The subtle sound of waves crashing on the shore. Golden sunlight, slotted blurrily through my eyelashes. The feeling of Kyle's tight, lanky body against my back. My eyes flutter open. I look up at him and see that he's already looking down at me with a gentle smile, joy sparkling in his teal eyes.

I smile back and say, “Goodmorning.”

“Mornin’, dude.” He plants a little kiss on my forehead and says, “Get up. Time to get to work.”

“Work?” I ask as Kyle stands up and puts on his boxers.

“Yup.” He looks away from me, in the direction of the house. “Eyy, Tyler's up n movin’!”

I follow Kyle's gaze over to Tyler, and my jaw drops at, yet again, the astounding beauty of this new dude:

About the same height and age as Cody and I, but paper-white. A long, thin, graceful body with shredded little eight-pack abs and pronounced hip bones, each hip bearing a black star-shaped tattoo. He also has a tattoo of a skull on his left pec and one of a rose on his right hand. He has swooping black emo hair that perfectly frames his piercing silver-blue eyes. A short, narrow nose. A thin face with a strong jaw and a cleft in his skinny yet strong chin. He has plenty of piercings, too: a silver septum, lime green 1.5-inch plugs in his ears, black snakebites on his plump lower lip, silver hoops hanging from both pale nipples, and a silver hoop in his tight little belly button. And to top it all off, all this dude is wearing is a stringy little black loincloth with a noticeable bulge underneath.

I see that he wears a big rope net-style bag over his shoulder, and in his hand is a loincloth just like his own, but white, as well as another net bag. He throws both to me as he walks over. I don't know what's going on, but I put on the loincloth and put the bag over my shoulder. Tyler extends a bony, well-veined hand to me–the one with the rose tattoo-and says, “Sup dude? Tyler.”

“Jesse,” I say back as I shake his hand.

“Alright,” says Kyle, “let's get to work. Jesse, something we do every morning is collect fruit and bring it back to the house. This morning it's your and Tyler's turn. Okay? Tyler, you can walk him through it.” Kyle rolls up his yoga mat and starts walking back toward the house.

“What are you gonna do?” I ask.

Kyle chuckles, looks back and says, “Whatever the fuck I want.”

“Hmm,” I hum in slight disappointment as Kyle enters the house, because I want to spend more time with him. And Tyler's intense aesthetic–though admittedly sexy–makes me a little nervous.

“Come on, dude,” says Tyler, “let's get some bananas first.”

“Okay,” I say, a little sheepish. I figure I'd start a conversation as I follow Tyler over to a group of banana trees near the house, so I say: “So, uh, what's with the loincloths?”

“It's tradition, dude. I dunno how it started, but we always wear ‘em when we pick fruit. Anyways…” We stop at a tree that's thick and has a slight curve to it. At the top, among the leaves, are bunches of bananas. “I'm gonna need ya to scurry up that tree ‘n’ pick three bunches, alright? I'll get four from this tree over here.”

“Okay.”

As we each climb one of the trees, Tyler continues the conversation. “So, ya just came outta the ocean, huh? That’s what Kyle told me, anyway.”

“Yeah, everything before that is a little fuzzy. I think…maybe I came from somewhere else, with a different name and a different life. I don’t know. It’s hard to remember.”

“Hmm,” hums Tyler. “Interesting.”

Once we’ve each picked our share of bananas, we climb down our respective trees. “Kyle said the same thing. He said it was interesting, but… I don’t know what it means.”

Tyler shrugs and says, “I don’t know either, dude, I just live here. Anyway, next is coconuts. You get four, and I’ll get three.”

We walk over to a grouping of coconut trees and each climb one. “You think Kyle might know anything?” I ask as we climb and start to pick. “I mean, he seems to be like the head dude around here.”

“Welp, ya got that right. He’s pretty much in charge. It was supposed to be him and Ryan, but, well… I think ya know how Ryan turned out, so it all falls on Kyle. Dude does a good job takin’ care of us, though. I hope I can be half the dude he is one day.”

“I dunno,” I say, “I think you’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks, dude. Next is mangos.”

While we move on to picking from the mango trees, I ask, “So how many dudes are on this island anyway?”

“Seven. There’s Kyle, Ryan, me, Jake, David, Cody, and now you, dude.”

“Hm… Lucky number seven, I guess.”

“I guess.” We finish picking mangoes and climb down the trees. The sun is slightly higher in the sky now, indicating mid-morning. Tyler says, “Welp, that’s all the fruits, dude.” As we start walking back toward the house, he continues, “Now we get to do whatever we want for the rest of the day.”

“Cool. Um… What does everyone here usually do? Other than having sex, of course. That one seems obvious.”

“Hm… Ya could see what David’s doing. Dude’s prolly making coffee right now. He has coffee every morning with Jake.”

