Paradise Found on a Deserted Island

CHAPTER ONE (Present Day)

Marie ran out from under the palm trees and looked up thinking she heard the sound of an airplane in the distance. Moving her hand up to shield her eyes from the tropical sun her long armpit hair fluttered in the gentle breeze. Her tone and naked body tensed trying desperately to hear what she hoped would be their rescuer. It had been four months since the three women were stranded on this unchartered tropical island in the South Pacific ... four very interesting months.

Twisting slightly to the left, she cupped her hand to her ear to improve her hearing. At this angle the breeze caused her long, dark pussy hair to waft to and fro. Hearing nothing she turned to her two friends and asked, "Did either of you hear anything?" She didn't need an answer to know they didn't, couldn't.

Dana and Emily were on the ground in a 69 position noisily licking and sucking each other's succulent pussy. Dana was on top with her cute ass facing Marie. After four months without shaving, they were all quite hirsute now and Marie never ceased to be amazed at how cute the covering of girl fur made Dana's pussy and rosebud look. Emily's tongue snaked up and down, side to side and in and out seeking and finding Dana's large clit among the glorious jungle between Dana's legs. Emily, on her back, had her knees up with Dana's head between her legs. The sun bleached blonde hair on Emily's thighs glistened in the sunlight.

Marie's hand absently moved up to her breast as her fingers began to make circles around her nipple. Her other* hand lightly caressed the treasure trail beginning at her navel and moved down to her luscious pussy hair; combing it out with her fingers. She made smaller and smaller circles around her nipple until it stood out and begged to be pinched. Her hand continued its journey between her legs and her fingers parted the hair covering her slit and slid in the wet folds of her womanhood.

Both Emily and Dana were moaning as they writhered and feasted on each other. Their hips moving to increase the pressure of the tongue lashings they received.

Marie's left hand was now a blur. Two, then three fingers moved in and out of her hairy pussy as her thumb slid back and forth across her clit with ever increasing pressure. Her right hand pinching and pulling her extended teats on the end of her substantial breasts.

Emily pushed her hips up into Dana's mouth and pulled Dana's head into her heaving pussy. At the same time, Dana ground her pussy on Emily's mouth to increase the friction on her clit. Marie, breathing heavily, squirted pussy juice and moaned. It wasn't choreographed, but it may have looked like it, as all three came at the same time. Here were three gorgeous, naked, 30-something women panting, heaving and moaning in orgasmic bliss on their tropical island.

Dana rolled off Emily, laid her head on Emily's stomach and absentmindedly combed her fingers through Emily's substantial blonde bush. Emily closed her eyes and savored the moment. Marie licked the girl-cum off her soaked fingers.

Recovering from her orgasm first Marie said, "I think I heard a plane. Let's go down to the beach and see."

CHAPTER TWO (Present Day)

The twin engine Beech Duke, level at 12,000 motoring along at 200 knots, coughed. 'What the hell was that?' thought Gary, the sole pilot as he scanned the instruments. He noticed a significant drop in manifold pressure on the left engine and looked out the window to see smoke streaming out the exhaust port. Adrenaline began to course through his veins as he read the emergency checklist from the back of his kneeboard aloud and checked off each item. Nothing helped. He shut the engine down, feathered the prop and applied more rudder to compensate for P-Factor.

Flying between the islands carrying mail and assorted other parcels wasn't a bad job, but it could be pretty boring when all you saw was endless ocean. Gary was a commercial pilot for a small island charter service he owned with one partner that also hauled mail to pay the bills. Every Thursday he made the rounds by himself in a Beech Duke. At 52 having sold several startups he was more than financially well-off and quite content to be sitting at 12,000 feet going 200 kts. But today, with only one engine, it wasn't boring.

The plane entered a puffy white cloud and all exterior visual references were replaced with— white. It was like looking out from inside a plastic milk jug. After a few seconds the Duke emerged into the clear and Gary saw more clouds ahead. For the next 20-minutes he was in and out of the white puffy clouds and fighting turbulence. Things got worse as the clouds began to darken and he saw lightning. Now instead of flying in and out of clouds, he was simply in. No visual references, flying on instruments.

