Osa Oladapo Goes to Fantasy Island

Introduction

The seaplane arrives at a luxurious but remote tropical island resort water dock on a small Pacific island around 9:40 am.

Mr. Roarke and his assistant, Tattoo, are at the top of the ramp that leads down to the gangway that connects the dock to the shore. Mr. Roarke shouts to his staff, "Smiles, everyone! Smiles!"

The first people to step out are an English couple in their late 50s, Edgar and Harriet Wellington. Mr. Roarke tells Tattoo that their fantasy is to live during the Renaissance as wealthy aristocracy. They are greeted by a topless girl of Asian descent in a grass skirt and given a flowery lei. Then by a topless girl of African descent, also in a grass skirt, carrying a tray with a selection of 5 different tropical alcoholic drinks.

The second person off the plane is Osa Oladapo. Mr. Roarke tells Tattoo, "Her fantasy is to find and experience the ultimate lover. I have arranged for her to meet with Giacomo Casanova,  Tallulah Bankhead, and lastly her very own brother, Adunbi, who is also here living out his fantasy of being an explorer of lost jungle ruins and discovering an unknown treasure."

Tattoo asks, "Her brother, sir?"

Osa is also greeted by the same topless girl of Asian descent in a grass skirt and given a flowery lei.

Mr. Roarke replies, "Yes. While Casanova and Bankhead are notorious for the quantity of lovers they have had, many say there is nothing quite as tantamount as making love with one's closest sibling. It is an encounter that she will need to find the ultimate lover. And as for her brother.. it is having sex with Osa that is his unknown treasure."

Then Osa is greeted by the same topless girl of African descent, in a grass skirt, carrying a tray with a selection of 3 different tropical alcoholic drinks.

Then the African girl takes the 2 remaining drinks to Mr. Roarke and Tattoo. "My dear guests! I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!" He raises his drink in greeting and takes a sip; all the guests and Tattoo follow his lead.

Chapter 1

Mr. Roarke arrives at the depository where Osa is getting dressed for her trip to Venice in 1753. "You look lovely," Mr. Roarke compliments Osa. "Are you ready to begin your search?"

Osa says, "I'm nervous but also keen."

"Your carriage awaits," he says as a Venetian-style horse and buggy pulls up at the door. Mr. Roarke opens the door and helps Osa into the carriage. It enters some thick foliage and a few seconds later exits onto a roadway, entering the "City of Canals."

Appearing in Carpenedo Woods, the carriage takes the pathways to the long wooden bridge that connects the farmlands to the central part of the city. The carriage stops, and the driver, Laurence, says, "This is as far as I can go, Miss Osa. I'm afraid from here you will have to walk." He hands Osa a leather bag with a slip of parchment with an address, official paperwork identifying her, and a sufficient amount of currency within.

Osa gets out of the carriage, walks past the horses a few feet, and stops. When she looks back, the horses and carriage are gone. She continues across the bridge, a 30-minute walk, and is stopped on the far side by the city guard, who asks for her papers. How she suddenly understands the old Venetian language amazes her, but she hands them the identifying papers and directions. They approve her papers and ask for 1/2 pence of passage tax. She gives them a copper coin, which is cut in half, with them keeping 1/2 and giving her back 1/2. They then explain to her how to get to the destination on her second paper. They return her papers to her and turn their attention to the next person waiting to enter the city. Following their instructions, Osa makes her way towards the hotel/mumbling hall that Casanova is known to frequent.

Finally, Osa arrives at the Hotel Metropole, the most upscale lodging and gambling establishment. With the currency Osa has, she can gain a private room, a hot bath, and a dinner. She went to her room, laid out a cleaner gown she had packed, took off the soiled gown she had on, and waited in her petticoat for the bath attendant.

Not long after, there was a knock at her door, and a woman's voice asked if she was ready for her bath. Osa opens the door, and a female servant offers her a Casanova like cloak to put over her petticoat. The attendant notices that there are two gowns on the bed and asks, "Would my lady wish to have her soiled garment laundered?"

Osa replies, "Yes, please."

The attendant says, "I'll send up a maid to collect your soiled clothes while you bathe. Follow me to the bathing room." In the bathing room, there is an empty tub and a tub of steaming hot water. The attendant tells Osa, "Remove your petticoat and other undergarments, and then get into the tub of hot water. I'll be back with soap and a washcloth shortly." The attendant then leaves through a back door. Osa strips and is getting into the tub when the attendant returns with another woman. The second woman collects Osa's clothing and leaves through the front door. The attendant pulls a stool out to the side of the tub, dips the rag and soap into the warm water, and instructs Osa to lean forward. She then washes Osa's back and neck and then asks Osa to lean back and wash Osa's hair and scalp. The attendant rinses Osa's hair and hands Osa the rag and soap, saying, "There is a fee if you wish me to wash more of you."

Osa takes the cloth and soap and says, "Thank you."

The attendant says, I'll be back before the water is cold," then leaves. Returning about 30 minutes later with a pair of large towels... One goes on the floor for Osa to step on as she exits the tub, and the other is wrapped around her body for her to dry herself off with. Once dry, the attendant ties the towel off on the side and helps Osa put on the cloak, and then escorts Osa back to her room. The attendant takes the cloak and leaves. Osa gets dressed in the clean gown, with a built-in slip to puff up the dress. After brushing and pulling her hair into a bun, Osa traversed the uneven stones of Campo Santa Margherita and made her way toward St. Mark's Square. Because of the season, the corners were empty of gelaterias, and a spindrift haze made the air glow with a luminous mist. And at night, the Rialto Bridge arched over cold, dark water illuminated with wavering globes of reflected light. Everywhere she looked, Venice was a glittering feast.

