My First Time

Visiting Nick's Island

Listen Later
Visiting Nick's Island.
My best friend's teenage daughter wanted to go on
a boat ride. Things didn't go as planned.

Based on a post by Alaskan

Devil. Listen to the Podcast at My
First Time.



One of my favorite old-time TV shows is Gilligan's Island. Every

Saturday morning, I sit back in my Lay-Z-Boy recliner, sip on my
Bailey's and coffee, and watch the Bouncing Beauties Sitcom Power
Hour on my favorite YouTube channel, Classic Television Titties. The
channel is dedicated to classic TV shows with hot babes in skimpy
outfits, including two of the best-looking broads on the small
screen, Mary-Ann and Ginger.

Now for those of you that are too young to know about classic TV,

Gilligan's Island is about a group of idiots that get marooned on a
deserted Island. There's Gilligan, a mentally challenged man-boy
obviously on the spectrum. The Skipper, a grotesquely obese abuser
with a stupid hat. The Professor, an asexual nerdy science type. Mr.
Howell, a rich capitalist, presumably from Florida, and his annoying
wife Mrs. Howell (man, can I relate to annoying wives).

Lastly, there's Ginger and Mary-Ann. Ginger is a tall sexy redhead

actress with gravity defying dairy pillows, and Mary-Ann is a short
brunette girl-next-door type with two perky polo pumpkins who enjoys
making cream pies and baring her midriff.

There isn't a man alive who's seen the show and not bludgeoned the

beefsteak to one or both of these bodacious babes. I've definitely
spilled more seed thinking about Mary-Ann because she always seemed
like the biggest whore on the island, but I've pounded the pink pony
to Ginger a handful of times as well. Hell, I've even made the bald
man puke to Mrs. Howell once or twice, although I won't say I'm proud
of it.

One of my favorite pastimes is daydreaming about what it would be

like to be stranded on an island with one or two horny single women
with nothing to do other than drink from their coconuts and teach
them how to ride the bamboo golf cart.

It turns out that dreams sometimes come true.

It all started last June. My best friend from high school, Tony,

who lives in South Carolina, came to visit for a week. He was
accompanied by his wife, Penny and their nineteen-year-old daughter,
Lorna.

Penny and Tony are a bit more traditional than my wife, Margaret,

and I. Hell, I think they even go to church twice a week. Tony got
married pretty young and you could say his wife rules the roost.
While I maintained my dignity and my luscious full head of hair, Tony
sacrificed his manhood and lost most of his hair, probably because of
Penny's constant nagging and surly disposition.

Penny's fashion style is designed around destroying boners. I'm

surprised that Tony was able to keep his pocket mongoose hard for
long enough to deposit his seed in his wife's icy cooter cave, but
I'm not one to pry into a friend's personal business.

While Penny is no fan of my keen wit and often turns her nose up

when I make a funny, at least Tony somehow maintained his sense of
humor. I guess laughter is better than divorce when you have a kid.

Unfortunately, their daughter Lorna took after her mother. With a

perpetual scowl on her chubby face and baggy clothes, Lorna looks
like she's considering a career in virginity.

When they arrived at the house, we sat around the living room

catching up and watched the Miami Dolphins play the Dallas Cowboys.
At one point, the camera panned to one of the Dallas cheerleaders,
her pom poms shaking so hard it looked like they were about to spill
out all over the Astro-turf.

"Holy hell, Tony," I said, "Will you look at those

Julius Squeezers! Now there's a tight end I'd like to blitz!"

My wife punched me in the shoulder. Tony laughed but Penny looked

disgusted. Lorna lifted her head out of her phone for a split-second
with a stupid look on her face like she was trying to make sense out
of a Kanye West tweet.

When Tony and his family visit, I take them out fishing in my

boat. Tony and Penny enjoy fishing for some reason. Fishing for me is
all about drinking beer and checking out bikini-clad bombshells
hanging out in the marina, where I'm a bit of a legend for my charm
and good looks. Most men in their 40s are well past their prime but
it's obvious to all the lonely housewives that I'm just getting
started.

Our fishing trip was planned for Saturday morning. When I got home

from work on Friday, everyone was out of the house, so I took
advantage of the quiet to participate in a game of tug-of-war with
cyclops.

