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Subject: (Jane Urquhart) ISLAND (FMM cons, bond)
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WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual matter. If you are under
18, or live in a jurisdiction in which such matter is illegal, please
stop reading now.

This story may be archived on free web sites but is not to be
distributed without this note and the name of the author, changed in
any way, or sold. Please do not repost without consulting the author.
Copyright 1998 by Jane Urquhart. My website is
http://www.asstr.ml.org/~Jane_Urquhart; if that one fails, try
http://extra.newsguy.com/~bitbard/janey, where Bitbard has generously
carried my stories for some time.


DEDICATION: For Angela, on a special day. May her dreams come true.

ISLAND  (FMM cons, bond)

by Jane Urquhart


	Josh idly swept the area to his right with the binoculars. He
never tired of watching the big "gooney birds" hitting the beach and
rolling ass-over-teakettle whenever they landed, but, as a scientist,
he had a job to do. Preparing to head for the office, he took one last
look at the sea--then stopped. Something was out there. Where nothing
should be. He stood, turned, and ran to call his colleague.

	"Hey, Jim!" he shouted. "Get the spotting scope! Something out
at sea!"

	Jim, his partner, sauntered out of the little building
carrying the big green spotting scope. He didn't hurry. He had learned
that few things were worth hurrying for. Tall, blond, heavily muscled,
bronzed, wearing only white shorts and flip-flops, he looked so much
like Josh that people called them "the twins." But Jim was five years
older, knew more, had been more "theres" and done more "thats" than
Josh. He was the leader of their two-man team.

	"Where away?" he asked as Josh approached him.

	"About ten degrees right of the entrance to the channel," Josh
said. "May just be a log, but we ought to look."

	Jim settled the scope on the wide rail of the office veranda
and swung it toward the area Josh had indicated.

	"Yep," he said. "Life raft. Nobody in it as far as I can see,
but we have to check. You want to go in the jet-ski?"

	"Sure," said Josh. "I'll wave if it's worth your bringing the
boat." He set off jogging toward their little pier.

	So Angela, who had given up hope the day before, was rescued.
				-----------------
						They put her in the
narrow cot in what they called "the guest house," a tiny hut reserved
for whatever unlucky pilot was stuck with the duty of making their
monthly supply delivery.

	"She's a mess," said Josh. "We'd better get on the horn and
get her on a plane back to the hospital."

	"Nah, she's not that bad," said Jim. "I've seen people in her
shape before. Sunburned, but we can ice her down twenty minutes at a
time and take care of that. She's undoubtedly dehydrated, but there
was still water in that can on the raft, so she was OK until she
passed out, and that obviously wasn't long ago. We can get her over
that fast. Maybe a little touch of heat exhaustion. Otherwise probably
nothing wrong at all. She was lucky. And she's a looker. That long
hair is going to be beautiful when it dries, and look at those legs!
And the tits. They may not be huge, but they're gorgeous. And you want
to send her off to the hospital?"

	"But people are worrying about her right now," Josh said. "We
can't just keep her here."

	"I guess we'll have to," Jim said. "The comm radio went out
just before you called me." Jim was lying, but only a little--the
radio would go out within a very few minutes. He would see to it.

	"We could signal with the emergency beacon," Josh said.

	"Don't be so fucking creative," Jim said. "How long since
you've talked to a woman?"

	"Uh . . . nearly six months, I guess, the same as you. What
are you driving at?"

	"She'll be good company in a couple of days," Jim said, "and
in a week I can get the radio going again. Why make a federal case out
of it?"

	"Uh . . . yeah. I kind of see what you mean." 

	Jim was right. Forty-eight hours later Angela was still
shedding skin, which made her itch a little, but otherwise she felt
pretty well. She was still weak, but she was up and around. She was
wearing a pair of Josh's shorts, tied with a nylon line, and a T-shirt
that made her feel like she was inside a tent. She knew Jim and Josh
could see her nipples where they touched the light cotton, but she
wore what she had to wear. The shirt, slacks and underwear she had
worn when they found her was in shreds, they'd said, so they'd thrown
it away.

	She was everlastingly grateful to Jim and Josh, who not only
had pulled her out of the ocean but had nursed her through a bad night
and day. And been perfect gentlemen throughout. On top of that, she
thought smiling, both of them were, well, very attractive. To say the
least. Big, tough, blond muscle men like the ones she'd dreamed of,
not the ones she actually knew. She remembered a fleeting thought
she'd had more than once about being tied to a tree while men caressed
her naked body and threatened her with their, their things. She
smiled. Her libido obviously had come back just as fast as the rest of
her, but, of course, nothing could come of it. She could hardly select
one of them and make a play for him--it would be unjust. Nor would
she--she was faithful to her live-in boyfriend. But she could
fantasize a little.