She gazed at the Byzantine mosaics luminous in the pale morning light and spoke only to the sleepy vendors who sold her cappuccino. Looking at the Basilica of St. Mark's, Osa felt as though she was looking through a glass of pale champagne, and in those comparatively lonely hours, Venice had all the mystery and silence she had imagined.

The Venezia Trionfante was the most famous "bodega da caffe" of the 1720s. Since its opening, it had been frequented by an illustrious clientele. Nobles, ambassadors, and merchants patronized it. Because it was then the only coffee shop to admit women, Casanova went there in quest of companions.

As Osa sat at her small table, warming her hands on a coffee cup, she noticed a man writing energetically on a piece of yellow paper. His hair was windblown and fell slightly over the collar of a black topcoat.

A man walked up to her and said that her kind doesn't belong in this establishment. She suggested she believed the establishment was open to women as well as men. He responded to her that people of her color have no place in such an upscale place and she needs to go to where her people are, back to Africa. Casanova gets up from his table and says that this exquisitely beautiful woman is with him and extends his hand to Osa. Osa accepts Casanova's hand and follows him to his table. The man leaves with a huff, and a small round of applause erupts from the patrons.

Casanova introduces himself, and Osa introduces herself. Casanova apologizes for the American's bigoted comments, assuring her that Venetian men enjoy the pleasantries of women of all nationalities. Osa thanks him and reassures him she also enjoys the pleasantries of men of all nationalities. Casanova tips down the remnants of his coffee, as does Osa, then invites her back to his hotel, stating that it is near to the bottega. Hands up, she takes his hand, and they walk briskly through the crowded streets.

They arrived at the hotel, climbed the magnificent staircase, and entered his room in silence. It was a silence, however, that vibrated with the current of attraction between them. Once in the open doorway, he stood still, deliberately awaiting a sign of her disposition to come into the room. She did, closed the door, and began the unbuttoning she had pictured in her head all the way to the hotel. When his lips met hers, they were cool, but as soon as they parted, the kiss became deeper, and the warmth and wetness started a hot pulsing that banished reason from her mind.

Osa was hardly aware of how they moved from the foyer to the bedroom, but moments later, there they were. She needed a moment to calm her roaring pulse, so she left him on a chair and escaped to his dressing room to collect herself. While she was there, she looked in the mirror and saw audacity and recklessness in her reflection. She went with it. She was feeling adventurous, and she could only blame the espresso and Venice. Her scarf and gloves were in disarray, her dress already half-unbuttoned, so she set her deshabille to rights by removing both and exiting the dressing room.

She stood in the doorway. She was wearing only a pair of stockings and nothing more. He inhaled, eased off the chair, and began kissing the decorative banding at the top of the stockings. Then the tops of the stockings, where they turned to soft, brown thigh. She gasped, moving slightly, as Casanova made a trail of kisses around the tops of her stockings.

She felt unsteady on her feet as he kissed the firm, brown insides of her thighs above the stockings, but she balanced precariously. Then the sensations moved as he kissed the outsides of her thighs above the stockings. He rubbed his lips lightly on the inside of her thighs, and his action sent another shiver straight up. But when he scraped the skin harder with his chin, the sensation of roughness mixed with pleasure and transformed her into a creature of unmitigated craving. She wound her fingers through his hair and gripped hard.

There was an intake of breath as his kisses glided over her tummy. Osa had trouble holding still as tiny kisses fell on her skin. She shivered as his lips, gentle but insistent, contacted her exposed left hip. Then she murmured "ooh" as his kisses became tiny nibbles. Her hips seemed to move involuntarily. Then she felt his tongue on her tummy, drawing lines on the tender flesh.

Casanova felt a rush of cold air and realized that he had left the window slightly open. The wind died, and heat replaced the brief chill. He clawed for the cool reason he usually found so readily in scholarly discussions of money supply. But the reason was gone. As he kissed along the softness of Osa's flesh, he was reminded of delicious chocolates sometimes available on St. Valentine's Day. Chocolates that could be consumed in a single bite, but so succulent that he ate them in four small portions to savor the taste.

He wrapped an arm around her right thigh and saw, as if through a glass darkly, her chocolate skin. He glanced up, swept his hair out of his eyes, and looked over at the mirror. He could see her firm, brown hips, exposed by her nakedness. He gently turned her around and kissed her lower back. Her wickedly seductive nudity entirely exposed her hips. Casanova bent his head and kissed her right hip. But it was moving, almost in a rhythm, and it proved no easy task. Osa shivered as his lips, gentle but insistent, contacted her exposed hip.

He sensed he could not savor the moment if he kept on with the kissing, so he made himself slow down. For a long moment, he paused, driving Osa almost to delirium. She turned around and pulled him up so that they were facing each other. Looking directly into her eyes, he grazed her breasts with the flat of his hand, and she caught her breath. His fingers explored her bare skin. When he touched her nipple and squeezed ever so slightly, her breath came out in a tiny moan.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, and she undid the buttons on his shirt with frantic haste, needing to feel the weight of his body on top of her. Or, she imagined, sitting astride him with those hands cupping both her breasts. Somehow, she found they were next to the bed, then on it, and their limbs were intertwined as his lips never left hers. He extricated his own arms from his sleeves, and then there was nothing between them.

She arched upward against him, and when he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, she gasped again. While his one hand held her arms, the other slipped from his fingers, where he found her warm and wet. Just as she thought she could stand it no more, he withdrew his fingers and stroked her on the outside, and she felt she would explode. A pulsating heat grew in her loins and threatened to consume her. When he touched her bare skin again, she quivered, and then the heat spread throughout her entire body like a volcanic eruption, leaving her shaken and breathless when it finally stopped.