“Cool. I'm down for that. I like coffee. I'd like to meet David and Jake too, anyway.”

Tyler and I reach the faded, gray wooden porch in front of the house, leading up to the turquoise door that matches the shutters. We walk up the porch and into the house.

The living room is pastel yellow and spacious, with a hardwood floor and rustic wooden furniture with turquoise cushions. There is a ficus in the corner and a tv across from a teal couch with palm tree designs on it. Between the couch and TV is a coffee table with a glass top and wooden frame. There's a bong on it, a baggie of weed and a red grinder, as well as a Game blunt wrapper and some scattered tobacco. Connected to the living room is a kitchen, painted the same color as the living room, with a black and white checkered tile floor, an island counter, and an abundance of counter space and appliances to the right. I see David–the swimmer dude– and Jake–the big pale dude–sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and chatting.

“Follow me, dude,” says Tyler. I follow him through the kitchen–the smell of coffee wafting through the air--and to a closet with shelves, each stocked with a different fruit. We proceed to put the fruits away on their respective shelves, and then Tyler stuffs his net-bag into the bottom shelf with the coconuts, so I do the same with mine. “Wanna meet Jake and David?” Tyler asks.

“Sure, dude,” I say with a shrug.

Tyler walks me over to the kitchen table, where I finally get a good look at the dudes. “Jesse,” says Tyler, “this is Jake and David.”

Jake isn't as pale as I thought he was. I guess you could say he has an average skin tone. His facial features are kind of average too, his nose kind of derpy with its roundness on the end. His dark brown eyes have a dull look in them. His eyebrows are thick and as dark-brown as his short, messy hair. His physique is muscular with big pecs, big arms and big hands, but he's ever so slightly chubby. All of this can be seen clearly, as he's shirtless, but wearing is a pair of olive green cargo shorts with red and black plaid boxers underneath, red vans with no socks, a skinny silver chain necklace shimmering from within his curly black chest hair, and a black ring on his right hand's meaty middle finger. Overall, dude looks kinda shlubby, but cute.

Meanwhile, David looks much more refined, with all the beauty of an ancient Greek statue. He has a deep, golden brown tan, the smoothly muscled build of a swimmer, short wavy chocolate-brown hair with 90s-style curtains in the front and little hints of golden blond here and there. His eyes are a bright hazel color and innocent. His smooth, clean hands are just as big as Jake's but with fatter fingertips, and his feet are smooth, tan, clean and strong as well. And all this dude is wearing is a vibrant medium blue speedo and matching skinny rubber flip-flops, both of which contrast beautifully against his lush tan skin.

We exchange introductions and handshakes–both dudes’ hands are as firm as can be–and then David asks me, “You want some coffee, my guy?” His voice is smooth and soothing.

“Sure,” I say with a shrug.

“Gotchu.” As David gets up and starts making me coffee–revealing a plump ass when he turns around–Tyler says, “Welp, I'm gonna go see what Cody and Kyle are doing. Later dudes.” We bid farewell, and he gives a subtle wave and leaves the kitchen through a sliding door which leads to the back yard.

That instantly gives me flashbacks of Ryan exiting the house and returning through that sliding door last night, before and after I sucked his dick. And that makes me ask David, who's leaning in a cool way against the counter as the coffee brews, “Where's Ryan?”

“I dunno,” says David. “Probably in the gym. That's where he spends most of his time, and it shows.”

“Yeah, it does,” I say with a smirk as I remember how shredded Ryan is.

“Yup,” says Jake with a deep, dull, masculine voice, “dude's prolly in there, jackin’ off to ‘imself.”

David chuckles, but then rebuts with, “Come on, it was only two times that Kyle caught him doing that.”

“I caught ‘im doin’ it one time too,” says Jake.

David giggles and says, “No you didn't.”

“Dude, I swear to God!”

David brings me my coffee, and he and I burst into laughter. And while I stand there, sipping coffee and listening to these two manly dudes arguing, I realize: we all have those intoxicating hypermasculine straight-dude vibes, and yet we’re all gay. It really is a dream come true.

“Anyways,” says David, “you guys wanna go to the lake today?”

“Sure dude,” says Jake, and he takes a sip of coffee. “I fuckin’ love the lake. Shit's beautiful.” Despite the passion of his words, Jake's voice remains deep, flat and lowkey. I can tell that, beneath his nonchalant exterior, there burns a fiery soul. And I think, Oh Jake…

“How ‘bout you, Jesse?” asks David.

“Yeah, I'm down for that. Can I swim there with you? Or dive? Or whatever you wanna do.”

“Yeah, man.” David sets down his now-empty coffee mug and motions for me to follow him. “Come on, let's get ya dressed in the proper attire.”