My jerkin' Jurgens was in the upstairs bathroom. When I went to

retrieve it, I noticed a phone sitting by the commode. Unsure whether
it was Margaret's or one of the guests, I picked it up, surprised
that it was already on and unlocked.

I figured the quickest way to find out who it belonged to was to

open the photos. Much to my surprise, the pictures were all of Lorna.
There was an album entitled, "Florida trip," so I opened
it.

The photos were taken from my upstairs guest bedroom. The first

few were of Lorna dressed in a tight-fitting tank top and black lacy
panties. The photos were shocking but not because they were
particularly racy. I was shocked because my best friend's frumpy
teenage daughter actually looked sexy.

Lorna's face was definitely hinting of chubby, but in a teenage

baby fat kind of way. She was average height but curvy, with thick
thighs and a plump ass that spilled out of her underwear. Lorna's big
brown eyes, long ash-blonde hair, and full lips were standard fare
for a teenager. Most surprising was her ridiculously massive milk
melons that seemed to defy the physical limitations of a cotton tank
top.

Fuck me in the ass, I thought to myself. If only I

could see Lorna's shirt potatoes after they're peeled!

A few swipes later, my dreams came true. In the photo, Lorna has

her top lifted above the biggest pair of pontoons I've ever laid eyes
on. I'm not even sure there is an official bra size for blouse
balloons of such magnitude. I began to wonder whether NASA had
categorized the gravitational pull of Lorna's twin mammary moons.

No wonder she wears baggy clothes!

The more photos I scrolled through, the better they got.

Apparently, Lorna was exploring her naughty side because there were
photos of her totally nude and even spreading her pussy, which was
plump and meaty like the rest of her body. She wasn't overweight, She
just had a classic Dutch 'big boned' body. Adding the more recent
infusion of massive female hormones, and you get a young buxom
wonderland that can entertain a man's interest better the best
amusement park can delight a crumb-cruncher.

Then I saw a thumbnail for a video.

It started with her talking to the camera as though it were an

audience.

"I have to be quiet because I'm on vacation with my family

and they're in another room."

Lorna then proceeds to get totally naked, spread her legs, and

fuck herself with a massive dildo while pinching her nipples and
playing with her milk mountains. Watching a giant penis-shaped hunk
of silicone slide in and out of Lorna's tiny teenage honey bucket
made my jackhammer hard enough to pulverize concrete.

After whipping it out, I sat on the toilet and practiced the

five-finger shuffle while watching Lorna's entire video. It became
obvious to me that she had some kind of video channel where she
performed for monetary donations. She even mentioned some of the
online audience members by name.

The crescendo of the video showed Lorna on all fours, her

chesticles hanging down almost to the bed, swaying with every thrust
of her hips as she fucked a dildo with a suction cup that was
attached to the headboard.

I came so hard, I thought my splooge was going to reach terminal

velocity and escape Earth's gravitational pecker pull.

Just as my banana batter began running down the shower curtain,

there was a knock at the door.

Fuck me in the ass!

It seemed as though someone else was at home, and I had a pretty

good idea who it was.

I answered the knock with, "Who is it?" while stuffing

my trim tickler back into my pants and clumsily trying to wipe my man
smoothie off the shower curtain.

"It's Lorna. I think I left my phone in there."

I couldn't be sure if Lorna had heard me playing the video. It

wasn't loud but Florida homes aren't known for their high-quality
construction standards and the walls were thinner than Kiera Knightly
in a corset.

"Oh yeah, I see it. Hold on a sec while I finish freshening

up."

Upon exiting the bathroom, Lorna was waiting in the hallway.

Handing her the phone, I couldn't help but try to make out the
slightest hint of her mommy melons poking and pressing against her
oversized sweatshirt.





Alas, my effort was to no avail. Lorna took her phone and

scampered off to her bedroom, presumably to play a one-string melody
on her gash guitar for her adoring fans.

Being honest, and I always am, the thought of chubby little Lorna

tickling her taco in my guest bedroom made me hornier than a lonely
housewife at a high school football game.

Live and let live is my motto. If the girl wants to earn some cash

by showing off her goodies, more power to her. There are far worse
ways to make a living. Just ask anyone working at IKEA.