	Only two things bothered her. First, she was quite embarrassed
when she thought of the way Josh and Jim had had to carry her to the
bathroom from her cot when she was still  too weak to get there by
herself. She had a vague memory of one of them helping her through the
door. But the second thing was far more troubling--she had to get back
home. Her friend, perhaps future husband, George, was going to be
worried sick when he found out she was missing. With luck, that
wouldn't happen for a week or so, but, all the same, she was worried.
Her job would wait--she had been traveling in Africa studying patterns
of post-colonial culture, and the courses she was to teach wouldn't
start until October. Nobody worried about assistant professors in the
summer, especially brand new assistant professors. If only she hadn't
decided to go home early, to take an old, small Russian airliner
chartered to an African company, if she'd paid more for a
trans-Atlantic flight rather than going the long way to save money,
she'd have been in a different plane, and would never have heard of
this island in the Indian Ocean. But she indeed was on the wrong
plane, one that had crashed in the sea. She had survived by some
miracle, she was on the island, and she wasn't going home until Jim
got the radio repaired.

	Meanwhile, she would eat, sleep, and get her strength back.
She would explore this tiny, idyllic island while she waited for Jim
to repair the radio and arrange to send her back to civilization. She
could never get enough of the surf and sand--they were luxuries she
had seldom been privileged to enjoy.

	Three days later, the fifth of her stay on Itak Island, she
wandered down to the office after her daily siesta. She was surprised
to see that both Jim and Josh were there. Usually one or the other
would be out somewhere, doing mysterious things with instruments whose
uses she could not begin to fathom. They had told her they had to be
here, and nowhere else, to study something about variations in weather
patterns caused by ocean currents. But on this day they seemed to be
waiting for her.

	"Hi, guys," she said as she eased the screen door shut behind
her.
	"Hi, Angela," said Jim. "We've been waiting for you. We can
still get news from outside, even if we can't talk back. And there's a
tsunami out there somewhere. It may hit us."

	"I've heard of those," said Angela, suddenly frightened. "Big
waves? That wash everything away?"

	"We hope not everything," said Josh. "We just don't know."

	"We're not sure of anything," said Jim. "All we have are some
sketchy reports--ships that reported seeing the thing hit an island,
and a mid-ocean earthquake report. But we have to act as if it's
coming and it's bad. So we're going to hole up in this building for a
while--it should be tough enough to stand anything but the biggest
one."
	"We might die," said Angela, turning pale.

	"We could," said Jim, "but it won't be because we didn't try
to stay alive. There's a basement here that ought not to be flooded
completely. We're in the middle of a lot of very shallow water, so if
we keep a sharp lookout we ought to see the wave coming in time to
dive down there, and we have some scuba gear we can put on if we have
to. Then, when we get through it--we will, you know--we have a lot of
emergency stuff, like food, water and blankets, stashed in an
underground, watertight storage unit. We'll be OK. I'm telling you.
We'll make it. Anyhow, we want you to help us move some stuff from one
of the outbuildings--books, charts, old reports, a lot of stuff we've
stored there. Would you mind?"

	"Of course not," said Angela. "Doing anything is better than
just sitting around waiting to die." She was frightened. Really,
really scared, more than she could remember being before, even when
she woke up in a boat with no land in sight. Jim's reassurances
helped, but could she trust him? She wasn't sure. But she wasn't just
going to give up.

	Co-ordinating all the charts with the radio reports they'd
received finally led Josh to conclude that they had at least two hours
before the big wave arrived, and probably more. So they began the
backbreaking work of lifting the things they had to move onto dollies,
horsing the dollies through soft sand for twenty yards and unloading
them in a back room of  the office building. Angela couldn't move the
dollies at all; she concentrated on dragging boxes over to the door so
the men could do the lifting. She was strongly impressed by their
strength--they tossed the heavy boxes around as if they were empty.
Sweat was rolling down their sculptured chests. Their necks looked
bigger around than Angela's thighs. The cords in their forearms stood
out as they wrestled with the dolly; their biceps bulged. Their
stomachs looked like washboards. Perspiration matted the thick hair on
their legs. Angela was as hot as they were, working as hard as they
were, and she felt dull pains in her own arms. She was amazed that
with a real threat of death hanging over them all she still could
thrill to the sight of these two men simply flexing their muscles. But
then she had always loved the sight of men's bodies straining under
stress.

	Once, when she and Jim were standing at the door of the
outbuilding, resting while waiting for Josh to bring another of the
forms that told them which boxes were which, Jim looked down at her,
then reached up and caressed her cheek.

	"Tough little babe, aren't you?" he said.

	She smiled, thrilled at his touch.

	"Not very," she said. "I do the best I can."

	"As far as I'm concerned," he said, "you could just stand
there and look beautiful."

	Her face reddened. Beautiful? Dirty and covered with sweat?
Hardly. But she warmed at his words. Neither he nor Josh had touched
her before, and now he was calling her beautiful. She fought back an
unexpected surge of desire. Then Josh came striding up and they went
back to work.

	They had barely begun to empty the outbuilding, but Angela was
nearly exhausted from the labor and the heat. They walked over to the
office building when the two hours were up.

	"We'd better start watching the sea," Josh said. "It's coming
roughly from the south-southeast. If we just keep somebody scanning
with binoculars we ought to see it in time."

	"OK, Josh," said his boss, "Thanks for doing the calculations.
But I think both of us ought to be on the lookout."

	"Can I help?" said Angela. "I think I could see a big wave
coming."

	"Oh, sure," said Jim. "I'll get another pair of binoculars.
But we're all going to have to be out there on the porch until it
comes."

	"All right, Jim," Angela said. "I'm thirsty, and I expect you
are, too. I'll bring out some drinks for all of us."

