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[Insider] Island Story - Alpha Draft
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 19:09:45 +0000 UTCHey all, been a little under the weather lately. Missed the target by a bit here but I'm excited to share this one with you all. The story follows below but I'd love some input on the title. I have some ideas listed below but feel free to chime in with some better ones.
Once you read the story, I'd love any feedback here. The length is a little longer than I typically aim for with a short story but I can only think of things to add vs cutting:
Title ideas:
Stranded Heat
Wrecked Desires
Castaway Cravings
Uncharted Touch
Here's the tale:
Stacy sighed as her son flun himself into the window seat. He was already on his phone on Snapchat messaging his friends elsewhere on the plane. As interested as he was in the girls in his class, his father still had a lot to teach him.
Stacy hefted her carry on suitcase over her head, into the plane’s overheard storage bin. She turned it on and angle and pushed but it didn’t slid into the space. She turned it awkwardly as she attempted to shove it in again. It didn’t budge. Her cheeks flushed, knowing there was a long line of students, chaperones and other passengers waiting for her.
“Jesus Christ,” the person in the aisle behind her muttered. With both her hands on her luggage, Stacy was shoved forward as someone crammed passed her. She felt the body press against her, pinning her to the side of her seat. Her head spun to look over her shoulder at the grungy, pot-marked face of one of her son’s classmates pressing into her. He wore a faint smirk under his greasy hair as he pushed passed her, shoving his crotch into her backside.
“Hey! Excuse me,” Stacy snapped but the guy was already passed her, trudging down the aisle way. Stacy looked around incredlously. She looked at the next person waiting in the aisle behind her. An equally greasy looking guy a foot shorter than the other and wider around the waist. He awkwardly diverted his eyes from hers, looking at the ceiling with an intense interest. He wore a wrinkled band t-shirt that said ‘Rancid’ and oversized combat boots. Stacy sighed, not finding anyone to share in her outrage. She took out her anger on her suit case and shoved it hard. It pressed the other suitcases in the bin to the side and slid in.
“Some of the kids in your class are assholes,” Stacy muttered as she took the middle seat next to her son.
“There aren’t any kids on the trip mom,” Ethan said, “We’re all adults, they wouldn’t let anyone under eighteen come on the trip.”
“I know,” Stacy huffed, settling in, “Still some of them are just rude and act like children. Like that guy.” She pointed towards the head of the greasy guy who had pushed against her as he stuffed a worn duffle bag into the overheard compartment further down the fusilaoge.
Ethan followed her finger, “Yeah Rhetts still an asshole but at least pubirty did a number on his face.”
“That’s Rhett? Rhett Mercer?” Stacy said looking at the young man. She hadn’t heard that name in years. Not since Ethan’s bullying incidents in middle school had ceased. Rhett had been a terror to her son to the point where she and her husband Rich had to step in and demand the administration do something. The last she’d heard Rhett had been expelled and that had been the end of it. “I thought he got expelled.”
“He did Mom. From middle school. He’s been at school since grade nine,” Ethan breathed looking at the ground crew out the window.
“Really? You never told us,” Stacy said, “Is he still, you know….”
“Dunking my head in the toliet? No. Mostly he just smokes under the back stairway at school and skips class but he still has his shining moments,” Ethan said putting in his airpods. Stacy could tell that her son wanted to change the subject. There was something else going unsaid that he wanted to avoid. She knew better than to press it right now, not when they were surrounded by his classmates who might overhear thing.
Instead she decided to switch subjects, “Did you pack your inhaler?”
Ethan sighed, put his head back on the headrest and looked at her, “You know I have my inhaler. You made sure I packed it. And we have like a bunch of refills in my carry-on.”
Stacy smiled and put her hand on her son’s knee, “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just being extra worried. It’s not everyday my son takes a trans-atlantic flight to Australia. We’re gonna be gone for almost two weeks.”
Ethan shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at his phone, “You know I love you, right? But you’re really gonna mess up my game, you know that right? None of the girls are going to want to hang around when my chaperone mom is around.”
“Oh come on. It won’t be that bad, you won’t even know I’m there. I’ll just be lurking in the shadows watching as you clumsily try to talk to members of the opposite sex,” Stacy laughed, poking Ethan in the ribs.
“Ew Mom gross. Don’t say sex. I’m still convinced I’m a test tube baby and you and Dad never enagegd in coitus,” Ethan visbly shivered, “Even if you aren’t around you’re presence will still be felt.”
