Chapter 3
Sally scarcely could force herself to look at Captain Pierce during their long walk back to camp, despite his several attempts at brief conversation. She answered him with little grunts and monosyllables, wishing heartily that he would have the decency to just leave her alone and let her try to forget the shame which her traitorous young body had inflicted upon her. When they returned to camp, Sally saw that Jennifer and Jason White had gotten there ahead of them, but she did not have the heart to face her young friend, preferring to sit by herself in a far corner of the camp, alone with her private thoughts and her secret humiliation.
Neither Sally and the Captain nor Jennie and Jason had found any food for the group to eat, of course, but the other search parties had been more successful. Bart Williams and his curvaceous secretary, Mollie Curtis, had brought back with them some large orange fruit, rather like giant oranges, which, when opened, proved to be some sort of ripe and delicious melons. Meanwhile, Jack Morris and Tom Waverly, the two handsome young bachelors, had been even luckier, managing to catch what looked like a wild turkey for their evening meal.
Sally helped Jennifer and Mollie prepare the primitive dinner, surprising her friend by her silence and refusal to discuss what she had done or seen on her jungle excursion with the captain. After several attempts at conversation, Jennie finally shrugged and gave up, working quietly over the meal preparations while casting curious sidelong glances at her friend.
At last the dinner was ready, and Sally was rather surprised to find that both the bird and the strange melons were quite delicious. She enjoyed the meal, but was still unable to join in the casual conversation and joking which was general around the beach fire. After dinner, the men helped to clear the residue away, and then everyone prepared to turn in for the night, knowing that another day of scavenging for food lay ahead of them ... and perhaps many more similar days, for as long as they remained on the island and intended to survive there.
Sally checked her watch as they prepared for sleep, and found to her disgust that it had stopped, apparently waterlogged, at noon at the previous day. Or had it been midnight? Or noon today"! She shrugged, not really caring, as she took the rusting watch off and flung it in the general direction of the surf. Another of her tenuous links with modern civilization was gone, broken and useless, wallowing in the froth of the breakers now before receding out to sea.
Sally Porter slept alone, away from the others, shunning even the company of her best friend, Jennifer. It seemed to Sally that she no longer really new Jennie at all, or, after the scene in the jungle clearing that afternoon, perhaps she knew her all too well.
Exhausted by her trying afternoon and lulled by the rhythmic pounding of the nearby surf, Sally sank into a quick, deep sleep. She began to dream, vague mental images of the island and her companions at first, gradually, ever so slowly changing into a jungle scene which she somehow felt that she could recognize. Something she had already seen.
In her dream, Sally was moving slowly and cautiously along the same jungle trail she had walked with Captain Pierce that afternoon. She was looking for something or someone, homing on a strange yet familiar sound which seemed to issue from the forest greenery ahead of her, always within earshot, but somehow just out of reach.
Now the sounds were drawing nearer, becoming somehow more immediate. She slowed her dreamy pace, certain that she was about to discover whatever or whoever it was that she had been seeking so earnestly. There seemed to be a break coming up in the trees and vines directly ahead, a clearing perhaps, and that clearing seemed to be the source" of the sounds which she had been following for so long.
Sally was stretching out a hand now, slowly and cautiously drawing aside the leafy screen in order to peer into that mysterious clearing. She narrowed her eyes, craning her neck to stare through the deepening jungle dusk, eyes seeking, searching for she knew not what.
What Sally saw there in the clearing stunned her. It was at once both strange and new, and yet totally, shockingly familiar to her. Her pulse heightened, her face flushed, and she almost turned away in acute embarrassment at what she saw.
A nude man and woman lay within that clearing, holding one another tightly, their mouths locked together in a deep, searching soul kiss. A nagging sense of deja vu overwhelmed Sally, bringing her mind partially back to the actual scene she had witnessed that very afternoon, causing her to cringe with shame as she once more assumed the role of a prying voyeur, infringing upon the sacred privacy of two other individuals in their most intimate moments.
Sally's mind wrenched at the muscles and nerve centers of her sluggish body, demanding that this time, at least this time, she turn away, exercise some moderate decency, and leave these rapturous young lovers in peace. She was, in fact, turning away from that fantasy scene, when her dream took one of those all too common unexpected turns, jarring her and riveting her attention once more.