That night I was lying in bed watching a rerun of The Love Boat on

TV. It was an episode with Charo dancing around like she found a
brick of cocaine in her balcony suite. The sight of her Twin Peaks
bouncing around like two overfilled water balloons reminded me of
Lorna's video and made my Undercover Brother harder than sitting
through an episode of Friends.

Of course, my wife noticed. Pointing at the tent pole under the

comforter, Margaret said, "Oh wow, Nick, you must be thinking
back to our wedding day! Do you want to use that thing or are you
going to rub one out to this week's celebrity guest?"

"Charo isn't my type but at least I can turn off the TV when

I don't want to hear her talk."

Margaret wrapped her hand around Long Dong Silver and said, "Oh,

come on, Nick. Stick it in me and pretend you're on the Love Boat
shoving your dinghy into Cruise Director Julie's lifeboat."

"It sounds more like a ride on the Titanic."

But, like the Titanic, there was nothing I could do to stop my

veiny vessel from crashing into my wife's iceberg. Little did she
know that I wasn't thinking about Julie, Daisy Duke, Mary-Ann or any
other classic TV gash. While my white whale was destroying my wife's
pleasure boat, my fantasy revolved around sticking my sea cucumber in
between Lorna's Little Mermaids.

Saturday rolled around and everyone was in the living room ready

to head to the marina for a day of fishing. Everyone except Lorna.
Her parents said she likely didn't want to go and suggested we leave
without her.

"She's probably got her face buried in that phone again,"

said her mother, with a look on her face that reminded me of someone
sitting on the toilet after eating bad Mexican food.

I assumed she was doing another one of her shows, so I shrugged,

and we left.

Tony, Penny, and my wife; caught a bunch of fish while I sipped on

beer and spied on a hot little number, tanning topless on the deck of
another boat anchored right next to ours.

Margaret caught me eyeballing the young woman's flesh bobbers

through a pair of binoculars and said, "Jesus fucking Christ,
Nick, you came all the way out here in the Gulf, to perv on
unsuspecting sunbathers?"

"Can you shut the fuck up? I'm appreciating nature; Plus,

you're going to scare the fish."

Tony laughed but Penny looked even more disgusted than normal,

which slightly improved her looks.

When we arrived back at my house, Lorna was waiting in the living

room. It was obvious she'd been crying. When her mother asked what
the matter was, all hell broke loose.

We quickly learned that Lorna walked down the stairs mere minutes

after we left, ready to enjoy a sunny day on the water.

After some noise, she started crying again and said to her

parents, "You left without me! You don't even want me around!"

Fuck me in the ass! The only person allowed to cry in this

house is my wife!

Stepping in, I said, "This is all my fault. Lorna, I tell you

what, I'll take you out on the boat tomorrow morning to make it up to
you. We can all go together to make up for today."

My quick thinking did the trick and seemed to placate Lorna. Tony

thanked me later and said, "She's been very sensitive ever since
her cat, Puss Puss died."

I didn't have the heart to tell my best friend that his daughter's

puss puss was far from dead!

The next morning, Margaret wanted to sleep in, so she backed out

of the fishing trip. Lorna was ready to go by nine, but Tony came
downstairs still dressed in his pajamas and said he and Penny had the
shits and wouldn't be able to go.

Tony said, "Penny and I ate some ice cream out of your fridge

last night and we think it may be bad."

I said, "Fuck me in the ass, Tony! That ice cream has been in

there since George W was president! Turns out, neither Margaret nor I
like pistachio or stupid world leaders."

Just saying the word pistachio made Tony reach for his asshole and

run back up the stairs.

I turned to Lorna and said, "Well, it's you and me, kid. If

you still wanna go?"

Lorna smiled and said, "Absolutely!"

It was the first time I'd seen her smile. I'd seen her plunge a

dildo into her vertical smile a few hundred times but had never seen
the face-forward version.

As we motored out of the Marina, Lorna said she didn't care about

fishing and wondered if I knew any places we could explore.

I said, "A woman after my own heart! I would rather get a

root canal than handle a pole all day. Let's tool around for an hour
or two and see where fate takes us."

