This is a sexual fantasy with no effort made at real life experiences. If you object to gay fiction, DO NOT READ. This story is not for you. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymen@aol.com.
Marooned
By Bald Hairy Man
From my perspective the trip wasn't a success. I'm Dr. Peter Van der Rundael of the New York Institute of Ethnic Studies. I officially I was on an expedition. In reality I was providing a tax break for a wealthy businessman who wanted to write off his luxury yacht as a charitable donation. It was a hoax. The businessman, Tony Amoretti, had no interest in anything other than cheating the tax man.
As soon as I found this out, I tried to get out of the "expedition." I spoke with Amoretti about it. He thought I should be happy getting a six-month long vacation. While I wanted to leave, there was no easy way to do that. We were in the middle of nowhere and I had signed a six-month contract and was stuck.
The yacht had a crew of ten. Most were Indonesian. The Captain was one Mr. Amoretti's old drinking buddies. We also had several of Tony's friends as guests. These were slightly unsavory characters who shared Tony's approach to life and whose primary goal was to have a six month long bender.
I was very much the odd man out and didn't socialize much with the guests. I ate with the crew most of the time and found two men I could get along with who had somewhat the same interests as me. Angus Macmillian was the first mate. He was a big, bluff and outgoing Scot. He ran the ship most of the time, since the Captain was more into the social aspect of being a captain than the nautical. Angus had the reddest beard I had ever seen. It was full and bushy. He wasn't well educated, but he was a keen observer of the world and interested in everything he saw.
The other man was the chef, Carlo. Carlo was 100% Italian, but looked like a Nordic god. He had golden blond hair and the physique of a wrestler. Carlo was a gourmet chef and Mr. Amoretti was a meat and potatoes man. I loved his food, so we got to be friends.
We were sailing through the waters between Indonesia and New Guinea, when we encountered an island. The island appeared on the charts but wasn't named. Normally we would have sailed by and not investigated, but the yacht suffered a massive electrical failure. The engines were out as was the entire communication system.
One of the crew members was an electrician. He went to work on the problem. I wanted to look at the island, so I got a little expedition together with Angus and Carlo. No one else had any interest, but there wasn't anything to do on the ship until electricity was restored. We set off in a small boat toward the island.
We must have been a mile away when I heard an explosion. Looking back at the ship, we saw smoke rising and a much larger ship pulled abreast of the yacht.
"The electrician must have blown something up," I said. "Let's go back."
"Hell no!" Angus exclaimed, "It's pirates."
"What do you mean, pirates?" I asked.
"What do you usually mean when you say pirates?" Angus asked, obviously annoyed. "I should have known. The electrician joined us in Sumatra. It was a set up. He must have sabotaged the ship. They've been following us. Amoretti and his pals liked to flash money and jewels."
"What do we do?" Carlo asked.
"Our boat's small, maybe they don't know we're here. Lets go to the island and hide," Angus said. Since there was no other option open to us we high tailed it to the island. We heard shots and some explosions coming from the yacht.
The island had a complex shoreline of bays and inlets. It was obviously volcanic in nature, but the edges were eroded, so it was easy to find a bay and get out of sight. We entered a bay which was almost circular with an opening to the sea of no more than a quarter of the circumference. Inside the water was calm. One side was a sandy beach, and the other side rocky cliffs. If the pirates came looking for us, they would see our footprints on the sandy shore, so we went to the rocky side and got the boat out of the water.
We quickly found a small cave and stowed the boat out of sight. Then we caught out breath. It would be safe here for a little while at least.
I was expecting to have the pirates chasing after us, but they never showed. After spending the night in the cave, we went looking for the pirates. There was no trace, not a sign of the pirates, or the yacht for that matter. Not seeing the pirates was good, but I realized we were marooned. Mr. Amoretti had no plan for the voyage. He was just sailing around the world. No one would know the yacht was gone for weeks. The Pacific is a big ocean and there would be no way to know where we were.
"Damn we're fucked," Angus said. "Royally fucked."
"It's a big island," I said. "We should be able to live off of it easily."
"I was a shitty boy scout," Angus said. "I'm a sailor. I have no idea how to make it on land."
"I'm an anthropologist," I said. "I've spent years in jungles living off the land."
"Really?" Carlo asked.
"Really," I replied. My jungles had been in South America and Africa, so Pacific islands weren't my speciality, but I figured I could interpolate. Physically I'm a not very impressive skinny guy with thick glasses, but I know jungle survival.
On our first day we did some exploration. The island had a number of spring fed streams, so water wouldn't be a problem and I recognized some of the nuts and fruits as edible. I saw few signs of mammals, but the aquatic life was abundant. My coke bottle thick glasses would be good for making a fire. I didn't set a fire for the first few days. I wanted to make sure the pirates were long gone.
Given how bad our situation was, I was pleased. We were in much better shape stranded on this island than on most small Pacific islands. That is, we were in better shape until the third day. At dawn I heard some sounds, grunting sounds. Opening my eyes I saw a huge, hairy figure hovering over me. At first I thought it was a gorilla. It poked me with a stick.
