1. The Island, Chapter 27


    Date: 3/6/2016, Categories: Fiction, Asian, Black, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Erotica, Group Sex, Interracial, Lactation, Male / Females, Masturbation, Author: Paperbackwriter, Rating: 92.5, Source: sexstories.com

    last of the clouds passed over the island, the remainder of the sky shone a clear cerulean blue, promising fair weather for the remainder of the day. Rain and Stu began reinflating the raft, and a couple of the cheerleaders untied the goats, letting them wander the beach again at will. I was silently congratulating ourselves for weathering the storm when Jared ran up, wild-eyed and breathless. “Dave!” he screamed. “Help! Mom’s in trouble!” “What?” I asked, alarmed. “What happened?” “We were coming around the far side of the mountain when the rain started. A whole section of the cliff slid off into the ocean and my mom slid partway down the slope. She’s stuck on a ledge and I’m afraid she might fall onto the rocks below.” The poor kid was crying and seemed pretty terrified. I quickly recruited Dkembe, Christopher, and Stu to collect as much cord, line, and usable vines we could scrounge up on the beach. I snagged the chunk of fishing net I had found on the other beach, figuring it might come in handy. Together we followed Jared, running down the game trail and past the area where I had found the chickens. Past the small cave the land sloped upward as it wrapped around the south side of the larger mountain. It became so steep I could see how the soil would be vulnerable to landslides, especially when wet. There was very little tree cover on the slope at this point, and erosion had taken its toll, with large swathes of terrain simply broken off and tumbled down into the sea, ...
    which was at least 50 feet below us. As we inched our way closer to the cliffs at the extreme southern end, Jared began calling for his mom. “Here!” we heard her faint cry, and made our way to where we could see down. I lay on my belly, with Dkembe holding my ankles just in case, and leaned out as far as I dared over the edge. About 10 feet down, on a narrow ledge, Janie crouched, dirty and bedraggled. “Are you hurt?” I asked anxiously. “No, just a little scratched up,” she assured me. “But I don’t know how long this ledge is going to last; chunks keep falling into the ocean. And I can’t climb up, it just crumbles.” She looked calm, but a little stressed. “No worries, we’ve got you covered.” I conferred with my fellow rescuers, and we decided to lower the fishing net over the side as sort of a rope ladder. Before Janie climbed it, Stu suggested we lower some vines braided together into a rope, and have her tie it around her waist. “I’ve done some climbing, man,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust just one rope. That net’s pretty old. We should have a backup.” It sounded like a good idea, so we quickly wove a rope from the vines we had brought, and it proved to be just long enough for Janie to wrap it around herself once and tie it to itself. While she did that, we tied another two vines to the edge of the net and lowered it over the cliff, letting it hang about 3 feet off the ledge. Janie began climbing slowly, testing the rope fibers gingerly as she scaled the wall of dirt and rock. I ...
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