Not Quite Gilligan's
She had suprised him. Startled him actually. But, now he didn't mind.
An animal gleam in her eye, the cavegirl ripped off her fur bikini top, exposing
her glistening, voluptuous breasts to the chill night air. Nude but for a flimsy
loincloth, cherry red nipples hardening instantly in the sea breeze, dishevelled
hair flying in the wind, she stood there like a pagan goddess, a goddess glad
that she had human worshippers and intent on making one of those lucky stiffs
worship a little more at her altar...
"Gina want Story Reader!" she growled, fixing the man lying on the ground in front of
her with a hungry, feral look. "Gina want him now!"
Staring up at her, Story Reader--or Story, as he was generally known--could feel the
familiar stirring beginning in his groin. He couldn't help himself--Gina was
incredibly hot, a dead-ringer for Raquel Welch in "One Million Years B.C.".
Of course, that wasn't too surprising.
_All_ of the cavegirls on the island looked like Raquel Welch.
The lifeboats had landed on the shores of Jim-Terring's Island a few days before.
Expecting the island to be deserted--as Jim had asserted it was--the castaways
were shocked to learn otherwise. Story could still vividly recall the
consternation that had flashed across his fellow author's faces that fateful day
when Cyanide Lou had rushed into camp, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Dudes!
May's been eaten by a caveman!", before collapsing in an exhausted heap.
It was bedlam. Their collective cries of horror were muted somewhat when, after
catching his breath and sucking down some coconut juice, Ivan had hurriedly
explained that his statement wasn't meant in the literal, cannibalistic
sense--what he had meant was that a caveman--with May as his willing partner--was
muffdiving like there was no tomorrow.
And the castaways' reactions on learning that the island was indeed inhabited by
a small tribe of cavefolk completed its 180 degree turn when they learned two
interesting facts. Fact number one--all of the cavegirls looked, and dressed,
like Raquel Welch in the aforementioned dinosaur pic. "Buxom bronzed babes in
bodacious bikinis," as one scribe had joyfully put it. Fact number two--the
cavemen, while not stunningly handsome, had been prodigiously endowed by nature,
both in size and stamina, when it came to their "packages."
Actually there was a third interesting fact as well, fortunate given the first
two. And that was that the sexual appetites of the cave dwellers were
incredible. The cavegirls had swooned over the (relatively) good-looking batch
of men that had washed up on their shores, while the cavemen, having to that
point subsisted solely on a diet of Raquel lookalikes and bored stiff of it, were
like kids in a dessert smorgasbord with the fantastic variety now literally at
their fingertips. They had never dreamt that women could come in such varied
shapes and sizes and colors! Not that the brave writers minded...
And so, in addition to doing each other, the castaways had expanded their erotic
horizons. A few less adventurous souls had muttered some warnings about tainting
the pristine neolithic culture that clearly existed on the island, but their
reservations were overwhelmed when they themselves were overwhelmed by the
rapacious cavefolk. Coming up for air, even the initial naysayers had to
admit--their new friends may have been primitive, but fucking certainly wasn't
rocket science and what the natives didn't know about it hadn't been discovered
yet! Plus they were good at keeping the sabertooth tigers at bay...
Indeed, the only downside that anyone had been able to come up with was that
Jerome had yet to figure out an appropriate story code to indicate cavemen (or
cavegirls), assuming of course that they ever made it back to civilization in
order to post a story.
All of which explained why Story was now frantically shedding his clothes, freeing
his throbbing erection, while Gina tore the barrier from around her loins
and, dropping to all fours, sinuously crawled towards him like a sleek jungle
pussy, wetting her full, red lips with her moist, pink tongue. Reaching him, she
wasted no time on preliminaries--she might not have been a woman of the 90's
(well, technically she was, though she didn't know that), but she knew what she
wanted and how to get it. Throwing him back against the ground, she straddled
his hips and in one fluid motion sank down on him, burying his hard shaft in her
molten depths.