	Just then, however, Josh yelled.

	"It's here!" he said. "Down the stairs!"

	In the basement they waited in silence. Each wondered whether
life was finished, the end of days coming here on this godforsaken,
beautiful island a thousand miles from a civilized shore. Angela
thought about her short life. She'd worked hard, done what she was
supposed to, put off pleasures in favor of extra work, lived in
libraries and classrooms. It wasn't all work. She had George. He loved
her. Maybe she loved him, she didn't really know, for she'd never been
in love the way the stories told of being in love. Even sex. She'd had
dreams, but not much experience. She'd been totally conventional,
when, really, she dreamed of scandalous things, things that would
shock her parents, her friends. And now, within moments, she might
die. She'd heard of tsunamis that tore up concrete bunkers just like
the one she was standing in. And then what of her dreams?

	Josh impulsively reached out and took her hand.

	"Hey, Angela," he said. "Maybe we're going to die, but I've
got time to tell you I think you are the most beautiful sight I've
ever seen, and I'd give anything to live long enough to take you to
bed."

	Jim laughed. "Well, he's not the only one, Angela. We've been
talking about you, and we both feel the same way. For three days now
you've been around this place driving us nuts. Your face. Those
incredible blue eyes. That gorgeous light brown hair, falling down in
those waves. Your breasts, poking at that T-shirt. Your legs. And just
the way you are. We're both absolutely crazy about you!"

	Angela was astounded. She blushed. She thought of the way
she'd worried about looking ratty in her makeshift costume, about the
fact that by her lights her hair was a sloppy mess. She still had
traces of the purple bruises she'd gotten on her legs somewhere along
the way. Her skin, though her sunburn had healed, was still blotchy in
spots. She had trouble believing what Jim had just said. She was so
startled she almost forgot the peril that was about to descend on
them.

	"But . . . ," she said. "But that's crazy! I've never looked
worse! You hardly know me, really. And I don't drive men nuts, I'm
just Angela!"

	"You're our Angela, and you're beautiful," said Jim. "Right,
Josh? We found her, and she's ours--law of the sea."
	Suddenly a resounding roar drowned out the familiar, steady
sound of the surf  that had become the background of their lives. They
heard no sounds of destruction, no breaking glass, no tearing wooden
partitions, no desks or chests being pounded into bits, only the
deafening crash of millions of tons of water sweeping away nearly
everything in its path.

	Water, not a stream but a solid bolt of power, poured down the
stairway into the basement, utterly dark as the lights went out. The
raging flood slammed the three of them against each other and,
finally, against the walls. Each held tightly to the other, slipping,
sliding, all three together being swept off their feet and hurled
aside as the torrent hit. But the building held. More water came in.
Angela felt Josh lose his grip on her. He was swept away. Jim held on
a moment longer, then he, too was gone. She was utterly alone, trying
to hang onto a pipe that somehow she had found within her grasp. For a
second it seemed as if time had stopped--she was suspended between
life and death, pounded by a vengeful sea, an ocean that seemed
determined to take back the prize it had lost when Jim and Josh
rescued her. Then her hand was torn away from its precarious hold, and
she was falling, being hurled one way, then another. Water slapped at
her face. She was submerged. She despaired, knowing that she was going
to die. Then the roar, the hellish noise, the roar that she thought
must have gone on for hours, suddenly stopped. An eerie silence
descended. The wave had passed. She struggled to regain her feet,
found herself against the wall and managed to push herself up. Water,
waist high, swirled about her. But she had survived.

	  Never in her life had Angela lived through such a terrifying
moment. Never had she been frightened to the depths of her being. She
found it difficult to believe she was still there, still breathing,
still able to think after such an event, so harrowing that her blood
still pounded in her ears for long minutes after the wave was gone.
She heard someone cough, retch.

	Jim spoke first. He was only two or three feet from her.

	"I guess it was a little one," he said. Then he smiled in the
darkness. "But it'll do until a big one comes along."

	Suddenly they were laughing, hugging each other, kissing, with
abandon. Josh waded over and joined them. The fact of survival was
sinking in.

	And Angela began to think in earnest. Something had changed,
somehow. Soaked through, bedraggled, utterly blind except for the
sliver of light that came from the place a door had once led to the
basement stairway, she heard again in her mind the words Jim had said
just before the wave had struck. "We're both absolutely crazy about
you." This time she heard them in a different way. She really heard
them as the praise they were. She accepted them. She was attractive.
Very attractive, apparently. She had deeply affected these two rugged,
powerful men, the kind of men she had daydreamed about all her life
and never thought she would have at her side. And then she remembered,
"she's ours--law of the sea." Like a treasure they had found, she
thought. She smiled. Suddenly she told herself  that possibilities
always before out of her reach, always unattainable, might now be
within her grasp.

	But her circumstances hadn't changed--she was still committed
to a man a thousand miles away. And yet . . . .

	Her mind continued to churn as they struggled up the stairs,
heading for light. They met chaos. Jumbled furniture, broken, torn
asunder, lay strewn throughout the rooms they walked through. No door
still hung on its hinges. No window held its glass. Nothing was left
unharmed except for three survivors, each one slightly bruised, none
hurt at all seriously. Angela gave thanks to her God. She suspected
the others did, too, as they stood and surveyed the wreckage.