“Yeah right, it’ll be fine,” Stacy said taking out her own phone.
“No it won’t. It’s going to be a sauage fest around me. Like a forcefield of sausage. No girl will want to get close to that much sausage.”
“What the hell are you talking about Ethan?” Stacy shook her head.
“What I’m saying is that half the guys in my class have already checked you out. I’m getting snaps about how hot my blonde mom is. They’re already making plans to spend all their time around me becasue ergo you are going to be around me the whole trip,” Ethan said.
“I’m sure you’re exagerating dear,” Stacy said but couldn’t help but smile inwardly. She knew that even on the cusp of forty, she still looked damn good. Hours spent in the gym and a complicated regime of moistoers and serums ensured that. Still, it was flattering to hear she could still turn so many heads.
“Believe me, you don’t want to see the group chat,” Ethan said, pressing the play button on his phone screen. He turned to window as his Airpods played looking just as mature as he had a few years ago. So much for being an adult.
Stacy sent a text to her husband Richard, letting him know they are boarded and waiting to take off. Once everyone was boarded and she had a random seatmate on the aisle, Stacy slid a steamy romance novel out of her purse and eagerly dug back into it.
***
Stacy’s stomach lurked, forcing her awake. Wind raked across her face as she spun. Her eyes snapped open locking on the oxygen mask dangling in front of her. She scrambled for it, before pulling it over her face, ripping out some of her hair in the process. She grabbed Ethan’s and pulled it down towards him, he was out cold next to her a large gash running across his forehead, leaking blood down his face.
She put the mask on him and pressed her hand against his head, trying to stem the blinding. She didn’t know what was happening but her brain finally registed the panicked screams of the passengers around her. It wasn’t just turbulence, the plane was spinning out of control.
An overhead bin a few rows ahead of her abruptly opened on its own. A blue hardshell carry on fell out of it and flew across the aisle, landing on a man’s head with a sickening crunch. That’s when Stacy noticed an entire section of the fuseloge wall missing, blue daylight streaking into the cabin as the plane continued to spin.
Something changed. The plane shifted mid-air and a metalic whine echoed through the cabin. It was so lound if made her wince and take her hand off Ethan’s wound to cover her own ears. Stacy’s eyes widened as the front half of the plane tore apart. Metal screamed in protest under the forces hitting plane and the front section rocked then spun away from them, spinning like a top off into the sky.
Stacy’s stomach lurked again as she saw the people. Bodies failing widly in the open air. Entire rows of seats, still full of people spinning out of control, falling freeling.
Their section of plane lurched again. Pain spread throug the back of her head and everything went dark.
***
Richard couldn’t take his eyes off the TV. His daughter Ava was crying into his shoulder, unable to watch the news anchors talk about the missing PacificWet plane. He took in the details in dull and detached.
The transponder had been turned off or damaged. The flight had already been well off course before then. The pilots were unresponsive to radio calls. Then it just disappeared.
He watched the CEO of the airlines committing to finding the plane. Promsing to do all he could and working with local and international bodies. Richard did the only thing he could and held onto his daughter, trying not to let the well of emotions inside of him burst and overwhelm him.
Husband at home with daughter, watching the new, short scene, plane crash, unknown
***
Something warm was on her face. In a daze, Stacy reached up and touched her forehead. It came back sticky and wet. She forced her eyes open, blinking. Three red hands filled her vision. She blinked again, her brain trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The three hands slowly shifted together until one remained covered in something red. Blood.
Stacy’s mind jolted. She tried to get up but couldn’t move. Were her legs broken? Was she paralyzed? What happened? Where was she? Her heart raced as she struggled, paniciking. The sun was bright, blinding her. Heat washed over her senses as she tried to move. The ringing in her ears was so intense she felt the urge to vomit. Sand was everywhere, as far as she could see. Stacy squinted and saw bodies strewn all over the beach ahead of her, bloody and battered.
Where was she? She looked down at herself and didn’t understand why she was strapped to a chair. It clicked in her brain. She was buckled to a chair from a plane that was half embedded in the sand. She struggled with the buckle but unclasped it, falling onto the burning sand.
“Ethan!” Stacy screamed weakly as she got to her feet. A man ran past her carrying a beach towel. He dropped next to an older woman and pressed the towel to the stump where he leg used to be.
“Help!” The man screamed, “Someone help us!”