"Uunngghh!" he cried as he felt himself being enveloped by her satiny oven. The
sensation was unbelievable, as Gina rose and fell, flexing her muscular thighs to
drive him in and out of her, over and over again. Reaching up to cup her heaving
breasts, diamond-hard nipples burning into his palms, he could feel himself
spiralling higher and higher.
"Story!"
"Yes!" His body shook.
"Story!!"
"Yes!!" It seemed like there was a small earthquake hitting the island.
"Story!!!"
With that last cry, the earthquake hit with full force. Or so it seemed to Story
Fan as he snapped awake to find himself being shaken frantically. "Hey, what do
you think you're doing?" he muttered angrily, shrugging Kristy's hand off his
shoulder.
"Sorry, but it looked like you were having a nightmare," Kristy explained, sitting
back down a few feet away, next to the blazing fire.
Story sighed with the memory of his dream. "No, not a nightmare," he said. "It
was a dream--you know, the cavegirl dream."
"Again?" Kristy asked, eyes widening with astonishment. "That's what, the third
time this week? Do you _ever_ dream of anything else?"
"Sue me. And I'll probably keep having the damn dream until I get to _finish_
it," he concluded pointedly.
"I already said I was sorry," she said. "I thought you were having a nightmare."
"No, no, I'm sorry," he replied, upset at himself for rebuking her for her
kindness. "I don't mean to snap at you. Thanks for being concerned; it's just
that each time the dream gets more vivid and just once- -just once!--I'd like it
to come to its conclusion. I mean, the cavebabe is the spitting image of Raquel
Welch! Can you imagine, me, doing Raquel Welch? Jim would turn green with
envy!"
"I'm sure," agreed Kristy out loud, though her thoughts were not quite as
sympathetic. Men were curious creatures. Here an orgy had been in full swing on
the island for nearly a week, with more and different couplings than anyone but
the most jaded writer of group sex stories could imagine, and yet Story was upset
he hadn't finished having sex in his dream with an imaginary Raquel Welch. On
the other hand, he _was_ kind of cute and had been a willing and imaginative
participant in the authors' reindeer games...
"Hey, I know what will cheer you up!" she announced, a bit of a smile playing
around the corners of her lips.
Over the last week, Story had come to know that hint of a smile well. When it
hinted, better things were sure to follow. "And what's that?" he asked, his
curiosity piqued.
"Let's go for a moonlight swim in the lagoon," she suggested. "I'll even wear my
fur bikini--for a little while, at least!"
Story laughed. "You don't own a fur bikini," he pointed out. "And if you did, it
went sailing away on the ship. But," he continued, "I'd be happy to go with you
anyway!"
"That's mighty big of you," she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him as they
arose.
"It's not too big yet," he replied with mock seriousness. "But it's likely to
get that way soon!"
Stepping away from the warmth of the fire, around which many of their fellow
castaways were either sitting--some alone, some in groups--sleeping, or engaged
in some carnal activity, Story and Kristy clasped hands and wandered off. The full
moon lit the way as they traipsed barefoot through the sand along the beach, the
balmy sea air blowing clean across their faces, gently rolling swells flooding
cool over their feet.
Shortly after they had made landfall, the writers had broken into sJiml bands to
explore the island in search of food and water. One such group had discovered a
freshwater lagoon a short ways inland, complete with its own little waterfall
splashing down into it. It had quickly become a popular destination for amorous
interludes. It had also become a hot spot for non- erotic entertainment as well
when, on a dare, The Bear had jumped into the stream above the waterfall and was
swept over the edge, taking a twenty foot plunge which ended in a gigantic
"splash!" as he landed in the lagoon. "Just like a wet-and-wild," he had
enthused as he emerged from the water, prompting a flurry of comments as to who
was exactly wet and wild--and how wet they exactly were. Following in his
footsteps--or pawprints--it had become a sort of right-of-passage for the
castaways to take the "lagoon-leap" as they termed it, and many embellished their
own plunges with twists, turns and barrelrolls. Many had gotten so good at it
that someone had suggested holding a competition, but some of the genre writers
complained that they wouldn't be judged fairly and the idea hadn't caught on.