	"God, what do we do first?" Josh breathed.

	"Shelter," said Jim. "In case you hadn't noticed, there's no
roof on this building. We've got to rig a shelter of some sort."

	"OK," said Josh. "Let's see if any of the other buildings made
it."

	Making their way through the debris, they stepped out into a
perfectly ordinary day. Sun beating down. A mild breeze. Sand. Surf.
On the ground, however, nothing was normal. Boards, steel reinforcing
rods, chunks of concrete, shards of glass were scattered everywhere.
Not a tree was left standing. They picked their way all around the
building, only to find more devastation.

	"OK" said Jim, "Now we check the emergency storage site."

	Josh led the way toward a tangled pile of tree trunks fifty
feet from the office building.

	"It's there," Josh said. "Under that log just to the right of
the big piece of tin."

	They used loose boards, of which there was no shortage, to
scrape a heavy pile of wet sand off a pair of steel doors that had
been marked by a lone metal post. Josh opened a small fitting to
equalize the air pressure, and the doors came open easily, displaying
a concrete-lined hole solidly packed with wooden and cardboard boxes.
Within  an hour they had pulled out blankets, thin foam mattresses, a
well-equipped tool box, two large cans of water and a heavy package
Josh said was filled with dehydrated food. Jim gave Josh a meaningful
look as they unearthed a wooden box that held an emergency
communications radio, and that box was among those they left in
storage. Josh and Jim immediately fell to building a lean-to against
the wall of the office building, using the plentiful wooden debris.
Angela, no carpenter, learned from directions printed on the food cans
how they could feed themselves. Just after sundown they were well
provided for. The lean-to, large enough to hold the three of them
easily, was complete and rainproof; Angela had a fire going and was
preparing a Spartan meal. They ate in near silence, exhausted as much
from the day's emotional roller coaster as from the immense amount of
work they had done.

	"I don't know about you all, but I'm tired out of my mind,"
Jim said. "Now that I'm fed, I'm going to be asleep in thirty
seconds."

	Angela, virtually out on her feet, never even thought of
objecting to the sleeping arrangements. Within a few minutes she was
stretched out between them on the lean-to's floor of mattresses, still
wearing the makeshift clothes she had worn when the great wave
inundated them.

	She awakened once at the call of an outraged bird sometime
during the night. Finding Josh's hand firmly planted on her left
thigh, she smiled and removed it, then fell back into deep, dreamless
sleep.

	Once again she awoke, just after dawn, to find her companions
gone. She crawled to the open front of the lean-to and looked out to
see Jim stirring the embers of the fire. He turned, smiled, dropped
the stick he was holding and came to her.

	Standing over her, just in front of the entrance to their
sleeping chamber, he looked down.

	"How are you, lady?" he asked.

	She returned his smile.

	"I'm fine," she said. "I'm amazed, but I feel just fine. And
what adventures do you have in store for me today?"

	"Nothing much, I hope, " he said. "The one yesterday was
enough for me." He squatted, then sat beside her. Slowly, watching her
reactions, he put an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. She
met his advance and fell into his arms. He kissed her, tentatively at
first, then, as she returned the kiss, he held her tightly and began
to probe her open mouth with his tongue. Then she broke away,
suddenly.

	"Hey, I've got to get some water," she said, blushing. "Let me
get a drink." Wordless, he handed her a bottle that he found lying
just inside the lean-to's entrance. She drank, swirling the cool
liquid around in her mouth, then swallowing, marvelling at the
pleasure she could find in a simple drink of water. "Where's Josh?"
she asked.

	"Gone exploring," Jim said. "He wanted to see if there's
anything we ought to try to save from the surf. Good man."

	From the start, from the first time she had groggily made out
his features when she regained consciousness in the pilot's hut, she
had been drawn to this strong, knowledgeable man. That kiss, she knew,
was not meant as a simple greeting, but as a prelude. One kiss,
between improbable survivors, was perhaps an anomaly, something that
could be forgotten. She could take his last words and turn them into
the beginning of a conversation. But she could feel her own desire,
and she knew his was just as strong. Her old life of careful planning,
prudent restraint, loyalty to old-fashioned virtues, somehow seemed
far off, irrelevant. She had almost died, then escaped death again,
and never had she come close to experiencing the fantasies she barely
let herself acknowledge. Who could foretell the future? That day, that
morning, as the sun came blazing out of an iridescent sea, she could
cast caution aside, behave as wildly as she wished. And if death came
near again, then at least she would have lived.

	She closed the bottle and set it carefully to one side. Then
she reached out, willing her life to change forever.

	Jim pulled her across his lap, cradling her head in his arm.
He looked into her eyes, saw the invitation there, and kissed her
again, his other arm around her, allowing her to feel the passion he
had carefully suppressed before. She felt the roughness of  his bare
legs against her back through her thin shirt. She felt his tongue,
once more probing, this time more insistent. He pulled back and kissed
her eyes, then her neck. She felt her vulnerability, felt her
surrender. With his free hand he reached down to pull the shirt up,
over her breasts. She closed her eyes and let herself  bathe in
feelings of languor as he kissed her breast, and then she felt a new
wave of exquisite pleasure that came as his lips engulfed her nipple.
She sighed in contentment as his tongue once more touched her,
stroking, pulling sensation from her willing body. Then suddenly he
sat back.

