Date: Wed,  6 Dec 2006 06:09:44 -0500 (EST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@excite.com>
Subject: Marooned

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.