As they drew closer to the lagoon, Story suggested they leave the beach and cut
across a verdant hill. Though Kristy initially demurred, he insisted it would be a
shortcut.
"The lagoon has to be just on the other side of the hill," he said. "The beach
goes out and then curves around. Going over the hill will be quicker. Plus we
haven't been to the top, and there's gotta be an awesome view from up there in
this moonlight!"
Acknowledging he might be right, Kristy allowed herself to be persuaded. Donning
their footwear, they cut inland, meandering slowly up the gentle slope, palm
fronds softly sighing in the tropical breeze. Reaching the summit of the sJiml
hill, Story pointed.
"There, what did I tell you?" he said. Ahead of them lay the lagoon, its still
waters shimmering with the silver light of the moon. From their vantage point, a
large expanse of the island was exposed to their view. Seen by the light of the
moon, the landscape was surreal, as huge black shadows crisscrossed the land,
checkerboarding the island, while tall trees rustled in the wind, devoid of
color, seemingly alive in the stark illumination. They stood for a moment in
silence, drinking in the eerie vista. For a moment, it was easy to imagine that
they were the only souls in creation and that the starry night belonged to them
alone.
"Everyone gets lucky once in a while," Kristy finally responded, breaking the
reflective mood and jabbing him playfully with an elbow.
"I should certainly hope so," Story grinned. "The key question is, though, how
lucky?"
"Well, wait until we get to the lagoon and I'll show you!" Kristy laughed.
Heading back down the hill, towards the lagoon, disaster struck.
One moment they were walking side by side; the next, Kristy's hand was torn from
Story's grasp as the ground seemingly opened up beneath her and swallowed her
whole. A surprised scream cut the still night air for a split second before
ending abruptly.
"Kristy!" Story yelled frantically, as he gazed in stunned disbelief at the hole
which had opened in the hillside beside him. His voice reverberated in an
underground cavern as he shouted her name over and over, but only his echoes
answered back. Laying on his stomach, peering into the pitch blackness, Story
could see nothing; the moonlight was too dim to penetrate deeply into the
crevice, which jealously guarded its secrets. Finding a lengthy branch, Story
probed downwards, trying to determine how deep the hole was, but the stick was
swallowed up without reaching bottom. He feared to drop it, lest it strike Kristy,
lying below.
There were flashlights and rope back at the camp. It wasn't far--he could be back
in minutes with help. Hoping that she might be able to hear him, even if she
couldn't respond, Story Reader called down to Kristy, "I'm going for help! I'll be
right back with the others-- we'll get you out!"
Still receiving no reply, Story leapt to his feet and tore off towards the camp. *
* * * *
"That's odd," thought Kristy. "One minute I'm walking with Story Reader at night, and
now here it is daylight again." The sun was shining brightly, only a few wisps
of clouds breaking up the brilliant expanse of blue sky. Before her, close at
hand, the sparkling waters of the lagoon glinted in the golden light.
"What the fuck happened? I was walking with Story... I must have blacked out or
something...but something's strange." Her mind raced frantically. "The
lagoon--it looks different... I know! Those palm trees--they weren't there
yesterday!" Three large palm trees swayed in the breeze along the shore of the
lagoon, in a spot where Kristy would have sworn there were no trees. Hell, that
was the spot where, just a few days ago, Bronwen and Vicky Tern had made love one
lazy afternoon--to the delight of those swimming in the crystal water! Other
details about the scenery weren't correct either; for one, the waterfall wasn't
in exactly the right place. And the path the castaways had cut through the
underbrush winding upwards towards the stream was gone. Something was
wrong...seriously wrong.
Kristy turned her head to look out towards the ocean. At least she tried to, but
was shocked when nothing happened. Worried, she tried to bring a hand to her
face but it remained at her side. "My God! I'm paralyzed!" she thought in
horror. Her mind spun wildly for a moment before she realized that she was
standing. Her rational mind asserted itself. "If I'm paralyzed, how come I
haven't fallen down?"
There was a noise behind her; to her relief, she turned to face it. At least she
could move sometimes! However, if she had been startled at the changes in the
lagoon, the sight that met her eyes was enough to make her question her sanity.