	Her eyes opened. Josh stood looking down at them, a tiny smile
playing about his lips.

	"Hey, guys," he said. "That looks like fun, but what about
me?"

	Angela was chagrined. Would this lovely experience end here?
What if they fought? Josh had a right to complain. The thought of
these two men fighting over her thrilled her, then she stifled the
sensation, ashamed of herself. Had she lost all idea of civility?

	"Well, Josh," Jim said, "I guess since we're partners it's
share and share alike, especially since we both get credit for finding
her. Law of the sea, right?"

	Angela was taken aback. What could he mean? she wondered.

	"Think she can handle both of us?" Josh said, sinking to his
knees. He reached out and stroked her bare leg. "Maybe she'd like it!"

	Angela was thrown into confusion. She was lying in Jim's lap.
He was holding her, had been kissing her, and now Josh's hand was on
her thigh.

	"Wait a minute!" she said hotly. "I may be salvage, but I have
some choices here!" She jerked her arm from around Jim's shoulder.

	"Think about it," said Jim. "We're certainly not going to hurt
you. We both want you, but it's terribly important that you want us.
If Josh strokes your leg, and I kiss you, what's wrong with that? Like
he says, maybe you'll like it. I think you might."

	And she knew that she did have choices. They were sharply
limited, however. She knew that. Jim had made a statement--he and Josh
were partners. If she spurned one, she spurned them both. And she
could not bring herself to do that. She was still pondering when Jim's
lips found her mouth again, and she found herself responding to his
kiss. She clutched him, she kissed him back. And she could feel
Josh's hand moving up toward her hip, her belly, her breast. As his
hand touched her nipple she knew she had made her choice, probably
before he even returned to the hut.

	Jim's kiss became more impatient. His tongue found hers, then
raked her teeth, marked her lips, turned to the dark recesses of her
mouth. Josh's hand moved down to her stomach, only to be replaced by
Jim's on her breast. With one hand she grasped the firmness of one of
the timbers that supported the lean-to; it seemed, she thought, to
give her a measure of connection with reality. With the other she held
onto Jim. He ran a hand up her arm, stroking her where she gripped the
wooden post. She felt something like jolts of electricity, centered on
her breast, course through her body. She felt her vagina begin to
lubricate. She was wildly excited. At the same time, she was
frightened. What was she doing? Could this really be Angela? Then Jim
broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.

	"You've accepted this, haven't you?" he said. "But if you
didn't still feel unsure, you wouldn't be our Angela. Josh, let go of
her."

	Josh obediently removed his hand from Angela's breast.

	"Did you see that quarter-inch nylon line over by the office
door, partner?" Jim said. "Could you bring me, say, twenty feet of
it?"

	Josh looked mystified. "Sure, Jim," he said, and strode toward
the door. "This what you mean?" He held up a length of white rope.

	"Yes," said Jim. Then he turned to Angela, still lying in his
arms. "Your holding on to that stanchion gave me an idea. Two men is a
bit much. But suppose you didn't have any choice at all? Suppose you
were entirely in our power, and you had no say in what we did?"

	"But I do have a say," Angela said. "I could simply tell you
to let me go, and you would." But she was not really sure. Would he?

	"Maybe. Maybe right now," Jim said. He moved his leg so that
it would support her head, and took a penknife from his pocket, opened
it and began to cut a length of line. "But we're going to tie you up,
sweet girl, and then you'll have no choices at all. What's more, I
think you'll like it. We'll make you feel so good you'd not have
believed it possible."

	Angela felt a stab of fear.

	"Tie me up? You mean, tie me up, with that rope?"

	"Good God," said Josh. "What are you doing, Jim? This is
crazy!"

	"I don't think so, Josh," he said. "We're not going to hurt
you, Angela. Really. I'd cut my hand off rather than hurt you. But
we're going to tie you up, painlessly, and you'll love it."

	Oh, God! thought Angela. A silly thought went through her
head--be careful what you wish for! Her fantasies, just fantasies she
never thought of realizing, were coming back to tantalize her. Could
she do this? Could she really let this man tie her up? But he had
already shown that he could, and would, give her pleasure. He had had
plenty of chances to force her to do his bidding, to hurt her if he
wanted, and he had not. In fact, his mere kiss had driven her crazy
with lust. No, not crazy, she thought. Sane. Sane with lust.

	Jim had quickly pulled the T-shirt over her head and was
already fastening the line around her wrist. The white of the rope
contrasted strongly against the tan of her arm but almost matched her
breasts, so white that blue veins were visible under her skin. He used
a knot she didn't recognize, held it tightly against her and jerked
with his other hand. The knot didn't give. Then he reached underneath
her and picked her up, one hand under her knees, the other beneath her
neck. He lowered her gently to a mattress just inside the door. She
could still see the sun, the sand, the broken trees. She lay limp,
unresisting.

	"Do it quickly," she said, "before I change my mind."

