Huge Fuckin Insects Pt 01

(Inspired by "Ravaging A New Host"

by Little White Mouse)

By The Preve

Thanks to Emerald Mbuku for the edit.

Emma Burgess watched the plane sink into the azure blue waters of the lagoon. Bad luck all around. "We are fucked," she said to Doug. "And the week started off so well."

Actually the week hadn't started off well. Emma didn't really want to come to Tahiti but her sister Stella had apparently gotten into trouble

"Again," sighed an exasperated Emma

so the parents asked (actually commanded) Emma to look for her. Stella and her best friend Moira, whom Emma didn't particularly like,

"Smartassed bitch,"

had dashed off on some end-of-college excursion and, after a brief phone call from the hotel, promptly disappeared.

The Burgesses waited several weeks after Stella's failure to return before sending Emma. They did so reluctantly. Until recently, Emma was considered the level headed sister but then she had to get involved in that scandalous relationship. . . Bad enough he wasn't of their class, but a nineteen year old? Emma was thirty. "We expected this behavior from Stella but you. . . etc, etc."

Emma, in truth, couldn't say why she was involved with Doug. She didn't know herself. The closest explanation was, "It was Daytona. It was spring break. There were all these boys and well. . ." Blind coincidence that she would vacation in Florida on spring break. Blind luck she would meet a freshman on the beach, with the slim, athletic body of a competitive swimmer and (as she would find after a dare from her friend, Mariko, and a couple of tequilas) the dick and stamina of a Viagra cranked porn star. In hindsight, she thought, "It was his cock. . . and those eyes." Doug had the clearest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen on a human face; bluer even than Stella's.

***

Doug "The Dolphin" Doyle, on his part, couldn't believe his good luck. There he was, his first spring break, surrounded by the choicest college babes from all points, US, and the first chick to come on to him was a hot number old enough to be. . . well his swim coach.

The first night was mind blowing (or cock blowing, Emma was really good). It wasn't the virginal teen vs. Mrs. Robinson. Doug lost his virginity at fifteen and had had several girlfriends prior to Emma. It was more the energetic young man and the experienced older woman. Doug didn't do much else that spring break except fuck Emma. His friends were scandalized. Sure, the lady was hot, but she was, um. . . thirty. A one nighter was fine, but the whole two weeks? And now they're dating? His friends didn't know whether to say "Cool!" or "Huh?!" Doug's views tended towards the former.

She was adventurous in and out of bed. Doug loved going in and out of her. It was difficult scheduling screw sessions between college classes and swim meets. Emma was good about withholding sex before competition.

Thanks to Emma, Doug became somewhat of a nudist. The first time he came to her house, she dared him to skinny dip in the pool. Doug was more than happy to oblige. It got better when she joined him. Nude swimming and fucking became a regular pastime. It helped with the lovemaking that Doug was relatively hairless.

Doug was dark-haired; before swim meets, he shaved his head and waxed his body hair to reduce friction. Just before Emma got the phone call about her sister's disappearance, Doug was in the pool as usual, Emma lounging on the patio. Doug climbed out of the pool, bald and hairless after a recent swim meet. . . mostly hairless. "You missed a spot," Emma giggled. Doug looked down at the dark patch between his legs and smirked. He walked into the house, ignoring Emma's quizzical expression. A few minutes later, he returned with a huge grin and a giant erection on his now hairless crotch.

Emma looked at the long red pole jutting from the swimmer's light pink body and licked her lips. "Looks yummy," she said. "Bring that sausage over so I can have some. And lick my pussy while you're at it." Doug laughed and walked over.

"Bring!" went the phone. "Ignore it," said Emma. She opened her mouth to give Doug a proper kebassing. Doug plunged his tongue into Emma's flower in response. The phone continued to ring as Emma and Doug worked each other over. Doug swirled and licked his tongue around her vulva, gliding across her swollen clit, drinking the nectar squirting from her flower. He rolled his eyes, reveling in the pleasure of her warm slick cum on his face. Emma reciprocated, sliding her wet tongue over and around his hard shaft. She licked his precum, beaded at the tip, and moved her tongue across his bald crotch, licking his bare balls.

Emma's hands clutched his tight buttocks. They hadn't noticed the interlude where the phone stopped, then resumed ringing. She'd worked him to near orgasm. Doug was close to cumming. . . and then the answering machine switched on. "Emma! Emma! I know you're there with that boy! Pick up the phone, Emma! Your sister's missing!"

At her mother's voice, Emma detached from Doug's dick (he actually heard a comical "pop!"). "Damn!" said Emma.

"Damn!" said Doug, as his dong deflated.

He waited while Emma spoke to her mother and then decided to take a few laps to cool off. When he climbed out, Emma was waiting. "Stella decided to take a trip to Tahiti with Moira. They haven't called for awhile and mother says the local cops are morons. She wants me to fly down and look for them. I think she's overreacting but she insists. Want to come along?"