But the night was young. Osa felt his hands, one on each hip. She writhed as his hands, large and strong, caressed her hips. When his hands moved to the side-ties of the thong, she elevated her back, and his kisses burned over the front of her honeypot. She could feel his breath as he kissed her down there.

Shuddering in pleasure, Osa twisted sinuously on the bed. Half-turned, and then she was fully turned, face-down, down, on the bed. But the kisses did not halt as Osa squirmed. The kisses meandered over her spine. She imagined a butterfly as his kisses teased her firm hips. She twisted again, turned, and his kisses were on her tummy. As they drifted lower, she felt his hands gently slide down. She experienced another frisson of pleasure.

His movements were not abrupt or spasmodic. Although Casanova hated to note its departure, he was delighted to discover Osa's devotion to waxing. However, he was not taken aback by this revelation. Even at the cafe, there had been an undercurrent of sensuality.

As if drawn by some unknown force, Casanova had no ability to resist. He had no capacity to resist a warm cinnamon pastry either. And he knew it would not be merely prudent, but necessary, to test the success of the wax. Was it really smooth? Osa moaned as his tongue traced the outline of her outer labia, realizing that she was now expecting her second orgasm.

Then he moved, and Osa realized that she was sitting astride him. His hands were caressing her hips, and she was moving slowly, her eyes partly closed, teeth clenched. He reached up and teased her right nipple, his fingers lightly flicking it. The combination of sensations was exquisite. Osa bent slightly and began teasing one of his nipples. Turnabout was fair play, and the empty evening in Venice seemed to turn into a sensual exchange par excellence.

He caressed and massaged her breasts while she sat in his lap. When he sucked, she pressed her breast against his face and gently held his head. Then his hands traveled up and down her sides and ended up holding the soft mounds of her ass as he pulled her onto his dick for another orgasm that she felt curling down her spine, stretching around her pelvis, and then forcing her to squeeze tight around his cock.

The sound was so soft and relaxed and full of pleasure that it pushed him toward the edge, and he almost came inside of her then. Her body was brown and warm, smoothly wrapping around her curves, puckering and deepening at her nipples. His hands seemed so white and even cold as they cradled her hips.  

Osa sat erect in his lap, dazed from the force of pleasure and dreamily focused on his lean body. He caught her watching him, but instead of glancing away, she held his gaze as she reached a hand behind her to cup his balls. They were round, soft-skinned, and heavy. She weighed the fruit's fullness in her palm and began to stroke it. He lifted his hips in response. Her hand was firm, coaxing, and pleasing, but not enough to bring release. For long minutes she sat there in his lap, cupping and massaging his balls, but he resisted release.

She reached between them and began to play with her clit, but he soon pulled her hands away and pumped her body deep and slow. Osa squirmed on the sheets, whispering and begging for him not to stop. To keep fucking her, keep filling her with his cum. The lubrication made it easy for him to move in and out of her, reaching deep inside.

The wet slapping sounds echoed in the quiet room. Osa felt like her mind was losing all control of her body. She was rapidly spiraling into a climax. She was fucking her man; they were now real lovers.

Casanova discovered a renewed strength and utilized it to compel Osa with intense desire. His hips moved with the fluidity of a machine. Time and again, he immersed himself deeply, causing her essence to splash onto his thighs and groin, with audible sounds accompanying the impact against her body.

Her body trembled, and fireworks exploded behind her lids.

He reached his peak and began to release his seed into Osa. Squirt after squirt poured from him and into her, filling the tight hole until it gushed. He could feel her body tense as wave after wave of ecstasy took her to a place of primal gratification and celestial bliss that she had never been to before. Life-giving sperm continued to surge into the depths of her womb.

The thought of being filled with sperm was too much for Osa, and she began to climax again.

Interlude 1

Mr. Roarke takes Edgar and Harriet Wellington to a present-day French-style mansion, explaining to them, "For the next week, you will live in this mansion as master and mistress under the watchful eye of Laurence, the butler. Anything you wish, Laurence will provide, be it food, entertainment, aristocratic outings, or more perverse desires. Laurence escorts the Wellingtons into the mansion to change clothes. As soon as they go inside, Mr. Roarke disappears and the grounds staff appear out of nowhere. When Laurence gets them each to their private room, the house staff appears from a side room and begins their chores. Once dressed, they are ushered to the dining hall for a leisurely hour-long luncheon.

Chapter 2

It was a foggy night in Venice when Osa left Casanova to head back to her lodging. When the fog lifts, she comes out of the fog in Hollywood of 1932. A 1931 Dodge DD Sedan nearly struck confused and disoriented, Osa stumbles onto the paved street and. The driver stopped inches from striking her. A woman leans out of the rear window and shouts, "Are you alright, dear?"

Osa responds, "I'm sorry. I'm lost and confused."

"Where are you trying to get to?" the driver asks.

"The Hotel Metropole," Osa replies.

The lady in the back laughs, and the driver chuckles. Then the lady says, "My dear, that's in Venice. We're in London."

Osa is dazed by the explanation. The woman sees the serious confusion on Osa's face and becomes concerned that something nefarious may have happened. "Come on, dear, get in." The back door opens. "You can come with me, and we'll figure it out at my hotel."

Osa gets in the car. "Thank you for your hospitality. My name is Osa." Osa offers her hand to the other woman.

"Driver, continue on, please." The car moves. Taking Osa's hand, she introduces herself. "I'm Tallulah Bankhead."

Osa's eyes widen, and she realizes it was Mr. Roarke who brought her here. "The famous American actress?"

Tallulah smiles. "You have heard of me in your country... Nigeria?"

Osa makes up something on the spot to appeal to Tallulah's ego: Of course, the most beautiful actress in all the world. Women want to be you, and men want to be with you."