The bodies in the clearing shifted, twisting and writhing in mounting passion. The young woman twisted her head toward where Sally stood, her features at last becoming visible through an unruly tumble of honey-blond hair. Those features were naggingly, chillingly familiar, locking Sally's eyes on that in-citeful scene of naked lust in such a way that all thoughts of escape abruptly vanished.
Sally Porter watched herself in that clearing, totally naked, and undulating slowly in the arms of a muscular young man who was both familiar and yet somehow faceless. She knew that if she could only stare harder, closer, she would magically recognize him, but the talent seemed to elude her always, and while she had no trouble recognizing her own face and figure there in the jungle clearing, the identity of her sex partner remained a secret, adding somehow an extra sense of arousal, incitement, the forbidden touch that is somehow necessary to totally satisfactory sex.
Sally felt her own pulse quickening, her breathing changing gradually into a sort of panting rhythm as she beheld herself there, naked in the arms of a stranger. At a vague conscious level, she knew that this was all unreal, a dream, a fantasy, and yet ... there was something so terribly, chillingly real about it all.
Amazing, she thought, how that fantasy touch of her nonexistent lover seemed to transfer itself to her sleeping body with almost physical reality and immediacy. The faceless young man was massaging her naked breasts now, cupping those firm milky mounds in his big hands and milking them, stroking the pliant flesh, paying particular attention to her stiffening rosy nipples, until her entire torso writhed and twisted with mounting passion at his caresses. And, in her dreamy state, Sally Porter was vaguely aware of a strikingly real tingling in her own breasts, aware of the stiffening of her nipples into twin exclamation points of mounting desire.
A moaning sigh escaped from Sally's taut lips, signaling coming surrender both to her unusually responsive body and to the faceless mystery lover of her dreams. That lithe young man read the signal and acknowledged it gladly, pulling her firm breasts gently together and holding the rosy nipples mere inches apart, lowering his hungry, questing mouth to those tingling pleasure buds with an eagerness that wrenched another grateful sigh from Sally.
Sally Porter moaned and undulated slightly in her sleep as those dream lips closed about the burning stem of one nipple, and a fiery, darting tongue lapped forward to lave and arouse the excited flesh of her nipple and aureole. The young woman's taut breast seemed to be on fire, with hot flames of budding lust lapping around her excited nipple and spreading rapidly outward to envelop her whole upper torso, bringing her back up off the firm ground in a lustful arch, presenting her tits like a living sacrifice to the avid mouth of her dream lover.
It seemed incredible to Sally's drowsy mind that she could in fact derive such physical arousal from a mere dream. Nothing in Sally's limited experience had prepared her for such a vivid erotic experience. She supposed this must be what she had heard jokingly referred to as a "wet dream" by some of her friends, and indeed, she could now almost imagine that she felt her own feminine lubricant secretions beginning to flow between her thighs, preparing her cunt for the penile invasion that would inevitably, blessedly follow the foreplay she was then receiving.
The faceless young man had now enveloped both of Sally's hot little nipples with his hungry mouth, engulfing a great mouthful of her breast flesh, pinning it roughly against the roof of his mouth and almost violently assailing the stiff little nipple buds with his flailing tongue, whipping Sally's burning nerve endings almost into a frenzy of aroused sensuality. The sleeping young woman almost imagined that she could feel the warm flow of saliva on her breasts as that imaginary tongue whipped across her nipples, and the hands which cupped her breasts tightly together seemed remarkably, startlingly real even in her present drowsy state.
Sally stirred where she lay, shifting her body so that she now lay completely on her back, her proud young breasts thrusting upward to the night sky of the island. In her mind, it seemed that the faceless dream lover shifted with her, never even lifting his amorous mouth from her tits as he followed her motions, now straddling her full hips with his firm thighs, as if he was mounting a spirited mare for a brisk midnight ride. Sally moaned and writhed, taking pleasure in the feel of his thrusting cock and naked scrotum as they rubbed and chafed against the smooth flesh of her belly.
