Ms
Americana on a Tropical Island
By Barnabus
Written:
9/19-9/26/04
Revised:
x/xx/xx
(Ms Americana,
M/F, Romance)
SUBJECT:
Ms Americana is marooned on a tropical island with a
man.
WARNING:
This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.
Ms
Americana belongs to Mr. X. And she may be copyrighted, trademarked, and owned by
him. He has given me permission
to “borrow” for my own
pleasure. And in doing
so, I hope to give her a brief, but satisfying sex life that she may find
much more satisfying than her other adventures.
This is a work of fan-fiction. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided they are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind. Posting is permitted on a site requiring an ‘adult verification service’ provided it only costs a few dollars a year for access to many sites (the way "Adultcheck" used to be) and does not sell it’s mailing or membership lists, but not on an "Adultcheck Gold" site, which requires much more money. (If you do copy this story to another web page, please give me the courtesy of an e-mail, so I can see where my work is going. Who knows? Maybe you’ll introduce me to a new favorite website!)
Like most stories of this ilk, at the end of the story (unless there
is a sequel) the characters are magically returned to their original condition,
undamaged, unharmed, and unchanged in any way with no memory of the events
that have taken place. .
. It is as if the story
had never happened, because, after all, it never really
did.
The story is set in modern times.
No birth control is not used (by mutual consent) because it is not
available. However, in 'real
life’ every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave
responsibly when participating in sexual activities and he or she wishes
to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of
disease. That is, unless he
is stuck on a tropical island somewhere . . .
I appreciate your comments, both positive
and
negative.
Feedback is welcome and accepted at
barnabus329@hotmail.com.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*
Chapter 1 – on the
beach.
Ms Americana felt grit against her cheek. Slowly, she opened her eyes. There was little to see: Sand and lapping water. A beach? Slightly dizzy, the very thought of raising her head was more than she could handle. But she forced herself.
She was on a beach, with water, the ocean maybe, lapping
about 15 feet behind her. The
sand beneath her was wet, indicating that the tide must be going
out. The sun was beating down
mercilessly overhead, and she felt a touch of sunburn on her
back. Her costume was wet, but
apparently intact. Both her
mask and her golden power belt were in place, as was her red gauntlet gloves,
her red calf boots, blue choker and her tiara. Yes, her world-renowned super
heroine costume was complete and in
place. Pulling herself up to
her knees, she was suddenly hit with a wave of
vertigo. The beach extended
about 100 feet before her, where it met with lush
vegetation.
As the vertigo passed, Ms Americana focused on a shape coming from
the woods and headed toward her.
She recognized Bret, her
‘bodyguard’. This
was the first time she had seen him without his suit coat or tie, but he
still wore his shoulder holster with its .38 police
special. His shoes were
gone. There was a noticeable
square bulge under his shirt.
Mentally, she still scoffed at the idea that she might need a bodyguard,
but he had been assigned to her and the two of them were
here.
Bret plopped down beside her.
“I see you’re finally
awake. Can you understand
me? Are you all right?”
he asked.
“Of course, I’m all right,” she snapped back at what
seemed like a ridiculous question.
Then, in a softer tone, she asked, “What
happened? Where are
we?”
Bret paused, examining her eyes for a
moment. Then
answered, “We were flying
to South America on a private jet to participate in a goodwill
conference.” Ms Americana
remembered that. “Because
of your notoriety, and the instability in the region, you were assigned a
bodyguard: me! I don’t
think you cared for the idea of having a bodyguard any more than I wanted
the job. But we were stuck with each
other.” She was surprised at his perceptive analysis of the
situation.
“During the flight, we hit some
turbulence. You hit your head
on the fuselage of the plane and were knocked
unconscious. It didn’t
look like you were hit that hard, but you were out
cold!” Bret opened the
front of his shirt to remove a rectangular white box with the familiar Red
Cross on it. “I did a quick
examination of you and couldn’t find anything wrong with you . . . other
than you were unconscious, of course.
So I grabbed the first-aid kit to get some smelling
salts. But before I could do
anything, the plane must have flown under some rolled
clouds. The plane was thrown
around like a cork in the rapids.
It was all I could do to get us both strapped into our
seats. The turbulence tore off
the wings and the plane went down like a
rock. I suspect you and I were
the only survivors!”
Ms Americana was examining her head with her
fingers. She remembered being on the plane, but knew nothing of
the turbulence or the crash. There
was a bump on her head and she had a slight headache, but other
than that she felt fine. She
rose to her feet and was hit by more
dizziness. Immediately, Bret
was at her side, supporting her, but her balance
returned.
“Where are we? Do
you know?” she asked.
Bret shook his head.
“I believe we are off of the normal shipping lanes and flight
patterns, but other than that, I have no
idea.”
“And what does that mean?” Ms Americana
asked.
Bret hesitated before answering.
Ms Americana raised her eyebrows in a gesture that demanded an answer,
so he said, “The further we are from the standard shipping lanes and
flight patterns, the less likely it is that we will be
found.”
“And . . . ?”
“Let’s not start speculating at this point,” he
hedged.
“No, tell me!” Ms Americana
demanded. “What are you
saying?”
After a long hesitation, Bret
answered. “If we’re
not found by someone, then you and I may be on this island for the rest of
our lives!”
Chapter 2 – search of the
Island.
Ms Americana was in a daze as she followed Bret’s
lead. He took her to a stream of fresh water he had found and
they both drank. This location
was easy to find because there were three palm trees that identified its
location. Before he would do
anything else, took a stiletto switchblade knife from his pocket to cut some
reeds. He tore some patches
from his shirt to cleaned and service his
pistol.