Tallulah smiles even bigger, to the point her cheeks ache a bit. "Well, first things first, dear. We need to get you out of that dress. It's nice, but horribly out of date. I should have something you can wear. Then we will figure out exactly where you're supposed to be."

A few minutes later, Osa was in Tallulah's hotel suite bedroom looking through a closet full of clothes. Tallulah gets two dresses for Osa to try, a Gold Fringe Flapper Dress with a sheer lining and a black and Gold Gatsby Dress with a black boa. "Try these on; if they fit, then you can try a few more tomorrow. Tonight you're going with me to an after-party." Tallulah undresses in front of Osa as if they were longtime friends. Hurry, don't dally. We don't have all night."

Osa begins changing as well; in moments, both women are as naked as the day they were born. Her skin is dark even by black standards, but under Tallulah's appreciative gaze she felt less embarrassed by it than she ever had being naked with someone before. Tallulah says, "You have a lovely body, my dear. Are you a dancer?"

Osa tells her, "I love swimming and running."

"An athlete. I wish I had your body," Tallulah responds.

Osa says, "You have nothing to be jealous of; you have a very nice body herself.

Tallulah smiles. "You're such a sweetheart, dear Osa. Let's stop doting over each other's beauty and finish dressing."

As soon as they are dressed, Osa in the black and gold Gatsby dress and black boa and Tallulah in a black v-neck satin evening gown, they rush down to the car and hop in the back seat. Tallulah pulls out a small purse and freshens her makeup, then gives Osa a quick makeover. Shortly after, the car comes to a stop at the Grand Hotel. Tallulah takes Osa by the arm and escorts her into the grand ballroom, where there are dozens of celebrities, as well as a band with a space for dancing and plenty of food. Tallulah introduces Osa: "This is Osa; she's my accompaniment for the night."

The night at the ball was amazing. Osa had many men and woman flirt with her, tell her how beautiful she was, and how amazing she looked in that dress. The food and drinks had Osa's head spinning. She ended up in the men's room, getting her pussy stuffed by a white male celerity, and then in the ladies room, getting his sperm licked out of her pussy by his white wife.

By the end of the night Osa had managed to find Tallula, and they were holding hands or linking arms the remainder of the night. The party ended late in the morning, and Osa ended up back at Tallula's bedroom.

Their tongues danced, and their hands traveled and explored each other's bodies as their clothes fell to the floor. Osa's brown and toned hourglass figure cast a silhouette onto the walls.

Breaking our kiss, Tallula whispered into her ear, "Lay down," and gestured towards the chaise lounge.

Osa's dark body lay down, black hair spreading out; she smiled and spread her legs. Tallula could see the glistening of her wetness even in the dull flickering candlelight. Tallula positioned herself between Osa's legs and lightly grazed her fingertips over Osa's clit.

Osa flinched as she softly moaned.

Tallula wanted to give her what she so desperately craved.

Tallula moved and kissed her way down Osa's body.

Osa trembled with anticipation.

"I know you've never been with a girl before. Don't worry," Tallula kissed her thigh. "I'll take good care of you, Osa."

She again kissed her inner thighs from side to side, teasing her with her tongue. Tallula gradually extended her tongue into Osa's moist opening, delicately tracing the length of her. She then gently flicked her tongue over Osa's clitoris and drew the sensitive bud into her mouth. Tallula flicked her tongue across Osa's clit and sucked the tender nub into her mouth.

Tallula circled her clit with her tongue a few times until Tallula slipped two of her fingers past Osa's entrance and deep inside her.

Osa's eyes rolled in pleasure as Tallula sank her fingers inside of her over and over, gently fucking her. With her free hand, Tallula reached up and lightly squeezed Osa's nipple as Tallula sucked on her engorged clit.

Osa couldn't hold back her soft moans.

Osa's juices dripped down her hand as Tallula curled her fingers into her, massaging her G-spot.

Tallula increased her speed, and Osa's breathing became increasingly labored. Tallula knew she was right on the edge.

Tallula slipped a third finger into her soaking wetness, and her body began to shake, almost vibrating against her tongue. Osa arched her back as her hands held her head between her legs as she came apart. Her sweet juices filled Tallula's mouth.

Osa sat up and pulled Tallula on top of her, bringing their naked bodies together. Osa sat up and pulled Tallula on top of her, bringing their naked bodies together. She kissed Tallula passionately, as if experiencing an unprecedented level of pleasure. Osa slipped her tongue into Tallula's mouth and moaned as she tasted her own juices. Osa slipped her tongue into Tallula's mouth and moaned as she tasted her own juices.

Osa flipped around and positioned herself on top of Tallula with her legs between Tallula's and began to slowly rock back and forth, grinding their hot centers together. Back and forth, Tallula could feel their slickness form a puddle beneath them. Osa reached down, taking hold of Tallula's breasts, and caressed and pinched her nipples as she ground harder and faster. Tallula felt herself get closer and closer to orgasm, as she grabbed Osa's hips. Tallula quickened her pace. Heaving breathing and soft moans filled the room as they reached their climax together and slowly collapsed into each other's embrace.

Osa and Tallula lay breathless on the bed, their hands still caressing each other's curves. Their legs were still shaking from their orgasms.

Interlude 2

Days before, Osa had arrived on "the Island"; her brother, Adunbi, had arrived to undergo his fantasy, to be an explorer of lost jungle ruins and discover an unknown treasure.

Adunbi was looking to make discoveries in this remote corner of the world. Adunbi was a fairly outgoing man.

The plan for the next day was to go to his field station, along a tributary of the Amazon in the far west.

Adunbi was a decent-looking Nigerian guy, 32 years old, and he worked out enough that he felt confident with his shirt off.

Six in the morning came way too quickly, but his mind was buzzing with the excitement of the trip. His boat would spend 12 hours motoring through tributaries and small channels to the field research station where the real work would begin.