But I'm not naked, Sally's drowsy mind reminded her at a semi-conscious level, and I couldn't really be feeling those things. To her surprise and passing embarrassment, she found that that realization brought a strong and immediate feeling of disappointment and frustration into her heart.
Sally fled that frustration, gladly escaping backward into the erotic fantasy world of her dreams. In that swirling sensual world, her faceless lover had lowered his mouth from her tits, and was now licking and sucking his way downward along the fluttering plane of her flat stomach, homing unfailingly on the pulsing, waiting mound of her secret genitals. Sally's breath caught in her throat as his mouth paused at the tiny crater of her navel, his tongue tip swirling briefly about that sensual indentation, and then tracking wetly on toward the lightly furred triangle of pubic hair where her hungry pussy waited and yearned for him.
Again, the sensations which carried over from Sally's wet dream had an almost physical reality to them, causing her to squirm erotically in her ever-mounting excitement. Her pelvis unconsciously picked up a rotating, humping little rhythm all its own, deliberately rubbing the downy flesh of her lower belly against her dream lover's chest and stomach, enjoying the insistent prodding of his big hot cock against her warm inner thigh.
The man's searching, questing mouth was skirting the hairy triangle of her pubic area now, the pink tongue tip flicking with lighting speed back and forth as it traced the outline of that moist erotic forest. Sally's firm buttocks hovered above the ground, jerking and rotating as she silently beckoned those hungry lips to find their ultimate target, to close upon the waiting, pouting slit of her cunt and bring to her once and for all the blissful relief which she craved so badly.
He was complying now, the lips, teeth and tongue edging through her pubic curls like some incredibly sensual lawnmower, plowing ahead through the downy tangle until his hot lips reached the apex of her cuntal slit. He paused there, his hot tongue tip flicking out once more, an experimental probe against and between those pouting pussy lips which sent an immediate jolt of electric sensual pleasure racing throughout Sally's entire torso.
Sally Porter sobbed aloud her pleasure, so real did the ministrations of her mystery lover. Her clawed fingers dug deeply into the soft loam, her heels braced against the ground, tendons and muscles straining as she thrust her pelvis energetically upward against his hungry jaws, pumping her crotch into ever closer conjunction with those pleasure-giving lips.
The young woman's entire lower torso seemed to be on fire as the man's mouth fastened upon her pussy in earnest, his fingers coming into play as he pried her cuntal lips smoothly apart, revealing the coralline lining within to his teeth, tongue and hands. A long shuddering sigh escaped from Sally's tight throat and she sagged limply backward on the ground, a little smile of relief and satisfaction playing across her face as she waited for that blessed pleasure-giving tongue to do its erotic work.
The first touch of her lover's tongue tip upon the hot, steamy flesh of her inner pussy sent young Sally Porter into a writhing, twisting convulsion of desire. Her arms and legs thrashed briefly about, then went suddenly stiff as tree limbs, jutting outward at right angles from her body, fingers and toes clawing at the earth as if to keep her from drifting away on a wave of erotic excitement.
It was all simply too much ... too powerful ... too exciting to be confined entirely to the world of dreams and fantasies. Why, oh why could she never seem to attain in real life the pleasures which such fantasies brought to her dozing mind?
Her lover's hungry mouth sucked and gnawed energetically on the hot pink flesh of her cunt, his tongue swirling briefly about the clasping little mouth of her vagina before sweeping onward and upward to lap at the rigid little pleasure bud of her tingling clitoris. The man's hands left her crotch now as his mouth took control, and his palms were sliding smoothly upward along her naked sides, slipping easily over her rib cage to seize the weighty mounds of her tits. His thumbs and forefingers fastened tightly upon the erect stems of her nipples, twisting and tweaking that sensitive flesh until she cried out with a voice that had pain mingled with the pleasure.
It was, perhaps, the instant of fleeting pain which brought Sally Porter's mind to a higher waking state, nudging her steadily but reluctantly out of her dream world and back to the plane of grimmer reality. Her eyelids fluttered, and a little moan of disappointment escaped her throat as she feared that the beautiful sensations she had imagined were now lost to her, slipping beyond recall as her dream receded in the distance.