	Jim, fastening the other end of the line he'd just tied to her
wrist to the stanchion she'd been holding, said, "Too late. It's
done." Then he pulled off the oversize shorts she was wearing, baring
her most private secrets.  "Josh. you take care of her legs." He
tossed a length of rope to Josh. She pulled hard with her tethered
right wrist  It moved a few inches, then stopped, held fast. She
breathed deeply. Yes, it was too late. She could feel Josh at work on
her ankle, and Jim was already knotting the line around her left
wrist. How could she be both terrified and exhilarated?

	"Come on, Jim," Josh finally said. "We've got to strip, too.
Wouldn't be fair, otherwise."

	Angela simply watched as the two men took off their clothes
hurriedly. Both of them were solidly erect. Both bodies were
magnificent. She was pinioned, helpless. Like her arms, her legs were
spread apart. She was totally vulnerable. No more decisions, now, she
thought, that's certain. Whatever happens, happens.

	To her surprise, Josh took the first step. He leaned over, put
his mouth on one nipple and caressed it with his tongue. Then he
looked up, stared at her face.

	"My God, that's wonderful!" he said. Meanwhile, Angela felt
the electricity shoot down from her breast to her vagina. Her body
jerked. She said nothing, but shifted her glance and looked Jim
directly in the eyes.

	"Hey, take it easy!" said Jim. "Let's help her into the mood
real slowly. I'm just going to stroke her a little, then give her a
kiss she'll remember. You just follow what I do."

	He put his hand on an ankle and gently swept up past her knee,
giving her a delicious sensation of pleasure, not so strong as the one
Josh's treatment of her nipple had sent. But delicious. He stroked the
inside of her thigh.

	"Do you feel that, Angela?" he asked. "It's only the
beginning. Soon I'm going to touch your breast. That will be even
better."

	Angela knew that he was right. She waited.	

	Then Josh returned, stroking her forehead, running his fingers
through her hair, finally surprising her by placing his lips on hers,
giving her a gentle kiss. Jim's hand continued to stroke her. Then he
moved it to her breast, gently kneading her flesh, just touching the
nipple as if by accident. She moved her arm, reaching to put it around
his back. But the rope stopped her. She let her arm  fall back to the
mattress. Nothing was to be her fault, but nothing would be by her
will, either. Like or not, she had to be totally passive. She began to
like it.

	Jim moved onto the mattress beside her and reached out for her
stomach. He stroked it, making slow circular motions. Josh began
caressing the inside of her thigh. As yet neither had touched her sex,
but her excitement was building as she watched and felt these two
muscular, gorgeous men fondling her body.

	Josh, seemingly unable to help himself, fell on one nipple
with his mouth at the same time he sent his hand into her pubic hair,
searching for her secret place. He found it. Two fingers crept
stealthily into the lips of her vagina. At the same time, Jim was
sucking the fingers of her left hand while he moved his own free hand
onto her other breast and began to knead her nipple. She gasped.

	"I think Josh is going to begin the really good part of this
adventure for you, girl," Jim said. "You're going to feel wonderful."

	Almost hypnotized, she waited expectantly. 

	Josh's fingers moved slowly in the wetness of her quim. Her
hips jerked, and his hand moved farther in. He touched her clitoris
and once more her body leapt. She raised a hand--and it was held fast
by the rope that tied it to a post. Jim was still kneading her breast,
flicking her nipple, as he leaned over to kiss her. She could have
turned her head--after all, it was free. But she didn't feel free. She
felt a desire stronger than anything she had ever imagined. As his
lips descended toward hers she opened her mouth. His tongue met hers.
She sucked his teeth; he rammed his tongue deeper into her mouth.

	Jim broke the kiss. She stared and him and licked her lips,
wanting more. He spoke to Josh.

	"Seein' as how I'm senior here, I think I'll do the honors,
Josh, if you don't mind." Then he turned to Angela. "I'm going to do
with my tongue what Josh's hand has been doing. You'll like it even
better. I don't think you're entirely unhappy, are you? "

	She shook her head, wordlessly signifying the negative. Josh
slowly removed his hand from her vagina. He handed a folded blanket to
Jim, who put his large hand under her and raised her buttocks enough
to slip it beneath. Then, once more, she felt a hand enter her
wetness. Having found his point of entry, Jim put his head between her
legs and began to explore her with his tongue. As her ecstasy built,
Josh once again surrounded a nipple with his mouth, using his tongue
to bring her to new heights. And Jim's tongue found her clitoris.
Josh's hand held the other breast, fondling her nipple.

	Great rippling shocks went through her entire body from Josh's
tongue on her nipple, across to the other breast he was touching, deep
into her groin, where she was feeling the delicious roughness of Jim's
tongue gently rasping her clitoris. She felt the electricity in her
mouth; her lips trembled. Her very eyelids felt sensations of
pleasure. She jerked at her cords, frantically trying to grasp the
human flesh that was giving her so much pleasure, pleasure so rich
that it was almost unbearable. But the ropes held her fast. Her body
jerked uncontrolled.