"Hell yes!" Doug's dick said. He'd met Emma's sister and her best friend; both of them were hot but Stella seemed unapproachable. Emma was hot but Stella, "Wow!" Emma's beauty, at least, seemed more accessible, girl-next-door vs. Stella's supermodel looks. Add Moira, a cheesecake, voluptuous vixen type. The prospect of a vacation with three hot women was too much to resist. Emma was a licensed pilot who knew her business. "Pack light," she told him.

They took the Burgess' family Lear jet, landed and checked into a hotel (the same one as Stella and Moira). The next day, they went to the police. Her mother was right. "Morons," Emma said. She hired a local P.I. Unlike most detectives, he was helpful. His probing turned up the name of a local private chopper pilot, described as an unscrupulous bastard, who may have taken a pair of tourists to some restricted islands southwest of Tahiti. Nothing more was heard of him but it was a start. "I suggest you take care, Madame," he cautioned. "If you do look in that direction, do not tell anyone. The islands are restricted and people are known to disappear."

Emma didn't care. Among the few traits she had in common with her sister was a certain bold recklessness. It served her well as a pilot and explorer. She wasn't overly reckless, like her sister, and the temptation to take Doug and head back home was very powerful. Sure it was Tahiti, but her presence was attributable to her unlikable parents. That aspect spoiled any prospect of a good time in paradise. "Sis, why'd you have to fucking go and get yourself lost?" Emma thought with a good amount of rue. She sighed, sorority trumped convenience. "Know where we can find a good plane?" she asked the P.I.

Acquiring the float plane took a few bribes and several close inspections. Some of the prospective salesmen were dismayed to find that the "easy" mark was an expert pilot, a top flight mechanic, and a shrewd buyer with lengthy experience dealing with con artists. An hour's flight later and the couple were over the islands.

Doug didn't need coaxing the get on the plane. The adventure excited him. Thoughts of three hot babes on a tropical island crowded out any misgivings. The flight was uneventful until they passed over the second island. "What did the P.I say about this one?" He asked.

"He called it Wongo," Emma said. "I'm going to make a quick pass. I don't want to be here longer than I have to."

Wongo was a reasonably sized island with a large lagoon. It didn't have as many plants as the other islands. Longo, the first one, seemed particularly lush. Emma took note of the many hills dotting Wongo's interior. A large extinct volcano sat at the southern tip.

"Quite a few pools in this place," Doug remarked. "I see some streams and falls. This looks like a good place to swim."

"Mmph," Emma grunted. She was more intrigued by the strange looking birds near the volcano. "I don't see any wreckage. I'm going to the next island." Emma turned the plane towards Mongo.

Wham! "What the-?!" Emma cried as the plane shuddered. Something was smeared across the windshield. A splotch of pale brown and beige viscera stained the glass. "What the hell is that?" asked Doug. Emma was about to answer when the plane came under an onslaught of multiple impacts. "Damn! Bird strike! Hold on! We've got to get out of here before the engine seizes!"

The smeared windshield limited the occupants' vision. Emma was busy keeping the plane aloft. Doug clutched the seat, staring at the viscera on the windshield. Bits and pieces of bird were smeared and wiped away. One piece caused Doug to blink. "That looks like an insect wing," he thought. The wipers erased it a second later.

There was another jolt. The engine gave a sickening sputter and cut out. "Oh fuck!" Emma cursed. She looked through the smeared windshield and turned to Doug, "I'm going to glide her in. Brace yourself; I'm aiming for the lagoon."

Emma's expert piloting managed to get them to the water, but the plane flipped and started to sink almost immediately. Doug's swimming skills took over. He helped Emma unbuckle and, with his help, exit the plane and swim ashore. Now they were on the beach and Emma was saying, "We are fucked. . ."

"Look," Doug said. "It's not so bad. Your parents will send someone eventually. All we have to do is survive until then. Where are we again?"

"Wongo," Emma replied sourly. "They don't know where we are, Doug, and we couldn't tell the authorities because they'd stop us."

"Emma, if Stella and Moira could find these islands, and we could too, what makes you think it will be any different with your parents?"

Emma thought for a second. "No, Mother couldn't find her way out of a beauty salon, but they could hire someone who can. I can scrounge up some food while we wait." Emma, like her sister, was an excellent hiker with hunting skills. "Most of these islands have coconut and banana trees, and I think we can. . . what are you doing?"

Doug was stripping off his clothes. "I'm going to dive to the plane and salvage our packs. Wanna help?"

Emma thought for less than a second, "Hmmm, why not?" And began to strip. They could have just as easily dived with their clothes but it seemed pointless. Better to let them dry on the beach.

