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(With editing and critical input by “larryinseattle” without whom my stories would never be as good.)
Rachel sat on the beach watching the flare soar into the sky. It rose higher and higher, then seemed to hang there for the briefest of moments before dropping down into the sea. Inwardly she wondered if maybe, just maybe, this time someone would see it.
It was the fourth rocket she and Dennis had sent up since arriving on their little piece of the ocean, three months before. The island, actually an atoll according to Dennis, was virtually barren of anything usable. A few scrub trees and bushes eked out a meager existence while everything else was covered in a stiff grass. It was only because of Dennis’s ingenuity that they had survived at all.
Slowly, everything faded around her as she remembered how it had all begun. Like many from her hometown in Ireland, she sought a better life. In her case that meant the pursuit of the love of cooking. See had been educated in Ireland, Europe, and the US where she had fallen in love.
Jeremy was a culinary student just like she was. They met in school and their relationship had blossomed. They maintained an on-going competition as to who was the best chef and their standing went back and forth throughout school. After graduation, they married just as everyone had expected but within months, things began to change. She quickly obtained a position at a prestigious restaurant located on the “Upper East Side” while he struggled to find anything other then infrequent catering jobs.
The final straw came when she was offered a job on a cruise ship that set sail for the islands of the Caribbean almost weekly. He found the letter on the kitchen table and flew into a violent tirade before she even had a chance to tell him that she wasn’t going to take the position so she could stay with him.
By the time she was released from the hospital she had decided the “Big Apple” wasn’t for her any longer. Possibly due to her Irish heritage and love of the sea, she soon found herself looking for jobs on any ship that was leaving the area. After just two days, she was hired onto a medium-sized sailing ship that was heading down the coast to Florida. Throughout the day, she worked as a deck-hand but at meal time she dazzled the owner and crew with her cooking. For the next several weeks they sailed ‘The Keys’ and the Caribbean and it was only when the owner told them that it was time to ‘head back North’ that she knew her time with them was done.
Disembarking on St. Croix, she soon found herself yet another job, this one in a Caribbean diner, but something was missing and each time she looked out at the sea, she knew what it was. Just two brief months later, she quit to take a job on a yacht heading for the Pacific. The cruise was uneventful since it was a corporately owned ship and she spent many hours in the galley perfecting what she had learned on St. Croix.
When the crew was discharged, she found herself half way around the world on the docks of Santa Barbara, California. For the next week she acted like a tourist, taking in the sights and sounds of the city, but each morning she felt the draw of the sea getting stronger and stronger until once again she was on the docks looking for a job.
As fate would have it, she had just entered a small, local diner that provided food for the working staff of the various yachts when an ‘old salt’ of a captain walked in and took a seat. The owner of the diner, obviously a friend, came over and took a seat beside him. For the next 15 minutes they made small-talk until she heard the captain ask the owner, “You don’t know of a cook that’s looking for a job do you? My usual guy got into a bit of a tussle and his wrist is broken.” The owner shook his head and Rachel decided now was the time to act.
Standing, she walked up to the captain and announced in a full Irish brogue, “I don’ kno’ abou’ a co’k ba’ I kno’ of a chef.”
“And who might that be?”
“ME,” she replied.
The captain gave her a ‘once over’ before saying, “Prove it.”
She stood there until she noticed a glance pass between the captain and the owner. A slight nod was all it took and she headed for the kitchen.
Less than half an hour later, she returned. Broiled halibut on a bed of seared vegetables, a single-serving sized dinner loaf, with fresh Columbian coffee, and for dessert, a bowl of mint ice cream.
Try as he might, he quickly lost his hard-nosed demeanor and said, “Hired,” before giving her directions to the yacht between mouths full of food.
She rushed back to her small hotel room, packed her belongings, and was barely on board before the new owner and his party arrived. Peeking from below decks, she saw a gentleman in a tuxedo with a young lady who was obviously his new wife but more surprising was the young man who was accompanying them.