Lorna smiled yet again and I had to admit that the young girl was

starting to grow on me. When she took off her sweatshirt and
sweatpants to reveal the tiny bikini underneath, my one-eyed wonder
worm also started to grow on me.

Lorna's sand dollars were so massive, her bikini top was barely

able to cover her nipples and areola. My jaw immediately came
unhinged from my face and fell to the floor as my tongue unrolled and
foghorn sounds echoed through the humid Florida air.

Her tight bikini bottoms outlined a camel toe that would have

caused Ali Babba to become a flying carpet muncher. Her G-string
bikini bottoms were entirely enveloped by Lorna's substantial white
ass. Every step she took walking around the cabin made her butt
cheeks jiggle like that Jell-O dessert everyone avoids at Christmas
dinner.

"Holy hell, Lorna, are you sure you're not overdressed?"

Lorna giggled, obviously accustomed to her body getting attention,

online at least.

"I don't get to wear bikinis at home. My mother won't let me.

I'm glad my parents didn't come because now I won't have to be hot
all day."

Nodding in approval, I said, "Well, you do you, honey. But in

that outfit, you're definitely going to be hot all day." Then I
pulled a beer out of my cooler and cracked it open.

Reaching it out to Lorna, I said, "Do you want a beer?"

"I'm not twenty-one."

"And I'm not a cop. Plus, I think these are international

waters now. We can go nuts."

Lorna smiled, grabbed the beer out of my hand, and took a sip.

After running for couple hours, I anchored in seventy feet of

water about twenty miles offshore. Within a half hour, it was so hot
I thought my balls were going to audition for the Swamp Thing reboot.
Lorna was lying face up on the bow of the boat wearing a pair of
sunglasses.

I suggested we go swimming and Lorna jumped in the water without

hesitation. We swam around for a while when I noticed the sky was
turning dark. I'd been so focused on my best friend's daughter's
buoyant blubber bouncers that I'd stopped paying attention to the
clouds that had been forming on the horizon.

By the time we were back in the boat, the weather started getting

rough. There was a massive thundercloud rapidly heading toward us and
lightning was starting to pop around the boat.

There was no way we could get back to the marina before the storm

hit so I aimed the bow at a small island about two miles to the east
and pushed hard on the throttle.

We were heading in the same direction as the wind, which caused

the boat to launch off the backside of the waves. Lorna was standing
right next to me, her tits bouncing so hard that they fell entirely
out of her bikini top. She was using both hands to keep steady, so
there was no way she could stuff them back in or cover them up.

Fuck me in the ass! Thank you, Jesus!

The air had cooled considerably because of the storm and Lorna's

wet nipples were rock-hard. Usually, massive marangos come adorned
with tiny nipples but Lorna's high beams were just as brilliant as
her headlights.

Mesmerized by the most deliciously decadent pair of teenage

torpedoes I'd ever seen with my naked eyes, the log in my pants
started to grow. Unfortunately, the teenage triple-D distraction to
my left prevented me from seeing see the real-life log in the water.

There was a hard thump against the hull and the engine suddenly

stopped. My tiny ship was tossed and began bobbing in the waves. When
my boat started listing to port, I knew we were in trouble. Before I
could radio for help or grab either of our phones, the entire console
was underwater.





Rain started coming down in sheets. Fortunately, the island was

only a little more than a hundred yards away.

Tossing Lorna a life preserver, I said, "Well, we are going

to have to swim for the island. Are you a good swimmer?"

Lorna, who didn't seem worried at all said, "I was on my high

school girls swim team."

By the time we reached the island my boat was gone, and all that

was left was some flotsam floating in the water. Fortunately, I had
good insurance. The rain was still coming down pretty hard but clear
skies were on the horizon.

Lorna and I sat under a stand of palm trees. Her bikini top met

the same fate as my boat. Lorna had her arms wrapped around herself
to keep warm, but she was still shivering. Had I been wearing a
shirt, I would have offered it to her.

It suddenly dawned on me that nobody knew where we were. Still, I

figured we would be able to wave down a passing boat and get a ride
back to the marina once the weather improved.

Being the gentleman I am, I said, "You okay, Lorna? That was

quite an adventure."

Lorna half smiled and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little

cold is all."