It took Sally a long, torturous moment to realize that, while she was indeed awake, the sensations inherent in her "dream" had not lessened in the slightest. In fact, although her befuddled mind could not at first understand what was happening, the feelings of erotic stimulation actually seemed to be growing stronger as she came back to full wakedness.
Yes, there could be no doubt about it now. The tingling in her manhandled little budding nipples was mounting, growing with each passing second. The burning sensation in her aroused tits was not going away, but was increasing. And below, in the steamy canyon of her cunt, the lapping and swirling of her dream lover's marvelous tongue seemed more energetic and forceful than before, driving her inexorably on to ever-increasing heights of erotic arousal.
Curious, and suddenly more than a little frightened, Sally pushed herself up on both elbows and glanced down the curvaceous vista of her own body. It took her a long moment to realize that her blouse was unbuttoned and thrown wide open, fully revealing the mounds of her breasts. Her bra had been unfastened somehow and pushed upward, out of the way, and two firm male hands now held her heaving tits, thumbs and forefingers manipulating the rigid nubs of her little cherry nipples exactly as she had imagined in her stirring erotic dream.
A scream began worming its way out of Sally's tight throat and into her mouth but she bit it off for the moment, .her young mind still reeling with the intensity of the erotic sensations which washed over her. Her eyes continued probing the darkness, striving to learn exactly what was happening to her body while she slept, and who was responsible for that lascivious assault on her person.
A man was kneeling ... rather, almost crouching, between her widely splayed thighs, and Sally could see now that her tight little skirt had been thrust up about her hips, fully revealing her loins to her would-be attacker. Nor were her skimpy little bikini panties an obstacle to his lust, for she could plainly see them now, laying beside her on the damp sand where he had tossed them as he skimmed them off of her buttocks and legs while she slept. And the man, whoever he might be, had taken full advantage of her impromptu nudity, for his slavering face was now buried in the hairy furrow between her splayed legs.
It had not been a dream!! Sally Porter's mind reeled with the recognition that she had been ... in fact, was being assaulted sexually by a stranger who she had not yet even identified. Obviously, the man sucking and licking her burning cunt was one of the Orion survivors, but who, for God's sake, could it be? Her first thoughts flashed to Captain Pierce, who had taken advantage of her helplessness in the jungle clearing that morning, and she instantly suspected that he had come back for "seconds" after the others were asleep. However, as she stared hard at the top of her attacker's head, she realized that the thick curls of dark brown hair bore no resemblance whatsoever to the ship Captain's tight blond crew cut.
Who, then, could it possibly be?? Sally's mind had only begun to wrestle with that thorny problem, but she found herself strangely unable to concentrate as the waves of erotic arousal continued to wash over her, emanating from the twin fountainheads of her manhandled nipples and her thoroughly sucked little pussy. She found, to her great dismay, that her traitorous young body was continuing to exert its same unconscious signals of response, her back arching and breasts thrusting eagerly upward, her pelvis rotating and elevating into closer alignment with the hungry, slavering mouth of her anonymous lover.
A hot flush of shame and embarrassment rushed over Sally's pretty face as she recognized the same danger signals which she had experienced earlier that day with Captain Pierce. Her body was on the verge of betraying her, surrendering instinctively to the sinful desires of the flesh which she had so long guarded herself strictly against. Now, twice in one day, she felt herself slipping beyond the control of her normally strong will, becoming lost in some sort of erotic fantasy world which seemed at once both strange and threatening, and yet entirely natural.
Burning tears of mingled shame and arousal erupted from Sally's tightly clenched eyelids, coursing their fiery paths down her smooth cheeks. A little sob was wrenched from her throat, but already her feelings were changing, merging from grief and shame into a sort of budding arousal, a sweeping surrender from which she instinctively knew that there would be no return short of total, mind-dizzying orgasmic relief. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her clenched fists relaxed, and, as if she was watching herself move again in a dream, her hands crept downward along her body, fingers at last reaching her lover's head. Hesitantly, ashamedly, she reached out the fingers of one hand to lightly stroke his curly brown hair.
At that touch, at long last, the anonymous man seemed to realize that she was no longer sleeping. He glanced up from her splayed crotch, his lips and chin glistening in the moonlight with the hot gleaming juices of her own arousal. He smiled lecherously, feasting his eyes on her face and the luscious display of her nudity before he chuckled deep in his throat and then returned to his energetic sucking and licking of her excited pussy.