Standing before her was a rakishly handsome young man, sporting an engaging grin.
Not that this would generally have been surprising, except that Kristy was pretty
sure she knew (by sight at least, if not more intimately!) all of the ship's
company on the island, and she was positive he was not one of them. Just as she
was positive that none of her fellows went around armed with a cutlass and
flintlock pistol!
Kristy opened her mouth in order to demand he tell her just who the fuck he was.
At least her mouth opened; however, what came out of it was somewhat different
than what she had intended. A voice--not her own, but very close to
it--exclaimed with delight, "Fredrick! You startled me! What took you so long?"
What the hell was happening?
"I'm sorry, Jaunita, my lass," replied the stranger. "The captain insisted I be in
his company; it took me longer than I thought it would to slip away." Jaunita? As
he spoke, Kristy's bewilderment was complete when she stepped forward into his
waiting arms and eagerly brought her lips to his. Fredrick enfolded Kristy--or Jaunita-
-in his arms as she clung to him, her soft lips pressed against his, slightly
parted, her tongue eagerly darting out to dance with his.
"This has _got_ to be some sort of dream," Kristy said to herself--though for a
dream, the guy was a damn good kisser. And her body wasn't obeying her--in a
dream, wasn't your body supposed to listen to you?
Breaking off the kiss, the buccaneer began to plant tender kisses on her upturned
face while murmuring soft words, words that she replied to in kind. Kristy's head
was spinning; she had no control over her body or her speech, and had no idea why
she was saying what she was saying, but she could feel-- vividly--the pirate's
lips upon her, his strong hands running up and down her back, stroking her
through her shirt. Though she was confused, Kristy's body responded to his
caresses; she could feel herself growing moist, could feel her nipples hardening,
eagerly anticipating the delights to come. Hey, Story wasn't the only one who
could have a sexy dream!
"We must hurry, my love," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear.
"Captain Douglas will be back soon, and I must return, to look as if I had
stayed with the hunt. He'd take none too kindly to discovering that his wench
and first mate were lovers!"
Wench? Kristy was pissed for a moment, before figuring what the hell, it _was_ a
pirate dream. Might as well go with it--she _could_ be a saucy wench!
"Please Fredrick, let's just take the treasure and go! Or leave the treasure and run
off, just the two of us!" Kristy heard herself say. Her gaze swept up the hill,
lit on the mouth of a cave. Resting before the entrance were two massive chests,
padlocked, each sporting a crude skull and crossbones design carved into the
wood.
"Ah, would that we could, lass," he replied, holding her close. "But you know
we'd never make it. There's not enough of the crew loyal to me on ship, to hie
the treasure back 'fore sailing away. We couldn't take the ship, and if we ran
on the island, the Captain would hunt us down. I promise you though that when we
reach New Providence, I'll ship with someone else and find a way to take you with
me. I swear to you, Jaunita, we'll be together!"
As he spoke, Fredrick knelt on the grass, pulling Jaunita down beside him. "For now,
let us enjoy the little time we've been able to steal."
Jaunita/Kristy lay on her back, cushioned by the wild grasses growing on the side of
the hill. The pirate lay next to her, his lips finding hers and drinking
passionately, while his hands roamed over her body. The few clouds floating in
the azure sky seemed to promise her that soon, she would be floating too.
One of his hands swiftly undid a few of the buttons of her shirt, sufficient for
him to slip a hand inside and cup her naked breast. She moaned against his
mouth, seeking to capture his tongue, as the rough fingers toyed with her rapidly
hardening nipple, teasing the pink morsel, causing the warmth to spread through
her loins. His other hand grasped the hem of her skirt, pulled it up to
mid-thigh, and slid beneath it, running up and down her calves and thighs. Each
time he slid his exploring hand up her body, he drew closer and closer to her
womanhood. Slowly the ache built inside her, to feel those fingers at the
junction of her thighs, frolicking in her slippery folds.