The boats were shiny and new; they had an open upper and enclosed lower deck with benches for seating. He stowed his backpack below deck and returned to the top deck with his camera and notebook. He found an empty seat on the edge of the boat where he could do some sightseeing and settled in for a long ride.

The boat had motored upriver past the little town of Benjamin Constant, where the river had narrowed from more than a mile across down to a half mile. The river swung in all directions, seeming to loop back on itself, so that 10 miles as the crow flies turned into more than twice that distance in a boat.

They turned up several channels and tributaries so that the river was down to 200 yards across, then down to only 100 yards. He filled up half of his first memory card taking pictures of wildlife, little villages, scenic vistas, and the people on the boat with me.

Still the boat chugged up the river. A lunch of beans, rice, and steak was served in the small galley.

He walked around the boat, went below, and finally tried to lie down for a nap on a bench.

Shouts woke Adunbi as we arrived at the research station. It had started raining while we were asleep, and it was dumping hard. Everyone above deck was soaked as though they had jumped into the river. He found a poncho in his backpack but decided that it was way too hot and humid to risk putting it on. Instead he wrapped it around his backpack and stepped out into the warm showers outside.

The research camp consisted of two dozen shipping containers that had been refitted as living quarters, laboratories, offices, a mess hall, and a rec room. A barge floated them upriver, and a crane placed them on shore. There was a floating dock that led from the river through the grass and vines and up onto the bank.

The spot had been chosen for its elevation above the river, as well as its proximity to virgin forest. The location was a center of biodiversity, which meant that many plants and animals had evolved here, and there were ancestral versions of common plants and animals that were found nowhere else in Brazil or the world.

Our living quarters were tiny: 8'x8' with a metal and nylon cot and a few shelves for personal items. We each got our rooms. There was a little window in each, but no air conditioning. Several majestic trees shaded the camp, keeping out the rest of the vegetation. There was a generator that gave lights and power to all buildings, but only the rec room, mess hall, and labs had air conditioners.

Adunbi wandered around the research station, taking in the landscape. Nearly four acres had been cleared of all but the biggest trees, and a native Bermuda grass had been planted for erosion control and to keep the mud down. Rows and rows of native trees had been planted nearby, and he soon learned why. They were each some sort of fruit or nut tree, and they brought the wildlife in. Birds and monkeys were immediately visible in the young trees, and he was sure that fruit bats and insects would also be in abundance come nightfall.

Adunbi used his knife to cut a ripe guava that the animals had not yet attacked in half.  

Dinner was once again beans and rice, though this time there would be pork skewers instead of steak.  

Doing aerial surveys of the area, the Brazilian government picked up infrared images of an uncontacted native tribe 40 miles southwest of our research station. The observation was conducted at night using canopy-penetrating observation equipment. It first picked up the heat signatures of campfires, and then further flyovers allowed them to count warm bodies.

The lack of disturbed vegetation ruled out illegal loggers or farmers. The presence of children ruled out pirates, and there were no other known contact villages besides us within 60 miles of the native village. Joao directed our attention to a map on the wall. We were told not to enter the forest area marked by a big red circle around the village. He took a picture with his cell phone to study later. There were also streams that he hadn't seen before on satellite maps, which could prove useful to his research.

Joao further instructed us what to do if we somehow did come into contact accidentally. We were to assume that any interaction could become violent and not fight back. We were to run away. The Brazilian government protects its uncontacted natives, and we had no rights in their territory.

Adunbi would paddle 4 miles upriver to where there was a small tributary stream that he had spotted on Google Earth and confirmed on the map in the mess hall. He would travel upstream until he found what he was looking for. He would take his camping gear but leave most of his food behind. He intended to spend two days upstream and one night, returning before sunset the next day.

He went down to the floating dock to inflate his boat. It was a lovely piece of equipment. It had a thin rubber bladder protected by an incredibly durable fabric. It inflated in about 3 minutes and weighed only about 7 pounds.

It offered space behind the single seat for his backpack or a small person. He brought along his pack with the tent, his smartphone (even though there was no cell service), tablet, a satellite texting device, the radio from Alfonso, a solar charging panel, his med kit (antibiotics, anti-malarials, painkillers, etc.), an emergency medical kit, an emergency survival kit, his machete, and more food than he would need for twice his expected time away from the station.

Adunbi silently sailed up the river without any warning. Even against the current, the kayak was incredibly easy to paddle and maneuver, and he quickly rounded a bend and set off on his own.

Adunbi found the stream without a pCasanovalem. The brown, muddy water of the main river gave way to a clean, clear stream. He paddled 1/2 a mile upstream before the channel split, and the water was too shallow to continue by kayak. He deflated and rolled up his boat and stored it in his backpack.

Adunbi started collecting here, putting each mayfly nymph he found into its small collection tube and marking the location in his notebook. He also took GPS and photos of the collection site before hiking upstream.

There was a waterfall every few hundred yards, with breathtaking plants and animals all around. After hiking 2 miles upstream, he concluded that he had collected all the species found along this stretch of the stream.

Adunbi stripped his clothes off and went for a swim in a clear pool below a particularly beautiful waterfall.

When he reached the fork in the river where he had taken his boat out, he took a break for lunch and then hiked up the other fork. He could tell he was covering the same ground in his collections, but it was still beautiful. He made a change of plans after only 1/2 a mile and turned back.

Adunbi inflated his boat and let the current take me back out to the main river and downstream about 3 miles.

Adunbi found another small stream and decided to go explore it. It hadn't been on the map because it was so small. Upon checking his GPS, he discovered that he was only approximately a mile away from the research station. However, if he were to follow the curve of the river, he would still be a mile away.

