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Shipwrecked - Part 1

A yachting race comes to a sticky end... ?
This story has a fairly long lead in before you get to the action, so be patient, and I hope you think it is worth it. Part 2 will be up shortly as well, which will raise the temperature a lot of degrees more.

We’d been away from home now for nearly 3 weeks, and were getting close to our goal. Our boat had conquered 30 foot waves, and horrendous hurricane force winds, and the 6 person crew (four men and two women) had become a slick team, any rough edges having been long since knocked off.

This race was the third that I had been in, but the first in which there was a mixed sex crew. That gave rise to a few problems, but any macho misgivings had been well and truly dispelled by the sheer ability and professionalism of Angela and Terry. The weeks at sea had turned us all into bronzed, lean athletes, and while friendships had been formed and deepened through our shared experiences, the level of our task left no room for any hint of sex to confuse us.

I had left a wife at home, reconciled to me being away for months on end, not only because of ocean racing, but also because my day job was to take new boats from my boat-builder employer and deliver them to whatever harbour their new owners desired. That’s what I had thought, but sadly for me though, just a few months before we had set off, Sarah had left me for a local bank manager, which had cut me up badly. I had difficulty coming to terms with this, but during the race I had realised that she must just have wanted someone there a lot more of the time than I was, and wasn’t prepared to wait, or ask me to change my type of work. At our last port of call, I had made the call back home to tell her that I wasn’t going to stand in her way, and that she should make sure that he really was the right man, and wished her well for the future.

There was no time for much self doubt or reflection on this leg of the race, though, it had been all tough, hard work, followed by deep sleep, repeating the cycle over and over as we worked the two long shifts.

We were now deep into the South China sea, and heading for safe harbour in Singapore, where we would rest over for a week before the next leg started. The weather reports were worrying, as for days now the pressure had been slowly dropping and the wind gradually increasing.

Just north of the Tambelan islands, off the coast of Indonesia, the storm hit. The skies turned the colour of lead, the sea quickly turned into a maelstrom of high waves, the wind cutting them off and creating dangerous surges. We had seen such conditions before, so no-one was overly worried until we heard on the sat-phone that there was worse to come. There was nothing for it than to try to find some cover, and lie up in the lee of an island, letting the island take the brunt of the storm, while we tried to find shelter on the other side.

I had the wheel, and John and Angela were working the sails, taking instructions as we ran for cover. We were all drenched to the skin, or at last those few clothes that we wore. In this area of the world, temperatures were almost constantly high, so both rain and sea were warm, which at least was something, though the seas now were the worst I had ever encountered. The sat-nav showed me where to head for, and with the depth sounder pinging away, the radar scanning for any hidden obstacles in our way, and we ran for the coast.

Ben, Mark and Terry were up on deck as well, as there was no way they were going to sleep, and tied on securely they waited in case one of us needed help or relief. John was dealing with the foresail, and Angela the mainsail, working the winches to lessen or increase the sail area to suit our progress. The noise was deafening, from thunderclaps and the crashing of waves, all shot through by the screeching of the wind, which our instruments told us was now above 60 mph.

We had evolved a system of hand signals and as we changed course towards one of the smaller islands, I ordered a reduction in sail, as the wind was more from the side, and I didn’t want to risk the boat being blown over, as I had no doubt that the wind had a way to go before it would moderate.

I have no memory of what happened next. I must have blanked out for a short while, as the next thing I knew was that I was in the water, my lifejacket inflated and keeping me from going under too many times. I couldn’t see the boat, just the waves as they tossed me around. I very nearly had given up, when I felt a sharp pain across the back of my legs. I couldn’t see anything in the water, and hoped that it wasn’t a shark. Another sharp pain hurt my side, and I realised that I was bleeding, but felt enough this time to realise that I was being dragged by the sea across some rocks. Then through the waves, I glimpsed a beach and some trees, and then the water lifted me up and over into the lagoon, from where I limply swan to the shore, and just collapsed on the sand.

I staggered to my feet and scanned the horizon over and over, but saw nothing out there.

I must have stood there until it was finally dark, hoping against hope that I would see something of my crew and the boat, but it was fruitless, and sad and dispirited I walked up the beach and lay down, worn out and slept until first light.

I knew roughly where I was, but had nothing on me other than my lifejacket, shorts, and the remnant of the safety line with which I had once been attached to the boat. That looked as though it had snapped, and my waist felt like it had been squeezed in a giant pincer, so I guessed that something had shot me out of the boat with enormous force. The abrasions on my legs had dried up, salt water is a good disinfectant at least.

I was starving, so remembering my childhood reading of books like Treasure Island and Robinson Crusoe, I started off down the beach to look for something edible. It sounds very trite, but there were coconuts, and using a sharp stone to bash in one end of one, I drank the liquid and tore out some pulp. Not bad, but hardly what my belly really wanted.

I rounded one headland, and looked out again to sea, hoping to see some trace of our boat, but the sea, which yesterday had been like a cauldron, was flat and calm, and there was nothing to be seen. There was nothing for it than to keep walking and see what I could find. After about half an hour, I saw a figure down by the water’s edge, and ran down to see who it was, fearing the worst.

As I got close, I saw it was Angela, but she was pale and still. I dropped to my knees beside her, and felt her forehead. She was warm, normal temperature, thank goodness, and my hand must have woken her as she jerked awake, opened her eyes and gasped out “What…what... happened to me?” Her next action took me totally by surprise as she put her arms around my neck and hugged me so tight that I wondered at her strength.

