The first truly scandalous event, of the sort that cannot be concealed by polite society, happened two months after the survivors of the HMS Intrepid landed on the tropical moon, and one night after the typhoon.
--
The survivors had noticed the sky darkening one afternoon as they retrieved the fishing nets. The storm had quickly risen until it covered the sky, with blinding rain and a wind that lashed the sea into a froth. They had spent that night sheltering, their roof lowered to prevent it from blowing away in the sudden wind, their eyes always half-open for floodwaters or a deadly piece of windblown debris.
They crawled out of their home the following morning to assess the damage. One of the fishing nets they hadn't brought in had been swept away by the waves, but the others remained anchored to the trees where Roger and Anabella had tied them. Much of the other damage appeared to be superficial.
Admittedly, as they walked around the island to repair the damage from the storm, Anabella was assessing more than just their equipment. Since their arrival on the tropical moon, she and her friends had worn almost no clothing, so as to survive the moon's humidity. After a day or so of observing each other's nudity, they had cast shame aside and pleasured themselves and each other, with hands and lips and whispered words of pleasure.
The night of the typhoon had been the first night in weeks in which Anabella had not pleasured herself or any of her friends. And so, as they walked around, Anabella could not help but admire her friends with more than her usual amount of lust.
Roger, her former footman, was tall and strong. Months of physical work had left him lean and muscular, and Anabella couldn't help but stare at his back and his legs as he straightened their shelter or pulled their fishing nets out of the water. She knew he wouldn't mind her looking, but some fragment of her old propriety still inclined her to watch him surreptitiously.
Shanti was a few inches shorter than Anabella and Roger. She was slender, with black hair and brown eyes that Anabella could easily get lost in. She'd been specific about giving Anabella permission to ogle her, and they snuck glances at each other as the day went on. Shanti had told Anabella once that she was particularly enticing when she threw the fishing nets into the ocean, and now every time Anabella did so while Shanti was present her heart raced a bit.
Ciara was the curviest, as far as Anabella could tell. Her curly red hair fell across her shoulders and onto her lovely bosom. While the others wore fragmentary skirts or shorts, she wore only a skimpy undergarment that accentuated more than it concealed. Ciara had also given Anabella permission to ogle her, but she frequently gave her a knowing smirk or a teasing comment when she did so. Anabella knew this, and yet she could not bring herself to stop.
Anabella was able to keep her desires in check until the evening, when they finished their last meal of the day and retired to their shelter. It was large enough to protect them from the occasional rainstorms, but it was not large enough to accommodate anything more than the bed they'd sewn together from scraps of fabric and padding. The bed, in turn, could only accommodate them if they slept at each other's sides.
"How on Earth did you survive a night without any attention, Roger?" Ciara asked as she set her undergarments aside for bed.
"He's done it before," Shanti noted. "But it must have been hard."
"You should know," Ciara replied. "He was facing you."
"I survived just fine," Roger said.
"He was likely worrying about you," Anabella volunteered, blushing on his behalf. She knew that Ciara was only being a tease, yet a part of her couldn't help but take his side. Another part of her, small but insistent, wanted to help Ciara tease because Robert blushed beautifully when he was bashful.
Ciara faced Roger and stepped close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"Were you worried about me?" she asked softly, her gaze wandering from his eyes down to his chest and back up.
"Yes," he admitted.
"How can I reassure you," she said, stepping closer and pressing her body against his, "that I am quite safe?"
He took a deep breath. Anabella caught a glimpse of his manhood, stiffening as Ciara pressed her belly against it. She was vaguely aware that, even if Victorian society could ignore the class differences and the nudity on display, they would expect her to be jealous, to jockey for position with the others and claim the superior position as befitted her birth. And yet, Anabella felt nothing but joy as she watched Ciara and Roger embrace. Fighting for a good seat seemed irrelevant when every seat in the house sat next to her friends, and had such a lovely view of the stage.
"I suppose," Roger allowed, "that you could let me check your pulse."
Ciara smiled brightly. "Proceed, sir."
Roger leaned down and kissed Ciara's neck, gently at first but with rising ardour. Ciara panted and leaned her neck back to give Roger better access, holding his shoulders tightly.
Anabella sat down on the bed, facing them cross-legged so she could watch. Shanti sat at her side, nudging her knee playfully.
"Do call if you need assistance, miss," Shanti whispered. It was teasing, and yet it was quite sincere.
Anabella smiled. "You do the same, please."