The sun was getting low by now, so he set up his tent along the little stream, using his machete to clear enough ground and piling the branches and bushes up. He made a little meal with a small gas stove of freeze-dried spaghetti and turned in for the night.

Chapter 3

She can feel herself sprawled out, hair covering her face. She racks her brain. What happened last night? How did she get here? She shouldn't be here; she should be somewhere else. Where should she be? She couldn't remember anything. She slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. She is dripping wet, but not cold. A gentle breeze lifts her tangled hair from her clenched eyes, eyes she is too scared to open.

She rolls onto her back and digs her hands into the ground. They come away filled with sand. She hears it trickle back to the ground. She listened intently, hearing the swish of water that seemed so close.

She slowly sits up and opens her still-clenched eyes.

She blinks. The sand is like sugar, the sea and sky blurring into one streak. It is reminiscent of an oil painting.

A single seagull caws, bobbing on the crystal sea. Behind her is a vibrant green jungle dotted with pinks and yellows.

She stands up, and she runs into the sea, enjoying the feel of water cooling her legs and swirling around her.

She looks down at herself and realizes for the first time how ragged her clothes are and how alone she is...

She staggers backwards and sits back on the sandy bank, her head spinning.

Lost, she calls for Mr. Roarke, but to no avail. All her shouting did was stir up the wildlife and startle the local wildlife.

Standing up from the sandy slope, she wipes tears from her eyes. She has to find someone, or she'll die. She has no food, no water, and no shelter.

She walks along the edge of the sea; her toes tickle each time the water splashes them.

She removed all her garments, feeling instantly cooler and more flexible mobility-wise. She bathed in a lagoon, naked. She enjoyed the sensual experience of swimming in the open, fully exposed. She was in the lagoon lounging on a rock near the small waterfall when she saw two mammal-like animals apparently in courtship, the male displaying himself for the female, attempting to encourage her to mate with him, sniffing at her to make sure she was ripe.

She knew the pleasures of many men--larger men with more stamina--who had given her amazing orgasms and had required her to perform unspeakable acts on them. Such thoughts made her feel horny and crave a man's cock inside her.

As it was, she could only reach for her pussy and pleasure herself with her hand in the cool water of the lagoon, her fingers parting her dark brown flesh and finding her intimacy within her soft, fleshy folds.

Her free hand crushed her breasts and pinched her nipples, already erect and hard from the chill of the water.

Despite knowing she was alone, irrationally she felt like the trees, the birds, and the animals were watching her, just like she had watched the two little beasts mate. The thrill of pleasuring herself in the wild, with the guilty thought of being watched, piqued her arousal, and she began to fantasize that she wasn't alone at all and was being taken by a strong, muscular man with a raging cock right there in the lagoon.

It wasn't long before the forest echoed to the sounds of orgasm. Despite expectations and unbeknownst to Osa, the sound had been heard.

By now she strode around pretty much naked during the day. Her rationale was that she would need these garments should she ever be rescued, and she needed to conserve them and not wear them out. She loved the thrill of being naked in nature, with no one to see her. She did not need them for warmth, not even at night, thanks to the fire and temperate climate.

She folded her arms beneath her head and let her eyes drift shut.

She had barely closed her eyes when a violent wrench wrenched her awake. A fist was tangled in her hair, pulling her face up out of the sand to stare into a pair of dark brown eyes.

The man who held her wasn't even as tall as she was. He was dark-skinned and sinewy, like something you'd expect from National Geographic. His face and chest were completely covered in dark black tribal tattoos, which did not form any discernible pattern or picture. A bone pierced his septum. He toyed with the nose ring and bone as he screeched at her in some unintelligible language.

A second man stood behind him, curiously staring at Osa, then pulling a crude knife from his hip. Both men were wearing simple leather loincloths that didn't quite cover their maleness. The man slowly approached closer, taking the blade and pressing it against her throat.

Osa couldn't scream; her voice fled as she looked into the man's eyes. She instantly knew he wasn't an actor, the knife wasn't fake, and she was in no way safe. Her body trembled as she felt the sharp tip of the knife travel down her neck to her chest, lightly grazing over her flesh and slitting the bikini top off. As soon as her breasts were freed, the man exploded into a tirade of short, quick words and pointed excitedly at them. The other man shook his head and wrenched her head to one side, painfully twisting her neck in the process.

Now she could see at least a dozen more men approaching from across the sands. They all wore similar leather or fur loincloths. They were all dressed similarly in leather or fur loincloths. Every one of them had tattoos, and several had piercings in their noses or ears. Most of them were armed in some way, either holding daggers or spears as they made their way down the beach toward her.

Before she could react, two of the natives forcefully spread her ankles apart, causing her to fear injury.

"Stop!" She shrieked, trying vainly to close her legs. The men easily held her in place, randomly spouting gibberish between them. "No, stop!" Osa screamed as the man with the dagger walked between her spread legs and smiled. Despite the fist tangled in her hair, Osa managed to get her head up high enough to watch the man spit on his cock and spread it around with his fingers.

It was nothing impressive, probably less than 12 cm, and it was already hard. At that moment, though, it was the most horrific thing she'd ever seen. The man got down on his knees and pointed his cock at her opening.

A terrified shriek tore free of Osa's lips as she felt his manhood plunge into her. He buried himself. He was in her cunt in a single stroke. She noticed then just how short he actually was; his face was conveniently nestled between her tits. He reached up and grasped a mound of flesh, and he dug his dirty fingers into her skin and looked into her eyes. Osa couldn't find the will to drag her eyes away from his; instead, she stared back as her rapist plunged his cock into her body.

There were a few deep thrusts before her insolent body began to betray her. It started with an odd wetness between her thighs. Tears filled her eyes as she moved her hips against the intruding presence. The native's cock was far from the largest she'd ever felt, but it certainly hit the right spots, driving her body closer and closer to the edge.

