Incest on the Island

My parents John and Marsha owned and operated a commercial fishing boat named The Wanderer out of a West Coast port. My father was the skipper, my mother the cook, my brother Frank the mate, and my other three brothers Ron, Marty, and Jack were deck hands. My father had an uncanny ability to find the big tuna that brought a hefty price at the fish auction. The Wanderer went to sea and didn't return until the icy hold was filled with fish. I was left on my own during the four or five days that my family was at sea. I cooked my own meals, washed my own clothes, went to school every day, and did my homework. Consequently, I became very self-reliant, a quality that has served me well.

When I graduated from high school, my parents insisted that I attend college. None of my brothers had been to college, and they wanted at least one of their sons to have a degree. I had had enough of classrooms and wanted to join the family business. The life of a fisherman seemed romantic to me. If I had known what hard, dangerous work it was maybe they would have had their way, but I persisted until they gave in.

My first fishing trip was a great adventure. We got underway on a Monday morning and left port by the light of the moon. My father set course for his favorite spot and we made good time - fifteen knots - across the glassy sea. We kept ourselves busy checking and rechecking our lines and equipment. It takes more than luck to be successful as a fisherman; it takes well-maintained equipment.

Mom came out on deck and sipped a cup of coffee as she watched the sun rise out of the blue sea. Her shirt was so tight across her big tits that I could see her nipples sticking through. I had been physically attracted to her since puberty, but now, with my hormones raging, my interest in her became an obsession. Two or three times a day I went to the head and jacked off to fantasies of fucking her.

Some men would probably have considered my mother pretty while others would have thought her beautiful. Tastes differ. To me, she was always beautiful. She had full, round tits that she showed off with low-cut dresses or half-buttoned shirts. A perfectionist might have criticized her for her slightly rounded belly, but I thought it made her even sexier. Her long legs were flawless.

We reached our destination and ran out our long lines equipped with hundreds of baited hooks. After the lines had been in the water for awhile, we pulled them in and removed the fish from the hooks. They were packed in wooden crates and placed on a bed of dry ice in the hold. It was hard work, and I was so exhausted that when I fell into my bunk for an hour or two of rest, I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Disaster struck on our third night out. I was asleep in my bunk when the boat suddenly lurched to port, throwing me to the deck. The Wanderer was pitching and rolling so violently that I had great difficulty making my way to the pilot house. A violent storm had come out of nowhere. I had never imagined anything like it. Dad was at the wheel and my brother Frank was frantically trying to raise the Coast Guard on the radio. Dad told me to go back and close the engine-room door before we took on water. As I struggled to close the door against the howling wind, a wave knocked me to the deck. Water rushed into the engine room and flooded the generator, leaving us dead in the water with no electricity. As long as we had power we had a fighting chance if we could keep the bow into the twenty-foot waves. Without power, our situation was desperate.

When it became clear that we were probably going to die, we vowed to go down fighting. Using superhuman effort, we managed to batten down the hatches. Caught in a trough, the boat rolled violently a full ninety degrees. We clung to whatever solid thing was at hand and prayed that she would come back. Our faithful vessel slowly righted herself. At that point, my father made the decision not to abandon ship. He felt that we had a better chance by staying with the boat. Launching our rubber life rafts would have been impossible.

We rode out the storm for more than an hour. Suddenly, there was a screaming sound and the boat came to an abrupt stop, throwing us to the deck. We braved the elements and went out on deck. Our flashlights revealed a reef underneath our hull. We were high and dry! We couldn't do anything until daybreak so we went back inside and tried to sleep for a few hours.

The storm subsided by morning. We discovered that we were stuck on a reef a few hundred yards from a verdant island. My heart sank when I saw the damage. The hull had been ripped to shreds. We weren't going anyplace. The generator had also been damaged beyond repair, and without it, we couldn't radio for help.

The first order of business was to search for food and water. We soon discovered that fish were plentiful and easy to catch. Tasty clams could be dug from the sand. Iguanas and some sort of large rodent provided very tasty meat. Fruit and berries were plentiful. Our well-stocked shipwreck kit even contained packets of seeds for growing vegetables. Several crystal-clear springs provided a source of fresh water. We breathed a little easier. At least we wouldn't die of starvation or thirst.

After a thorough exploration of the island proved that it was uninhabited, we got down to work and tried to make the best of things. After salvaging what we could from The Wanderer, we went to work building shelters. We decided to build two huts, one for Mom and Dad and the other for the rest of us, and to build them a distance apart for privacy.