"Men, we've got a problem," I said. Angus and Carlo stirred. "It's a big problem." As my eyes focused, I saw there were four or five of these creatures in the cave with us. I sat up. They were just staring at us.
"What are they?" Angus whispered.
"Looking on the bright side, they aren't pirates," I replied. I sat up slowly. They just looked and seemed curious rather than aggressive. One of them said something, and another one replied. My main academic specialty is linguistics. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I knew they were talking.
It was getting slowly brighter and I saw they were humans, of a sort. Angus stood up.
"I have to take a leak real bad," he said. "What should I do?"
"Let's try to go out and see what happens," I replied. I stood up slowly, as did Carlo. As we moved to the cave entrance, the creatures made way. Outside Angus went to the edge of a rock outcropping and pissed into the sea.
When the early morning sun hit Angus' bright red hair and it almost looked as if he was on fire. The creatures gasped in amazement. They broke into excited chatter. I had a chance to see them in the light. There were five of them. Four were short, stocky, very hairy men with powerful physiques and massive heads. The fifth was taller and even more muscular.
Inside the cave I had mistaken the creatures as Gorillas. In the light it was clear they were men. They weren't as primitive as cro-Magnons, but they weren't modern men either. I shivered when I realized I had encountered a new species of primitive man. If I lived, it would be the greatest find in the history of anthropology.
Our cave men seemed to be entranced by Angus' red hair and huge beard. The big one went up to him and touched his beard. The big man had a curly, black beard mixed with a good deal of white hair.
"What should I do?" Angus asked.
"Just let him do what he wants," I said. "They don't know what you are. I bet they've never seen red hair before."
"What do you think they think I am?"
"A creature from outer space maybe?" I said. "I don't know what he thinks. He seems friendly." The big man touched Angus and poked him a few times. Angus was wearing a shirt, and the big man looked at it. He pulled at the buttons and tried to look in. He clearly wanted to see what was underneath.
Angus unbuttoned his shirt. The big man touched Angus' hairy chest. Angus reached out and stroked the big man's massive furry chest. The big man pulled on Angus' pants and Angus unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. The smaller men followed the big man's lead. Soon Carlo and I were as naked as they were and they were looking us over.
Angus was a red bear like man covered from head to toe with curly red hair. Carlo was clean shaven, but his body was covered in silky, blond hair. I have nondescript brown hair and am quite hairy, but the men were transfixed by my cock. I'm cut, and they seemed fascinated by my deeply flared cock head.
One of the men dropped to his knees and took my cock into his mouth. He licked it, then began to suck me.
"What should I do?" I asked, a bit shocked.
Angus smiled. "Close your eyes and think of England?" he suggested.
Carlo smiled and said, "It's a hard job, but someone has to do it."
I'm gay and had guessed Carlo was too, so it wasn't hard for me to go with the flow. I had no idea about Angus' sexual interests. He may not have been gay, but he didn't seem to mind watching. He put his arm around the Big Man and they watched me get sucked. Both men were smiling and seemed to approve.
As I said, I'm a bit scrawny, thin and tall. I was well suited to play the scarecrow in the wizard of Oz. My cock is an exception to my general scrawniness. It's 8 to 8.5 inches long and meaty. My primitive cock sucker liked it. The other men got agitated as my horse cock grew to full size.
"Shit, Pete," Carlo said, "I hadn't guessed you were fully equipped." He too was getting hard as were the other men. Most of them had beer can sized meat, with cocks as wide as they were long. The big man was thicker and slightly longer than I.
Angus fondled it, then slipped down and sucked it. The big man rolled his eyes back into his head and moaned. None of the anthropology texts or studies mention using oral sex as a way to establish a connection with a primitive tribe, but I can say from first hand experience, it works.
I realized that if I had a problem identifying what species the island's inhabitants were, they must have had an even greater problem. I knew other peoples and races existed. There was a good chance these men were totally isolated and had never encountered a stranger. I was sure they had never seen a red-haired man before, and probably had never seen a man with pale skin. It was too early to say, but they seemed curious, rather than hostile.
The man sucking me continued until I had an orgasm. When that happened, he called his friends over to watch. I hadn't shot off in days and I tend to have big loads anyway. I had a real gully washer. They loved that. I sent ribbon after ribbon of cum splattering on the sucker's hairy chest. They discussed this in some detail. Of course I couldn't understand a word, but you could sense a combination of scientific interest and admiration. My sucker collected some cum on his finger and tasted it. It apparently was acceptable, so he collected more and offered it to his pals. They greedily lapped it up.
The man who had been sucking me offered my still drooling cock to the youngest man in the group. The young man smiled and then attached himself to my member. I glanced over at Angus and the Big Man. They were in the 69 position. Carlo was sucking one of his companions as the other sucked him. We were one happy group of men.
The men were clearly interested in man on man sex. Fortunately Angus, Carlo and I shared the same interests. After everyone shot off, we talked, the primitive men in one group, we in another.
"I don't think they're cannibals," Angus said. "They ain't virgins either."