After that, together they went to the beach where they made
‘SOS’ markers by stomping in the sand, then filling the marks with
palm fronds and other vegetation creating letters that would be visible to
an airplane flying overhead. They
explored the island, finding an abundance of wildlife, wild fruit, some
vegetables, tropical trees, including coconut
trees. But there no indication
of human inhabitation. As they
returned to their starting point, Bret found a cave that was big enough to
provide temporary shelter if needed.
He also collected some palm leaves to weave a simple basket and collected
some fruits and berries for their supper.
During supper, the sky quickly clouded over, and as the rain began
to fall, they took cover in the cave.
When the rains didn’t give up, eventually they lay down on the
damp floor to sleep. It was
so damp and cold, Ms Americana soon found herself shivering, and Bret came
to sit beside her, holding her and warming
her. Ms Americana was more fatigued
than she realized, for she soon fell
asleep. She awoke once during the night and realized she was sleeping
in the arms of this man who was essentially a
stranger. However, he was behaving with absolute
propriety. He was still awake,
and she realized that he couldn’t be comfortable in the position he
was in. In the dark, she lay on the floor of the cave and he lay
beside her. She fell back asleep
in his arms and they rested together, sharing their body
heat.
Chapter 3 – Setting up
housekeeping.
The next day, Bret performed a number of
tasks: He braded some vines
to make cords which he used to set snares for small
animals. He located several
broad leaf plants. He picked,
and dried leaves, then moved them to the cave to provide a dry sleeping space,
then found different dry leaves to serve as
blankets. All the time, he explained
in detail what he was doing and why.
As they went to different sites on the island, he would take her arm
to guide her around various hazards, and offered her a hand as they climbed
the hill to the highest point of the
Island. There, he assigned her
the task of finding firewood for a signal fire, if one were to be needed
to signal a passing ship. Ms
Americana did what she could to help, but she was basically a city girl,
and a rich one at that, so she knew very little about living in the
wild. Bret explained that wilderness
camping and living off the land was a hobby of his.
At lunchtime, one of Bret’s snares had captured a
rabbit. He used the stiletto
knife to skin and gut the animal.
It took Bret about half an hour before he got a fire started by rubbing
two sticks together. After that,
he cooked the rabbit and Ms Americana had one of the most delicious meals
she had ever experienced!
After lunch, they both napped for a short
time. Then they returned
to familiarizing themselves with the
island. Bret had selected two
or three possible ‘building sites’, where they could build a
house.
At first, Ms Americana scoffed at the prospect of constructing an
entire building, since surely they would be rescued within a day or
two. Bret quoted the first rule
of survival: “Always hope
you will be rescued, but make preparations anticipating a permanent
stay.”
The hours became days. They
began to build a house. Days
became a week. And they moved
into the partially completed house abandoning the damp, uncomfortable
cave. The house wasn’t
finished by any means, but it was a place that provided more comfortable
shelter than the cave. He also
created a calendar so they could measure the time
passing. And he built a crude
bow and arrows and some spears, which he used to hunt and
fish. But he really wasn’t
very successful with them. When
asked why he never used his pistol, Bret told her that he only had 17
bullets. And he was saving them
for a true emergency. As a rule, he kept his pistol near him, but he never wore
his suit coat and generally worked without a
shirt. Around this time, Ms
Americana abandoned her boots
since most of the time they were on the sandy beach and little protection
for her feet was needed.
Since physical conditioning was important to both of them, they found
time in the day to work out together.
Whereas he was not a match for Ms Americana, she was impressed that
he was in much better shape than she had
expected. Also, she began to
notice and admire his rippling muscles as he exercised.
Ms Americana felt her super strength was totally useless in this
situation. Although she had
the strength of ten ‘Brets’, her strength contributed very little
to their survival, when compared to Bret’s ingenuity and
creativity. Gradually she began
to drop her usually haughty and arrogant attitude as she realized that it
was Brad’s skills and strengths that would be saving their lives, not
her power and strength.
With a smile, Bret challenged her to an arm-wrestling
contest. At first she
refused. But finally, she
agreed. Of course, she beat
him soundly.
Isolated, and being forced to work together, the two of them began
to develop some chemistry between them.
To be sure, each performed certain tasks, alone which allowed separation
between them. But generally,
they would at least four hours each day building their house. Several times
each day, they would go to ‘lookout point’, the highest place on
the island, to search the horizon to see if any ships were in
sight.
They found a small mirror in the first-aid kit, which they hung to
a tree near their house.
Thus if they saw any airplanes, they could try to use the mirror to
flash at the planes and attract their
attention.
Although Bret did most of the ‘hunting’, they shared the
tasks of gathering berries and vegetables and preparing meals, generally
having supper in the mid –to-late
afternoon. Their relationship
had developed into a cooperative and almost affectionate
relationship. Then they would
spend time talking, or walking around ‘their’ island, sometimes
swimming together or watching the
sunset. Occasionally, Bret took
Ms Americana’s hand, holding it for a few
moments. At the end of the day, he took her hand and kissed it
as they said good night and moved to their separate sleeping
quarters. Soon, they were walking,
hand in hand, throughout the paradise they had somehow
inherited. And he would kiss her ‘goodnight’ as the sun
set. Initially the kisses were
on the forehead. But as time
progressed, his kisses moved down her
cheek. And the evening came
when they both kissed each other’s cheek, but neither moved away from
the other. They just stared
at each other, and with some unspoken agreement, their lips moved toward
each other. It was a feather-light
kiss, and both backed off
self-consciously. Both of them
knew that their relationship was changing, and both felt
uncomfortable.