She bit her lip, drawing a slight trickle of blood as she tried to drown out the growing buzz. It was impossible to ignore the cock sawing in and out of her body, though. She couldn't even find the willpower to fight against her urges. The pain of his dirty nails digging into her breasts was unbearable to her. The only thing in her mind was how powerful his cock felt plunging into her.

Osa opened her mouth to scream, feeling the man's cock pulsing inside her. She felt the warm cream erupting from his manhood and flooding her innards. Even worse, she could feel her body clenching tightly around him, trying to draw every last drop out of the little man's cock as he pushed himself as far into her as he could.

Native kept his cock buried inside her until it softened, then he pulled it out, wiping the mixture of juices on her thighs, and casually said something to his companions. Osa glanced around in fear, wondering who would be the next to assault her, resigned to her fate.

Instead, her head was wrenched back down into the sand, and something soft, a sponge perhaps, was shoved into her mouth and then tied in place with a piece of twine. They also quickly bound her wrists and ankles. A spear was thrust between her arms and legs, and with two in front and two behind, they lifted her easily off the sand and started walking into the jungle.

Oh my god, where are they taking me? Osa tried to shriek, but the sponge absorbed every sound. She couldn't get enough leverage to escape either; even if she could, they would easily capture her again. They didn't give her a lot of time to think, though; she felt a light prick in her side. Osa had just enough time to recognize it as a dart before she passed out.

Osa groaned around the sponge as she fought to open her eyes. When she managed, she realized she was still bound, a few feet off the ground. She couldn't see much from her position; most of what she could see was a tight circle of tents. It resembled a scene from National Geographic. Beside her was a giant pot, nearly the size of a small spa.

She'd barely gotten her eyes open when they started crowding around her, chattering. Men surrounded her on all sides, seemingly devoid of any women.

To her left was the man who'd initially captured her; she recognized him by the bone piercing his nose. He was glaring down at her, wagging his cock only inches from her face. With a twisted smile, he walked over to her and finally spoke in English. He spoke extremely slowly as he struggled to force his lips to form the foreign words. "Wake up, bitch." He stepped closer and slammed his powerful cock down over her forehead. "Suck."

Osa looked up at him in amazement; it was the combination of the fact that he'd spoken and what he said. The idea of refusing him lasted all of one second; the hesitation ended with him thrusting his thumbs into the corners of her mouth and forcing her lips open. A moment later his cock was buried in her throat, pumping slowly back and forth. The moment he slammed his cock into her mouth, her body retched, attempting to reject the invading phallus. Her throat clenched down and her stomach tightened as he used her face like he had her pussy earlier.

Her assailant laughed as he thrust in and out of her mouth, watching her body wriggle to escape him. Of course, dangling by her hands and feet, there would be no escape for her; she could barely turn her head with his cock lodged firmly in her throat. Osa tried to scream around the invading cock; she couldn't get a single sound to escape her lips, though. Instead, a particularly deep thrust forced her to lunge forward, coating his cock in a layer of spit.

Around her, she could hear the collective laughter and chatter of the rest of the men. She wouldn't have paid attention if another man hadn't walked up alongside her and stretched her mouth farther, forcing her to accept two cocks between her lips. In tandem, the two sawed in and out of her mouth, letting her coat them both with spittle. From her inverted angle, she could see her frothy white spittle oozing down over both men's nut sacks and gathering in the black tangle of pubic hair.

Suddenly, her lower half collapsed, causing her ass to crash into the hard dirt beneath her. Osa barely noticed that her legs were free; she was too concerned with keeping air in her lungs. The spittle coating the men's cocks had started dripping down into her nose, making it even harder for her to breathe. The most distressing aspect was that a part of her was relishing the degradation. It was precisely what she'd always wanted, and now that it was happening, her body was going wild.

She could feel her juices oozing down between her thighs, and her clit started throbbing in anticipation. One of the men lifted her up slightly and sat her down on his cock. Osa gasped as a third cock entered her body. Her hips instantly started grinding on the man's cock, driving to the spots she needed to feel it.

As Osa positioned herself, she sensed one of the members beginning to pulsate in her mouth. Given her circumstances, there was little she could do to assist other than to attempt to use her tongue effectively. In her position, there wasn't much she could do to help, apart from try to work her tongue against her. The two men continued their assault, filling her mouth with more cock than she thought possible. Her jaw began to ache, and her lips felt like they would split with each forceful thrust.

Osa's eyes clenched shut as her spit oozed over her cheeks and over her eyes. A man straddled her hips and roughly gripped her chest. His fingers mauled her nipples as his powerful cock ground against her clit. He forced a pair of fingers into her pussy, stretching her open. Osa groaned as she felt a second cock stretching her pussy wider than it had ever been.

Osa shrieked in pain as the two men started hammering into her cunt. One of the cocks, stretching her lips open, spurted hot jizz in her mouth, drowning out most of the sound. She sounded like she was gargling the cum oozing into her mouth. Osa gagged, spewing cum out of her lips and over her cheeks again. A desperate groan rumbled in her throat as the thick cream slid down her gullet into her stomach.

That at least earned her a little reprieve as one of the cocks softened and fell out of her mouth, leaving the helpless victim being triple penetrated. A few thrusts later, the second man pulled out of her mouth, spewing his cum on her. Her face was a mess. Tears, spit, and cum covered her entire face, sealing her left eye shut, as she was barely able to see through a blurred lens of cum.

Osa sobbed in pain as the two men's assault on her pussy reached a climax. Both men pulled back simultaneously and then slammed forward together. Both were pulsing inside her at the same time, hammering into her pussy, stretching it beyond anything she'd ever imagined. She felt each blast of cum as the men climaxed inside her and then stepped away.

