. . . Uck!. . . Get. . . off. . . me!" Her body arced pneumatically, up and down on the wet stone. Water and sweat sheened her body. Toned muscles moved under her skin as her belly rippled, twisted and turned. "Ugh!" she grunted again. Her body convulsed; cum squirted over the wasp's stinger. Emma's mind was a tornado, not merely because of the wasp's impossible size but from its effect on her body. "Impossible!" she gasped. "No insect can ever get this big!" Her body writhed and turned as it moved during sex with Doug. Her boobs quivered, tits swollen and conical from blood rushing through her body. Her breath hissed through her lips punctuated by grunts, responding to each thrust. She kept struggling, unwilling to sit still while an impossibly huge insect humped her vagina. The fact her orgasms were beginning to overlap mattered little, nor that the wasp's long and thick schlong excited her clit in ways that rivaled Doug, or other humans for that matter. It was the fact that the thing performing this carnal exercise was a GIANT FUCKING WASP! Emma just couldn't process it. "Im. . . ugh! Impossible! Ughnn! Wasps. . . ugh! Wasps don't fuck people! They. . . ugh! They can't! Is this. . . even. . . 'Ugh!' a. . . wasp?!" After a few minutes of futility, Emma stopped struggling. "It's. . . too. . . big!" she thought between orgasms. "Proportional strength; I'll have to let it finish. Fucked by a wasp! Nobody will believe this! Oh God! What if it's carnivorous!" Emma knew little of wasps. Her expertise tended more towards larger animals. Creepy crawly things and insects were her sister's interest. The thing on top of her would qualify as a large animal of course. Emma encountered more than her share of predators in her travels. Past experience taught her that knowing the animal was important to survival. "What do I know?" she asked herself. "They feed on nectar and carrion. Some are parasitic, laying eggs in paralyzed hosts for the larvae to eat. Oh God! Please don't let it be that! Damn! Stella would know what to do. She knows more about these insects." A shudder rippled through her body as she came again. "Well, whatever it's doing, my pussy likes it at least." The wasp buzzed its wings happily as it enjoyed the creature. The female was soft and pliant, arching her back and shuddering with each thrust. The walls of her inner tunnel were warm and wet, caressing its stinger with the silky touch of a flower petal. Emma exhaled a series of sounds: gasps and grunts. Her skin glowed from moisture and her tits stood red and swollen like berries. Curious, the wasp lowered its head and took one in its mandibles. Emma gasped, quite loudly. She moaned even louder when the wasp started to masticate, not quite breaking the skin. It found that using its forelegs and antennae to massage the creature's breasts caused the berries to swell further. The reddish brown teats weren't sweet, like the berries the wasps sometimes ate, but the salty sweat on them was tasty enough. Emma whipped her head from side to side; her eyes clenched shut, not from fear or outrage at the wasp's molesting, but from the exquisite blend of pleasure and pain resulting from the wasp's breast work. Low moans of increasing frequency accompanied her exhalations. "Uuunnngh! Mmmmm! Uuuunnnngh!" she ululated, alternately licking and biting her lip. A shocked revelation broke through her erotic haze, "Fuck! A giant wasp is fucking me and I'm enjoying it!" Sure, she'd been terrified initially. Terror was a logical reaction to her unique situation, partnered with a sense of outrage at the sexual violation. Emma, however, shared her sister's capacity for open-mindedness and guts, albeit she was less reckless. Plus, she had an intense libido which, when combined with her traitorous body's response to the wasp's attentions, set off a reaction far more intense than even she expected. Thoughts and worries about Doug receded far into the background. Any potential danger from the creature was no longer considered. Emma's only concern was for the moment and the creature. The day was quiet and overcast. The sounds were soft and sensual: the cool rush of the wind through the palms, the quiet burble of the stream over the rocks, the soft grunts and lustful sighs of Emma as the wasp rutted on top of her. She gazed at her body. "It's no different from Doug," she thought. Her body moved as it always had when being fucked. Her breasts wobbled like pale flesh colored balls of jelly, when not covered by the wasp's mandibles. It bobbed its head from left to right, plumping one tit or the other. Emma gasped twice, one for each orgasm. The intensity of her orgasms indicated the creature had a slight advantage over Doug in performance but seemed equal to the swimmer in stamina. "Good grief! I'm comparing Doug to a wasp! What would he think?" The insane surrealism of her situation gave way to its opposite. What should have been the single most terrifying event of her life, a stretch given her exploratory lifestyle where strange situations were a stock in trade, instead became a hyper real, fantastically new sexual experience unlike any before, "Or anyone else for that matter," she thought (unaware her sister was undergoing a similar experience). Emma's sexual life taught her to maintain some detachment even as her body did the opposite. When the wasp switched breasts, Emma was able to observe some details. The creature was roughly her size. Its main colors were a range of black, dark blue, red, orange and gold in elaborate designs over its body. The body was divided into three sections: head, thorax, and abdomen. Yellow and gold antennae, and mandibles tipped in black ink, protruded from a bulbous head almost completely covered by two, giant multifaceted eyes. The wasp's legs, six in all, grew out of its thorax, jutting like red-gold tree branches sparsely covered in dark blue fur. The thorax itself was a shiny black carapace, hard with streaks of red and shaped, roughly, like the gas tank of a motorcycle. Its abdomen was a broad fat bulb covered in red, gold, and yellow fur in the upper area, but tipped in ink-black sable at its bottom. It curled