Sally's mind swam as she collapsed weakly backward upon the firm, cool sand of the beach. To her great surprise and shock, totally unexpectedly, the man crouching between her legs, with hands clutching her tits and his hungry mouth pressed tightly against her dripping cunt, was the handsome young bachelor, Jack Morris!
She could only imagine what prompted him to attempt this nighttime assault upon her sleeping body, but whatever had set off his lusty emotions and brought him to her side, it now seemed all too clear that she could bring herself to do nothing which might interrupt him, nothing which might deprive her of the ultimate pleasure and relief which she knew was coming in a matter of agonizing moments.
As if on cue, in tune with the erotic tenor of her thoughts, Jack Morris rocked back on his haunches, shifting his position so that Sally had a complete view of his kneeling figure from where she lay prone on the ground. Another little gasp was torn from her throat as she saw that he was almost completely naked, clad, in fact, only in a skimpy pair of jockey shorts, the undergarments strained and dampened by the thrusting promontory of his surging, powerful penis. Obviously, he had come to her side that night totally ready to go through with and accomplish his lustful design.
Morris was obviously conscious of Sally's eyes upon his near-naked body, and a tight little smile played across his face as he enjoyed the attention. He flexed his muscles, proud of the way they lengthened and rippled under his perfect tanned skin. At last, when he had treated her to enough of a preliminary show, he lowered his hands to the waistband of his shorts, slipping his thumbs inside as he began to lower those tight and clinging garments from his loins.
Slowly, almost tauntingly, he slipped the moistened jockey shorts downward and off of his hips, wriggling slightly with an action that only increased the seductivity of his little strip show. At last, after seconds that dragged by like hours, his shorts were skimming down and away from the jutting rod of his taut, blood-engorged penis. That cock caught briefly on the elastic of his shorts, and as they slipped free his penis bobbled in the pale moonlight, riveting Sally's attention like the hand of some intensely erotic metronome. Peering closer in the half-darkness, she plainly saw a single pearly drop of seminal fluid gleaming at the slit in his blunt purple glans.
Jack Morris seized his own long cock in one hand now, stroking it almost absent-mindedly, with long tingling strokes. Sally noticed that the organ seemed to grow at least another half inch under that manual stimulation. Finally, apparently satisfied with the condition of his penis and the erotic signals emanating from the fleshy pleasure-wand, Morris shifted his body angle once more, leaning sharply forward to support himself on one hand above her prostrate form, the other hand continuing to grip his rigid, pulsing cock.
Sally waited, fearing even to breathe, for whatever the sexy young man had in store for her next. She clenched her eyes tightly shut again, almost fearing that he might evaporate in front of her very eyes if she so much as dared to look up at him, thereby depriving herself of the sexual arousal and joy which she somehow knew was in the immediate future.
At length, after what seemed like an eternity but could have been only fleeting seconds, Sally felt the hot, smooth head of his cock sliding wetly upward along the tender flesh of her sensitive inner thigh. Sally was holding her breath now, her hands once more clenched into nervous fists as she waited ... waited ... for what? She had only a very general idea of what should happen next, and no idea at all of what precisely the aroused young man planned to do to her.
She got her answer as the glans of his rigid cock made sudden burning contact with the pouting labia of her tingling little cunt. Slowly, gingerly, he traced those full nether lips with almost teasing gentleness, his own pre-ejaculate fluids mingling freely with her feminine secretions. Sally trembled almost uncontrollably now, her entire body seized by spasms of blossoming lust that made her feel like the victim of some strange, incurable palsy. And all the while, young Jack Morris continued his gentle, insidious assault upon the flesh of her burning, needing cunt.
The man brought his fingers into the game once more, slowly, gingerly prying her cuntal lips apart for the second time, now allowing his cock head access where his lips and tongue had ventured to explore only moments earlier. The wet pink flesh of her cunt itself was fully exposed to the sliding caress of his blunt glans, and Sally was seized by new, more powerful tremors of mounting lust as that broad cock head brushed hotly against the rigid bulb of her clit, chafing and taunting that hard pleasure node in such a way that her entire body quivered and arched upward off the ground in a lascivious bow.