Backing away, Ms Americana took his hand, and led him back to their “dining room”. There, they sat and she told him things she had never told a man. She revealed that, as a child, she had been adopted into a tremendously wealthy family. Although she was naturally athletic, the golden power belt enhanced her strength and endurance at least five fold, and provides her with certain protection from attacks. The power belt had allowed her to become a superheroine. With it, she was granted super strength and speed, which aided her in her career as a crime fighter.
But, she confided to him, there was a price she had to pay for her
super strength. Her super strength
was associated with accumulated sexual
frustration. Any time she orgasmed, her super strength would be gone
for several hours whether she wore her power belt or
not. Since she never knew when she was likely to be called
upon to use her super powers, it was necessary for her to avoid any kind
of active sex life, so that her super strength would always be available
when she needed it. She
couldn’t even masturbate.
That was why she was committed to a celibate life
style. Sex of any kind was forbidden
to her. The only times she had
had sex since she had become Ms Americana had been when she had been
raped. And that had been more
often that she wanted to think about.
Ms Americana was totally taken aback when Bret observed, “But
on this island, there is no need for a
crime-fighter. Your super powers
are not used here at all, are they?
You have no need to use your super powers.”
Dumbfounded, Ms Americana had no
answer. She had intended this
conversation to explain to Bret why she could not participate in any kind
of sexual liaison. But she
recognized the truth in what he had
said. She mutely allowed him
to take her to her sleeping area, where he kissed her lips chastely and said
good night.
Chapter 4 – A
proposal.
Neither Bret nor Ms Americana spoke much during the next couple of
days as they went about their daily
chores. Ms Americana spent a
great deal of time thinking about how her powers were not needed or used
on this Island. And since there
was no need to maintain her powers, there really was no necessity for her
to continue to live a chaste life style.
Evenings were spent quietly, there being little conversation over
supper. Then they would watch
the sun set, and each went to his own sleeping area.
On the third day, as they sat on the beach as the sun went down, Bret
finally broke their silence.
“You know, it’s awfully difficult on me to be this close
to you for so much of the time and not hit on you.”
Ms Americana had very mixed emotions about what he had
said. She knew it was headed
toward the bedroom. But why
shouldn’t it? Bret was
attractive. And he had always
behaved like an ideal gentleman.
That was until he began this
conversation.
But the more she thought about it, the less justification she could
find for her to continue a celibate life style, at least while they were
on this Island.
“Why would you suddenly want to hit on me?” she asked casually,
almost innocently.
“You’ve got to be joking!” he responded
dryly.
“Joking?” she asked.
Ticking items off on his fingers, he stated, “Firstly, you have
a unique and unspoiled beauty.
Secondly, although you admit you have been raped, you radiate an aura
of purity and innocence.
Thirdly, your amazing smile is so bright and beautiful, it sets you
apart from almost every woman I have ever
met. Fourthly, your eyes are
probably the most enormous blue spheres I have ever
seen! Fifthly, we’ve been
in each other’s company exclusively ever since we arrived on this
island. And . . .
“
Again, Ms Americana was astonished at the detail of his
expression. “And.
. . ?” she inquired, becoming anxious to know what else he might add
to the list.
Bret smiled at her.
“Well, it’s rather obvious that you are probably the only
woman in a thousand miles or so.
And your costume does very little to conceal . . . shall we say .
. . the better points of your physique.”
In the ‘real world’, Ms Americana would have no difficulty
in resisting the temptations he was laying before
her. Back in civilization, his
complements could roll off like water off the back of a duck, and she could
always turn and walk away. Back
in the ‘civilized world’, she could not permit herself personal
pleasure or allow herself to submit to the weakness of the
flesh.
But here, with the two of them marooned on a tropical island, she
was frightened and nervous. She
wasn’t frightened of the situation, but she was frightened because of
her reaction to it. She could
feel her own physical response to his
statements. There was no compelling
need for her to remain pure while on this
island.
“In the time we’ve been here,” he continued, “we
have never seen a passing ship or heard an airplane fly
overhead. It appears we are
going to be here for a long
time.” Again he hesitated.
“And I’m attracted to you so much that I don’t want
to our relationship to remain formal and
proper. In a word, the longer
things remain the way they have been, the more my intentions will become
strictly dishonorable. And
eventually, you might be called upon to use your super powers to fight me
off!”
“You are too much of a gentleman to treat me or any woman
disrespectfully,” Ms Americana
answered. “I cannot believe
you would do anything that would dishonor
me.” She wondered why she
was talking so formally, using such stilted
language. But then she
realized, she always used stilted language, especially when
she was lecturing criminals. Why
was she talking to Bret like this?
Somehow, she had to complete the idea she had
started. “And outside the
bonds of marriage, there is no way for a man and woman to honorably be intimate
with each other.” Was she
too old-fashioned in what she was
saying? Was she placing unreasonable
criteria before
him?
The two of them sat in silence.
The sun had disappeared and a full moon was
rising. Ms Americana was feeling
very aroused by this impossible
conversation. There was no reason
why occasional sex couldn’t be permitted within the environs of this
place. Bret was handsome, well
built, physically fit, and undoubtedly would be an excellent
lover. And she really liked
him. Maybe she even
loved him. Sex
with him? she wondered.
Maybe!
Yes! Why
not?
Ms Americana was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she missed
his next question to her. And
only subliminally, did it slowly work its way into her conscious
mind.
“What did you say?” she asked, eyes wide, staring at him
in the moonlight.
He rose and knelt by her side, taking her hand in his, kissing it
gently. Then looking deeply
into her eyes with a sincerity that almost frightened her, he repeated his
question.
