After our first day and night of marathon sex, Steve and I settled back into our typical routine of fighting for survival. Sex wasn't high on the list, especially after exhausting days of work, but we found time to express our deep, unyielding love and respect for each other in the most intimate of ways. Mornings were usually the best time for sex, and we often began our days with our bodies intertwined, usually with Steve's big cock spoiling my ass with his expert love making, bringing me to climax every time. Sometimes we exchanged blowjobs or engaged in a long, easy sixty nine. He may be straight, but he was a pretty good cock sucker, too. It was as if our bodies were made to make love to each other, as if there was some predestined certainty that we should be stranded on an island together, so we could discover one another.
Days and weeks blurred together, and I lost track of how long we had been on the island. Our beards were long, even if mine was a wispy mess compared to Steve's thick beard. There was just nothing about the guy that didn't scream masculinity. We grew thinner from a lack of food that wasn't always easy to find or catch. With all that had to be done to survive, we expended more energy than we were taking in.
Our sexual activities aside, I soon began to realize that I was in love with him. It was a stupid thing to fall in love with a guy who was only exploring his sexuality while he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no one other than me, but I couldn't help myself. I was sure his attitude about gay sex would change the first time he lay eyes on a pretty girl. It worried me in my time alone, doing my tasks while Steve did his, and I knew I needed to somehow discover how he felt about being gay. Or, if he actually thought of himself in that way.
One night, as we sat around the fire with full bellies of coconut crab and roasted coconuts, I looked at him, his face lit with the firelight. I had been hesitant about broaching the subject, but I needed to know how he felt about me, and what he thought of being with a guy instead of a woman.
"What is the first thing you're going to do when we get rescued?" I asked him hesitantly.
"I don't know," he answered after some time thinking about the question, "I'm not sure I want to be rescued at this point."
"Why not?" I asked, shocked by his answer.
"Don't get me wrong," he answered quickly, "I'd love a hamburger right now, maybe a piece of chocolate cake, but I'm worried about what happens with us when we leave the island."
"How do you mean?" I watched him a moment, then realized it was time to come clean with him. "I mean, I know you're not gay, and you only fuck me because I'm all there is, but whether we break it off and go our separate ways is up to you. I love you, and I wouldn't exchange this time with you for anything else in the world."
He smiled at me, then poked the fire with a stick, sending sparks flying upward.
"I love you, too," he finally said, "Even if you are a guy. I'm confused about what that means, but I'm definitely in love with you."