Rain began to beat down on the skin of the plane. From close-by a simultaneous lightning flash and thunderclap was felt by Gary as the boom shook his guts. The Duke's electronics were fried and winked out. 'Great!' thought Gary, 'I'm in the clouds, one engine and now no avionics.'

Just then the turbulence increased and it was all Gary could do to keep the plane right side up. The Duke was tossed about like Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz. Gary's adrenal gland worked overtime as he concentrated on the little ball and magnetic compass ... trying to keep both in one spot. Feeling a change in pitch as he hit a downdraft Gary fought against the storm but the altimeter confirmed his fear as it wound down from 12,000 to 5,000. Altitude with one engine he would not get back. Then just as quickly he was out of it.

The center of the storm was behind him, the clouds were above him and he could see the ocean once more. He sighed and took a couple of deep breathes to slow his pulse rate. Scanning the instruments and flipping a few switches he confirmed everything was cooked. He looked at his watch and noted that he should be coming up on his next island stop in five-minutes. He would land there, call his partner and try to sort things out.

Five minutes went by, no island. Ten minutes went by, no island. Fifteen minutes went by, still no island and Gary realized the storm had blown him off course. With out any avionics he didn't know where he was. Then Murphy hit him square in the face as the second engine coughed and quit.

Gary tried a restart. No good. He tried again but the engine only sputtered, back-fired twice and died. He feathered it. His altitude was now 3,000 and falling at 300 ft/min. He looked in all directions for some sort of land - an island, a reef, anything to put the plane down on. Swimming alone in the middle of the Pacific Ocean wasn't his idea of fun.

There, just off the left he spotted an island and turned towards it. This was going to be close. He centered the white, sandy beach in his windshield, manually lowered the landing gear and turned the fuel selector and ignition switch to off. At 2,000 feet he could see most of the island and didn't see any indication of people or habitation. 'Great', an uninhabited island he thought, 'I'm going to be Gilligan!'

At 1,000 feet he saw the beach was sandy, a much better option than rocks or lots of logs and driftwood to cause problems. At 500' he was still over the water but could see he had it made. He put in 20 degrees of flaps and slipped to lose altitude. The plane touched down perfectly on the mains and rolled to a stop.

"A near perfect landing and no one to see.'' Gary said aloud to himself. "I'll give in a 9.5."

Looking around Gary saw he had landed below the high tide mark and would need to move the plane about 10' higher up the beech. The tide seemed to be coming in so Gary sprang into action. The sand was hard and compacted here, almost like asphalt, enabling Gary to push the plane. He grunted and groaned against the weight for the better part of an hour but eventually moved it past the high tide mark. He was exhausted and soaked with sweat.

Taking stock of the situation he thanked the Maker for his life and what seemed to be a decent island to land on. He could see coconut palms, bananas and mangos not too far from the beach. 'Well, I'll probably be here for a while,' he thought. 'I'll just get out of these sweaty clothes and take a dip in the ocean. That should be refreshing.'

CHAPTER THREE (Four Months Ago)

Four months ago, the three friends were on their way to a resort on Pago Pago for two weeks of fun and relaxation. The only way to get to the resort was by one of the small island-hopper charter planes. It was just the three of them in the back seat with the pilot up front on what they thought would be a short scenic flight across the chain of islands containing Pago Pago from the commercial airport in Fiji. After a short time they were over the ocean and out of sight of land. The pilot made a radio call and turned to them and said: "Now don't worry girls. We'll be out of sight of land for only about 20-minutes. Pago Pago is at the far end of the crescent shaped island chain and we're cutting across the middle of the arc made by the islands. Just sit back and relax."

The girls took his advice and began talking among themselves about how much fun they would have on this vacation. Marie, the dark haired one of the three, announced that she planned to wear nothing but her bikini the whole time as she pointed to the picture of the beach in the resort's brochure. "The first thing I'm going to do is - nothing! I plan to sit on the beach all afternoon with a pitcher of Mai Tais and work on my tan." Marie enthusiastically stated.

