www.abbysbooks.com © Abby Gold 2017 www.abbygold.com
Fantasy Island - Extract
Erotic Writing
No, she tells herself initially. Wait till you’re on dry land. How can you possibly come,
floating out here on the waves? Save it till later.
But all those recent memories are flooding her mind. That wonderful time recently up in the
jungle, and the amazing sessions in the cove.
Under the water, her pussy demands satisfaction.
She pulls herself up so she’s lying on the floating ring, her limbs sprawled, her bottom in the
water.
She laughs to herself – imagine a ship should come along to rescue them now, the lookout
spying a strange object in the sea.
“What is it, sailor?”
“Well, it looks like a naked woman, Captain.”
“You’ve gone mad, man – let me see. Good God, you’re right! A naked woman with big
breasts floating in the middle of the ocean with her legs open and – ”
Playing with herself.
Her hand creeps down to her crotch and she begins to press at herself very gently. Her other
hand lingers on her breasts. She thinks for a moment about how much pleasure her breasts have
been giving others in recent times – what compliments they have received, what kisses!
But now she is alone with them. There is no hand caressing them, as there so often is. No
arms thrown across them as in the night. No fingers playing absent-mindedly – or purposefully –
with her nipples.
She regards them and finds them pleasing, but her caresses are minimal – it is male hands she
likes to see, and feel, squeezing and touching them, not her own.
Her pussy, however, continues to crave attention, and there is no-one here to provide it but
herself – though the waves lap pleasantly at her pussy lips.
Slowly, slowly, she arouses herself, her mind drifting, in tune with her body, on a sea of sexual
memories.
Alan and Geoff cradling her between them; Harry and Lee in a pile on top of her; Carl licking
her endlessly whilst three or four stiff cocks rub gently across her face.
Oh, the joy of having an extreme sexual fantasy – an orgy of lust and sweat and spunk and
orgasms – whilst knowing that it will in fact come true very soon, and not just once, but
repeatedly and often!
Gradually, as she expends more energy with her hand and with her mind, she feels her orgasm
approaching. For a moment she hesitates. It is as if the real world is receding, as she absorbs
herself in sweet sexual fantasies and memories. How can she let herself go out here – doesn’t
she need to stay aware, make sure she’s holding the life ring and won’t get swept away? There
are no male arms here now to protect her – suddenly she realises how much she needs them and
appreciates them, how wonderful it is to always feel looked after.
Oh, you’ll be alright, she tells herself, and gripping a little more firmly to the ring with her
legs, she allows her second hand to also join the action, her fingers taking the plunge.
She doesn’t often bring herself to orgasm now, as there are always so many other willing
hands and mouths and cocks ready to take on that task. She rather enjoys the complete privacy
and abandonment of this moment. No rush, no pressure. No need to advise anyone else of the
event, no need to thank anyone, to flatter them or praise them for their skill.
She lingers just before the point of no return, suddenly looking at the sea all around her and
laughing to herself again at the ludicrousness of it.
She’s a mermaid, alone with the waves and the vast sky. She comes with a cry that no-one
hears – except maybe a few fish below the waves, or a wandering dolphin. And then she feels a
strange emotional outpouring – a primitive urge to commune with a deity.
Thank you, Neptune, she thinks, only half frivolously, for not letting me drown in the wreck.
Thank you to all the Gods for sending me this wonderful extra, unexpected life!
But when the last waves of pleasure have passed, she feels all of a sudden cold and scared and
unbearably lonely. Suddenly the isolation of the sea is too much and she craves the safety and
comfort of the island – and her men. She will look back on her private floating orgasm with
fondness, but now it is time to return to her companions, who will surely be waiting for her.
She slips into the water and begins to swim back towards the shore. Now she absolutely can’t
wait to get back. She swims as fast as she can back along the rope, sometimes pulling herself
along it, hand over hand, towards the beach.
Now she can see them – five or six of them – standing looking out towards her, concerned
surely, since she has been out there so long. They wave as they see her approaching and she
waves back.
The men run towards the surf and swim out in a group to greet her.
She swims into their welcoming arms, their fierce kisses and utterances of admonishment more
wonderful than she can bear.
Yes, her solo sex session the sea was nice and special and precious – but here with her men is
where she belongs.
