COCONUT CREAM PIE part 1
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Coconut Island free porn video
"Are you awake?" I slowly opened my eyes. Cindy was crouched over me, her face framed by the waving fronds of a palm tree, the glossy sheaf of her hair brushing softly against my cheek. There are much, much worse sights to wake up to. I was napping, or had been napping, on the warm sands of a remote tropical island. Cindy and I were stranded in paradise, you see. "What is it, babe? Headhunters? A tiger?" "I want a coconut." "So have a coconut." "I can't find a nice one on the ground. Can you climb up and get me one?" I sat up with a sigh, and found myself facing a stretch of ocean so blue it should smell like chlorine instead of brine. It wasn't easy working up any sort of indignation in this setting, but I gave it a shot, just for forms sake. "You want me to risk my neck climbing up into a palm tree like a giant monkey, when there's fruit all around us? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over a kumquat. You
could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas." She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday." This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway. I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry. I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair." "You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that." Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear. When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine. Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type. I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and
don't do it on a windy day. I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves. The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free. Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run. As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers. My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?" "Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?" "Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times. I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef. "Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro. "I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch.
Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though." "Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin. "Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin. "Exsqueeze me?" "You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy." Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon." "I always knew you'd like pussyfruit." "OK, wise guy, lets eat." I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our highfructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot." "Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight." She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside. "Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins. As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "Whatcha thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?" "Nope. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I reamed your tight, hot cunny with one of those plantains." "Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work. "Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry." "Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains. "I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a..." The metaphors never come fast enough when I really need them. "...like a chicken laying a goose egg." "Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it." I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest. "Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done."
"Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindyskin. More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear. "Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that." "Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside. "You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples. "How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly. "Delish. Kinda sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tonguetip along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The most casual of observers would immediately note that the same was true of me. "Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled. Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut- flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face.
Finally she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile.
"OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut." My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord.
My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully. She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier, and slid it over my cock. The inside felt
cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the
same. "Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit." "Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?" Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off.
"I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor --"Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!" "Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly. I swallowed hard. "When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway.
She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable." "Like a banana?" She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry.
"That ought to do it, thanks hon." "All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit- fucking you'll never forget."
With the menacing überbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs. "Be gentle," she squeaked.
I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me."
I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines. "God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!" "Meaning?" "Meaning keep going." The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust. "Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned. "So is this like a religious experience, then?" "Shut up and fuck me." I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand. "Had enough?" I asked. She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come." I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in
my balls. "Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please." I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Lemme just grab a bite first." "Dee-Gee!" "OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it
against her crotch. "You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!" I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?" "Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying." "Maybe if I ate the banana now?"
Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy." "I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit. "Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie." She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full- throated cry of pleasure. After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face. "That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie." "What! What about me?" She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Jus...do whatever you wan. So....shleepy."
Wonderful. I rolled her onto her side, and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts. After thirty seconds or so Cindy started to come out of her c*** and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her. After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss. "We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here." So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise.
could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas." She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday." This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway. I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry. I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair." "You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that." Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear. When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine. Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type. I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and
don't do it on a windy day. I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves. The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free. Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run. As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers. My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?" "Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?" "Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times. I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef. "Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro. "I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch.
Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though." "Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin. "Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin. "Exsqueeze me?" "You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy." Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon." "I always knew you'd like pussyfruit." "OK, wise guy, lets eat." I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our highfructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot." "Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight." She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside. "Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins. As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "Whatcha thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?" "Nope. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I reamed your tight, hot cunny with one of those plantains." "Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work. "Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry." "Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains. "I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a..." The metaphors never come fast enough when I really need them. "...like a chicken laying a goose egg." "Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it." I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest. "Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done."
"Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindyskin. More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear. "Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that." "Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside. "You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples. "How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly. "Delish. Kinda sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tonguetip along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The most casual of observers would immediately note that the same was true of me. "Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled. Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut- flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face.
Finally she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile.
"OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut." My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord.
My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully. She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier, and slid it over my cock. The inside felt
cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the
same. "Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit." "Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?" Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off.
"I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor --"Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!" "Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly. I swallowed hard. "When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway.
She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable." "Like a banana?" She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry.
"That ought to do it, thanks hon." "All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit- fucking you'll never forget."
With the menacing überbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs. "Be gentle," she squeaked.
I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me."
I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines. "God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!" "Meaning?" "Meaning keep going." The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust. "Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned. "So is this like a religious experience, then?" "Shut up and fuck me." I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand. "Had enough?" I asked. She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come." I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in
my balls. "Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please." I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Lemme just grab a bite first." "Dee-Gee!" "OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it
against her crotch. "You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!" I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?" "Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying." "Maybe if I ate the banana now?"
Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy." "I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit. "Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie." She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full- throated cry of pleasure. After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face. "That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie." "What! What about me?" She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Jus...do whatever you wan. So....shleepy."
Wonderful. I rolled her onto her side, and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts. After thirty seconds or so Cindy started to come out of her c*** and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her. After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss. "We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here." So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise.
Maddie
- 15.06.2021
- 46
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