“Will you marry me?”
Ms Americana simply stared at him, unable to formulate any thoughts,
let alone an answer.
“I . . . I . . . I . . . can’t,” she
stammered. “We barely know
each other! And maybe we’ll
be rescued soon and I’ll have to return to my crime
fighting. Being married
would . . . rob me . . . of
the super powers that I need.”
She could see disappointment on his
face. But he didn’t release
her hand. Finally, “I
understand.” He kissed
her hand again. “And, of
course, you are right. When
you return to civilization, there is no way that you can have any kind of
marital relationship and continue as a
superheroine. As for us, all
we know about each other is what we have learned while we have been on this
island. Aside from that, we
know almost nothing about each other.
“But that’s enough for me!” he
concluded. “I will
promise to love, honor and cherish you . . . for as long as the two
of us are alone on this island?”
She looked at him, keeping quiet.
This had suddenly become a very intimate
conversation. She couldn’t
remember the last time she had been able to share intimacy with a
man! In her heart, she believed
she was really a highly sexed
individual. At least, that’s
the way she felt right now!
And this conversation, combined with the possibility
that they might become physically intimate was stimulating her
incredibly! They were
alone on this island, freed from the responsibilities and duties
of normal life. There was no
way to predict when . . . or if . . . they would be rescued
from this paradise. Irrationally,
she suddenly wanted to rip off his clothes and make love to him right where
they were. But being rational,
she couldn’t.
Feeling her hesitation, he spoke.
“I have fallen in love with you,” he
said. And if I cannot have you
for the rest of our lives, I will agree to accept you for only as long as
we are on this island. Who knows,
maybe it will be for the rest of our
lives.”
Ms Americana’s heart skipped a
beat! He had said he was in
love with her! No man had ever
said that to her in seriousness before! Sure, when she was in school, some of the geeks threw
the word around, trying to get into her
pants. But the way he said it
was different! She believed
him. Even though they’d
only known each other a few weeks, she felt a bond with
him. And if they were rescued,
he understood that their relationship would have to end.
But for now, it was just the two of
them! A man and a
woman!
Alone! Separated from
the world. With only each
other! But a marriage, even
a temporary marriage, involved certain . . .
responsibilities . . . certain
obligations. Of course it would
include sex: that was
assumed.
But on the other hand, as his wife, she would enjoy as much sex as
she wanted. She had always craved
sex: hot sweaty sex in a proper
bed! Repeated
sex. More
sex. Passionate, satisfying,
orgasmic sex! And while they
were on this island, she could have it.
She could have it ALL!
She felt sexy! Really
sexy! But sex involved
responsibilities! And
consequences! ‘Having it all’
would most likely include
pregnancy. She was in her 30’s, and the possibility of
having a child with Brad both excited and frightened
her. She had been impregnated
once as a result of being raped, but the baby had spontaneously aborted before
she could come to a decision about what to do about
it. She had given up on ever
having a husband, let alone being a
mother. But the prospect of
married life with Brad free from the concerns of the ‘outside world’
suddenly opened the floodgates of maternal desires that she had repressed
for years. And suddenly, with
every fiber in her being, she wanted a
baby! She wanted Brad’s
baby!
(Where in the world had that thought come
from? A superheroine can’t
take the time out to carry a child to term, let alone the demands of raising
a child. That would go on for
years! She would be
fifty before the child had grown up and she could return to
a life as a superheroine.)
But, to be perfectly honest, the prospect of having continuous,
legitimate, mutually consensual sex with Brad was turning her on more than
she cared to admit!
Her decision had been made.
She didn’t know when or why or
how. But she
knew! She raised his hand to
her lips and gently kissed it.
“I promise you now,” she began, “that I will love,
honor and cherish you for as long as the two of us are on this
island! But, I suspect, if we
are not rescued soon, after nine months or so, the two of us will no longer
be alone on this island!”
An enormous smile spread over Brad’s handsome, craggy
face. “And I promise you
that I will love, honor and cherish you , . . and protect you
. . . for as long as we are on this island!”
And with those words, the deed was done!
They both knelt in the sand facing each other and kissed each other
slowly, languorously, and passionately.
When the kiss ended, Ms Americana rose to her feet and drew him up
to a standing position.
“And now,” she stated almost matter of factly, “If
we are going to begin a life together, it is probably time for
bed!”
Chapter 5 – consummation!
No matter how cavalier she tried to make it sound, Ms Americana approached
her sleeping area, and her wedding night timidly and almost
fearfully. She had never really
had a boyfriend or a lover. In
school she had fooled around a little, but never gone ‘all the
way’. (Her father had died when she was a
child. And her mother had always
warned her that any boy she dated might only be interested in her
money.) As an adult, she had
given up her virginity on a one-night-stand with a man she didn’t even
know. She had spent the night with him and he had fucked her
three times. That was when she
learned that sex negated the strength she gained from her power
belt. Since she was committed
to her life as a crime fighter, she had assiduously avoided romantic involvements
since then.
Brad knew that she was wealthy.
She had told him that. He
also knew that she was Ms Americana, but still he didn’t know her other
identity. At 6 feet, 1 inch tall, she was slightly taller than
Brad. Obviously, she knew that
he had to be attracted to her full figured and shapely
body. (She had often used her
physical attractiveness to distract villains, even taunt
them!) And her red, white and
blue bikini costume had been designed to be provocative to
men.
And during the time they had been on the island
together, she had caught him gazing longingly at her bikini-clad
figure. But he never seemed
to dwell on her physical attributes.
Rather, he always treated her like an equal, conferring with her,
speaking with her, confiding with her.