His mouth descended along her body, licking her neck, kissing the hollow of her
throat, sliding lower until he reached her breasts, now bared to the balmy sea
air, pink coral tips kissed by the sun. His lips captured a turgid pink tip,
sucking it slowly into his mouth. Jaunita gasped with the sensation, loving the
feel of his agile tongue sliding along her sensitive nipple.
"Oh yes," she breathed heavily, reveling in the sensation of his mouth on her
tits, feeling his hand sliding inches from her moist pussy. "Please touch me!"
Chuckling softly, the pirate closed the final few inches, entwining his fingers
in her soft fleece before moving his hand lower, brushing the length of her damp
slit. Tiny jolts of pleasure sparked through her vibrant body, the sea breeze
acting almost as another lover as it caressed her exposed flesh.
Wetting itself in her slickness, one finger circled around her steaming hole
before slowly pushing into the wet, warm sheath. Jaunita cried out, one hand
pulling his head harder against her firm tits as her body welcomed the clever
intruder. The finger slid in and out of her, caressing her satiny inner walls,
causing her love juices to flow ever more freely. She gasped as a second finger
squirmed its way inside her dripping cleft, filling her hot cunt.
With a sJiml cry of disappointment, Jaunita felt Fredrick's lips leave her heaving
mounds, but the cry quickly turned to one of anxious anticipation as he began to
lick his way down her straining body. Her own hands moved to her breasts,
tweaking the engorged nipples.
"Oh yes, my love!" she urged. "Lick me, please lick me!"
For reply, the rogue just smiled up at the young woman, but moved no faster in
his slow but inexorable journey down her body. His wet tongue flicking at her
bellybutton, Kristy couldn't believe how vivid her dream was. Her prior erotic
dreams had been nothing compared to this; the sensations coursing through her
were as real as if Fredrick was actually there with her, plunging his fingers in and
out of her wetness, sliding his lips along her. She could feel with exquisite
pleasure his fingers fucking her sun-drenched body, her love juices dripping down
her taut thighs, the agonizing anticipation of feeling his mouth feasting at her
lower lips. She had never cum from a dream before, but she could feel the
telltale signs of climax building in her slowly as he worshipped her.
"God, yes!" she cried, arching her hips off the ground, offering herself fully to
her lover, as his mouth completed its pilgrimage and found her sopping grotto.
Like a cat, he lapped at the cream of her desire, licking the honeyed juices from
her pink petals. The taste intoxicated him and he feasted like one possessed,
bringing his mouth down hard against her soft flesh, sucking the erect nub of her
clit into his mouth, laving it with his clever tongue.
Feeling his probing tongue on her womanhood, Jaunita felt like she was going to
burst with pleasure. She soared higher, ever higher, reveling in the delicious
sensations of his mouth on her, his fingers twisting and turning.
Suddenly she crested.
With an inarticulate cry, her body convulsed, thighs closing reflexively around
his head, grinding him closer against her spasming cunt as she shuddered like a
sapling in a strong wind. Her body rippled as her climax tore through her,
beginning at her core and spreading like wildfire throughout, overloading her
senses as she thrashed mindlessly, focused only on the intense delight. Fredrick
drove his fingers mercilessly into the young woman's quivering body again and
again, delighting in the cries of pleasure his mouth was wringing from her lips.
Temporarily sated, her thighs loosened their grip and her upraised buttocks
slumped back to the ground. Lifting his head from her honey pot, the pirate
smiled up at her, his face smeared with her juices. She lay back lazily, eagerly
watching as he unbuckled his pants, dropped them to reveal his jutting cock.
"I want you, Jaunita, my love," he murmured as he knelt betwixt her open thighs.
Gasping her assent, she reached down and grasped his hard shaft, positioning it
between her lower lips. "Aaagghh!" she cried in delight, as he thrust into her
slickness. She could feel her vaginal walls expanding to accommodate the welcome
invader, feel the head push its way in, feel every vein and knob and bump as he
speared her, thrusting himself deeply into her. His pubic hair mashed against
hers, intermingled with her thatch, scratching her clitoris like tiny little
rough fingers as he lay on her for a moment, buried inside her, letting her body
adjust itself to his size.
