Gulliver set sail in wonderful weather. His plan was to have an adventure
unlike
any that his fellow sailors had experienced. They always returned from their
sailing
expeditions with tales of meeting lovely ladies in port and enjoying the
pleasures of
at the various inns they visited. Gulliver wanted more. He wanted to experience
days
of endless lovemaking with an entire harem of women. He needed to come
back from
this sailing trip with a story to top all those he knew his friends had
invented.
As the days went by, Gulliver hadn't even passed another ship, let alone
an island port.
He began to feel sorry for himself - thinking that he'd never have an adventure
worthy
of bragging about when he returned home. On his 18th day at sea, he spotted
a small
island off in the distance. Knowing he needed to replenish his water and
look for fresh
fruit, he turned his boat toward the island and opened the sails.
In no time at all, he was within sight of palm and fruit trees growing in
abundance.
He knew he'd made a wise decision in heading toward this island. He could
smell the
fragrance of the fruit blossoms. It was a heady sweetness and he felt overpowered
by
the desire to lie down on the deck. In the back of his mind, he knew he
should find a
protected cove in which to anchor his ship, but all he could do was lie
down and close
his eyes.
Some time later, Gulliver began to wake up. He could barely open his eyes,
but he felt
featherlight touches all over his body. He could sense that there was nothing
to fear,
as the touching was not at all painful, but quite pleasant. It felt like
there were a
hundred tiny tongues and hands touching and licking his skin. Fingers pulling
at his nipples,
entire bodies rubbing against his erect and throbbing penis. He knew he
felt nipples
rubbing against his penis - tiny rock-hard nipples rubbing up and down the
length.
As he concentrated, he could detect nibbling on his balls. Little hands
rubbing and twirling
in the hairs and lips nibbling at the skin. He was delirious. All these
sensations at once!
How could this be? And why couldn't he open his eyes?
He felt soft, slick-wet skin sliding across one nipple. The nipple, itself,
would slide
up into the wetness and back out again. He opened his mouth slightly, to
better breathe
and felt something wet slide across it. The taste was heavenly and he let
his tongue
stay just past his lips in hopes of tasting more. His action was rewarded
with more of
the sweet nectar.
Gulliver tried to concentrate even more. He could detect what sounded like
tiny voices
moaning in pleasure. He had never heard such sweet voices but he knew they
were
enjoying their erotic task. He could tell that their sole purpose was to
arouse
and satisfy his every erotic need. He lay still for what seemed like days
as the tiny
figures crawled over him and explored and tasted his body. He lost count
of the number of
times they brought him to orgasm. All he could remember was the flurry
of activity
and the sensation of hundreds of tongues all over his chest and stomach.
It seemed that
these tiny figures thrived on his nectar just as he was thriving on theirs.
He had
an endless supply of sweet wet bodies sliding over his tongue. Whenever
he felt thirsty
they were quick to supply him with as much of their nectar as he required
to satisfy his
thirst.
Eventually, he was able to open his eyes and feast upon the view of what
was happening to
his aroused body. There were hundreds of tiny women crawling over his body
and constantly
touching or licking or rubbing against him. This was keeping his penis
in an ever
ready erection. He loved the feelings. There were nipples rubbing up and
down the length
of his penis, slick-wet pussies sliding across his hard nipples and riding
his tongue
until he drank their orgasmic nectar. Whenever his penis exploded in orgasm,
they
scurried to lick up his juices and clean his body. They rubbed themselves
in it and
licked each other to orgasmic frenzies, as well. It was a joy to watch
and Gulliver
hoped he would never have to leave.
He no longer cared if he would have a story to tell his fellow sailors.
This was
one story and one small island he wanted to keep to himself.