In short, there was nothing in their present situation to indicate
that his intentions involved anything other than being with her . . . other
than being her . . .
husband!
If she happened to possess a drop-dead body for him to enjoy, so much
the better. And she had to admit
that he was pretty well built, himself!
Brad’s heart was beating like a
trip-hammer! He had asked her
to go to bed with him, and after very few objections, she had
agreed. And, she had invited
him to her bed. He had been
surprised that it had been so easy.
But then again, he always knew that every woman has her price, even
if that price might be a wedding
ring. In Ms Americana’s
case, it had been a symbolic wedding, and she had accepted
it. She was even talking about
children already. Brad was in
no hurry to have children, but he was eager to join in the process that might
produce them! He wanted to partake
of the joys of conception! And
at least for the time being, he chose not take into account the pangs and
inconveniences of childbirth!
Hand in hand, they entered the house and approached her sleeping
area. Ms Americana looked down
at the mat of dry fonds that Bret had made for her
bed. The light of the full moon
poured in through the window opening, making the room almost as light as
day time.
She felt like a
virgin! True, she had given up her virginity, and Ms Americana
had been raped on several occasions. Physically, her virginity was long
gone. But approaching her wedding
night, she felt timid, shy, fearful, and even
apprehensive. She felt like
a virgin!
They kissed again, slowly, sensuously,
hungrily! Both knew what they
were about to do. Both of them
knew that neither would back out.
There was no hurry.
As the kiss ended, Bret held her away from
him and gazed at her, drinking in the beauty of the woman standing before
him. Slowly, he drew off one
of her gloves. Undressing the
woman he was about to screw was one of the great pleasures of Bret’s
life! Every item of clothing
he removed added to his anticipation of their final
coupling.
“Is there anything . . . special . .
. that you want?” he asked, dropping her second
glove.
“Special?” she asked,
confused.
“Do you want me to do anything
. . .special . . . unusual?” he asked, trying to explain and not succeeding
very well.
Suddenly, she realized what he was asking,
and he could see her deep blush, even in the
moonlight. She shook her head, eyes
downward. “Just treat me like . . . an inexperienced partner
. . . and tell me that you really are in love with me!”
she whispered. Her breathing
was coming faster now.
Love!
Love and marriage, and freedom from having to maintain her super
powers! Those were her
buttons! As long as he could
keep pushing them, Brad knew she was
his! And those
breasts! Those
hips! That narrow
waist! He was going to enjoy
this! But first, he had to finish
peeling the tomato.
He nodded, and turned her around, found the
clasp holding her bra in place, and unfastened it in the
moonlight. When it loosened,
Ms Americana turned to face him, raising her hands to the shoulder straps
and, almost innocently, drew them down her arms, revealing her 44DD breasts
to his wide spread eyes. He
had known that she was enormous, but even so, he was overwhelmed by the
magnificent mounds topped with areolas that were the size of half dollars
and large, erect nipples that pointed directly at him!
His hands moved to the waistband of her bikini
bottoms, and he pulled them down slowly, dropping to his knees before
her. As soon as he discovered
the brief thong beneath her uniform, he took the thong down along with her
briefs. Self consciously, she
stepped out of her briefs. And
he leaned forward to gently kiss her carefully trimmed
bush. Her neat bush
hadn’t been tended since they arrived on the island, so it was getting
a little bristly around the edges.
She sank to her knees before him, taking his
arms in her hands. Again, he
put his arms around her and drew her to
him. She was panting and shaking
with fear and anticipation. He left her mask, tiara, choker, and power belt
in place.
“I’m afraid I don’t have
protection,” he whispered, apologetically.
“I understand,” she
replied. “If we’re in this for the long run, I don’t
think that will matter. Besides,
no one ever used protection with me
before.” She regretted
the words as soon as they were out of her
mouth. What she had intended
to reassure him, was a pretty nasty slap in his
face. But if he noticed her
slight, he said nothing.
He sat back on his haunches, and silently
pushed his pants down to his knees.
Ms Americana averted her eyes.
She was afraid that if she looked, she might start comparing him with
someone else. And she wanted
this evening to be unique between Bret and
her. He sat to the side and
slid his pants off.
Putting his arm around her again, they reclined on the mat,
kissing. His hand slid up her
side to cup her breast, causing her to
gasp. The kiss ended, and he
rose above her and stared at the breast he had captured in his
hand.
Looking into her eyes, he captured her nipple between his
fingers. “They’re
marvelous! Truly amazing!”
and he rolled her nipple between his fingers, causing her to
whimper. He looked down at the
glorious mounds before him and asked, “May I kiss
them?”
She was breathing fast, almost panting as he rolled her
nipple. But somehow she managed
to say, “Of course! We
belong to each other. You can
do anything you want! Mmmmmm,
that’s nice!”
Bret’s lips had possessively captured
her nipple and he sucked it into his
mouth. Electricity seemed
to flow through Ms Americana’s body, centering on her breasts and between
her legs. He sucked harder,
drawing more of her breast into his mouth, and she raised a hand to the back
of his head, pulling his mouth to her, and arching her back, offering even
more of her breast to his hungry mouth. But of course, her breasts were much too big for him to
get very much between his lips.
But he was able to roll her nipple between his tongue and the rough
ridges on the roof of his mouth.
Ms Americana whimpered again, and her hand fell to her side as if
paralyzed.
She had acknowledged his ownership of
her. But Brad knew he still
had to maintain the game. He
had to keep pressing the right buttons.
His hand moved down her side to her hip, and slid to cover her
mound. Innocently, her legs
parted slightly, granting him access.