For the first two months or so, I stayed so busy that I didn't think much about sex. Whenever I had to, I went into the jungle and jacked off. I'm certain my brothers were doing the same. With our shelters completed, our workload became much lighter. Life became easy, almost pleasant. With too much leisure time on my hands, my thoughts turned to women. I was a virgin so I really had to call on my imagination when I fantasized. I was horny all the time. To make matters worse, Mom had gone completely native and refused to wear a top. The sight of her big, bouncy tits always gave me a hard-on.

One night I slipped through the jungle to Mom and Dad's hut and listened as they made love. I wanted to find out what it was all about so I could embellish my fantasies. I heard Mom moaning softly as Dad did something to her. "Oh, yes, John, that's it. My God, you really know how to use your dick. I don't know why I'm so fucking horny all the time. Do you think it could be the clams?" I pulled out my cock and stroked as I listened to their bellies slapping together. Mom's groans grew louder and louder. How I wished that I could see what they were doing.

"Yes, that's it John, pull on my big nipples. Fuck me harder, please. Yes, a little faster now. That's it! Faster! Faster! OH, MY GOD, JOHN, I'M CUMMING!" My father's loud groan was drowned out by Mom's wails of ecstasy. After I shot my load onto the ground, my ego deflated rapidly and a surge of guilt came over me. "Please give me another poke, John," Mom said. "I can't Marsha. My God, that's three times today. You're killing me."

As I tiptoed away, I thought about what Mom had said. She was so insatiably horny that Dad couldn't keep up with her. I felt that I would lose my sanity if I didn't get to fuck her. I came up with a plan. I could hardly wait for the sun to come up so I could reveal it to my brothers.

The following morning, I called a meeting of my brothers. "I happened to be passing by Mom and Dad's hut last night and I heard them going at it. Guess what. Something, maybe the clams, has turned Mom into such a raving nympho that Dad can't keep up with her. It doesn't seem fair that he has her all to himself while we have to suffer. I'm tired of jacking off. I want some pussy. I say we talk to Dad and offer to help him out."

Frank, the oldest agreed. "I've been thinking along the same lines. Back home, I fucked Jenny every day. It's sheer agony going without pussy. I agree with Tom. Let's have a talk with Dad." The others nodded. They were all married and had had good sex lives with their wives. They were probably suffering more than I was. My heart raced with excitement when Frank took a vote and every hand shot up.

We decided to approach Dad in a group rather than elect a spokesman. That evening when Mom went to the lagoon to bathe, we went to the vegetable garden where Dad was working. "Dad, we need to talk to you," Frank said. He wiped the sweat from his brow and sat on a fallen tree. "Dad, I'm going to be blunt. I hope you won't hate us for this. I think you should share Mom with us. We know that you can't keep up with her. We were thinking that we could help you out. We'll all be better off."

Dad didn't even bat an eye. "You, know, boys, I've been giving that some thought. We've only got one woman and under the circumstances it doesn't seem right to keep her to myself. She had her tubes tied so there is no risk of pregnancy. I sure could use the help. I don't know what has come over her. I'll talk to her about it right now, and if it's okay with her, it's okay with me." We waited until he disappeared down the path into the jungle and then shook each other's hands and clapped each other's back.

It wasn't long before they came up the path hand-in-hand. Both had broad smiles on their faces. "All right, boys," Mom said. "It's about time you came forward. We'll do it." I thought I would faint from excitement. We held a little meeting and discussed how we would put our plan into action. After considerable debate, it was decided that each of us would spend a weeknight with her and that Dad would have her on weekends. We would build a third shelter for him. Dad decreed that we would go in order of age, with the oldest going first. I didn't like the plan because it meant my brothers would pipe her ahead of me, but I didn't have much say in it.

The following day, Dad came to our hut and told Frank to go to his mother. He had spent hours scrubbing, shaving, and rubbing sweet-smelling flowers against his tan skin. How I envied him as he walked up the path whistling a merry tune. I picked up my fishing pole and told the others that I was going fishing, then I circled around through the jungle until I was near Mom's hut. I soon heard a keening emanating from the hut. Frank was an old married man who probably knew all the tricks. At least, it sounded like he did. Mom shouted "I'M CUMMING!" three times before they fell silent.

That week was one of the most miserable of my life. Each evening, another brother would walk up the path to heaven. I was afraid that they would wear her out before my turn came. To make matters worse, I refrained from jacking off so that I would be in peak form when my turn came.