Stacy stepped forward to help but stopped. She didn’t know what to do. How to help. And she needed to find Ethan. She needed to find her son. She started running. Any direction would do as long as it was forward momemtum. She ran past the older woman missing the leg, down the beach. A few people just sat in the burning sand in shock, other wandered aimlessly. Others weren’t so fortunate.
Down the beach she saw part of the fuselage, half in the water. Smoke billowed from it and Stacy could see the flames dancing through the windows. It was only then that the smell hit her. The smell of burning metal and charred meat. Stacy heaved and emptied her stomach out onto beach.
“Mrs. Hart!” a man she didn’t recognize yelled. Her eyes locked on the man near the treeline. For the first time she notices the tall trees lining the beach. But the important detail was that the man was kneeling next to a body. It couldn’t be…
She ran towards them, each step heavy with the rising realization that it was Ethan’s body lying on its back. She dropped to her knees next to him.
“I don’t know what to do. I found him like this, what do we do?” the words spilled out of the blubbering man. Stacy felt her whole would collapsing in on her. But then a faint wheezing gave her a renewed sense of hope.
“Ethan? Ethan?” Stacy said scrambling up to her son. His chest was rising and falling weakly. Stacy scopped him up in her arms, cradling him.
“M..mom?” He wheezed, eyes weakly fluttering open. She held him, eyes darting around the sand looking for his bag.
“I’m right here. I’ve got you. Do you have your inhaler? Where is it?” Stacy said trying to inject calm into her voice. Trying to be the rock her son needed.
“I…uhhm….don’t” he wheezed, struggling to form words.
“Shh. Don’t talk. Sorry. Just focus on me. Focus on breathing,” Stacy said, putting a hand on his chest and doing the breathing exercises she was taught when he was younger, “Just focus on my breath. Breath with me, okay? You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
She kept her eyes focused on her son’s face. He closed his eyes and she felt his breathing snap out of the erratic pattern it had been in. He still wasn’t out of the woods but this was the first part of him getting it under control.
Movement out of the corner of her eyes grabbed her attention. The bald, bearded man was still hovering there, staring out her. She couldn’t make out his expression. Part of it was shock, another part awe but another part of it made her feel uncomfortable.
“Can you go look for his inhalers? He had a black Nike backpack. His carry on was a black Samsonite,” Stacy said. It took the man a moment to snap out of his trance, his eyes immediately going to the burning husk of the plane up the beach.
***
Rhett flung open the black carry-on, tossing the clothes out onto the ground. Everyone on the beach was pankicing but here in the cover of the trees, Rhett could ransack the luggage for anything useful before they noticed. While everyone scrambled, he did what his uncle had taught him to. Survive.
This carry-on was looking like a bust. He jammed in hands through it until he pulled out a hard-shell case. Inside were a half dozen tubes that looked like they belonged to an inhaler. Rhett zipped it back up and shoved it into his duffel bag, careful not to crush mini-bottles full of alcohol he had raided from the plane’s beverage trolley.
Rhett left the luggage and moved on. He bushed past a burning corpse and scanned the beach for more luggage. He wished he’d been able to get more out of the plane before the fire really started to take hold. Still, the other half of it might be further inland, full of potential treasure.
“Help! Please help us,” A woman tugged on his pant leg snapping Rhett out of his survey of the beach. He looked down at a helpless old lady, next to an unconcious older man. Her makeup was streaked with tears, she looked up at him desperate, “Please, its my husband. His stomach…”
Rhett’s eyes followed the woman’s to the large gash on the man’s stomach, blood was spurtting out of it with every breath.
“Please help him,” the woman pleaded.
Rhett’s eyes found something more interesting lying on the beach next to the man. He kicked his leg, freeing himself from the pathetic woman’s grasp.
“Well don’t mind if I do,” Rhett sneered. Help the old man? He was as good as dead. Just like she’d be. He’d rather help himself. He picked up the damaged pelican case half sticking out of the sand. Luckily for him, the damage had cracked the lock. He snapped it open.
“Please! Young man please!,” the woman’s drones continued. He pushed them out of his mind as his eyes focused on the cool, black pistol secured inside the case, alongside two magazines of ammunition.
“Get help!,” the woman screamed at him.
“Help yourself,” Rhett rolled his eyes and continued his trek of the beach in search of more loot and a place to stash it.
***
“How’s he doing,” Jon asked. Stacy looked up at the bearded man and sighed.