“Cool,” I say with a smile and set down my mug as well. I’m only halfway done my coffee, but I feel like I’ve had enough to get me going. I follow David down the grayish-blue hallway and upstairs. On the wall beside the staircase are a bunch of framed photos of the dudes with different outfits, poses and locations. “I like these pictures,” I say as we go up the stairs. We reach another hallway at the top with four doors–two on either side.

“Thanks dude,” says David as he leads me into his bedroom. “I took them myself.” The room is light tan and big enough for two beds, both of which have blue-and-beige spreads. As we cross the room to David's dresser, my eye is caught by a corkboard above his bed with a bunch of polaroids tacked into it. I scan them with my eyes, and I notice the dudes are either smiling, goofing around or making jokingly serious faces in all the pictures. This brings a gentle smile to my face. “Oh, you like the polaroids?” says David, who I've just realized is right behind me, sitting on the bed. I give a simple nod for a response, and David says, “Cool, we'll have to get some of you sometime.” I look down at a baby-blue speedo and matching flip-flops in David's hands. He glances down and says, “Oh, these are for you, bro. Just for today though. Wanna try ‘em on?”

“Yeah,” I say. I strip off my white loin cloth and drop it on the floor.

“Nice dick, bro,” says David with a stupid little chuckle. He gives my dick a gentle slap.

I chuckle back and say, “Thanks.” David hands me the speedo and flip flops. I put them on, and they fit perfectly. The baby blue color also contrasts my vibrant tan with a striking beauty.

“Eyy! My clothes fit you like a glove. Might have to do a fashion photoshoot sometime.”

“Nice! That'd be dope.”

David stands up, puts his hands on his hips and says, “Welp, looks like you’re ready for the lake. Oh, but two more things.” David goes to his dresser again, opens a drawer and rummages around. “Ah, here they are.” He brings out swimmers goggles and a swim cap that match my speedo and flip flops and hands them to me. “Alright. Now you're ready.”

“Nice! Thanks, dude.”

“No prob, li'l bro.”

David returns to the dresser and grabs a medium blue swim cap and goggles for himself. We go back downstairs and find that Jake is in the kitchen, only now in addition to his cargo shorts and vans, he's got on a camouflage backpack, a faded red backwards hat, and those sleek little oval sunglasses that were popular in the early 2000's. He also has a red beach chair strapped to the back of his backpack.

“Eyy! Jake's lookin’ good too!” I say.

“Thanks, dude. You guys done suckin’ each other's dicks yet?”

David laughs and says, “We're saving that for later.”

I smirk at that, and Jake says, “Let's head out.”

“Yup,” says David.

We walk through the sliding door and onto the deck, where there are six bikes leaned up against each other, the whole pile leaning against the wall. There are six bikes: yellow, purple, dark blue, medium blue, black, and red. Jake takes the red one, David takes medium blue, Jake takes red, and then David scratches his chin in thought. “Hmm,” he hums. “I guess you could take Cody's. He won't mind. It's the yellow one.”

“You sure he won't mind?” I ask, a little nervous.

“Dude, just fuckin’ take it,” says Jake. “Don't be such a fuckin' pussy.”

“Jake's right,” says David. “We gotta toughen you up. Plus, Cody and Kyle are probably surfing right now, and they walk when they do that.”

“Hm, okay” I say. And I take the bike.

We take our bikes down the steps and into the backyard, where we get on them and start to ride. “Just follow us, dude,” says Jake.

“Okay.”

As we ride our bikes down the jungle trail on yet another clear, warm, sunny day, I can see the sun is slightly higher in the sky. It's late morning now. I take a deep breath and smile, admiring the warm, subtle breeze. The way the light shimmers on the jungle leaves. The songs of tropical birds lilting through the air. And I’m reminded again and again: This truly is Paradise.

After riding down the trail for about ten minutes, we come upon a clearing in the jungle. The dirt transitions into sand, and I can hear a heavy sound of running water. David and Jake get off their bikes and start walking alongside them, pushing them, so I do too. I follow them into the sandy clearing, and although they keep walking, I stop and marvel at the lake.

A waterfall cascading down a thirty-foot-tall, fifty-foot-wide rock wall, pouring endlessly from a river above into the sprawling lake before us. The water is about twenty feet deep at the center and crystal-clear. So clear in fact that I can see straight down to the sand at the bottom, which glistens in the watery sunlight, as well as a few scattered silver-blue fish. On the far side of the lake, where the shore curves uphill into the jungle, there is a rope swing hanging from a tall, thick tree. The perfect lake.

I continue to take it all in as I keep walking, pushing my bike onto the sand and rolling it over to Jake and David. They've already set their bikes down on the shore. Jake has set up his beach chair. While David puts on his goggles and swimcap, Jake unzips his backpack and pulls out a twelve-pack box of Budweiser beer.