around so that its stinger, long, wet, penile, could enter her pussy. Emma put the circumference at three to four inches, roughly as thick as Doug's cock. It certainly stretched her walls well enough, but its length was indeterminate. The shaft penetrated deep however. Emma noted how the smooth purple stinger, shiny with her juices, would slide through her vulva until the wasp's furry tip brushed against her pussy. Her pelvis bulged with the creature's girth and then flattened as it withdrew. Emma's pussy squirted clear, wet cum with each withdrawal. A series of moans, grunts, and gasps, usually reserved for Doug and involuntary, issued from her lips. "Uuuuuunnngh! Oooohhhh! Ugh! . . . Ugh! . . . Ugh!" came forth with an almost mechanical regularity. Occasionally she would lick her lips or roll her eyes. Her body, sweat-shined, would arc or quiver with each climax. In the fleeting moments between the waves she observed the wasp. She realized something, unnoticed during the sex. "It hasn't cum yet." For all its activity, the only constant with the creature was the humping. Emma felt no corresponding climax, no sense of fluid in her womb, no wet cum between her legs other than her own. "But then, how would I know when a wasp cums?" she asked. "How do I know it hasn't cum already?" Still, the feeling the creature hadn't even begun a climax was strongly persistent. It raised another question. "How long can I last?" She'd already cum multiple times, one on top of the other. Exhaustion was near, not even Doug wore her out this way. Emma took great pride in her stamina, an easy match for Doug but not, apparently, for a giant wasp. Emma, after giving up her struggles, had spent the time laying on the rock, allowing the wasp to fuck her while she observed its activity. Now, watching its head bob from one breast to the other, she wondered, "What will it do if I touch it?" She tentatively raised her hand and touched its head. The wasp responded with a slight buzz. Emma sensed no menace. It felt more like an acknowledgment. She stroked it softly, cautiously, worrying a wrong touch would trigger a dangerous response. The wasp seemingly ignored her, focused on her breasts and pussy. She ran her fingers around its head, hard and smooth like a helmet. Even its eyes felt like a multifaceted grouping of glass lenses. Emma cautiously raised her right leg, curled, and rubbed it against the wasp's furry abdomen. The wasp reacted with a loud buzz, its pace increased, a not unpleasant feeling for Emma. "Oooo! You like that, don't you?" Emma purred. "Let's try some more." She raised her other leg and wrapped them both around the wasp's bulbous abdomen. She stroked the fur with her legs. "Okay," she said. "Let's see what it's really like to fuck a wasp." A brief alarm blared through her head, "EMMA! YOU'RE COMMITTING BESTIALITY!" Emma, as Doug well knew, was always adventurous and willing to try new things, but she drew the line at animals. Her definitions of such activities were limited to creatures like dogs or cows or some other four-legged creature, an idea so repulsive as to be unthinkable. Then again, getting fucked by a giant wasp was so far outside the realm of experience, it went beyond unthinkable to unimaginable. Reciprocating went even further, but then Emma thought, "What the hell, I'm already three quarters involved, I may as well go all the way. Who's to know, except maybe Doug. And where is he anyway?" Emma's concerns about Doug were mild for the moment. Doug was a big boy. He could take care of himself. Besides, Emma was too lost in lust to worry overmuch. Wrapping her arms around the wasp's thorax and crossing her legs around its abdomen, Emma rutted back to the insect's thrusts. The creature responded by wrapping its four lower legs around her waist and hips, and crooking its two shorter upper legs over her shoulders. The pace of its thrusts increased and the buzz grew in intensity. Emma stroked the wasp's thorax and head, but when she touched its antennae, Emma made an important discovery: wasp antennae were even more erogenous than the abdomen. The buzz turned into a roar. The water around Emma and the wasp rippled as if under the blades of an aircraft. The wings beat so furiously, Emma and her hymenopteric lover were lifted off the rock. Neither noticed so locked were they in erotic frenzy. Emma's shrieks of lust would surprise even Doug. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Come on! Uuuuggghhnnn! Come on you fucking insect! Ohhhh! Aaaauuugghhh! Ooohhh! Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me you fucking wasp! Oh fuck! Ogodogodofuck! Oh fuck! I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming!" Emma had cum before with the wasp, but the earlier orgasms were minor earthquakes compared to the seismic explosion that erupted between them. Emma came. . . and so did the wasp. Finally. Human and wasp spunk splattered the wet rock below and washed into the pool. "Oh fuck!" Emma gasped and passed out, overcome, finally, by exhaustion. She hung limply in the wasp's arms, a testament to her pioneering act of intimate human/insect contact. The wasp, itself, was tired, in spite of its stamina. This soft creature had proven to be far more cooperative than most animals, an interesting new paradigm. The creature lay beneath the wasp, breathing softly. The wasp was unsure as to its next move. The creature was useless as food. The wasp's species fed on fruit, nectar, and the occasional dead ant. Aphid juice was good too. The wasp, however, was not willing to leave the creature behind, so useful was it at helping the wasp expend sexual energy, but the creature was too heavy to carry to the nest. The wasp also did not want to tarry overlong as there were ants nearby. Moments later a solution presented itself. A humming buzz filled the air. The wasp looked upward as several of its companions flew down, curious as to the wasp's discovery. A brief communication was exchanged and a decision was made. The unconscious Emma didn't notice as insectoid arms and legs lifted her up and flew her limp body. . . to the volcano at the island's tip. . . To Be Continued.