I took a quick look around to see if there was anything that could

be of use. It didn't take long because the entire island was no
bigger than a football field.

Fortunately, she brought along two
fleshy floatation devices.

Fuck me in the ass! No phone, no lights, no motorcar. Not a

single luxury!

All I managed to find was an old rusty crab trap, a shoe, and some

broken beer bottles. Walking back toward Lorna, I spotted the butt
end of a lighter poking out of a pile of seaweed. Shockingly, it
worked, even though the metal parts were a bit rusty.

The rain stopped, and after gathering some driftwood, I made a

small fire on the beach to keep warm. Lorna thanked me profusely, but
I should have thanked her because she stretched out her arms to warm
her hands, which meant her magnificent coconuts were back on full
display.

We struck up a conversation and Lorna told me about her

domineering mother and how she wouldn't let her move out into a dorm
because Peggy was afraid her daughter would make "poor life
choices."

She added, "My mother doesn't know a lot of things about me."

I said, "Look, I'm not the best guy to give a teenager advice

but you need to move out and start living your own life. Your mom may
say she has it all figured out but none of us adults have any idea
what we're fucking doing."

It was the closest I'd ever come to being philosophical.

About an hour later, I noticed my cooler floating in the ocean

only 50 feet from shore. I swam out to retrieve it. We shared a Cuban
sandwich and drank a couple bottles of water before I cracked open
two beers and toasted to good luck, which made Lorna laugh.

Even though the rain didn't return, the waves never settled down.

When the sun started to set, I said, "They're probably just
getting around to calling the cops to report that we're missing. That
means we're likely stranded on this pile of sand until morning."

To her credit, Lorna didn't seem upset or concerned in the least

bit. I guess when your life sucks ass, anything is better than being
home, even if you're stranded on an island with an attractive older
man that could be your father.

When it was dark, Lorna's young body was lit by nothing more than

the firelight; every curve of her glorious body highlighted with an
orange glow. If she hadn't been my best friend's daughter, I would
have done everything possible to drop my man-pole into her honey
hole.

After handing Lorna another beer, I had to ask, "You ever see

Gilligan's Island?"

"No. What's that?"

"It's a classic TV show. Seven dumb-asses get marooned on a

deserted island and have to figure out how to live. They make bamboo
cars and bamboo washing machines and bamboo record players, and
bamboo radios! You get the idea."

Lorna laughed, "It sounds silly."

"Oh, it's silly as fuck. You kind of remind me of Mary-Ann.

She's a young farm girl with big brown eyes."

"Nick, can I ask you something?"

Assuming Lorna was going to ask me for more of my philosophical

wisdom, I said, "Sure! Ask me anything!"

"Did you watch the video on my phone?"

I'm not one to beat around the bush unless I'm literally beating

off on a broad's bush. Totally busted, I said, "Yeah, I watched
it. In my defense, I was trying to figure out whose phone it was, and
it was unlocked, but I watched the entire video and loved every
fucking second of it."

My praise made Lorna smile. She said, "I have an OnlyFans

account. It lets me earn some spending money, but I actually enjoy
it. When I put on a show, it makes me feel free... And attractive.
You aren't going to tell my dad, are you?"

"Never, doll. Your secret is safe with good Ol' Nick. If you

weren't Tony's daughter, and I knew what an only-fans was, I would
watch every one of your performances."

Lorna looked at me innocently with her big brown eyes, her naked

tits hanging free, and said, "Were you masturbating while you
watched it?"

"Damn right I was! I dare any man to set eyes on your bongos

and try to not touch his drumstick."

Lorna sat up straight and twisted her torso back and forth,

causing her massive mushmallows to sway back and forth like a drunk
stockbroker trying to insert his key in the car door. Giggling, she
said, "You mean these?"

My baloney pony was trying to break out of its corral.

Lorna continued, "I used to hate them. I thought they were

dirty because my mom always made me hide them. Doing my OnlyFans'
shows made me fall in love with them. Now I like showing them off."

"Well, I may not be your only fan, but I am your biggest

fucking fan."

Lorna thought for a second and said, "Do you want me to put

on a private show for you?"

Fuck me in the ass! Now I know why Gilligan always fucked the

castaway's rescue plan!

I said, "You mean right now?"