David starts stretching, so I join him by his side. I put on my goggles and swim cap. We stretch our thighs, arms and shoulders, and we're ready. “Alright li'l bro,” says David with his hands on his hips, “let's warm up with some laps.”

“Nice. Jake, you gonna join us?”

“Nah,” says Jake, and CHK!--he cracks open a can of beer and takes a big gulp. He spills some on his chin, wipes it off and lets a big belch rip.

“Tuh-huh” I chuckle. “Nice.”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” says David. “Let's get to work. Jesse, I'm gonna race ya to the waterfall and back three times.”

“Okay.”

We walk to the edge of the lake water. “Ready,” says David. We raise our arms high above our heads. “Set…” We bend our knees slightly. “GO!”

David and I dive into the warm water and swim under. We both swim with decent form, but David's much faster than me. He reaches the area beneath the waterfall before I even make it halfway there. He emerges on the surface for air, gets splashed like crazy by the waterfall, and dives back under. I do the same, but about thirty seconds after him. Once I've dived back down and started swimming, he's already reached the other side and turned around for his second lap. This goes on for a while. In the time it takes me to swim two laps, he's already finished all three. I get exponentially more disappointed in myself the whole time. But once I've finished my third lap, I'm too tired to care. I flop down onto my back on the shore next to Jake, breathing heavy. My legs splayed out.

David walks over to stand over me, blocking out the sun. “That was a good try, dude!” he says with a thumbs-up. I respond with a weary thumbs-up of my own, and my arm instantly plops back down onto the sand. “Jake, what's his punishment?”

Jake, who's still drinking beer, lets another big belch rip, and then walks around and stands over me, blocking out even more light. He lights up a cigarette, takes a drag and says, “Looks like we gotta fuck you, dude.”

I smirk and say, “That’s not much of a punishment.”

“Yeah it is, dude,” says Jake, who then crouches down and flips me over. “‘Cause we’re not gonna let you cum.”

“Aww man,” I say, disappointed. But to be honest, I’m still a little excited.

Jake yanks my speedo down off my ass and spanks me. I whimper a little at the sting of his big, meaty man-paw on my tight little ass. “Yeah, cry like a little bitch,” says Jake. I then hear the unzipping of pants and feel something big, fat and somewhat hard gently tapping my ass. I figure that must be Jake’s dick. I look around and see that, indeed, it is. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he’s got the fattest dick on the island. About two and a half inches long. Decent length, too, at six inches, semi-hard.

“Oh, Jake,” I say.

“Yeah, bitch, you want my hog, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice going up an octave.

Jake chuckles, and I watch as David walks around in front of me. “Get up on your arms, bro,” says David, “like you’re doin’ pushups.” He gets down on his knees in front of me.

I do what David says, but Jake slaps my ass again. Another whimper from me. And he says, “Stay on your fuckin’ knees though, bitch.”

“Okay,” I say, and I get on all fours, ready to be used from both sides. Right in front of me, David takes his dick out of his speedo. It’s about the size and shape of Jake’s, but it’s tan, and rock-solid. “Oh, David,” I say to this gorgeous sight, and I look up into his twinkling hazel eyes. We smile at each other, and with my tongue I start to caress his dick.

Meanwhile, I hear Jake jacking off behind me to get himself hard. Occasionally he taps his dick on my ass. I can feel the size of it growing to an almost absurd length and thickness. And when Jake's ready, he spits in my asshole and fingers me a little, sending a shiver up my spine. “Oh Jake…”

As Jake fingers me, I keep working on David's beautiful tanned dick, getting it nice and lubed up with my tongue so I can suck it well for him. And then I feel it. THUNK! My mouth and eyes go wide, and I whimper again, almost losing my breath. Jake is inside me, and my voice goes even higher. “Jake… Oh Jake.”

“Yeah dude,” says Jake as he starts to fuck me. “That's a good li'l bitch saying my name. You better recognize. Whaddya think, David?”

“I don't think he can say your name with my dick in his mouth,” says David.

“Oh David,” I say, and I spit on his dick and start sucking.

Jake puts his hands on my waist and squeezes tightly. He pulls me in, onto his dick over and over again while he fucks me. I feel each impact, which sends an intense shockwave of ecstasy throughout my whole body, over and over, again and again. At the same time, I’m sucking David’s dick. David tousles my hair a little and takes the back of my head in his hand, gently sliding my head on and off of his dick. He’s not giving a hardcore face-fuck, like Ryan did. It’s more gentle. Smooth. Soothing. Meanwhile Jake, being the extreme dude that he is, is just going to town on my ass, giving the occasional slap with his powerful hands. I look up into David’s bright, wholesome hazel eyes and think, Oh David. And at the same time, while Jake fucks me from behind, I think, Oh Jake. And as I’m caught in the middle of these two very different dudes who are connecting through their mutual power over me, I learn my place on Dude Island: I’m the bitch-dude who gets fucked.