She urged him on, beating on his buttocks with her heels to spur him. "Fuck me,
fuck me!" she shouted to the wind, screaming her ecstasy to the sky. Above her,
the buccaneer began to drive himself in and out of her soaked snatch. She pulled
him to her, delighting in feeling his hardened shaft slide almost all the way out
of her body, massaging her fevered interior walls, delirious with pleasure when
he rammed himself back in again, his pubes stimulating her swollen clit until she
was near delirium.
Her initial orgasm had served only to whet her sexual appetite. Countless tiny
tremors wracked her as he plundered her willing body. Together they soared on
the wings of passion. Her hot inner walls clutched him in a steaming, silky
embrace, caressing his hard cock with their velvety softness. He could feel his
balls tightening, his spunk desperate for release, as he impaled the writhing
young woman beneath him again and again, slamming her ass hard against the ground
with each savage downstroke.
With a hoarse shout, Fredrick came, his hot cum jetting out, coating her sopping
cunt. Feeling his seed spurting into her, Jaunita ground herself against him,
burying his length full inside her, striking her clit against him, sending her
over the edge. Her feet beat a staccato pattern on his buttocks as she climaxed,
her cries of primordial pleasure startling a flock of seabirds into frenzied
flight.
The two lovers flew with them.
Finally, exhausted, Fredrick slumped down, lying on top of his lady love. Kissing
her gently, he said, "That was fantastic, Jaunita, but I must needs be getting back.
It wouldn't do for the Captain to miss me."
She murmured her reluctant agreement. They exchanged one last deep kiss--and
were suddenly shocked when a maddened voice shouted near them, "Ya scurvy dog!
Betray me, will you!"
Fredrick rolled off her, sprang to his feet. Facing him, not a dozen feet away, was
Captain Douglas, rage contorting his face, his pistol out and pointed at Fredrick's
chest. Fredrick knew the temper of his Captain, knew that he was a dead man if he
didn't kill the Captain first. His own weapons lay on the ground a few short
feet away. With a wild cry--"Jaunita, I love you!"- -he leapt for his pistol, dove,
grabbed it and rolled into kneeling position, swinging the flintlock towards
Douglas.
Though Fredrick was swift as a hunting cat, Douglas had the drop on him. As the
first mate raised his pistol, the Captain's weapon belched flame, the bullet
taking Fredrick between the eyes and hurling him backwards to the ground, staring
sightlessly up at the sky.
With a scream of priJim anguish, Jaunita threw herself on the body of her lover,
sobbing uncontrollably, stroking his hair, calling his name over and over. She
scarce realized that Douglas had moved closer to her, his cutlass in his hands.
She sensed, rather than heard, him say, "And now for you too, you traitorous
wench!" Without thinking, she plucked Fredrick's pistol from his still-warm hand,
turned slightly to see the Captain towering above her, his blade descending in a
vicious arc towards her head. Screaming, she pointed and pulled the trigger...
Screaming, Kristy awakened. A babble of confused voices greeted her, people
asking if she was all right. Disoriented, she stared wildly around her.
She was in a cave. About her, their faces expressing concern in the glow of the
flashlights, were several of the castaways, including Story Reader. Everyone seemed
to be asking her all at the same time if she was okay, inquiring if she was hurt.
"I'm OK--I think," she replied and slowly got to her feet, assisted by some of
the others. Though her body ached from numerous bruises, she appeared to have
suffered no serious injury from her fall.
"Thank God you're all right!" exclaimed Story, expressing the sentiments of
everyone there.
Just a few moments before, Story had rushed into camp, gasping that Kristy was in
trouble. The castaways had speedily set forth. With The Panda, Cyanide and a few
others anchoring the rope, Story and several others had climbed down into the
hole, which dropped straight down for a dozen feet or so, before gradually
sloping, ending in an underground cavern. They had found Kristy there,
unconscious, but before they could begin to carefully examine her, she had
started screaming before suddenly awakening.