“He’s doing okay, he’s resting. His breathing is better but I’d feel a lot better we found his inhaler,” Stacy motioned to her son lying in the shade of the treeline. There were other people around them now, sitting away from the hot beaches and the harsh sun. Some were awake, other were unconcious with different wounds. The people of the plane had done their best to help whoever they could but there were still more unrespnosive bodies scattered across the beach.
Most of Ethan’s classmates were missing and unaccounted for. Thankfully a few of the teachers and a big group of students had found them amongst the trees and had set up nearby. There had also been a doctor on board who was trying to help as many people as he could. Jon, the bearded guy was actually a parent chaperon just like her.
Stacy put her hand on Ethan’s just to help steady her son’s breathing.
“Does anyone know where we are? What’s going on?” Stacy said to Jon without taking her eyes off her son.
“No idea. We can’t find a pilot or any of the stewardess. We think they must have been…in the front section when it broke off. Or the back section…” Jon trailed off before finding the courage to speak again, “Everyone’s in shock. They’re just doing what they can. Trying to get people out of the sun. The doctor is trying to help people but he’s quitely already priotizing those he can actually save. The rest…well….you know.”
Stacy nodded grimly.
“Hey!” a young woman yelled from nearby. She stood up and was pointing down towards the beach, “That’s my bag.”
Stacy followed the girl’s finger and saw two men walking on the sand. One carrying a blue carry one, the other a pink one. It was Rhett, her son’s torementor and that pudgy kid in the rancid t-shirt from the plane.
“That’s my bag!” the girl demanded marching over to them. When she got close, Rhett dropped the bag and pushed the girl to the ground. Stacy was too far way to hear what was being said but several nearby men rushed over to help. As they got closer, Rhett drew a gun from the back of his waistband and brandished it at the gathering crowd.
Stacy instcinvely hunched over Ethan to shield him from any stray bullets. Jon was a beat slower than her, not realizing what was happening before throwing himself to the ground.
The crowd stepped back letting Rhett and his lackey leave with the two carry-ons.
The girl came back crying, followed by the rest of the group.
“Fucking vulture,” one of them said.
“What’s happening?” Stacy asked, still hunched over her unconcious son.
“That lttile prick,” a man said crossing his arms. Stacy recognized him. He had a dark complextion, well built and close cropped hair. He was one of the teachers from the trip. “I was so glad he was gonna be out of our hair next year but now we gotta deal with this shit.”
“What happened?” Stacy said louder.
“Fucking Rhett,” the male teacher said. “Stole her bag. Filled it with stuff from the beach.”
“What kind of stuff?” Stacy asked.
“No idea but while the rest of us have been trying to keep people alive that little fucker has been stealing from us.”
“What do you mean stealing?” another upset voice asked.
“There’s luggage opened all over the beach!” a woman with sandy blonde hair said, “they don’t just open in a plane crash. Someone had to go through them.”
“It could have been one of us,” another chimed in, “Looking for clothes of make a tornquiet or something.”
“I saw him. Him and his little punk friend going through them. Grabbing stuff and leaving the rest,” a short man chimed in.
“He left my Derek to die,” an older woman sobbed, “Wouldn’t even help us. Told me to help myself. He just let Derek lay there and die. What kind of person does that?”
“We should do something about it,” Jon said. Stacy got the impression he was only speaking to sound brave and impress her. Like he wanted to contribute to the group but didn’t really have anything worthwhile to bring to the table.
“How do you purpose we do that?” the male teacher said crossing his arm. “He found a gun. Unless we find one too I don’t see that happening. And I don’t want to see us startting some kidn of firefight and making our situation worse than it has to be.”
“We can’t just let him get away with all of our stuff!” the women whose pink bag had been stolen said, “You’re his teacher right? Can’t you do something.”
The teacher frowned, “Rhett’s never been what you call a good student. He’s an asshole on the best of days. He doesn’t even do the bare minimum. He’s just been waiting to turn eighteen to start cashing welfare cheques. The only reason he hasn’t dropped out yet is because his Uncle’s beats him if he misses school. I’ve been trying to get him expelled for over a year.”
“So, like can you do something or not?” the girl with the luggge asked again.
“I’ll try but I’m not hopeful,” the dark-skinned teacher said.
Ethan wheezed under Stacy. She focused back on her son, trying to help him as best she could, letting the conversation drift into the background.