"Me too," chimed Emily, the lightest of the three. She had dirty- blonde hair, was taller than the other two and kept fidgeting trying to get her long, slender legs comfortable in the somewhat cramped interior of the small plane. "My bag has three new bikinis and not much else in the way of clothes. The brochure says that there are no dress codes anywhere in the resort; just that you have to be 'covered' in the dining areas. I may even try going topless on the beach. One problem with having large breasts like I do is that bikinis don't really fit and the straps dig into my neck with the weight of my boobs pulling on them." Said Emily as she pushed out her generous chest and stretching the fabric of her blouse.

"One problem?" said Dana. "There are the others? I wish mine were as big as yours."

"Oh Dana you know yours are perfect." replied Emily. "Even when the boys ogle me they always spend just as much time watching your nipples push out your blouse. You know your boobs bounce and jiggle seductively when you walk. I know you wear those minimal support bras just to tease them."

"Well, I guess you're right." answered Dana while pulling the bottom of her blouse down and looking at how her large breasts and long nipples easily pushed out the fabric. "I've never had any complaints from guys; even when I'm standing next to you and your 34DD's."

"Look over there!" said Marie with a hint of alarm in her voice as she pointed directly in front of the plane. "It looks like there's a bad storm up ahead."

Hearing her remark the pilot turned and said, "Make sure your seat belts are buckled. It may get a bit bumpy. These storms pop up on us now and again with no warning. This wasn't in the forecast this morning. I'm going to give this one a wide berth and steer around it. It's too big to go over top of it. This will extend our flight time a bit, but trust me the ride will be much smoother."

What the pilot didn't say was that his weather radar was painting a growing category four thunderstorm. One of the mean ones that was as wild as they were unpredictable. He got on the radio again and told the controller he was diverting to the east for storm avoidance and would descend from 9,000 to 3,000 feet to get under the rapidly building edge of the storm. The plane simultaneously banked and pitched down as he tried to out race the danger he knew was in those dark clouds. As they descended through 5,000 feet the clouds over took them. It got dark fast and hard rain pounded the little plane sounding as if some one were shooting at them. The girls held each other's hands in fear. Dana started to breathe really fast. She was very scared and began to hyperventilate. Marie noticed this and told her not to worry that this probably happens all the time and the pilot seemed to know what he was doing. Emily was white as a ghost.

At 4,000 feet the pilot leveled the wings and continued their bumpy descent. He was following the axioms learned in his 30 years of flying the South Pacific: aviate, navigate, communicate ... in that order. At 3,000 he leveled off trying desperately to maintain altitude and attitude as the storm shook the plane violently. He couldn't go any lower in case the heading they were on took them towards one of the dormant volcanoes that existed on each island. They weren't that big, but big enough if you ran into one. The weather radar painted nothing but red all around him.

Suddenly the little plane was lifted almost instantly from 3,000 to 8,000 feet as a turbulent updraft from the mighty storm had its way with them. G forces pushed everyone down in their seat. The compass wandered all over the place as turbulence pushed the plane this way and that. Just as quickly, they started going down as they moved out of the updraft and into a violent down draft. Everything in the cabin not secured flew up to the ceiling as the pilot and the girls were forced against their seat belts. Emily groaned, Dana gasped, Marie prayed.

The rapid up and down movements compounded by more yaw than the human inner ear was designed to handle went on for what seemed like hours but was really only minutes. The sky began to lighten and the turbulence abated slightly, although it was still a rather bumpy ride. Dana reached for the barf bag just in case. Emily let out a sigh of relief and Marie thanked the Maker.

The pilot knew the worst was yet to come as they were now under the spreading anvil of the storm. He fought the rough air and stabilized the plane at 3,000 feet. Then it happened. Hail! Golf ball sized chunks of frozen ice pelted the plane. The staccato of the hail was deafening as the airplane's aluminum skin took a beating beyond design specifications. The wings now looked like Thor took a ball-peen hammer and in a rage tried to beat the plane out of the sky. The shape of the wings was permanently changed and the airfoil ceased to provide any lift. They began to lose altitude rapidly.

The pilot was panicked. Nothing like this had ever happened before. His lungs felt like someone was stabbing him as his breath came in short, painful bursts. Now his chest felt like someone had hit him with a sledge hammer as his heart-attack progressed. He groaned loudly, clutched at his shirt and bent forward.

