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dramamine213
Star
- Joined
- Jul 5, 2009
The soft, soothing hushing of the ocean graced her eardrums. Gentle were the waves that lapped at her bare feet. The lukewarm water coated her sandy ankles, making her sink ever so slightly into the pristine beach. Laying there, only breathing, she took a moment to catch her breath. Several moments later, she opened her eyes as they registered it was daylight, but she was shaded.
Joan slowly peeled her husky frame from the soft near-white sand. Blinking a few times, she turned her dark brown eyes to the teal waves that had belched her on shore. After a few seconds, the whole ordeal came rushing back. As she focused on a piece of boat wreckage.
Alex had suggested that she and their friends, Travis and Michelle, go with them on a trip on his yacht. It was a surprise for her to get out into international waters and have their fun. Lots of drinking, fucking, smoking pot and fishing. It had been a ball until Alex realized he had miscalculated how much fuel this trip would require.
After a week afloat, things had gotten pretty tense. Everyone was ready to kill each other. Food was really scarce and all they had was liquor to drink. Poor planning had made this a pretty miserable lesson. One that none of them would ever forget. And then the storm came.
Thunder and lightning what mostly filed Joan's memory. The boat had capsized, tossing their meager belonging to the whims of the waves, not to mention their bodies. The sensation of drowning had overcome Joan; it had left her melancholy and ready to die. To her surprise, and gobs of regret, she was glad to have awoken in a pleasant place. Or so it seemed.
Joan made it to her feet, but quickly realized something was wrong. Her ears were muddy and she was terribly dizzy. Common sense told her she suffered a knock on the head and Swimmer's Ear. Steadying herself, she clamored over to the ship debris to see if there was anything salvageable, notably her cell phone.
Dismayed that she found Michelle's bag, that skank, she opened it finding some of her clothing. Well, you might call it that, but Joan's heavy set body was not really complimented by much smaller t-shirts. Thank the gods there was a pair of stretchy shorts, but sadly, they sparsely covered Joan's rear. Her bikini bottom hung over the top waist band while her buttocks poked precariously from the bottom hem.
The tropic jungle hadn't been much of anything to pay attention to. Joan figured her companions would be littered about the beach, looking for her and/or each other. Sitting in a curved recess in the wrecked yacht's hull, Joan waited calmly, listening to her stomach grumble. With her head hurting now, she closed her eyes, trying to get actual rest as best she could. The soothing ocean put her at ease and right off to sleep.
Joan slowly peeled her husky frame from the soft near-white sand. Blinking a few times, she turned her dark brown eyes to the teal waves that had belched her on shore. After a few seconds, the whole ordeal came rushing back. As she focused on a piece of boat wreckage.
Alex had suggested that she and their friends, Travis and Michelle, go with them on a trip on his yacht. It was a surprise for her to get out into international waters and have their fun. Lots of drinking, fucking, smoking pot and fishing. It had been a ball until Alex realized he had miscalculated how much fuel this trip would require.
After a week afloat, things had gotten pretty tense. Everyone was ready to kill each other. Food was really scarce and all they had was liquor to drink. Poor planning had made this a pretty miserable lesson. One that none of them would ever forget. And then the storm came.
Thunder and lightning what mostly filed Joan's memory. The boat had capsized, tossing their meager belonging to the whims of the waves, not to mention their bodies. The sensation of drowning had overcome Joan; it had left her melancholy and ready to die. To her surprise, and gobs of regret, she was glad to have awoken in a pleasant place. Or so it seemed.
Joan made it to her feet, but quickly realized something was wrong. Her ears were muddy and she was terribly dizzy. Common sense told her she suffered a knock on the head and Swimmer's Ear. Steadying herself, she clamored over to the ship debris to see if there was anything salvageable, notably her cell phone.
Dismayed that she found Michelle's bag, that skank, she opened it finding some of her clothing. Well, you might call it that, but Joan's heavy set body was not really complimented by much smaller t-shirts. Thank the gods there was a pair of stretchy shorts, but sadly, they sparsely covered Joan's rear. Her bikini bottom hung over the top waist band while her buttocks poked precariously from the bottom hem.
The tropic jungle hadn't been much of anything to pay attention to. Joan figured her companions would be littered about the beach, looking for her and/or each other. Sitting in a curved recess in the wrecked yacht's hull, Joan waited calmly, listening to her stomach grumble. With her head hurting now, she closed her eyes, trying to get actual rest as best she could. The soothing ocean put her at ease and right off to sleep.