	Jim's tongue continued its leisurely caresses. Her body jerked
again. He reached up and placed a hand on each hip, holding her lower
regions motionless as she writhed. The surges of pleasure increased
until tiny drops began to escape her open mouth. She closed her lips
and swallowed. The powerful shocks continued. Increasingly she lost
control of herself. She began to mew, to make tiny sounds, gasping,
feeling a catch in her throat as Jim's tongue hit home again. And then
she began to fly, to feel herself bodily lift off the mattress, her
heels and head supporting her, as she moaned in--pleasure? pain?
something she couldn't even recognize? Her climax came as a wave,
building in her fingers, coming through her wrists, starting at her
ankles and running swiftly up her open thighs, through her breasts,
gaining strength from Josh's continued strokes with tongue and hand,
until finally, finally, after what seemed an eternity of pleasure, it
lighted her vagina and she moaned once more, long and low, suddenly
breaking into a sob. And then the wave receded, slowly, back the way
it came, through her breasts, through her thighs and arms, down to her
ankles, her wrists, her hands. She was limp. No ropes were needed. She
was spent. And yet . . . .  And yet . . . .

	In another moment she was calling out anxiously for Jim to
stop, for Josh to let her go--she could no longer stand the
sensations, her parts were too tender. The two men did her bidding.
Josh leaned back and stared at her flushed face. Jim raised himself to
his knees, leaving her vagina, swollen, red, its lips distended, open
to the air. She watched Jim wipe her liquids off his face with the
back of his hand. And yet . . . .  And yet . . . .

	"Fuck me," she said in a broken voice. "Fuck me now!," she
said more loudly. "I want you inside me! Now!"

	Jim smiled.

	"I think she may be liking this," he said to Josh. "You think
so?"

	"Maybe," said, Josh, grinning. Then he sobered. "But since you
had the first chance, maybe now . . . ."

	"Naturally," said Jim, "it's your turn. What I want you to do
now, though, is take it easy. Just slip it in and let it lie there a
while. You'll like that, Angela. Josh is not too big, but he can make
an impression. So go ahead, Josh. But take it easy, make it last, and
she'll feel every minute of it."

	"Thanks," said Josh, as Jim rolled out of the way, sliding up
toward the head of the mattress. He leaned over and kissed Angela, who
by now was looking wide-eyed at him, murmuring something even she
could not interpret. Then he was gone, and she saw Josh's face,
smiling, loom over hers as his hard, smooth penis slid into her
dripping vagina. She once more pulled at her ropes, trying to put her
arms up to hold him. And once more she failed, for the ropes held her
fast. But she pulled her feet up as far as they would go and opened
her legs as wide as she could, only to squeeze Josh tightly as he
entered her. He came to rest. Jim was right; she felt comfortably
filled, not yet greatly stimulated, but full of almost unbearable
anticipation. Finally, she pushed with her hips, trying to force him
to begin to move. He slid out, nearly all the way, and her buttocks
rose to chase him. Then he came slowly back, filling her, gently
pushing until his penis hit her cervix. A sensation of glory was
rising through her whole body from down there, where her vagina
engulfed  Josh's penetrating tool. Then he pushed her back, sliding
out, then deep once more. The waves of pleasure began to rise again.

	Suddenly she felt a new sensation, one strange and unsettling.
A hand beneath her buttocks. A finger, slippery, touching her anus.

	"Don't worry, Angela," Jim said. "You've got more ways of
getting pleasure than you ever dreamed of. I'm just going to touch
that spot, maybe give it a little surprise. You'll see. You'll think
it's wonderful!"

	He was wrong about her--her dreams had been more imaginative
than he thought. She shivered, feeling the new sensation as she still
rocked back and forth from the shocks of Josh's rhythmic thrusts, once
more gathering storms of electricity in her upper arms and in her
thighs. Her buttocks wriggled as the finger penetrated, ever so
gently, stretching her anus very slightly. It went deeper. Then it was
joined by another, stretching her, yet the pleasure still grew, all
over her body, coming now from twin sources, her vagina and her anus.
This time her climax came suddenly, with renewed force, just as she
felt the spurt of Josh's fluids joining her own deep in her vagina.
Once more she moaned with pleasure--or pain? She didn't know. She
didn't care. Again, she felt absolutely spent. And yet . . . . And yet
. . . .

	Josh fell full length on her body, breathing hard, gasping in
her ear until his breath began to slow, pinning her to the mattress.
After a moment he rolled off, and she could see Jim, looking down at
her with a smile.

	"I don't think we're quite through here, do you, Angela?"

	She couldn't answer. Somehow, her voice didn't work. But a
tiny smile came to her lips.

	"I thought so," said Jim. "Now just relax, we need to
rearrange the bonds a bit."

	She didn't care. She just lay there, waiting. For something.
She wasn't sure what. She was afraid she couldn't stand any more. And
yet . . . .

	Josh started loosening the ropes from the posts on his side,
while Jim did the same on the other. She noticed that while Josh's
penis had shrunk almost back into his groin, Jim's was still
erect--erect and pointed at her, she thought, shivering.

	The two men reached for her, picked her up as if she weighed
nothing, and turned her over, so that she was lying on her stomach.
Then they refastened the cords.

	"It would help," Jim said, "if you'd get up on your hands and
knees. The ropes are a bit looser."

	She felt limp, still dazed, in some sort of sexual trance. But
she managed to pull herself to her knees, resting her forearms on the
mattress.

	"Now sit up, please," Jim said, "and open your knees."

	She did as he asked. Then Josh looked at Jim.

	"Now, Josh," Jim said, "Angela's going to need some
stimulation right there where it counts--that little nub, you know? So
while I'm working up top, you see what you can do with the bottom.
Just wait, Angela, it will be even better."