The girls heard and saw all this. Marie, a nurse, knew what was happening. She instructed the pilot to try and breathe slowly and keep flying the plane!

The pilot knew this was the big one. He could feel it. He knew he wouldn't last long and had to get the plane down before he died and it crashed; killing everyone. Looking out the window he saw what might be an island partially obscured by the clouds. He banked the plane hard to the left and pushed the nose down. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable. He was losing consciousness but determined not to allow the girls to die too.

At 1,000 feet they broke out of the clouds and fortunately were lined up on what seemed like the only straight portion of beach on the island. With the lift gone from the wings they descended fast; too fast. The pilot fought the plane's sloppy controls and with the last ounce of his strength and as he exhaled the last breath from his dying body ... crash landed the plane on the beach. As the plane skidded on its belly with the propellers throwing sand every which way, the plane's momentum finally died, as did the pilot.

Stunned, but alive, the girls looked at each other to confirm they were unhurt and got out of the plane quickly as flames and smoke poured out from the engine compartment. Marie bravely opened the pilot's door and confirmed what she had feared. He was dead from a massive heart attack. She turned and ran away from the plane calling to Emily and Dana to follow her, "Run! It's on fire and may explode! We need to get behind those trees at the edge of the beach. Run!"

The plane was in bad shape. The landing gear never came down so the propellers were bent and the bottom of the fuselage was scraped so bad sheet metal was sheared off and lying around. The wings were separated from the fuselage and leaking fuel.

Just as they got to the trees there was a tremendous explosion as the fuel went up in a fireball consuming what was left of the plane ... cremating the pilot.

The girls were crying and in a state of shock. After a few minutes Marie, always the sensible one, took their hands and said, "I don't know how but I feel like this will work out. How we got here was terrible but look around, it looks like a tropical paradise. All we have to do is wait until they come to rescue us. We should throw sand on the fire to put it out and try to salvage what we can from the plane."

Dana, sniffling], said, "I guess you're right. We need to get a hold of ourselves. It may take a couple of days for the rescuers to find us, but I'm sure they will. Until then, we have each other."

Emily was still in shock and couldn't speak. Her blouse and skirt had ripped on a sharp piece of metal as they got out of the plane and were barely there. She stood with her DD's encased in a transparent bra and matching transparent thong looking like a refugee in a science fiction movie. Marie noticed that she and Dana were no better off. In the excitement of exiting the plane she must not have felt her clothes rip.

That was four months ago. They still haven't been rescued. They managed to survive quite nicely thanks to the near constant 78 degree temperature, luscious tropical fruit a small fresh-water stream they found and the shelter they built. Their luggage and personal items were consumed by the fire. All they had was the tattered clothes on their backs. No toothbrushes, hair brushes, razors, rollers ... nothing.

During the first week they waited by the beach every day and took turns as look out for the rescue plane. It never came. They enjoyed the nice beach, warm water and worked on their tans thinking they would soon be in Pago Pago. Since the clothes they wore on the flight were ripped up and since they really didn't bring any other clothes, they just wore their bras and thongs.

CHAPTER FOUR (Second week after crash)

During the second week they explored their area of the island; but not much more as they found all they needed close by. They had serious discussions about what to do. It was now obvious that they might be here for quite some time. Emily laughed and said, "Just like Gilligan." They all knew it was only too true. They collected food and built a rudimentary lean-to shelter from palm-fronds.

They were tired and sweaty from the work and went to the lagoon for a swim to cool down and relax. Dana announced that since it was just them and since no one else seemed to be on the island, "I might as well work on my all-over tan." Something she always wanted to do and took off her bra and thong.

Marie thought that was wonderful idea and removed hers as well.

"I'm not going to be the only one with tan lines when we get rescued." said Emily as she dropped hers in the pile.

They waded into the lagoon and splashed each other. The water initially felt cool on their skin and very refreshing. They stood knee-deep looking at each other. After two weeks of not shaving, their previously bald pussies were now sprouting growth that in the months to come would be luxurious hairy triangles. Armpits and legs showed stubble as well. Marie's hair, the darkest, was the easiest to see. Emily's blonde hair was barely noticeable.