Even now the thought of that moment sent a shiver up and down her spine. At least 6-feet tall, he had brown wavy hair illegal bahis and piercing grey eyes that instantly took her breath away. Listening closely, she learned that his name was Aaron before slipping back into her room. That night for the first time since her marriage had ended, she had a dream that left her so turned on that when she woke, her inner thighs were saturated with her juices.
When she dressed the next morning, she made sure that she was showing all of her ‘natural assets’ for Aaron to enjoy, and he did. She was surprised to see how a young man with such grooming and upbringing was so shy around a woman; yet she seemed drawn to him even more because of it. That night she slipped into his cabin and they became lovers.
Soon she was spending almost every night with Aaron but that ended ‘that night.’ They had been asleep in each other’s arms when the storm hit and soon afterwards something collided with the yacht. In the confusion, she ended up in the life raft with another crew member, Dennis, while Aaron ended up in the life raft with his adoptive father, Nathan and new step-mother, Miranda.
For awhile, the two rafts stayed together but then a rope that had been hanging off the side of the raft became tangled with something and they were pulled away from the wreck. When the storm ended the next morning, the wreck and the other raft were nowhere in sight, although they thought they saw the other raft far in the distance as it crested a wave later in the day, that was the last they saw of it.
They spent the next seven days in the raft surviving on the meager supplies from the survival kit until Dennis spotted the low, hazy image of their present home. It took most of the day to get them to the atoll. Immediately, he began to prove that behind all his loud talk and bravado there was knowledge to back it up.
Within two days, he had built them a shelter from their life raft and fish traps to capture food but most important, he built them several solar stills to provide fresh water. Having provided for the basics, they decided to rest and recuperate for the next several days, but Mother Nature had other plans.
That night a storm blew in with high waves and winds. Together, they curled up under the make-shift shelter, each holding onto a side to keep it from being blown away. When they crawled out from under it the next morning they were surprised and overwhelmed with what they found.
Scattered across the beach were boxes and plastic containers, ropes, 55-gallon drums, rolls of cloth, and wooden planks that they quickly recognized as being from their yacht. Yet, Dennis was far more intrigued by what he saw half-submerged just off shore. There, a large, yellow shipping container sat on the reef that surrounded their little home.
Plunging into the water, he reached the container and using a rock, broke open the lock holding it shut. Once open, he began pulling the contents out and carrying it to shore. Over and over he repeated the trip until, at last, the container was empty.
At the same time, she had been doing an inventory of the boxes. Due to the variety of goods, she guessed that the container must have been heading for a convenience store or truck stop. Inside the boxes and containers she had found beef jerky, snack packs of various cheeses, packages of candy, crackers, souvenir coffee mugs, canned meats, dry goods, ponchos, small canisters of propane gas, charcoal, tea, three tanks of helium, and box after box of heavy-duty party balloons.
That night they feasted on SPAM breaded with crushed potato chips and topped with melted cheese, canned carrots, tea sweetened with honey, and chocolate bars for dessert. When they were done, Dennis put coals from their fire into 4 small cans and placed them in the corners of their shelter. For the first time since the wreck they had full stomachs and a warm place to sleep.
When she awoke the next morning, she found Dennis sitting on the shore staring at the shipping container. “You know, I think I can get that thing out of the water.”
“It would make a lot better shelter than the raft we’re using now as well as provide a better place to store our supplies,” he replied.
It had taken two long, hard days of preparation to tie the balloons around the container and an even longer third day to inflate them, only to have nothing happen. The weight of the water inside the container combined with the sand around the base held it in place no matter what they tried.
That night they quietly ate dinner and went to bed, depressed and exhausted. Dennis moved to the far side of the shelter and didn’t say a word. She laid there quietly for a few moments before saying, “You know that you and I are the only people on this mini-island of ours and there are times when what we need the most can only be given by another person?”
Still he lay there quietly.
Moving swiftly, she stretched out, pressing her body against his. “Like right now. I know you’re bummed illegal bahis siteleri out about the canister but tomorrow is another day and a fresh start.”
He rolled over to look her in the eyes. He opened his arms and she snuggled in, resting her head on his shoulder. That night, another storm hit far out in the ocean so they barely noticed until the following morning when they got up.