He separated her lips and found the entrance to her holy of
holies.
“I’ve wanted you since before we even met,” he confessed,
himself breathing hard. “I
don’t think I can wait much
longer!” Brad was
HOT! He simply wanted to fuck
her brains out! But with infinite
self-control, he presented himself as a modest suppliant, essentially asking
her permission to continue. It
worked!
She whispered, “Then don’t
wait!” And she put a hand
on his hip, urging him to move on top of
her. With a sudden intake of
breath, she felt him come to rest between her thighs.
Bret gave a strangled sound as he found his way between her petals,
and paused. Looking down on
her wide blue eyes staring at him through her mask, and haloed by her ebony
hair, once more, he drank in her beauty.
“Do it, my love!” she begged, “and
do it quickly!” She was
gasping and panting in anticipation.
What more could he want?
She was begging him to slip her the old
joystick. And certainly no gentlemen
would refuse such an impassioned plea from such a beautiful
maiden.
She gasped as he thrust into her.
She arched her body, uncertain how to respond as he probed her
depths. He started slowly, pressing
in and out of her wonderfully tight palace of pleasure with a steady rhythm,
her large, well formed breasts bouncing as he took
her. They described complete
circles as they moved in perfect harmony with the movement of his
pelvis. But his excitement was
too great. He couldn’t
sustain it. Soon he was frantically
hammering her and she grasped him, holding him against her as he pounded
repeatedly into her.
Without warning, he seized and
screamed. She felt him pulsing
inside of her. And soon
he collapsed on top of her, panting, gasping, and clutching her to
him. He began shrinking inside
of her, and she felt a wetness leaking out from
her. She hadn’t been sure
what to expect, so she wasn’t disappointed that she hadn’t
climaxed. But he began whispering
into her ear, and the things he said were
wonderful! He held her close
and spoke endearments to her. And
somehow, his words affected her more than anything she had ever experienced
before. He didn’t say anything
world-shaking. Nothing that
was even memorable. But his
words seemed to talk to her soul, making her feel cherished, valued,
important, and yes, they made her feel
loved! Still holding
her tightly, he slipped from her, and she felt a new flux of wetness pour
out of her.
But he remained lying on top of her, holding
her close, whispering expressions of love to her that thrilled
her.
Soon, she felt him beginning to grow between
her legs. He stopped talking
to give her a deep kiss. She
pressed her breasts against his chest and returned his kiss, their tongues
beginning the ancient ritual. And
he grew even harder. He moved
lightly away from her so he could align himself with her vagina, and once
again slowly pressed into her.
This time was less frantic, and he allowed himself to take longer,
giving her time to catch up. He wasn’t doing anything to force her toward
orgasm, which was something new to her.
He was simply loving her, and she felt his love in every
thrust. After what seemed like a long time, Bret
climaxed. Ms Americana had enjoyed
being loved by him, and thought maybe she had orgasmed with
him. But somehow she wasn’t
certain.
She continued to hold him close to
her! She had been fucked
before. And she had been orgasmed
before. But never before had
she felt like she was truly making
love!
They lay entangled in the bed, and eventually
dozed off in each other’s arms.
During the night, Ms Americana awoke to a
marvelous sensation, which she came to recognize as a combination of Bret’s
lips sucking on her breast, and his fingers gently massaging her
mons. As if in a dream, she
lay there, simply enjoying the attention he was giving her, and she realized
that her body was growing more excited in response to his
ministrations. Although
her vagina still was damp with the residue of his semen, she could actually
feel herself growing wetter as his fingers caressed her, stimulating her,
lifting her, exciting her!
Without thought, her legs opened as he moved
over her, her welcoming thighs spreading themselves as he moved to her, entering
her so gently she almost swooned.
Still half asleep, she permitted her body to respond to his without
conscious thought. And, ultimately,
it was her own orgasm that finally woke her up.
Again, feeling the evidence of his love seeping
from her, they fell deeply asleep in each other’s
arms.
Chapter 6 – the morning
after.
Gradually, the sunlight seeped into Bret’s
consciousness. He rose to
wakefulness, feeling the pleasant warmth of another body close to
his. Slowly, he opened his eyes
and found Ms Americana lying next to him, her cheek propped on her hand,
watching him with an idyllic expression on her
face. How long had she been watching him sleep, he wondered,
as he reached out and drew her to him for a gentle, good morning
kiss.
“Have you been awake long?” he asked.
“A little while,” she
answered. She had drawn a cover
over them to protect them from the cool night
air. But one of her lovely breasts
was exposed. He extended his
lips and made a kissing sound toward her breast, and she leaned forward,
guiding her nipple to his mouth.
Without moving, he gently sucked on her for about a minute, before
he stopped and kissed her breast.
She returned to her side, again, propping her cheek on her
hand.
“What should I fix you for
breakfast?” She
asked.
Bret reached out for her and drew her to him until her chest was on
top of his. “I don’t
know,’ he responded.
“I’ll have to think about
it.” And he kissed her
ear. She rubbed her face against
him like a cat, and kissed his cheek. He rolled the two of them over, inverting
their positions so that he was on top of her and she was on her
back. They continued their kiss as his hand found and encircled
her breast, gently massaging it as he sought and found her
nipple. Again, he rolled her
nipple gently between his fingers.
His kisses worked their way down her neck,
over her collarbone, to her breast and eventually he once again laid claim
to her nipple, sucking possessively, but not overly
aggressively. With one hand,
she supported her breast to steady it for his
use. And she arched her back,
pressing her nipple into his mouth
again. His hand was freed and he slid it down over her stomach,
massaging her pubis, until he was parting her lips, sliding a finger along
her slit and gently caressing her clit.