Leaning back and spreading her legs, Lorna said, "Do you have

anywhere else to be?"

Pulling off my swim trunks, I said, "Nope!" Then I

grabbed Free Willy with my hand and got ready for the show.

Lorna said, "Oh wow, Nick, your cock is really thick."

She pulled off her panties, the firelight exposing the luscious

creases of her teenage lady garden and started rubbing the nub with
the tip of her index finger. A mischievous grin formed on Lorna's
face, and she spread her flower flaps wide open with two fingers
before shoving them deep inside her coin purse, like she was
searching for loose change under the couch cushions.

Other than some sand in my ass crack, it was the best thing to

happen to me since this Russian dancer at the Stinky Pinky strip club
gave me a handy in the VIP room and didn't get mad when my KGBoner
launched Spunknik onto her best pair of leather boots.

Lorna was getting into it. She threw her head back and cried out

into the night air like a feral cat in heat. When she brought her
head forward, her eyes were locked onto my cock.

I decided to put on my own show. After teasing the fireman's

helmet, I worked my shaft in long strokes to highlight my rigid seven
inches and impressive girth.

Lorna bit her lower lip and said, "I've never seen one in

real life."

The words hit me like a sledgehammer.

"Fuck me in the ass! You're a virgin?"

Still softening her peach, Lorna said, "Well, I guess I am,

but I've used a dildo a bunch of times."

"Well, let me tell you honey, you're considered a virgin

until you've had the real thing."





I've plowed a lot of fields in my lifetime, but I've only ever

planted salami seeds in one virgin's family farm. I was in high
school, and her name was Mary Muffin-top. She was a Catholic girl who
asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance because a friend of hers told
Mary that I had a big dick. We got hot and heavy in the back of my
Chevy and Mary told me she wanted me to be the one.

Never having been one to pass on a chance to go clam digging, I

made sure Mary had the night of her life. Her meat sleeve was tighter
than a pair of Jennifer Lopez's yoga pants. Best of all, she
renounced her faith and ended up doing a few gang-bang pornos that I
still flog the dolphin to from time to time.

The prospect of introducing another virgin to the carnal delights

of raunchy fuck-fun made me hornier than Donald Trump in his
daughter's bedroom.

Batting her big brown eyes at me, Lorna said, "It's going to

get cool tonight. Maybe we should share our body warmth."

Without hesitation, I said, "Yeah, we don't want to get

hypothermia or anything."

After gathering a bunch of palm fronds and laying them out on the

sand, I sat down with my legs spread apart. Lorna sat with her back
against my chest, our bodies pressed together. Her skin was like
fire. Then she took my hands and placed them on her beanbags.

Whoever said "more than a handful is a waste" is a

stupid fuck. I played with Lorna's titties like I'd just unwrapped a
Lionel train set on Christmas morning. Lorna continued to polish her
pearl, leaning her head back onto my shoulder and purring like a
kitten.

She took my hand in hers and brought it down to her sausage

snuggie. It was hotter than fire and wetter than water. Pinching
Lorna's nipple with one hand, I used the fingers of my other hand to
explore her briny deep for sunken treasure. When she moaned, I stuck
them in Lorna's mouth and made her taste her own juices. Then I had a
taste for good measure and went back to work.

Whispering in her ear, I said, "By the time we're rescued,

I'm going to own this pussy."

Lorna shuddered. I edged her close to orgasm a few times before

stopping entirely until she was literally whimpering like a spoiled
girl whose daddy cut off her allowance.

Lorna rotated her entire body until she was facing me with our

legs wrapped around one another, her tits pressing against my chest,
my cock twitching against her cunny.

We kissed, lips locked together, our tongues twisted like they

were auditioning for Dancing with the Stars. For someone that hadn't
kissed many boys, Lorna was surprisingly good at it.

After three periods of tonsil hockey. I lifted one of Lorna's

sweatshirt shakers and sucked on her nipple like my mouth was an
overworked bilge pump. It was like being in heaven but better because
I hate harp music.

While I pinched and twisted one nipple with my fingers, I used my

lips and tongue to tease the other. Lorna responded with a series of
purrs and grunts, her hands grabbing fistfuls of my luscious hair,
her body jerking and shaking with every new sensation.