Shanti took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Roger's kissing and Ciara's flushed skin. She ran her fingers through her bush and along her lips, the first of her dew already showing.
"Yes," she said.
Roger broke the kiss and drew back to face Ciara.
"Your pulse is a bit elevated," he said, "but I am reassured all the same."
She pulled him close and kissed him fiercely, so much that he had to steady himself on the bed. He returned her kiss, their lips pressed together as if driven by the previous night's storm. She pulled away after a moment, almost as fiercely as she'd begun, and held Roger's head to stare into his eyes.
"Perhaps you should let me lie down somewhere warm, as a precaution."
Roger needed no further prompting. He lay down, his arm mere inches from Anabella's knees, and gave her an excited smile as he did. Instead of lying down next to Roger, though, Ciara gently maneuvered him to the middle of the space. She caught his eye, and held it as she lifted her leg and straddled him.
"I suppose this looks comfortable," she said as she leaned down, pressing the curves of her bosom against his chest. "Are you confident I'll be safe here?"
He glanced down to their hips. His view was blocked, but Anabella could see his manhood pointing skyward, resting against Ciara's lips.
"That depends on how you move," he gasped. He pulled her close and kissed her gently, caressing her hair. "I don't want to put you at risk."
Anabella whimpered. She had not spoken of it, but a certain number of her fantasies had begun here, with Roger's manhood venturing into forbidden territory. Sometimes she had imagined Roger thrusting his cock into her, holding her close until he came apart inside her. Other times he had been with Shanti or Ciara, filling their wombs with his seed. She knew it was thoroughly impractical, and would complicate their rescue, but her sense of practicality had never faced a challenge of this magnitude before. Judging by Shanti's soft moan and the motion of her fingers, she found it at least as exciting as Anabella did.
"I am sure that you would never harm me," Ciara said, her hips making gentle circles that pressed Roger's cock against her lips. "You are a gentleman."
"Yes," he groaned.
"So," she went on, "if a lady asked you to...oblige her, and hold off on your own pleasure, could you do so?"
Anabella gasped, her mind racing in two directions. On the one hand, the very thought was making her grow wet. On the other hand, she might be in a better position to act as a voice of reason. Judging by Shanti's long, helpless moan, she would not find it easy to speak up.
"Are you quite certain?" Anabella gasped. She couldn't stop rubbing herself as she said it, and she hoped that didn't undercut the message.
"It's alright, Anabella," Ciara said, her eyes never leaving Roger's.
Roger took a deep breath. "Yes," he said.
Ciara smiled. "Just tell me if you're going to do anything ungentlemanly," she said. She lifted herself up just a bit, and reached down to take his cock in one hand. She guided it to her lips, gasping as she felt his head part her lips. She let the motion continue, her hips sinking down a bit at a time as she took his cock deeper and deeper inside her.
They all moaned together as Ciara settled her hips on Roger's. Ciara's moan was deep and primal, an acknowledgement that she shouldn't be doing this but that she couldn't resist, either. Roger's moan was more controlled, a dam to hold back his rising pleasure. Shanti was wanton, crying out in unmitigated lust, while Anabella's tone still carried a bit of shock at the rules of decorum being broken.
Ciara began a gentle exploration, seeking out a rhythm without pushing Roger too quickly. She set her hands on his chest as she rose and fell, half watching his expression and half minding her own pleasure.
Anabella was always entranced by her friends' bodies, but every sight seemed new and electric. Roger's expression spoke volumes about the exquisite pleasure he felt, but Anabella couldn't set aside the thought of what would happen if he rose to his full and filled Ciara with his seed. Ciara's breasts bounced as she rocked atop him, and Anabella kept thinking of how her curves would grow if she was expecting. Shanti wasn't doing anything risky, but Anabella glanced over to see her whimpering as she slid two fingers into her kitty, and she realized that Shanti might wish she was doing something risky.
"Oh," Roger moaned. He reached up to caress Ciara's cheek, and she smiled and kissed his finger.
"Are you doing alright down there?" she asked softly.
He nodded. "I'm still in control."
She giggled, then leaned down to kiss his lips. The kiss lasted only a moment, and when she rose back up, he tried for a brief second to follow her. She smiled deviously and placed her hand on his chest, keeping him in place.
"You are in control, are you, sir?"
He blushed, and Anabella was amazed that he was capable of it under the circumstances.
"Of myself, at least," he admitted. "You can control everything else."