Standing somewhat unsteadily, Kristy stared at Story for a moment. "That's the
last time I yell at you about your dreams," she said. Confused, Story stared
blankly back at her. "Never mind," she said. "I'll explain it all to you back
at the camp."
Securing herself to the line, Kristy was hauled up out of the cave by The Bear and
crew, the others following on her heels. Finally, only Jim-Terring and DG were left
in the cave.
"You go up," Jim said. "I'm going to do a little spelunking."
"I'm not going to let you have all the fun!" DG declared. "I'm with you."
Calling up to the others to tie the rope to something, the two intrepid explorers
moved deeper into the cave...
* * * * *
"And the rest, you know," Kristy concluded, finishing her story. "That's when I
woke up screaming, to find all of you around me. Thanks again!"
Kristy and the others had arrived back at the camp a short time before. Though
she had made reference during the trip to "a heck of a story" to tell them, the
writers had waited patiently while she ate a little food and downed some orange
juice (liberally spiced with rum). It was only after Jim-Terring and DG returned--
answering the questions of, "did you find anything," with "we'll tell you about
it in a moment,"--that Kristy had launched into her tale, telling of her dream, of
how she had seemingly been trapped helplessly in someone else's body but enjoying
the experience immensely, until its sudden and horrifying conclusion.
"What a terrible ending!" exclaimed April, echoing the thoughts of everyone there.
She leaned over and kissed Kristy gently.
The group immediately launched into a frenzied discussion of Kristy's dream; Jim
and DG conspicuously absent from it. After the debate had proceeded for a few
minutes, Jim-Terring and DG looked across the fire at each other. Nodding, they got
up and disappeared into the night for a moment, returning almost immediately,
staggering under the weight of a huge chest. Dropping it on the ground in front
of their amazed fellows, they disappeared once more, returning with its twin.
"DG and I found these in the back of the cave," Jim announced by way of
expGination, perhaps unnecessarily. "From the looks of it, a group of pirates
placed these chests in the cave before sealing it up."
The two massive chests were emblazoned, each with a skull and crossbones carved
into them. Seeing them, Kristy stiffened. "They look exactly like the ones in my
dream," she whispered, half to herself.
At a request from Jim, The Bear grabbed a large rock, pounding it against the
rusty padlocks securing the contents of the chests. A few choice blows struck
the locks open. Eager hands raised the lids. Gold doubloons and glittering
necklaces, bejewelled gobbets and gem-encrusted trinkets poured out in profusion.
"We're rich!" cried several of the writers in unison, before Sven the Elder
pointed out that, seeing as this was Jim -Terring's island, the treasure probably
belonged to him, or to its finders, Jim and DG. The dampening of enthusiasm this
observation brought lasted scant seconds, however, as Jim announced, "Libertines!
Are we not united in our common love for erotic adventure? Are we not united in
our current plight? Whatever this island has to offer is ours together,
share-and-share alike!"
As the crowd called for three cheers, Jim-Terring modestly waved a hand and stepped
away from the campfire. A moment later, DG followed him, unnoticed by the
others, who had begun to gleefully throw gold doubloons at each other. DG found
Jim waiting for him some distance away from the fire, sitting on a stump, idly
stripping tiny pieces of bark from a branch and tossing them into the air,
watching as they were carried away by the wind.
DG leaned against a tree a few feet away, started aimlessly sketching abstract
patterns in the sandy soil with his toes. For a few moments, they waited there
in silence, the muted cries of their fellows reaching them through the clear
night air. When DG finally spoke, his sudden voice seemed loud, though he spoke
in a low hush. "So, what do you make of Kristy's story?"
"I'm not sure," Jim replied after a moment. "But I _am_ sure, doubly sure, now,
that we did the right thing by not telling the others."
"Aye," DG agreed, before lapsing once more into silence. A short time later,
exchanging one last glance, they parted, each going their own way into the night,
each alone with his thoughts.
And from that day forward, they never spoke of it again; never told a living soul
of what they had found next to the chests--two human skeletons, one with a bullet
hole in the skull, the other with the skull split open, as if by a sword.
Copyright ?1998 by SIC