“I don’t know what happened, I must have blacked out when I was thrown out of the boat, and then I finally managed to get ashore a mile or so up the shore, or maybe down the shore, I don’t know”.

I could see that this took her aback as she then somewhat hesitantly asked “What about the others, the boat, Terry…”

“I don’t know, I have looked and looked but I haven’t seen anyone. I thought I was alone here until I found you”.

“But……where are we?”

“On one of the smaller islands in this group. I don’t know if it is inhabited or not”.

“I suppose we should look then.”

So I helped her to her feet, and we walked along the beach, looking for and hoping for some signs of human habitation. It seemed that she had hurt her ankle somehow so was limping a bit, and occasionally she took my arm to give her support. As the morning sun warmed us, I became acutely aware of what we wore. We were both in shorts, me just that, while Angela wore a by now rather dirty white bra. She was a little shorter than me, not difficult as I am 6ft 4, but she must have touched the 6ft mark, and was lithe, long tanned legs and wide shoulders above a slim waist. I know that at that precise moment, I should have had other things on my mind, but I found myself with an erection that no matter what I tried to thin of, wouldn’t go away, and just hardened again each time I looked at her beside me. Her breasts brushed the side of my chest as she used me for support. They were round and firm, and hardly needed the support of a bra. I guessed that was as much for modesty as for anything else, and I was glad for that at least.

We rounded another headland, and Angela cried out “Tracks! We aren’t alone, those are tracks down there on the next beach!”

She was right, but our thrill of discovery was snuffed out when I realised that they were mine. We had rounded the island, which must be hardly more than an atoll, and come full circle to where I had come ashore.

“Damn”, I shouted to the skies, “Damn and Fuck!”

Angela giggled, a sound that I had not heard before from her during the arduous journey we had made.

“What?” I retorted.

“Well, there is no one here to hear you! I just thought that was sort of amusing!”

I just had to smile, and told her that at least she had me!

“I guess I shall just have to make do with you then!” she replied with a little pout.

I’d never thought of her in a sexual way before, very much one of the team, but now, with that glint in her eye, and, to be frank, her dress, or lack of it, I realised that she was a real hottie. My penis obviously also thought so too, as it started to rise, and pushed out the front of my shorts.

Before I could do anything to hide it, Angie said “and it looks like you are pleased to have found me”, and laughed again, this time not a giggle but a deep throated sexy laugh.

I started to apologise, but she cut over my stumbling words with “Well, if we are really alone, there’s not going to be much to do, other than find food and…er…fuck”.

“I guess so, and somehow I am not feeling hungry yet”, I responded.

“Oh, I am, so you’ll just have to exercise self-control”, and headed for the trees up from the beach.

I made haste to find more coconuts, cutting off the end husk with a sharp stone and broke it open for her to drink, and then eat the succulent flesh.

Once she had eaten, she came close and I slipped my arm around her. Her flesh felt wonderful, and her lips were even better as we kissed.

“I’ve wanted you since we first met”, she whispered, and undid her bra, to unveil her beautiful breasts. They were not huge, but firm and tipped by nipples that were now erect, and long. Just right to be sucked, which I started to do with eagerness. The feel of her nipples between my lips was so sensual, as I licked across the tip of them, one hand feeding her breasts to my mouth in turn, and the other stroking up and down her spine, and occasionally lower to squeeze a hard muscled bottom.

She started to moan under my oral attack on her breasts, and slid her hand down to grasp my straining cock. Quickly undoing my shorts which dropped to the sand, she pulled away and dropped to her knees, taking my member in both hands, rolling it gently and licking across my helmet.

Now it was my turn to groan, as her mouth slowly engulfed me, drawing me in, deeper and deeper, until I could feel my cock head pushing into her throat. She gulped on me as she became accustomed to the size of me in her throat, and must have felt me tensing, as she then gently slid me out, holding my slimy cock and looked up at me.

“Not yet”, she smiled, “I want you right inside me”. And pushed me hard.

Over I went in the soft sand, shouting with surprise. But then she fell onto me, and drawing up her knees, slid my cock into her pussy. She was so tight, it was hard to penetrate her, despite the urgency.

“Oh god, yes, I want it … oh slow… oh… yessssss… that’s it, deeper, deeeper…”

Her heat around me as inch by inch I moved into her was perfection. I swear I could feel every part of her as I went deeper and deeper, just as she wanted. Her breasts hung over my face as she started to ride me then, and I paid them the attention they deserved, and yearned for, sucking and nipping those lovely long nipples.

“You feel wonderful, Angie”, I said, or rather grunted, as our speed was getting greater. Now my hands were on her hips, raising her up along me, and then forcing her down as hard and as fast as I could, my cock hitting deep into her body. She was groaning and shouting, a stream of filth coming from her lips as we just became animals, clawing and tearing at each other, joined together in the primitive dance, until I could hold back no more and started to spurt my ball-fulls of semen into her. As the first jet blasted out of my cock, she screamed “Fuck, fuck, fuck… yessssss”, and then the second pulse triggered her own orgasm, so my cock was squeezed and milked dry as I shot thread after thread of my seed into her.

“Wow”, was all I could say as we collapsed together.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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