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.


"Yes!" His body shook.


"Yes!!" It seemed like there was a small earthquake hitting the island.


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


"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


"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


"That's mighty big of you," she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him as they


"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


"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


"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


"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


"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


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


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

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