I had never been on a ship before. It had just never come up. I had never considered them dangerous. Shipwrecks were something of the past. For ships made out of wood or before radar was invented. Now planes. Those were the crashes of the modern age. Or cars. Trains still derailed, I guess. Anything but ships sinking.
But mine did.
‘Mum!’
A hand shook my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open, stinging with salt water and staring into the bright sun. My stomach convulsed as salty water escaped my lips and I rolled onto my side. The hand still remained on my shoulder and a head blocked the bright sun.
‘Mum, are you okay?’
It had been a small cruise ship. Nothing grand like some of those you see in advertisements. Single mothers didn’t have many savings to spend on a holiday. Though if I had known that this would happen, I would have put more away.
‘Wha-‘ My voice was hoarse, but it seemed enough for my son. He rested his head against my shoulder as if to hug my prone figure.
As he pulled away I sat up, my head spinning. We were on a white beach. To each side, nothing but sand. Inland was a thick jungle with a rocky peak in the centre just a few metres above tree line. Where were we?
‘Thank god you’re alive!’ Kyle exclaimed. ‘I dragged you to shore but… but you wouldn’t wake.’
I weakly patted his arm.
‘Where are we?’
He stood up and looked around.
‘I don’t know…’
‘Did anyone else make it?’
I looked out to sea, but was met with an empty horizon.
‘I haven’t seen anyone else. I swam a long way to get here.’
I sat still and silent. I was lucky to be alive. Though, would anyone find us here?
‘We should see what’s here, I guess…’ He offered me a hand. ‘Are you all right to stand?’
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine,’ I said, still finding my breath. I took his hand and got to my feet. The sand was warm between my toes. I had been wearing sandals on the boat. They must have washed away when I went under. Kyle was barefoot too. Same situation, I suppose. Or he may have ditched them to swim better. He didn’t have a shirt either, perhaps that too had been washed away.
We both slowly walked across the sand until our feet met dirt and sticks and rocks. I winced every time my foot came down on something sharp, but it didn’t seem to bother Kyle. I could hear birds with exotic cries overhead. Hiding in the canopy. If they could survive here then hopefully we could too.
In the shade, my clothes felt much damper. My long, wet hair holding the water against my shirt. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from shivering, savouring the rays of sun that pierced through the canopy.
Before long we found a steep rock face in the side of a hill, and as we followed it around we found an opening.
‘Just be careful,’ I warned as Kyle stepped inside. The opening was fairly wide, like the mouth of the rock face gaping before us. Inside it carved out a perfect little hovel.
Kyle inspected every corner before returning.
‘Looks like a good place to spend the night.’
‘Really?’ I grimaced at the thought, but I knew he was right. ‘What about, you know, search planes or passing ships?’
‘We can set something up on the beach for that. We need somewhere safe to sleep tonight. Out of the elements in case it rains.’
I gave a small chuckle. ‘I should be the responsible adult here.’
Kyle was thinking clearly; planning ahead. I should be the one doing that, not relying on my son to look after me.
‘Okay,’ I said, unwrapping my arms. ‘We should look for food and water, too.’
‘You’re onto it, mum. I didn’t take you for the wilderness survival type.’
Despite the worry that gripped me, I couldn’t help but smile at him.
‘How do you know? I was quite adventurous before you were born.’
~
We did set up a sign on the beach. ‘Help’ spelled out with rocks. Though, with each passing day, it seemed less and less likely that someone would come. Soon, a month had passed and we were still here.
We made do, though. All throughout the island were bushes and trees bearing various fruits and nuts. That must have been what the birds survived on. There didn’t appear to be any other animal on the island, though. Our first few nights were spent with one eye open, but we soon grew confident. Kyle even began trying his hand at spear fishing. He hadn’t had any success yet, but he swore he was getting close.
Near the rocky peak in the centre of the island we found a spring. Its waters spilling down a creek until it reached the sea. With that we had everything we needed to survive as long as it took to be rescued.
My routine changed to suit my new life. Collecting fruits and nuts in hollowed out coconuts to bring back to our cave. Doing the same with water from the spring. The tracks through the jungle soon became familiar to me. All the while my feet became tougher with each trek. Developing callouses to protect them from the rocks. I was becoming a real wild woman.
Though, there was one part of my old self that refused to change.
I walked back to the cave and placed the fruit that I had collected on the rock that had become our makeshift table. Kyle was nowhere to be seen. He must have been fishing again.
Good.
I snuck out of the cave and disappeared into the jungle, diverting from my usual tracks. With little to do or entertain my mind, I often found myself daydreaming. Especially the times when I gathered the fruits and nuts alone. I had always been a sexual person. Maybe I just had a higher libido than most people, but I had always enjoyed frequent uses of my vibrator. Late at night, when Kyle had gone to bed, I would lock my door and pull it out. Writhing in the sheets as the pulses coursed through me.
Was it sad that I missed my vibrator more than I missed my sheets?
And so, after a month on this island, with little relief, it was hard to keep my daydreams tame.
I found a place surrounded by bushes and squatted down behind them. After a quick survey to ensure I wouldn’t be seen, I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them, and my panties, down.
My pussy was flushed and practically dripping. It was cruel to deny myself so much. I wasted no time in plunging my fingers inside me. A slight moan escaped me. My clit was begging to be touched. I sat back on the ground, feeling small rocks poke into my butt, and started to rub my clit with my other hand.
My pubic hair pricked at my fingers. I had always kept myself shaved down there, the smooth sensation a wonderful thing. But I had no razor here. So my nether region was covered in prickly little hairs, that, to be honest, only made it harder to ignore my desire with such a long forgotten sensation against my panties.
I worked my fingers in and out. Letting my soft inner walls squeeze around them. No, not my fingers, the cock of my lover. A strong rescue party member who had found our island, finding me first. His rippling muscles visible through his shirt. We wouldn’t have to say anything. He would take my slender waist in his arms and our bodies would collapse to the jungle floor. My coconut bowl of fruit spilling out beside me as he rips my pants off. Before I could even dare to wriggle away he would be in me, thrusting powerfully, pushing me into the dirt with his rhythm. His mouth sucking at my breasts.
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