Leaving her clitoris at long last, Morris brought his cock down and into alignment with the clasping, rubbery mouth of Sally Porter's once-virginal little vaginal channel. She winced slightly as she felt the now-familiar pressure of a penile probe against that tender and sensitive flesh, but she now likewise knew that the discomfort would last only a matter of seconds, and in her mounting surrender she resigned herself to wait it out. Indeed, there was no denying that already the slight feelings of tension and pain were fading, to be replaced by a definite feeling of lusty, sexual arousal.
Sally felt cold beads of erotic perspiration breaking out all over the exposed surface of her luscious female body. She was trembling ever more violently, biting into her full lower lip in an effort to control the raging passion within her, and to ride with the surging emotions without peaking too soon. She opened her eyes, fixing them upon Morris's face, finding an expression there that told her that he, too, was finding it increasingly difficult to take the sex act calmly and slowly. The knowledge encouraged her, made her somehow stronger and more self-confident in her own female powers.
Jack Morris's penis was probing ever more insistently at the elastic ring of Sally Porter's vaginal mouth, seeking entrance to the ultimate core of her sensual being. She wriggled her hips energetically, seeking to accommodate him in his quest, but he seemed intent on taking things in his own way and in his own time.
Gradually, with almost torturous slowness, Morris began to worm his massive pole of genital flesh into her cuntal tunnel, evoking the slightest grimace of pain from Sally before she could relax enough to accommodate his entry. She could feel the walls of her tight, once-pure cunt rippling ahead of his surging penile head, retreating only to counterattack with clasping power as his cock head popped that first full inch inside her body.
Sally's groan of pain changed quickly into a mewling little cry of mounting pleasure as her vaginal muscles relaxed enough to accommodate the blunt purple tip of her new lover's cock. She actually began to fuck back at him in that early stage of their coupling, her internal muscles sucking and nibbling at the super-sensitive tip of his organ in such a way that he was forced to grit his teeth, breath wheezing out of his throat as he, in turn, was subjected to a raging storm of unexpected genital sensation.
A flush of shame rose to Sally's cheeks as she realized exactly what she was doing and with whom, fucking energetically at the probing cock of a man with whom she had never before even spoken. And yet, as soon as the puritanistic thought entered her mind, it was banished by a somehow more realistic understanding of her current situation.
We're trapped, she told herself, and we may not be rescued for days or weeks, if at all. We are the only civilization now, each of us and all of us. There are no laws anymore, and nothing we choose to do can be considered wrong as long as no one is hurt!
The young woman was rather surprised to find herself thinking in such strange, liberated terms, but in the fleeting moment before her mind was once more consumed by the raging fires of lust, she supposed that her reaction must be based upon the sudden removal of all civilized trappings from their lives. Thus, rather pleased with herself and her new logic, Sally returned her brain to the task at hand, the achievement of ultimate erotic satisfaction from her surprise lover's driving, skewering cock.
Jack Morris, for his part, seemed equally lost in a vague sort of dream world, a fantasy universe which centered upon the point where his massive pole of cockflesh plowed relentlessly into the steamy little slit of Sally Porter's once-virginal cunt.
Sally writhed and undulated on the ground, like the victim of a violent epileptic seizure. Her white teeth were clenched together, her eyes tightly shut, her clawed fingers searching upward above her to find Morris's shoulders and drag his muscular body down tighter on top of her own. She reveled in the erotic sensations which raged in her trim body, tossing and turning as she sought to wring every iota of feeling from the exquisite moment.
Jack Morris was breathing heavily, his jaw grimly set as he determined to forestall his own climax until he was able to make Sally come. He could still hardly believe his own good fortune at finding her so receptive to his advances. When she had awakened, he had more than half expected her to cry out for help, and bring the other people in the camp racing to her rescue. Instead, she had responded, at first sleepily, unconsciously, but then, after a brief moment of hesitation, more energetically, and obviously aware of exactly what she was doing with him. Now, as they tossed and writhed together on the beach in the pale moonlight, the blond girl who had been a total stranger only moments before, and to whom he had still not been properly introduced, was giving Jack Morris the fucking of his life, whipping his senses onward and upward toward the inevitable explosive relief of orgasm.
