You’ve all heard the joke about the shipwrecked man and his dog, right? If not, here’s the quick version: A man and his dog are shipwrecked on a tropical island. Over time, although they manage to survive, the man gets more and more horny. One day, he sees a herd of sheep, which puts the thought in his head that maybe he could have sex with one of the sheep. But every time he tries to approach the sheep, his dog barks and scares them off. Then one day, a beautiful woman washes ashore, and the man revives her. She looks up and him and asks him if there’s anything she can do to repay him. He replies, “Yeah, could you watch my dog for an hour.”

Now suppose it wasn’t just a joke…
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Sam was barking again. When we’d first washed up on the beach a month ago, I used to get nervous whenever he’d bark, but now it just annoyed me. “Shut up dammit!” I yelled into the darkness and tried to go back to sleep. But Sam wouldn’t stop barking, so I finally opened my eyes to see the sun peeking over the top of the waves to the east. Dawn on a desert island. How nice.

It may sound terribly romantic and adventurous, but I assure you it isn’t. I had no real desire to explore, even though I could tell the island was a large one. Any effort just made me hungry, and since breadfruit and coconuts are a poor substitute for meat, I tried not to exert myself unless I had to. Sam was insatiable, but he could catch his own food, and he never seemed to go hungry.

I shook myself awake and looked around for him. His barking was coming from farther off than I’d first thought; I couldn’t see him anywhere. I shrugged and went to my calendar tree, where I put another notch in the bark. Looking at the number of notches always made me depressed, but I did it every morning. Then I trudged off in search of Sam, because while his barking was annoying, he was my best friend and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.

I found him a hundred yards from our camp standing in the center of a grassy field in the outskirts of the forest. He was barking at something on the other side, but I couldn’t see what. For a brief instant I dared to hope that it might be someone else, maybe even a woman. I won’t deny that I missed other people and I missed women most of all. All it took these days to get me hard was two coconuts hanging together; I’d almost forgotten what actual breasts looked like.

As I got closer to Sam I was able to make out a number of animals in the shadows of the trees. They looked large, but they weren’t coming any closer so they didn’t seem dangerous. I put my hand on Sam’s flank and he turned and saw me and gave my hand a little lick. At least he stopped barking; the noise was just too much for my brain that early.

When I looked again, the animals had moved out of the shadows; I guess they were scared of Sam. With the sun full on them I saw that they were a herd of sheep, which seemed a little odd to me since I hadn’t seen people around and the sheep didn’t look abandoned. I gave them a long hard look, but they were just sheep, so I grabbed Sam by the collar and tugged until he followed me back to camp.

For the rest of the day my mind was on the sheep. At first I hoped that maybe they were a sign that there were natives on the island, but then I scolded myself for being foolish. They were probably wild sheep, with my luck. While I was getting my lunch together I even saw a flower that looked almost exactly like a vagina, but I couldn’t get my mind off the sheep. Ordinarily anything remotely sexual would have sent me back to the camp immediately for a quick session of pleasure, but while I got hard, it wasn’t because of the flower. It was because of the sheep.

I remembered stories I’d heard about cowboys in Montana using sheep to get off, and the more I thought about it, the more it tempted me. I was a little repulsed at my own reaction; after all, having sex with an animal? I wasn’t a pervert. But after all that time, the thought of anything other than my hand around my shaft was tempting indeed.

Finally, as the day wore on, I couldn’t stop myself. While Sam was out hunting whatever it was he hunted, I sneaked back to the glade to see if the herd was still there. I kept telling myself, “It’s okay, no big deal. They’ve probably moved on. I’m just checking. I’m not going to do anything.” Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending on how you look at it) the sheep were still there. They didn’t seem to mind me, as long as Sam wasn’t around. I came closer, but they acted like I was just another sheep. I could see the head of the flock, a ram, giving me a look, and then dismissing me as nothing important.

The rest of the flock were ewes, and to my sex-starved eyes they seemed beautiful even from a distance. Up close, they were warm and soft, even bumping into me occasionally as they moved around the field. “Okay, I’m just going to pet one, feel the wool,” I told myself. My clothes were in tatters, barely there, and it had been a long time since I’d touched anything soft. But as I petted a particularly friendly ewe, my manhood rose to full force faster than I’d ever seen it.

“I wonder what a sheep’s privates look like?” I asked out loud, to convince myself that I was only after knowledge. The ewe didn’t seem to mind as I petted my way down her back to her rump and slowly and carefully raised her tail. One glimpse of what was underneath made me crazy, and I realized that there was no going back. I was going to do it. I was going to have sex with a sheep. Her opening was dark, like her skin, but it looked almost human, although the wool was a new experience for me. I knelt behind her and gazed at her lips. I had no idea how big a sheep’s shaft was, so I didn’t know what to expect as far as tightness, but I figured that if cowboys in Montana did it, it couldn’t be that bad.

The ewe seemed to wiggle her rump a little as I took my fingers and gently began stroking her swollen opening. She moistened almost immediately, so I guessed a lot of foreplay probably wouldn’t be necessary. I doubted that rams went in for oral sex much anyway. After a few moments more of stroking her and pressing my fingers into her, I was almost cumming just from the tactile sensation. I had to penetrate her, even if only for a minute. My hardness would just have to fit; there was nothing else for it.

I rose and estimated distances in my head; it seemed like, if I squatted a little, it would be just like taking a woman from behind. The ewe’s tail was raised by itself now as I shucked my loin cloth and maneuvered myself until I was positioned just behind her soft woolly opening. I paused and took a deep breath. I was going to do it. Finally I would have the release I needed. My eyes closed and I tried to imagine that I was about to penetrate a woman, but no matter how I tried, all I could see in my mind’s eye was the ewe looking back at me with big soft eyes. I took a deep breath.

Then I heard barking and the flock scattered in a panic. Sam rushed into the field as I opened my eyes, barking his head off. “God Damn it Sam!” I almost screamed, then collapsed to my knees, my still-hard member bobbing in front of me as a grim reminder of what I’d nearly had. “I’m going to kill you!”

I turned, with murder in my eyes, oblivious now to my nakedness, and saw Sam staring up at me with happy eyes. Even though I tried hard, the second I saw those eyes, all my anger faded, to be replaced by a deeper loneliness. “Aw shit Sam, I can’t kill my best friend,” I said sadly to myself, patting him absently on the head and gathering my clothes together. It was nearly nightfall and I had to get back to camp before I got lost in the dark. “Come on boy,” I said as I walked and he trotted back in the direction of camp. I stared back for a moment over my shoulder and in the shadows I could swear I saw the ewe staring back at me with those big eyes. I sighed wistfully. “Come on, supper time.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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