After my four brothers had their turns with Mom, they were like different men. There was no more squabbling over trivial things. They worked together as a team. They even made plans to build bigger and better huts. My turn finally came. "Okay, Tom," Dad said. "Go show your Mom a good time." My brothers shook my hand and clapped me on the back. "You're leaving a boy and you'll come back a man," Frank said.

Mom was lying naked on the bed that we had salvaged from The Wanderer. My jaw dropped when I saw how beautiful she was. A thousand fantasies had not prepared me for that moment. "Well, take off your clothes and come here, Tom. You know that you're my favorite. I've been waiting all week for this." The blood rushed to my face and my cock. As I slowly stripped off my clothes, I wondered if I would have the balls to fuck my mother.

"Oh, yes, that's a nice big one," Mom whispered. "I knew you would turn out big." I was curious to know how I compared with my father and brothers but too shy to ask. She patted the bed beside her. "Don't think of me as your mother, just imagine that I am a woman you just picked up in a bar."

I lay trembling beside her, unsure how to start. "We're going to do this up right," she said, as she brought her pretty head down on my cock. There is no way that a man can describe his first blow job. Adjectives like warm, wet, and soft are simply inadequate. Heavenly is the only word that I can think of that comes close. My first blow job lasted only thirty seconds, but each second seemed like an hour. "Oh, no, oh, Mom, look out, I can't hold it." She made gurgling noises as I pumped what felt like a quart of jism into her mouth. When it was over, she lifted her head, swallowed hard, and said, "You really needed that."

I tried to apologize but she clamped a hand over my mouth to shut me up. "I did it for all of your brothers," she said. "I've been swallowing so much of that stuff that I'm going to have to start watching my weight." Mom lay on her side and offered me a tit to suck on. "When you were a baby, you always did a good job draining my jugs. I knew you'd turn out to be a tit man."

As I nursed hungrily on her suckers, she teased my cock with her fingertips. I didn't lose much of my hard-on and was soon ready for the main event. "I think a man should have his first fuck the old-fashioned way," she said. She rolled onto her back, spread her legs, and told me to mount her. Her hot cunt was much tighter than I expected. Of course, I had nothing to compare it to. Mom rested her hands lightly on my ass and tried to guide my movements. I suppose I made up for my lack of experience with youthful enthusiasm. Mom told me to vary the depth, speed and angle of my thrusts. "Each poke should come as a complete surprise," she said. When I tried it, she immediately began to huff and puff. "Oh, my God, you are a fast learner. Oh, yes, you are going to be a good fucker, maybe the best of the lot. Oh, yes, UHU..UHU..UHU..UHU..YES..I'M CUMMING!" Staying on top of Mom through her orgasm brought back memories of the storm. It was a rough ride. As she reached her peak, I pumped her full of batter.

That night with Mom was the best of my life. She even let me fuck her in the ass! She liked it in the back door just as much as in the front. Our arrangement worked beautifully. We truly were one big, happy family. We had enough food and sex to satisfy both of those appetites. Our arrangement continued for two months, then one night when it was my turn with her, Mom made a shocking request. "Son, I've never had a gang-bang, and I've always wanted one. Why don't you and your brothers give me one. You are the most persuasive and articulate. You should be able to convince them." I almost fell out of bed.

The next day I took it up with my brothers. There was surprisingly little debate, and we voted to give Mom her wish. It was the least we could do after all she had done for us. A few days later, we took Mom down to the beach. It's probably just as well that Dad chose not to participate. His presence would have inhibited us. We built a bonfire and sat naked around it sipping berry wine that Mom had made. It took awhile for us to work up our courage, then Frank went forward, put Mom on all fours and fucked her doggy-style. Before long, Ron knelt by her head and fed her his cock. Jack and I slipped underneath and nursed on her suckers. Frank and Marty took turns fucking her, and if not for Ron's cock acting as a gag, passing ships might have heard her howls and rescued us.

We all fucked Mom more than once that night. The fucking got even better when her pussy and thighs were slick with cum. The scene constantly changed as we granted Mom's wish for variety. The highlight of the evening for me was fucking her in the ass while Jack's cock plunged into her pussy. For several days afterward, none of us had an appetite for sex, but that soon passed. Orgies became part of our sex lives and were usually held once a month after Mom's period when she was especially horny.

After nearly a year on the island, we were rescued by a tramp steamer. When we got back home, my brothers went back to their wives. Thinking he was dead, Frank's wife had remarried. He and her new husband decided to share her. I continued fucking Mom for several months until her sex drive began to fade. Something in the diet had apparently been responsible for her nymphomania. I longed for those wonderful days back on the island.