The first thing they noticed was that the container was floating much closer to shore, the back end bobbing up and down like a cork. They spent the whole day working together using a pulley system and wooden planks as runners to pull the container up on shore.
Now, looking back over her shoulder, she glanced at the container that had become their home. It all seemed so long ago now. They had quickly fallen into a daily routine; check the stills, check the traps, work on a raft that they started to build and any other projects, such as the rockets that Dennis had built out of the propane canisters.
Standing, she walked back to the fire located near their home and sat down. Dennis emerged from the shadows shortly afterwards.
“Well, I didn’t see any type of reply but that doesn’t mean somebody didn’t see it. I’ll wait a couple of days and send up another one.”
“Ok,” she replied as she continued to look into the flames. Inwardly, she fought a battle that she knew wasn’t going to go well while unconsciously rubbing her hand over her lower abdomen.
She had suspected that she might be pregnant before the night of the wreck and had been planning on telling Aaron but the time just never seemed ‘right’. Now, she had no doubts. All the classic signs were there.
Fortunately, she had been able to explain the ‘morning sickness’ away as the results of the food they were eating but now her body was beginning to change as well. Her breasts were enlarging and becoming more sensitive. Her stomach was beginning to stretch the clothes she was wearing and her hormones were going crazy, one second making her want to cry and the next to scream.
Worst of all was that Dennis seemed to be paying more attention to her and was giving her subtle and not-so-subtle hints that he’d like to be more than snuggling buddies at night. Realizing there wasn’t really anything she could do about it at the moment, she headed inside to sleep.
Unfortunately, she had been right. Dennis had been thinking about her more and more often. It had all started on the yacht as he listened to her and the owner’s son fucking. He had heard her screams and wails of pleasure and fantasized about what she looked like nude, laying beneath him as he drove his cock in and out of her, squeezing her beautiful tits as he bit on her nipples … and tonight he was going to make his dreams come true. “Tonight, I’m going to make her mine and show her who the better man is,” he thought as an image of Aaron flashed through his mind.
Laying on her side, she heard Dennis enter and quickly knew that her worst fears were about to come true. She felt him drape his arm over her, which was nothing new, but she also felt the hair of his chest rubbing against the thin material of her top and something else lower pressing between her legs.
Silently she shifted in an attempt to make him think she was still sleeping but instead of letting her go he pulled her back against him as his hand encircled her breast. Still feigning sleep, she brushed his hand away only to have him replace it, this time sliding under her top and grabbing a nipple. “Stop,” she whispered.
“Why?” he replied softly against her ear.
Still fondling her nipple, he ignored her as he whispered. “You know you want it. It’s been more than 3 months and women like you need a man to take care of them on a regular basis.”
Anger flared as she pulled away from him. “And EXACTLY what do you mean by ‘women like me’?”
He reached out for her and muttered, “I heard you and the owner’s son going at it while we were on the yacht. Hell, half the ocean probably heard you screaming how you wanted him to fuck you and fill your pussy with his cock.” His own anger rose as he continued, “Well guess what? Your little ‘boy toy’ isn’t here. I am and it’s about time I got some of what you gave him!!”
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her off balance and threw her to the ground, quickly straddling her body with his. “As you said only a few days ago, ‘there are times when what we need the most can only be given by another person’. Well, what I need right now is my cock buried deep inside your pussy … and whether you’ll admit it or not you need it, too.”
She knew she didn’t have a chance of overpowering him and even if she did there was no place to go but suddenly an idea popped into her head as she stopped struggling. “Fine,” she snarled, “if you need to get off that badly go ahead, fuck me. Put your cock in my pussy and do whatever you think you have to do. The only thing I ask is that you don’t hurt canlı bahis siteleri the baby.”
He pulled away as if he’d seen a poisonous snake and growled, “What baby?”
“I’m pregnant. I found out just before the yacht sank.”
“So, it’s Aaron’s kid.”
“Yes,” she replied softly, knowing she was on dangerous ground as she watched the battle going on behind his eyes.