Then something truly amazing happened. Lorna bit down on my neck

as her entire body started to vibrate like Michael J. Fox giving an
Oscar speech. Her whimpering suddenly changed into a violent scream,
and it was so loud, I was sure they heard it in Cuba.

As her orgasm waned, Lorna said, "Oh wow. That's a first. I

didn't even know it was possible to cum that way."

I answered, "It's all about the foreplay, doll. If your

partner doesn't worship these perfect titties, you need to find
another lover."

Lorna was filled with lust and her eyes were boring into mine. Her

hips were slowly thrusting back and forth, her slippery slit rubbing
against the length of my shaft.

She said, "I want to feel it inside me."

In that moment, I had second thoughts. Taking my best friend's

daughter's virginity suddenly seemed like a bridge too far.
Certainly, she would be better off finding a boy her own age and
discovering the joys of lovemaking organically.

And if you believe that, I have a Florida bridge I'm trying to

sell!

I grabbed Lorna's ass like my life depended on it and lifted her

onto my lap, the underside of my pecker pressing firmly against her
teenage puff pillow. With total control, I let the head slip inside
and slowly worked her body back and forth with my hands until my
entire seven inches was firmly buried inside her tight virgin squish
mitten.

When I first penetrated her, Lorna gasped to catch her breath.

Even though she'd had a number of sex toys inside her taffy puller,
it still clenched down like a velvet vice grip around my man-meat.
Her body felt the same from the inside as it did the outside –
plush, ripe, and decadent.

Once I was entirely enveloped by her dick sharpener, I held

Lorna's body entirely still, rhythmically flexing my cock until her
hungry cunt started squeezing back.

Fuck me in the ass! Virgin pussy on a deserted island! Suck

it, Gilligan!

Still staring into my eyes, Lorna said, "It hurt a little at

first, but this feels incredible."

Maintaining the same pace to make sure Lorna had time to get used

to my thick cock made out of real human flesh, I once again used my
mouth to play with her nipples. The effect was almost immediate, but
her orgasm was even stronger.

My manhood shot out of Lorna's penis penitentiary like it had been

fired from a Howitzer, along with copious amounts of fuck fluid that
made me wonder if I'd breached her dame dam.

Gasping for air, her chest heaving, Lorna said, "Fuck! I've

squirted before because my fans like it, but it's never been anywhere
near that intense."

Pushing Lorna down onto her back, I said, "You ain't seen

nothing yet."

Pushing my middle leg back inside Lorna's chocha was easy because

she was wetter than an umbrella during a hurricane. For a while, I
slid the entire length of my dick in and out of her body, savoring
the exquisite comfort of her young tight pussy.

Then I started fucking her. Holding Lorna's legs apart with my

hands against the back of her knees, I pressed my magic stick firmly
inside her fun tunnel, pounding my hips into hers until her moaning
started to sound like begging.

Shifting my body slightly downward so my cock massaged her g-spot,

I used my thumb to polish Lorna's pearl while the other hand firmly
pinched her nipple. Every time she was about to cum, I stopped
entirely, which made her eyes open wide, begging me to start again.

After the third time edging her to the point of no return, her

non-vocal begging became audible pleading. She said, "Oh god,
Nick, please let me cum!"

I've never been one to deny a woman her fair share of the fun, so

I made Lorna's teenage dreams come true and gave her the best orgasm
of her life.

I've had a front row seat for countless female orgasms in my life

but watching Lorna lose all control, her baby fat jiggling as every
wave of pleasure rippled through her curvaceous body was the stuff of
legend. Yet again, my purple-headed cobra blasted out of her birth
basket at high velocity, along with enough liquid to flood most
coastal cities in America.

Having performed my deflowering duty with due diligence, I did

what any self-respecting man would have done and shoved my cock right
in between Lorna's teenage twangers. Like a good girl, she pressed
her tidbits together and watched with amazement as I fucked them with
wild abandon, my cock head appearing and disappearing over and over
in the crease of her magnificent cleavage.

Now, my urge was to fuck Lorna's titties until I sprayed man sauce

all over her chubby cheeks. However, I know a young girl's first time
is supposed to be special, so before I came, I slid back down between
her legs and stuck my untamed monkey back inside of Lorna's organ
grinder.