Doug stripped to his briefs and, after a moment's hesitation, took them off. "There's nothing she hasn't seen before," he thought. Emma, matching her boyfriend's nudity, dispensed with her bra and panties. Doug gazed at her body. "God she's hot," he admired. "Not as hot as her sister but still...."

Emma's straight dark brown hair went to her shoulders. She sported a more athletic look than Stella, more demure, with dark brown eyes, a broader nose, and thinner lips. While she matched her sister in c-cup breast size and had a taut muscled midsection, Emma was wider in the hips. "Child bearing hips, Mom would say," thought Doug. Emma was shorter than her sister, standing at 5'9". She was beautiful but not a stunner. "That's the thing," Doug thought. "She's approachable, not like Stella. I'm so lucky."

Emma looked at Doug. His hair hadn't grown back from a few days ago. His hairless state only emphasized the musculature of his athletic frame. "He looks like a Greek statue," she thought. "A Greek statue with the bluest eyes ever. I'm so lucky."

Staring at Emma's naked form caused a flashback to the moment before the phone call. "Whoa pardner," Emma said, staring at Doug's swelling member. "Remember? The packs? Time for that later."

"Oh! Erm!" gulped Doug, startled out of his erotic reverie. His pale body blushed pink.

"You can't possibly be embarrassed," Emma laughed, walking into the water.

"'Course not."

In due course, they retrieved the backpacks. They held enough rations for two days. "We can't stay on the beach," Emma said. "We need to be near a source of fresh water. I saw a pool nearby."

Their clothes were still wet, so the couple decided to carry them and wear sandals. It was a short hike. "It's quiet," Doug noted. Indeed, other than the trees rustling in the breeze, everything was silent. "Yeah," Emma agreed. "Where are the birds? That was a major bird strike up there."

"It's creepy," Doug added.

A sense of unease settled upon the couple. It disappeared when they came to the pool. It was roughly circular, fed by several streams which flowed over and through rock outcroppings surrounding it. Years of water flow had worn the rocks smooth. There were plenty of places around the pool to rest. The streams were no more than a few inches deep. The babbling flow of the water was almost joyful.

"Well, this is fun," said Emma with a genuine smile. Doug, however, didn't hesitate. There wasn't a pool anywhere that could keep out "The Dolphin." Almost before Emma finished, Doug was in the pool with a "Woo hoo!" and a "splash!"

"Doug!" an exasperated Emma exclaimed.

"Oh come on, Em! There's nothing dangerous around. We can gather food later. Just spread the clothes on the rocks and let them dry. 'Sides, you need to rinse the salt water off."

Emma smirked wryly. Doug was splashing around like a pale pink seal. Minutes later, the clothes were spread and Emma was splashing in the water with Doug. Normally one thing would lead to another, certainly Doug's dick plumped with expectation. Emma was tempted but survival came first. "Whoa there, fella," Emma said. "Get some firewood first, then I'll plant myself on your wood."

"Now?"

"Yes now. I want some wood around here before it gets dark. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes. There are branches everywhere, no dangerous animals. Go get the wood. I'll be waiting." Emma smiled, swam to a rock on the edge of the pool, climbed on it and lay back with a grin of mischief. Doug frowned, grumbled, and swam to the other side. He climbed out and walked over the rocks towards a wooded area. Emma giggled, "Ha! He'll get over it." And lay back on the rock to rest. "It's only a few days," she thought. "They'll find us soon enough. May as well enjoy it."

The day was overcast but warm and humid. The burbling stream was a lullaby. Emma closed her eyes for a light doze, unaware that she and Doug would soon be undergoing the strangest most harrowing experience of their lives.

The ant was a forager. Its task was to range far and wide, picking up anything of use to the colony. It did so not as ordered but as instinct. It held the basic philosophy of all ants: queen and colony above all. A simple philosophy for a simple life.

The ant had just left the colony, trundling through the jungle, heading towards the pool. There were coconut trees nearby; some coconuts plus a few large tree branches were on its gather list. The concepts of serendipity and fortune were meaningless to the ant. Many animals lived on the island, of different varieties, none strange to the ant. So when it came across the aphid, the ant didn't hesitate to pick it up.

It had to be an aphid, of course. It was strangely shaped and had less appendages, but it was pale and hairless and, therefore, an aphid. The ant just scooped it up in its mandibles and headed back to the colony. It was strange the aphid made different noises from others of its kind. In fact, more often than not, aphids were usually quiet. It squirmed a lot for an aphid as well. Aphids were generally docile.

The ant had to take care not to crush the creature while keeping a tight grip. The aphid's struggles increased as the ant approached the mound housing the colony. It made louder noises when it saw the other ants. The ant was mildly annoyed; this behavior was strange for an aphid. It hoped the creature wouldn't make trouble when it was milked. Aphid honey was a great delicacy; the queen would be very pleased. The ant crawled into the mound, pulling the struggling, screaming aphid behind it.

To Be Continued.