"They're cavemen, aren't they?" Carlo asked. "I thought I was hairy. One of the guys had hair on his foreskin."
"But not on the cock head, I bet?" Angus commented, smiling. "As far as I could tell all their baby making equipment was in good operating condition."
"A lot more pre cum than I am use to," Carlo said. "My guys were leaking buckets of the sweet stuff."
"I noticed the same thing," Angus said. "Really tasty too." Carlo nodded.
"It hard to tell exactly what they are," I said. "They aren't homo sapiens. They may be Neanderthals, but it's possible they've been on this island for thousands of years. There's a potential for substantial evolution on isolated islands."
"A la Galapagos?" Angus asked. "If the chart is right, the next island is 800 km away."
"That would be my guess," I replied. "We don't know much about early men. We had skeletons and wax figures in museums. There was scholarly debate about whether they could talk. We've settled that. They have a language."
"Can you understand anything they're saying?" Carlo asked.
"No a word, but the flow of their sound patterns is clearly conversational," I said. "It's not the "ugga, ugga" grunts you hear in bad si-fi movies."
The men got up and came over to us. The Big Man said something and motioned for us to follow him. I decided to try talking. Going to Angus I tugged on his beard and said, "Red beard." Then I went to the Big Man and touched his bead and said "Black beard."
It took a second or two, but when he realized what I was trying to do, he got excited. He touched Angus' beard and said a word, then touched his and said another. After a few tries we got it right. I then went to a red flower and tried the same. He understood immediately. In their language, the adjective followed the noun.
I then stroked his member and said, "cock." He then gave me his word. He explained this to his men and they laughed. Their language had some sounds that our language didn't, and I soon realized, his language was lacking "r", but we both knew we would eventually be able to communicate.
They wanted us to go with them, so we followed them into the thick jungle. We penetrated deep into the wilderness. The sun was high when we went into a cave. After fifty or sixty meters of darkness the cave got lighter and we emerged into a valley. As soon as we entered, we came upon a circular cluster of raised platforms shelter by thatched roofs. Twenty or thirty men came out to look at us. There was hushed silence
The Big Man led us to the largest of the platforms. A white bearded man sat there. He was obviously the headman, or chief. He stood as the Big Man walked up. The Big Man took the Chief's cock into his hand, peeled back the foreskin and then sucked the exposed cock head. After a second or two they talked. After a while they motioned for us to come forward.
I did as the Big Man had done. The Chief was oozing precum. He had a very wide cum slit and I got my tongue in it licking up his home brew. Carlo greeted him next and did the same. When it was Angus's turn, the Chief `s cock got rock hard. I saw the Chief was equipped like a bull. He was so hairy it was hard to identify where the hair stopped and the cock started.
The Chief's foreskin was hairy and visually merged with his bush. His gigantic, flared cock head was a pale purple-lavender. Angus leaned over and licked the underside of the Chief's cock where the foreskin joined the head. I realized Angus was no newcomer to gay sex. His tongue caressed the tender underside of the cock.
The Chief shot off in seconds. The Chief must have had a huge load, he twitched and shivered at each ejaculation. Great globs of cum shot into my mouth. I was surprised an elderly man was so sexually charged. All of the men burst into excited chatter. Once these introductions were made, the tribe gathered around us looking us over and poking at us in a good-natured way.
After a few minutes of this, I cupped one of the men's balls and then stroked his cock. This was just the right thing to do. The man smiled and looked pleased. It turned out, playing with cocks was expected and simple good manners.
There were no women or children present, and there was no sign of them anywhere. It was an all male village. I recalled from somewhere in the back of my mind cultures where the men and women lived in separate villages. This arrangement was common when population control was a priority.
An isolated small island would make a small population a necessity. Some cultures killed unwanted, or excess children. There is a theory that cannibalism might be a response to protein shortages and excess population. The men seemed to be obsessed with male genitalia, and were more than open about their sexual interests.
To these men fondling genitals was the equivalent to shaking hands to be replaced on more formal occasions by licking or sucking the cock head. Sex seemed to be the primary form of entertainment.
The Big Man assigned men to be our guides. He and the Chief took Angus. Carlo got the middle-aged men and four or five of the younger men took me off with them to their lodge. The younger men weren't as hairy as the elders, and I got a better sense of their physical characteristics. They had long trunks and short legs. If it weren't for the short legs, they would have been tall men. Most had narrow waists and broad shoulders. As they aged, it appeared their chests filled out and they became barrel-chested. The heads were massive, with an overhanging brow. All had brown eyes.
All had very large balls in hairy ball sacks.
It was hard for me to judge age. As is the case in most primitive peoples, I assumed a boy became a man at puberty when his genitals became full grown. We had figured out naming. Apparently Pete was a funny name in their language, since most of them giggled when someone called my name. The Chief was Tanus, and the Big Man was TaTanus, which meant Tanus junior. Families shared the same name, with different prefixes indicating their relationship, first born, second born, etc.
The youngest of the boys with me were OnTanus and DeTanus. They were the Big Man's first and second born sons, and the grandson's of the chief. OnTanus was a non stop talker, and I began to make headway understanding their language.