Morris felt the tingling, watery sensation between his legs which always served as the forerunner of sexual climax. The hot cauldron of his balls was stirring restlessly, and he could feel the roiling j ism there, churning, anxious to erupt down his long penile shaft and flow into the velvet receptacle of the young blond's pussy. He pumped faster, no longer fighting the coming explosion, as he sensed now that she was gaining on him, pushing desperately toward her own release, about to overtake and even surpass him in that race toward lustful oblivion.
Sally Porter was rigid on the ground, only her hips and buttocks in motion now as she strained toward orgasm. Her erect nipples pointed skyward, grinding into the palms of Jack's hands as he captured those fleshy orbs and massaged them roughly, almost brutally. No pain existed for Sally now, as she drifted on the crest of a pre-orgasmic sensation wave which in only seconds would sweep her away and on to total fulfillment.
She swiftly brought her taut legs up and around, behind Jack's ass, pinning his cock deep inside her. Her naked heels drummed against the taut hemispheres of his ass cheeks, pumping away so that his rampaging prick was forced even deeper inside her, complementing his own fucking strokes with a syncopated rhythm of her own which somehow heightened and broadened her excitement. On every single inward stroke she could now plainly feel his broad glans buffeting against the rubbery cup of her cervix, setting off jangling alarm bells of erotic pleasure at the base of her reeling skull.
Time seemed to have no meaning, and matter no substance, as Sally gave herself finally and entirely to the sensations of the moment, surrendering the last vestige of her once-virginal, once "civilized" soul to the ecstasy which this stranger had inflicted upon her. She gloried in her wild abandonment, and in the sudden release from the restrictions of law and societal conventions. It was a triumph of both the heart and body.
Sally Porter came with that thought dangling in her mind. The orgasm began as a nagging tingle between her widely-splayed thighs, then suddenly erupted into a raging fireball there, shooting its white-hot tendrils along the path of her spine to blanket the inside of her skull with streamers of gold and crimson. Her ripe young body stiffened, convulsed, arched upward off the ground in a rictus closely akin to death as she rode the tidal wave of ecstatic release, mind and body as one at that moment.
Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh! she groaned with her last remnant of conscious thought, struggling to keep her orgasmic cry at the level of a hoarse whisper for frear of waking and drawing the others. IIIII'mmmmmm ccccuuuummmmmmmiiiinnnngggg!!!!
Jack Morris followed her to that sublime plateau by only a few seconds, reading the familiar warning signals in his loins and nerve endings, hunching forward and skewering her wet open cunt with great humping piledriver thrusts of his spasming cock. He felt the reservoir of his balls overflow, actually experience the burning rush of semen along the bulging ducts of his cock, and groaned aloud in the night as the long creamy spurts of jism erupted with cyclone force into the cunt of his impromptu sex partner.
They lay like that, locked together and trembling with the aftershocks of orgasm, for long, seemingly endless moments. At length, when the afterglow had begun to pale and the storm of erotic sensation had abated slightly, Jack Morris withdrew from her, sliding his rapidly deflating penis out of her wet vaginal sheath, rocking back on his haunches and exhaling a great sigh of mingled contentment and exhaustion.
Sally Porter lay on the verge of unconsciousness, about to slip into the realm of dreams once more. So powerful had been the sexual experience, so overwhelming, that she felt on the brink of fainting, and lay still deliberately waiting for the moment of reeling conf usion to pass her by. She watched drowsily as Jack Morris sluggishly dressed himself once more, and she had the presence of mind to do the same, pulling her bra loosely into place and fastening several buttons on her filmy blouse, tugging her skirt down to cover her saturated loins. Then, with a sigh of total sexual exhaustion, she sank back upon the sand once more, already deeply asleep as her head came to rest on the cool, moist ground.
In her dreams, Sally was once more in the arms of her faceless mystery lover, already mentally reliving what her spent body was much too tired to experience physically. She never saw young Jack Morris retreat to his place beside the shrinking camp fire, so lost was she in the erotic reverie of her own tight little dream world. She slept soundly, happy and at peace.