Her intake of breath was audible and her physical response was immediate
and assertive, rolling her hips against his invading
finger. And he could feel her
beginning to lubricate almost immediately.
Still sucking on her nipple, he positioned
himself between her legs, and his finger was replaced with something
larger. Again, she gasped as
he made his way into her. She
was still wonderfully tight and he noticed she was getting beginning to learn
little sexual tricks that brought pleasure to them
both. And for a moment, he noticed
a new taste in his mouth, but only for a
moment. He began a slow, forceful
pumping into her willing body.
Releasing her nipple, once again, he enjoyed her beauty as he made
love to her. She was beginning to experiment with her own reactions to their
sex, by rolling her hips upward to meet his thrusts, increasing the sensations
for both of them and encouraging him to thrust deeper into
her.
Ah, yes!
Morning fucks were truly the
best! He was going to enjoy
taking her when they first woke, probably more than at any other time of
the day. She was going to be
his appetizer before breakfast. And he couldn’t think of a better way to start the
day. Both of them achieved pleasant
orgasms, and remained wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying the
afterglow.
“Hmmmmm,” she moaned as his limp
member slipped from her. “I
guess you wanted to have me for
breakfast.” They both smiled
at her comment.
Later, they had a leisurely
breakfast. And once again, Bret
challenged her to arm wrestle.
Knowing that having been orgasmed, her strength would be considerably
reduced, Ms Americana tried to refuse, but Bret
insisted. Today, for the first
time, Bret won! But she was
still very strong and it took considerable effort on his part to beat
her.
Chapter 7 – the relationship
grows.
During the next few days, Ms Americana moved
happily about her chores, humming and singing to herself as she cooked or
cleaned the house, or when she gathered material for the
construction. She was totally
immersed in a honeymoon mode.
Although Bret insisted that they continue work, they would frequently
pause in their tasks to kiss, and sometimes they stopped their activity to
make love. After supper, they
didn’t bother to watch the sun set that
night. Rather they moved their
bedding to the front porch where they could spend the night in the light
of the almost full moon. After
they made love, they lay basking in the afterglow, both naked, except for
her mask, tiara and belt. As
she ran her hand down his bare chest, she reflected that he had never asked
her to remove her mask. And
if they were to remain together, she knew she had to give him her complete
trust in everything.
“I have something to show you,”
she said, rousing him from his relaxed state. She removed her belt, laying
it aside. Then she removed her
mask so that he could see all of
her. He was struck that her
face was even more beautiful than he
imagined. She lay next to him,
cradling her face in the soft place on his chest and told him about how her
father had died. She revealed
her name to him and the fact that she had inherited the entire Wade fortune,
including all of the electronics empire.
But he couldn’t take his eyes from her face and her big blue
eyes. Indeed, he worshipped her
beauty. And of course, this led to sex again.
When they rose the next morning, at Bret’s
request, neither dressed, but they spent the day doing their work without
clothes. Around mid-morning,
Bret was working on the exterior of the house while Brenda, Ms Americana,
was carrying some supplies to him.
As she set the supplies down, Bret stopped his activities and was
watching her intently with long, languorous, appreciative
concentration. She stood and
faced him, running her tongue over her lips, hiding nothing from his
view. She was pleased with his
attention. And she felt a wicked
pleasure from giving him an unabashed full-frontal display of her
body!
Such a frank display of her beauty had its
effect on him, and he began rising to
erection. She gave him a knowing
smile, stepped up to him and softly wrapped her fingers around his growing
erection, taking his breath away.
Staggered by her boldness, he allowed her to lead him into the woods,
using his penis as a leash to show him the
way. She took him to a soft
bower leaves under a tree, where Bret was positioned on his back and she
straddled him. She relaxed the
grip of her hand only as her vagina slid over him, grasping his manhood in
a very different way. Passively,
Bret watched her magnificent body as she made love to him, riding up and
down, her breasts bouncing before him.
He admired the focused concentration on her face as she was learning
more and more about making love with a
man: how to better stimulate
him, how to better stimulate herself, things she needed to do to help herself
approach orgasm, how to take charge, when to remain
passive. They both screamed
as they climaxed together.
Eventually, they recovered sufficiently to
reluctantly return to their work.
Of course, as the day continued, their nudity
in each other’s presence led to distractions, and several times, the
two of them took a break and returned to the soft bower in the
woods.
They arm-wrestled each day at Bret’s request, and as he expected,
the reduction of her physical strength was
cumulative: The more they made
love, the more sated she became, the weaker she
was. True, she was still a
magnificent specimen of female.
But she was definitely no longer a super
female.
After a week, their honeymoon was still going
strong! According to Bret’s count, they had made love at
least three times each day, and on some days, they had made love as many
as six times. They would have
done it more, but after six orgasms, Bret was physical unable to
perform. So they would spend
their time cuddling.
After the seventh day, she told him her period was
beginning. Normally, this
wouldn’t affect his sexual desires, but he took this opportunity to
agree to wait until her ‘monthlies’ were over before they had sex
again. But during the next few
days, he insisted she wear her power
belt. They spent time
cuddling. She offered him her
breasts, and he nursed, but he carefully avoided bringing her to
orgasm. He was pleasantly surprised to learn that she was lactating
and found that when he drank her milk, he became considerably
stronger. In short, he refused
to have sex with her, he didn’t bring her to orgasms, and he carefully
avoided feeding her sexual satisfaction during this
period. Indeed, he wanted her
sexual frustration levels to increase.