“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK,” was all he yelled as he stood and walked out of the container.
Quickly grabbing a pole, she sat in a corner in case he returned, and waited and waited and waited. After what seemed like a lifetime, she could see the light of the sun beginning to filter into the container.
Cautiously, she ventured out. Dennis was nowhere in sight. Still carrying the pole, she walked along the beach looking for him but what she found instead were three simple words etched in the sand. OUT OF HERE.
Running further up the beach, she was horrified to find that the raft they had been working on was gone. Sitting down, she felt totally alone for the first time in her life.
The sun rose and fell before she finally got up and headed back to camp. Phrases like, “Gone. Alone. Your fault,” kept echoing through her head as she went towards the stills to get some water. What she found turned her remorse into anger. Every one of the stills had been knocked over and the words, BITCH, SLUT, or WHORE were written in the sand.
“That son-of-a-bitch,” she snarled over and over again, as she walked back to camp where she got another ‘surprise’ when she checked the supplies. Over half of the food was also gone. Fortunately, Dennis had never liked canned fruit so there was plenty of nutritious fluids left.
That night she slept without the stress and worry that had plagued her since their arrival on the island. The following morning she rebuilt the solar stills and took an inventory of the remaining supplies before beginning to make her own plans.
She had seen light to the South-East just after dusk on several occasions but each time Dennis had insisted she had been mistaken. Now it was her turn to do what she thought was best.
Four days later, it was done. She used supper-glue for the small pin-hole leaks that she found and scrapes of material and epoxy to fix the large cut that was another of Dennis’ farewell surprises. Then she tied two of the 55-gallon plastic drums to the sides as extra floatation. Now, sitting by the side of the fire, she stared with pride at the bright yellow craft bobbing in the surf and joked that she could now add ‘life raft repair’ to her resume.
She barely slept that night and was up before the sun rose, packing the provisions she figured she’d need. Then, pushing off into the surf, she raised her improvised sail and headed towards her final destination.
Meanwhile, for Aaron and Miranda, life had fallen into a joyous routine of exploration. Each morning, they walked the beach looking for whatever had been washed ashore the night before. Aaron had become an expert with his fishing spear while she never seemed to surprise him with what she found in the tide pools to add to their food supplies. Afterwards, they would walk back through the jungle, picking-up various fruits before enjoying an early afternoon meal, followed by a quick nap or a not-so-quick session of love-making.
Sitting at the table on their terrace that afternoon, Miranda couldn’t help but notice the effect her nude body was having on Aaron. “Doesn’t that thing ever get soft?”
“Not when I have such a beautiful woman sitting across from me without a stitch of clothes on.”
“Beautiful? Huumph. I’m getting fatter and fatter every day,” she quipped.
He stood up, walked behind her, and lightly touched her shoulder. “You’re not fat and you know it. You’re pregnant and there’s a big difference.”
“Yes there is,” she teased as she grabbed his hands and pulled them down across her body until they rested on her stomach. “And it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” he joked. “If I recall it takes two to dance to that particular tune.”
“Yes it does … and this of course,” she whispered as she quickly wrapped her hand around his distended cock.
A hiss escaped him as he felt her hand begin to stroke up and down the length of his swollen member. “Mmmmmm.”
“Not getting bored with it are you? After all, I did this to you yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. In fact, I can’t think of the last time I didn’t do this to you after we had lunch.”
“Not complaining are you?” he asked as he looked down into her upturned eyes.
“Not at all, lover. Since I realized I was pregnant my hormones have kept me so turned on there’s nothing I want more than your long, hard cock in my hand, between my tits, in my mouth, … or deep inside my pussy.”
“As you wish, ma’am,” he replied in a faux Southern drawl.
“But not yet. There’s something else I need first,” she said quickly as she wrapped her lips around his cock. It never ceased to amaze her how much she had grown to love the taste and feel of his cock. Soft and yet rigid, warm yet cool from the combination of the island breeze and her saliva, with the light taste of salt and occasionally a bit of sand.
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