Washed Ashore 2

For the next few days and nights I was on the lookout for the sheep, but it seemed that they’d vanished into the interior. Even though I was weak from hunger, I ventured farther and farther into the jungle, and though I hated to do it, I brought Sam along for protection. If there were sheep on the island then there might be more dangerous predators to hunt them. But every day I saw no sign of the flock and I grew more and more depressed.

Every night after we returned to camp, Sam would run off to do whatever it was he did and I would eat whatever fruit there was nearby and then settle down for the night. I tried hard not to, but every night, as soon as I was lying on my back, of its own volition my crotch surged to life and I got harder than I’d ever been before. I would fight it for a few minutes, but finally give in and begin slowly stroking myself, trying to picture one of the women I’d bedded in the past rocking on top of me.

The first night I managed to conjure up my first time, her hair cropped short, her breasts barely big enough to notice, her hips still thin as I saw her straddling my upthrust cock and then lowering herself onto it like she’d done so many times. I remembered how we used to fuck like rabbits after that first time, when we found out how fun it was. I came quickly that night, and I felt momentarily better. I almost convinced myself that I wouldn’t need to go looking for the flock the next day.

But the next day dawned and I searched. That night I tried to play back another pleasant memory in my mind as my hand moved up and down slowly but steadily, prolonging the pleasure. To my surprise, however, I couldn’t get any woman to come to mind, no matter how hard I tried. But I stayed hard and every moment made me need release more and more. Then I found myself thinking about the ewe, and as I pictured her soft wool-covered rump, I came instantly. I was shocked; even if I wanted to fuck a sheep, I just wanted it because I couldn’t get a woman. I didn’t really want to fuck a sheep.

I didn’t go looking for the flock the next day; I was scared of my thoughts. Instead I hunted down a soft-skinned melon, bored a hole in it, and heated it over the fire for a minute or two to get it nice and warm. If I wanted something warm and wet to fuck, I didn’t need a sheep. I would just use the melon and think about women and everything would be fine. I told myself all this and more as I pushed the warm melon into a mound of sand and began stroking myself into hardness again. I even let myself think about the ewe briefly, just to get started, then as I pushed into the warm fruit I tried hard to picture some woman, any woman, lying submissively beneath me on her hands and knees.

The fruit was good, and I almost felt like I was penetrating a cunt, and I started the enjoy myself. There was nothing to worry about. I just needed release, that was all. I kept thrusting into the fruit harder and harder, and in my mind I tried to see the girl beneath me. The curve of her buttocks as I pressed against them with every thrust. The soft moans I enjoyed so much. But without my conscious thought, the soft firmness of skin was replaced by the softness of wool. I could almost feel her tail pressed against my abs with every push. The moans became soft bleats, and soon, without realizing anything had changed, I was fucking the ewe.

I came once but stayed nearly hard and kept at it, completely giving in to the passion. When I came a second time I finally realized what was going on and slowed, my softening member slipping out of the fruit which was mashed and messy. With that, I knew. I needed to find that ewe, and not because I wanted a woman. I wanted a sheep, and though I felt slightly ashamed, I no longer felt that it was wrong.

The next day, as if God was listening to my prayers for sheep sex, the flock had returned to the glade. I nearly ripped my clothing to shreds in my haste, my cock bobbing up and down, hard the instant I saw the flock from a distance. And there she was, the beautiful ewe, her eyes still dark and tender, her flanks still shapely. I went toward her probably faster than I should have, but the sheep didn’t seem to care. The ewe turned once again to present her rump to me and her tail raised, giving me the sight I’d longed for. I knelt and stared at her soft brown lips, spread a little and already glistening with wetness.

In my awe I had completely forgotten about Sam. He came bounding into the glade again, and when the sound of the first bark hit my ears, my heart sank. I almost grabbed the ewe to keep her from running, so desperate was I, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Then the flock were gone, and I was alone, naked, my cock rapidly deflating.

For a minute I just sat there, staring off in the direction my ewe had gone, silent. Then something snapped. I screamed, rose, and ran off toward the ocean, naked and wild. Sam seemed scared to follow, so I ran alone through the jungle, breaking into the late afternoon sunlight and crashing to my knees again, wailing, throwing sand, tearing at my hair. Finally I collapsed face down on the sand, and I don’t know how long I lay there.

When I awoke, my back was burned from the sun, which had sunk down to the horizon. I raised my head, coming to my senses. In the pale evening light I could see the waves before me, no more than a stone’s throw away. Then I saw the darker mass of something lying on the shore. Too weak to stand, I crawled my way toward it. As I came closer, I could see that it was a body.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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