They don’t even make it to dry sand before the ravenous fucking starts.
floating out here on the waves? Save it till later.
But all those recent memories are flooding her mind. That wonderful time recently up in the
jungle, and the amazing sessions in the cove.
Under the water, her pussy demands satisfaction.
She pulls herself up so she’s lying on the floating ring, her limbs sprawled, her bottom in the
water.
She laughs to herself – imagine a ship should come along to rescue them now, the lookout
spying a strange object in the sea.
“What is it, sailor?”
“Well, it looks like a naked woman, Captain.”
“You’ve gone mad, man – let me see. Good God, you’re right! A naked woman with big
breasts floating in the middle of the ocean with her legs open and – ”
Playing with herself.
Her hand creeps down to her crotch and she begins to press at herself very gently. Her other
hand lingers on her breasts. She thinks for a moment about how much pleasure her breasts have
been giving others in recent times – what compliments they have received, what kisses!
But now she is alone with them. There is no hand caressing them, as there so often is. No
arms thrown across them as in the night. No fingers playing absent-mindedly – or purposefully –
with her nipples.
She regards them and finds them pleasing, but her caresses are minimal – it is male hands she
likes to see, and feel, squeezing and touching them, not her own.
Her pussy, however, continues to crave attention, and there is no-one here to provide it but
herself – though the waves lap pleasantly at her pussy lips.
Slowly, slowly, she arouses herself, her mind drifting, in tune with her body, on a sea of sexual
memories.
Alan and Geoff cradling her between them; Harry and Lee in a pile on top of her; Carl licking
her endlessly whilst three or four stiff cocks rub gently across her face.
Oh, the joy of having an extreme sexual fantasy – an orgy of lust and sweat and spunk and
orgasms – whilst knowing that it will in fact come true very soon, and not just once, but
repeatedly and often!
Gradually, as she expends more energy with her hand and with her mind, she feels her orgasm
approaching. For a moment she hesitates. It is as if the real world is receding, as she absorbs
herself in sweet sexual fantasies and memories. How can she let herself go out here – doesn’t
she need to stay aware, make sure she’s holding the life ring and won’t get swept away? There
are no male arms here now to protect her – suddenly she realises how much she needs them and
appreciates them, how wonderful it is to always feel looked after.
Oh, you’ll be alright, she tells herself, and gripping a little more firmly to the ring with her
legs, she allows her second hand to also join the action, her fingers taking the plunge.
She doesn’t often bring herself to orgasm now, as there are always so many other willing
hands and mouths and cocks ready to take on that task. She rather enjoys the complete privacy
and abandonment of this moment. No rush, no pressure. No need to advise anyone else of the
event, no need to thank anyone, to flatter them or praise them for their skill.
She lingers just before the point of no return, suddenly looking at the sea all around her and
laughing to herself again at the ludicrousness of it.
She’s a mermaid, alone with the waves and the vast sky. She comes with a cry that no-one
hears – except maybe a few fish below the waves, or a wandering dolphin. And then she feels a
strange emotional outpouring – a primitive urge to commune with a deity.
Thank you, Neptune, she thinks, only half frivolously, for not letting me drown in the wreck.
Thank you to all the Gods for sending me this wonderful extra, unexpected life!
But when the last waves of pleasure have passed, she feels all of a sudden cold and scared and
unbearably lonely. Suddenly the isolation of the sea is too much and she craves the safety and
comfort of the island – and her men. She will look back on her private floating orgasm with
fondness, but now it is time to return to her companions, who will surely be waiting for her.
She slips into the water and begins to swim back towards the shore. Now she absolutely can’t
wait to get back. She swims as fast as she can back along the rope, sometimes pulling herself
along it, hand over hand, towards the beach.
Now she can see them – five or six of them – standing looking out towards her, concerned
surely, since she has been out there so long. They wave as they see her approaching and she
waves back.
The men run towards the surf and swim out in a group to greet her.
She swims into their welcoming arms, their fierce kisses and utterances of admonishment more
wonderful than she can bear.
Yes, her solo sex session the sea was nice and special and precious – but here with her men is
where she belongs.
They don’t even make it to dry sand before the ravenous fucking starts.