The men untied Osa's arms, letting her collapse to the floor, too exhausted to do anything else. For a moment, she stayed like that, but then the men gripped her and tied her arms behind her back and her ankles as well, hogtying her and lifting her up.

"No more." As they lifted her into the air, Osa whimpered. Even when she spotted the enormous black cauldron they seemed to be heading towards, there was no fight in her.

* * *

Adunbi heard a girl screaming, and he ran into the jungle to hear the sounds of the commotion.

He stepped out from behind a tree into the shadows, and there was his sister Osa, standing there and crying with her bra off and pressed to her ample bosom and her blouse lying in a mud puddle. Dozens of men stood around her in a circle as she cried. Osa was crying and saying, "Please don't hurt me. I will do anything you say."

The men had faces that were masks of lust, almost like animals. He can not remember why or what he was thinking when he watched Osa's small breasts jiggle as she moved.

Then the machete he held hacked into the knee of one of them, and he was screaming in pain as he fell. The sound of that machete rising and falling was like a fat man hitting a side of beef with a baseball bat. The man just screamed and screamed over and over as he hit him.

The one on the left ran at Adunbi. Adunbi swung around and caught his chin with the machete as he struck. He heard a cracking sound as his teeth and jaw broke. The third one snapped to action and reached into his large, baggy shirt, and Adunbi threw the machete at him. His screams were the loudest as the sharp point of the machete entered his shoulder and pinned him to the tree behind him. He passed out with pain and hung from that tree like a rat.

Adunbi stood before Osa and looked at her breasts. They stood there for maybe a minute, and he never removed his eyes from her breasts. The sight of those men surrounding her filled her eyes with horror. Finally she spoke, "Adu, could you please help me leave this place?" Her bosom jiggled as she spoke. He turned her around and removed his t-shirt to cover her.

Adunbi scooped up Osa and carried her through the jungle. She clung to him tightly, one arm around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, the other hand on his chest. Back at his campsite, Adunbi sets Osa down. Osa immediately takes off his borrowed shirt and steps into the river to scrub the feeling of the encounter off her body. While she bathed, he took brown branches and leaves to camouflage his tent. He has also laid out a towel on a rock near the shore. Adunbi didn't light a fire that night; he would rather not draw unwanted attention to them. She bathed for over an hour, until it started getting too dark to see.

She came out of the river, used the town to dry herself off, then wrapped it around herself as a makeshift dress. He handed her some dried fruit and a small can of beans and gravy. After they ate, it was dark, and the bags were becoming overwhelming. They climbed into the tent together; she discarded the towel, and she removed his shoes and trousers. Then they cuddled for warmth and comfort.

His hand reached for her pussy, and she spread her legs more for him. His fingers slid inside her. She gasped at the wonderful intrusion. Her kisses increased in intensity as they continued to fondle each other. They had their hands on each other's most intimate parts, gaining carnal awareness of one another.

She didn't object when he turned and pulled her onto him. She moved higher, her legs opened around his hips, and he pulled her ass toward him. Taking the head of his cock, he places it at her pussy entrance, and slowly rubbed the head back and forth. She flinched each time the tip of his penis made contact with her clitoris. He slowly slid his cock inside her, leaving them with nothing to do but moan. She gave a slight smile as he pushed deeper into her hot, tight velvet tunnel, and she started shaking her head from side to side. She could feel her cunt squeezing his dick like a vise in a woodworker's yard. Her brother's cock was inside her. He started moving slowly in and out at first. Her hungry cunt pressed down onto him, taking his full length inside her. They were aggressively trying to swallow the other's tongue while our pelvises ground together with unrestrained passion. He was truly relishing the pleasure of fucking his younger sister. She wanted him as deeply inside her as possible. His cock was easily touching her cervix, something other men rarely did. Her well-endowed brother was fucking her.

He put her legs over his shoulders so he could get deeper and see his cock pounding his little sister's hot pussy. He let loose and vigorously pounded her pussy. She can feel his balls slapping off her ass as he pounds into her. She couldn't believe how wonderful it was to fuck her brother. His cock just felt so right inside her. Continuing to pound fast and hard, her only reaction was to toss her head from side to side and moan from deep within.

Wrapping her legs around him, she flipped them over. This hot sister fucks her brother in the best way possible. She accomplishes this by riding that powerful cock of his. She was bouncing up and down, her body moving rhythmically as she took his cock deep inside her. She could feel her orgasm building. Knowing she wasn't going to last much longer, she went harder and faster on his cock. His hands gripped her hips, assisting her by meeting each thrust with another.

Her pussy started convulsing around his cock, and then her orgasm hit. As she was cumming on his cock, she kept riding him until she heard him grunt and then unload his seed inside her. The sensation of her brother's sperm in her pushed her even further. She felt it happen; he must have shot a gallon of cum in her pussy. It felt like she was never going to stop cumming. She realized she was moaning and gasping as she rapidly moved her hips to get the most pleasure. Fucking is a definite trait of mine, and once she starts, she can't stop. Finally, it ended, and she was lying on his sweat-covered chest. Both of them were panting and trying to catch our breath. He collapsed from exaltation on top of her, his dick still entangled in her tight cunt.

Adunbi and Osa looked at each other, coming to the realization that they had committed incest. She had fucked her brother. She'd never even thought about doing something like that, although there was an undercurrent of sexuality between them. She knew he was ogling her body, and while she didn't find it outrageous, she had seen what he was looking at. Not long after he fell asleep, she opened her eyes and smiled.

Early the next morning, they got dressed, her wearing his spare cloths. The break camp and headed back to the rondeau point where Mr. Roarke was waiting to take them back to the island.