The waves lapped incessantly against the soft sandy beach. Ann gazed out to the horizon, like she did yesterday, the day before that and every day that she had been marooned on the island. She squinted to protect her eyes from the glare of the sun light off the water. But no matter how she scanned the horizon, there was no sign of a ship, a plane or rescue of any kind.
Ann sighed and scuffed her feet against the soft, warm sand. She had been here for three weeks but it seemed like three years. Fear was soon replaced by loneliness and a sense of isolation. Would she ever be rescued? Would she ever see other people again?
She went back to the hut that she had made to protect her from the noonday sun. It was made from palm fronds, and in other circumstances would have been impossibly romantic. But here, with no one else to enjoy her island paradise, Ann felt like a prisoner in her own private hell.
She lay on the hammock that she had rigged between two palm trees, and dozed gently in the gentle tropical breeze. The waves sounded softly in the distance, as she cast her mind back to when she was with other people, and gradual she dozed into the realms where sleep and reality are exchanged.
She remembered men, Men with their strange ways, the strange attraction that she had for them, and she remembered the times she had given herself to them and felt the full pleasure of a man's body. As she dozed, Ann gently slid her hand down her body and slid her fingers onto her pussy.
She remembered her first fumblings and the thrill of ecstasy and as she remembered, she weaved little circles with her fingers, teasing her own pussy and sliding her finger casually over her clitoris
The sun gently kissed her bronzed skin and the wind rocked her gently as she played with herself, and slowly drifted in and out of sleep, her hand working methodically to build her pleasure up to a plateau of excitement,
Her breaths got quicker now, as he became more excited and her heart raced as she stroked herself more urgently now. Faster and faster her fingers worked, until eventually
Release.
She dozed in the sun, while the tropical jungle seemed to holds its breath as she drifted off into a deep sleep of ecstasy.
It was cooler when she awoke.
It seemed she had slept for hours, fuelled by love and memories. She looked round suspiciously. The sun had moved across the sky and there was only an hour or two of daylight left. Ann felt that she was been watched. She couldn't describe why; she had searched every day for sight of a human presence in hope, but now her intuition told her that she was not alone. She went down to the beach to look for tracks or a boat- there was nothing.
She casually walked along the waterline trailing her long skirt in the warm water. The innocence of the setting had been replaced by a sense of fear of imminent danger. She realised that the jungle was quiet.
Ann ran for the jungle, a headlong helter skelter panic of a run, with no destination in mind, just flight, running way from it, them or whatever it was. She ran through branches and thorns, which tore at her and scratched her skin, her skirt caught on a branch and was ripped but she raced on regardless.
Suddenly she stopped