But, she used the time to service him both orally and
manually. Each morning, they
arm-wrestled. He wanted to know
if the lack of actual sex or orgasm for several days permitted her strength
to return. When her period started,
there was no residue of super strength left in her
body. But as the days passed, he noticed that it was becoming
more and more difficult to defeat her in arm
wrestling. Slowly, she was regaining
her strength!
After a few days, she informed him that her cycle was almost over,
and drew him back to her bed, where they slowly, lovingly, and passionately
made love, both achieving exceedingly satisfying
orgasms. He told her how much
he had missed having sex with her these past few
days. To reward his patience
in abstaining these past few days, Ms. American drew him to her again and
this led to wild passionate, sweaty sex, culminating in mind-blowing orgasms
for both of them.
Afterward, Ms Americana fell
asleep. She slept soundly and
didn’t feel him get up to leave her bed.
Chapter 8 – betrayal!
He went to the three palms, where they had first landed on the
island. Finding the correct
place he began digging and within minutes he had uncovered a carefully wrapped
radio. Giving the caller
identification, he made contact with someone on the other
end.
“You can come and get her,” he said
into the microphone. “She
has only the strength of a normal woman
now. Keep in mind that she is
probably in as good condition as an Olympic
athlete. But give me until noon
tomorrow before you come.
I’d like to have a little more fun.”
His message was acknowledged, and once again,
he returned the radio to its hiding place.
The next morning, Bret and Ms Americana made love when they
woke. After breakfast, they
made love again. He asked her
to wear her costume that day, and she
complied. But, as an act of
love, she gave her power belt to him.
She wouldn’t need it as long as they were on the island
together.
During the morning, they resumed their work as
normal. They only paused once during the morning to have
sex.
At noon, they heard the whir of helicopter
rotors. And to Ms. Americana’s amazement and excitement,
the helicopter landed on the beach, near their
house. Immediately, the aircraft
disgorged half a dozen heavily armed men who quickly surrounded
her. Ms. Americana was so excited
at the prospect of being rescued that she ran toward the invaders, babbling
an explanation of how they had been marooned on the
island. Her explanation was
suddenly cut short as one man stepped behind her, snapping a handcuff around
her wrist. Stupefied, she was
slow to react as her other wrist was also cuffed behind her
back. Of course, she had none of her super strength and
didn’t even have her power belt in her possession, so it was not difficult
for them to effect her capture.
Handcuffed, she was herded into the
helicopter.
It was not until she was seated between two
of her captors was and the helicopter airborne that Ms Americana realized
that Bret, sitting across from her, apparently was not a
prisoner. In fact, he was conversing
comfortably with her captors, her power belt lying across his
lap.
“Bret!” she
implored.
Bret gave her an apologetic
look. “I’m sorry,
Brenda. But I’m with
them.”
Unbelieving she asked, “And you just
turned me over to them?”
“I’m afraid so,” he
replied.
”But we’re . . . married,” She stated in total
disbelief. “You promised
to love, honor and cherish me!.
And protect me!”
“I promised for as long as we were on the island,” he
said. “I
do love you! And
I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve been
together. But now, I’ve
completed the job I was hired to do.
It’s time to pick up my pay check and go on to the next
job.”
Ms Americana couldn’t believe her
ears. “I was just a
‘job’ for you?
Everything that happened between us was just a
‘job’?”
Bret nodded.
Ms Americana hadn’t been strapped into her
seat. Her eyes burned at Bret
like coals in a fire. Suddenly, she lunged at me, trying to give him a head-butt
to the nose and screaming, “You
son-of-a-bitch!” Expecting
some sort of reaction, Bret turned away, avoiding the brunt of her
attack.
Immediately the thugs on either side of her
grabbed her and pulled her back, strapping her into her
seat. Manacles were fastened around her
ankles.
Struggling, Ms Americana poured invectives
upon Brad. “What you did
was worse than raping me.
You raped my mind, my soul, my very
spirit!”
“It didn’t seem like rape to
me. You seemed to enjoy
it.”
Affectionately, Bret tried to brush a loose
lock of hair back over her ear.
She turned away from him.
“Don’t touch me, you prick!” she shouted and kicked
at him with her manacled feet. She
didn’t connect because the ankle chains were bolted to the
floor.
Responding to her repeated violence, one of the thugs sitting beside
her produced a small case containing a hypodermic, which he jabbed into her
leg. “Nooooooo!” she
screamed as soon as she realized what was happening and it took both thugs
to restrain her while the sedative took
effect. Glaring at Bret as her
muscles relaxed, she spat out, “I will never permit you to lay your
hands on me again!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Bret
said. “I was planning on
talking with my employer to see if I could stay on, using my skills to keep
you from regaining your powers.
And then, to visit you from time to time . . . . afterwards . . .
“ His words trailed off
ambiguously. Then, snapping
back to the present, he continued, “You were
good. I mean, really
good!”
Then, sighing with resignation, he continued, “But if you refuse
to give me your charms, we both know you are familiar with being
raped. And I think I would enjoy
that, too!”
Ms Americana stared at the man who she had thought was her
husband. She was too hurt to
be angry. And somehow, the prospect
of being raped by Bret hurt her even more than his betrayal
had.
The sedative continued relaxing her
muscles. Finally, having difficulty
forming her words, she asked, “How much was I
worth?”
“I will receive a half million for
you!”
“A half million, is that all I’m
worth?”
“No, you’re definitely worth a lot
more. I realize that now,”
Bret answered. “But that
was the price agreed upon.”
Ms Americana sat in stunned
silence. She could still feel
traces of his semen seeping from her, a reminder of their last love making
session.
The helicopter rotors whirred as the aircraft
sped toward it’s destination.
The end
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