	Josh lay down next to her, his hand stroking her thigh.

	"Now, girl," Jim said, "lean forward again. What I'm going to
do now, it may hurt a little at first. But I'll take it very slowly,
and it won't hurt forever. It's going to feel big, real big. But
you'll get used to it, and you'll like it. A lot."

	So she leaned forward, her buttocks high, offering herself to
Jim. She was tied. There was no way she could evade this, she thought
hazily, she could only make it easier on herself by co-operating.
	"Josh, time to start," said Jim. "Just slow and easy--she may
be a little tender there. Angela, just relax, he won't hurt you."

	She did. She felt his fingers in her sex, her dripping,
swollen sex. And as she did they moved farther, slipped into the
wetness and began to caress her. She threw back her head and moaned
once more, quietly. Jim's fingers joined those of Josh as he brought
out fluids with which to ease his way into her body. Then only Josh's
hand was left.

	And once more she felt a hand caress her buttocks, a finger
find its way into her anus. New shocks began to pour through her--she
couldn't believe she was still able to feel. But she felt the mattress
give behind her, and almost immediately something bigger, not a
finger, was pressing at the entrance to her backside. Consciously, she
relaxed her sphincter as much as she could, fearing what she knew was
coming, yet excited beyond all that she had experienced on this
blissful morning.

	Slowly Jim's penis entered her, distending her anus, while
Josh used his fingers to caress her clitoris. She trembled, and waited
as, inexorably, that huge penis found its way inside. It did hurt.
Then something--she couldn't describe the new sensation--but she felt
it. Gradually she felt less uncomfortable, gradually her bowel
accommodated the intruder. And gradually her arousal continued to
build. It was almost more than she could bear. She wondered--was this
pain? Or a new pleasure? She couldn't say. She didn't care. Suddenly,
she jerked backward, impaling herself deeply on Jim's solid shaft. It
hurt, a shock. Then the pain receded, more and more, and was replaced
by a feeling of satisfaction, of  contentment. And, all the time, she
felt Josh's fingers, touching her, raising her to yet a new plateau of
pleasure. Jim rested, inside her, his hands around her, caressing her
breasts.

	"OK, my girl?" Jim asked. 

	She raised her head, glad for a moment to get her breath,
while at the same time enduring those indescribably delicious feelings
in her rear, in her quim, in her nipples.

	She managed to speak. "Oh, yes!" she breathed.

	Then before her eyes she saw Josh's penis, no longer shrunken,
not yet quite hard. Stretching forward just a bit she was able to get
it into her mouth. As her lips closed, she felt Josh shiver. But he
kept his hand moving, moving, sending shocks through her each time a
finger brushed her clitoris. She used her own tongue to pleasure him.
She could no longer distinguish one sensation from another--she was
floating in a haze of sexual pleasure she had never imagined could
exist.

	Jim pulled back, then came forward again, not quite so slowly.
Her waves of pleasure built. Or was it pain? She didn't know. He
withdrew again, plunged forward, hard. She met him. And within seconds
they had clicked into a solid rhythm. He pushed, retreated; she
accepted him, she swallowed him, then she felt him go backward--and
push forward once more. Josh's penis in her mouth was hard, somehow
something to hold on to with her mouth, for her hands were still tied,
she was held fast. She was thinking, still, in her haze. She knew that
nothing remotely like this had ever before happened to her. And she
knew she was in ecstasy.

	As the motions continued, in her vagina and in her bowel, new
waves of electric pleasure built, screamed through her whole body,
then, just when she thought she couldn't stand any more, more came,
higher, stronger. She heard keening, knew that it was her voice,
sounding as she opened her lips and momentarily eased the pressure on
Josh's penis. Then she clamped down on him again.

	Finally, she reached the peak, and with a mounting, final
crescendo, her climax stiffened her. She screamed in joy, in pleasure,
in pain, in some sensation she couldn't name. And then she simply
collapsed on Josh's body, his penis gushing into her mouth, she
swallowing, then moaning, then sucking in ecstasy, one thing then
another, just as she felt Jim's hot fluids spurt into her rectum. And
Jim, too, collapsed.

	They lay there tangled, not speaking, for several minutes.
Then Jim began to stir. He sat up. Josh and Angela looked at him.

	"I guess it's time for me to find that radio in the emergency
bunker," he said. "I think I can get it running in an hour or so, now,
if somebody will pump the generator." He stood and untied the ropes
that bound Angela. Then he began to dress.

	Hesitantly, Angela looked up. She heard the surf pounding,
felt the sun's heat and the cool breeze that made it tolerable. Felt
Josh's body against hers. She had never felt so fulfilled. And yet . .
. . And yet  . . . .

	     It was an effort for her to talk, to leave behind the
passivity that she had found so liberating. But she had to speak, to
make her wishes known.
	"Jim . . . . Uh, I don't think you should hurry. Why don't we
clean up, get something to eat and have a nap? Then see whether it's
really time for you to go to work."
	Jim smiled. "I guess there's no need to hurry," he said. 

				------THE END------ 

Please write to me at Janey98@hotmail.com I'll be glad to forward any
messages to Angela, but I'll read them first.

























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