With Mr. Happy's head pressed firmly against her cervix, I looked

into Lorna's eyes and said, "How does it feel?"

Her chest heaving, Lorna said, "It's different than I thought

it would be! Better! Way better. Are you going to cum in me?"

"I am."

"Okay."

My orgasm was so powerful, the energy could have been used to

supply Houston with electricity for three years. Every burst of love
liquor blasting into Lorna's cervix at terminal velocity made her
entire body jerk like she was practicing interpretive dance.

Our eyes remained focused on one another long after my waves of

orgasm had ebbed. It was fucking hot, and when my cock stayed hard, I
knew my work wouldn't be done until the rescue boat arrived.

After a night spent spilling more seed than a grass farmer, we

were finally rescued by a couple of boys in blue working with the
Marine Patrol. They were surprised we were in such good spirits and
even more surprised by the sight of Lorna's kalamazoos before they
covered her with a blanket and gave her a large sweatshirt to wear.





Even better, back at the marina we were welcomed ashore by the

people that love us the most.

Wrapping her arms around me, Margaret said, "Nick, I thought

I'd lost you but don't worry. I didn't plan on dating again until at
least next Wednesday. By the way, is your life insurance payment up
to date?"

Fuck me in the ass! It's good to be loved!

Tony and Penny were so happy to see their daughter, that Penny

actually smiled. It was the most hideous thing I'd seen since
Margaret's mother's teeth fell out into the mashed potatoes during
Easter dinner.

When vacation time was over, Lorna gave me a big hug and slipped a

note into my pocket as she left the house. It was a website link to
her OnlyFans account. A few days later, I logged in and caught the
tail of end of a broadcast where Lorna was making herself cum by
playing with her nipples.

In that moment, I felt a great sense of pride knowing that I

empowered this young girl to blossom into a horny woman willing to
explore innovative ways to get off - and make a few dollars while
doing it.

Ladies, why give it away for free to some dumb fuck that's going

to treat you like shit when you turn it into a viable business model
and have total control over your orgasms? If you need business
advice, feel free to send Nick a photo or video and I'll help you get
started. If you're lucky, maybe I'll take you on a boat ride to my
favorite Florida island.

Later that night, I was watching a rerun of Gilligan's Island. It

was the episode where the castaways hold a beauty competition. In the
episode, Mary-Ann wears a swimsuit and goes swimming in the lagoon
while Gilligan is fishing. Fortunately for the viewer, Gilligan hooks
Mary-Ann's swimsuit and rips it off. Then later in the show, she's
wearing a full-on bikini top during the beauty contest.

As I watched Mary-Ann's garbos jiggle and wiggle, my ball-sack and

missile positioned itself for launch. Yet, all I could do was
reminisce back to my own shipwreck experience on a deserted island
and call up the mental image of my pleasure pump nestled comfortably
in between Lorna's two oversized pumpernickel loaves.

Margaret noticed my bulging member and said, "Jesus fucking

Christ, Nick, every time you watch Gilligan's Islands you get a
hard-on for that farm-girl whore. What's the matter with you?"

"Watching this show makes me appreciate silence and solitude,

something I never get around here."

Unable to resist my swollen member, my wife started playing with

it.

She said, "Maybe I can put this to use. What did you and

Lorna talk about when you were stranded on that island?"

"Lorna said she's considering a career in modeling."

Margaret said, "Isn't she a little chubby to be a model?"

Pushing my wife's head toward my tonsil tickler, hoping it would

take up the space occupied by her voice, I said, "You shouldn't
body shame, Margaret. For fuck's sake, go and listen to some Lizzo or
something."

Margaret rolled her eyes and got down to business. After sucking

me for all of a minute, she rode me reverse cowgirl so she could
fantasize about the pool boy, which was fine by me because my mind
was still back on the island.

I'd been wrong about Lorna, and it taught me lesson: “Never

trust a first impression.” Make that two lessons - if you're
ever stranded on a deserted island with a nubile young virgin
teenager; eager to learn about the sexual arts, be like Gilligan and
do everything you can to prevent being rescued.

Based on a post by Alaskan

Devil, for Lush Stories.

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My First TimeBy (various)