***
With the moon high in the sky, the day’s heat had receded leaving a cool night in it’s wake. Stacy hadn’t left Ethan’s side. His breath was still labored but he was asleep. The doctor had come by to check on him. Thankfully, her son didn’t have any serious injuries but the doctor had stressed that it was critical for him to get his inhaler. Jon was hovering around them but he at least had gone up and down the beach in search of their luggage and the inhalers.
Unforunately he hadn’t been able to find any. He did manage to locate their luggage but the inhaler catridges were missing. Stacy’s heart dropped at the news. She knew where they were.
The survivors of the plane crash had set up a makeshift camp under the covers of the trees. A few small fires had been lit with students, teachers, and other passangers huddled around them. Several of Ethan’s friends had set up close by, casting worried expressions in her sons’ direction.
The dark skinned teacher, Mr. Drake hadn’t been happy to learn of the missing inhaler catridges. Most of the other passengers had come to him with similiar compliants, of missing items when they finally found their luggage.
He went off with a group of other passengers, including Jon to try and talk with Rhett and his lackey, the boy in the rancid t-shirt named Trent Mullin. Unforunately it hadn’t gone as planned.
When the group came back, Mr. Drake had a t-shirt pressed to his forehead, applying pressure to a head wound. Apparently Trent had thrown a rock at him while Rhett held the group at gunpoint.
Rhett had set up his own camp with his friend in a cave further inland. It hadn’t been hard for the group to find it with the fire raging inside and their loud, boisterious laughs. According to the group, the cave was full of supplies from the plane; water bottles, first aid kids, alcohol, piles of bras and underwear and anything else that could prove useful to the larger group of passengers. The little shit was hording everything. While everyone else had been focused on helping their fellow passengers, Rhett and his cretenious follower had ransacked everything else.
“We need to go back,” Jon said in a low voice from a nearby fire. He was talking with Mr. Drake and some of the other men in the group, “Overwhelming force. We can go in a few hours once they both fall asleep.”
“He has a gun,” the doctor chimed in, “I don’t have anything to treat a gun shot wound. If anyone gets shot they’ll join the rest of those bodies on the beach.”
“Maybe if we can find another way into the cave,” someone else said, “We can sneak up on them.”
“We’re not going to go stumbling around the jungle in the middle of the night looking for another cave entrance,” Mr. Drake said. “We don’t know what else is out there on this island. It might not be safe. There could be poisonous snakes for all we know.”
“Besides,” the doctor added in again, “You’re just as likely to fall and trip down an embankment, twist your ankle or worse. It’s better to wait until morning. But I still don’t approve of charging headfirst at someone with a fire arm.”
“Well what do you suggest we do then?” Another man said.
“Yeah. We need what they got. Just look at that boy over there wheezing on the ground,” Jon said, “He need his medicen and those assholes have it.”
Stacy felt the eyes of the group fall on her for a few seconds but she didn’t look up.
“What do you think doc?” Mr. Drake said, “How’s the boy’s condition.”
“He’s stable but he’ll need his inhaler. He won’t be able to breath normally without it. The stress of the situation and all of the allergons on this island. He is one panic away from not being able to breath. If something happens like say, I don’t know, a gun going off sending everyone running, he could very well not make it.”
Ice ran through Stacy’s veins. She tried to put the idea of her son dying out of her mind. All his life, since he was just a little guy his panic attacks and his inability to catch his breath had terrified her. And now she was trapped on a deserted island with no medicine. But that wasn’t entirely right. There was medicine, she just didn’t have it.
“How’s he doing?” a young woman’s voice asked. One of the girls from the group of classmates at the nearby fire had wandered over. She sat down next to Ethan and looked down at him. Stacy could see the concern in her eyes as well as the affection she had for her son. Ethan hadn’t mentioned a girl but this one clearly had a thing for him.
“He’s okay, for now,” Stacy said, “But he needs his medicine.”
“Rhett. That asshole. I can’t believe he’s hoarding everything. He doesn’t even need it.” the girl wiped a tear from her eye before covering it with a infectious smile, “Sorry. I’m Summer by the way.”
The young woman held out a hand and Stacy shook it, “Stacy. Ethan’s mom. Obviously. It’s nice to meet you.”
“When do you think they are going to rescue us?” Summer asked.
“I don’t know,” Stacy said, “Hopefully soon.”
She looked at the fuseloge up the beach, at the fire that was still burning inside of it. Smoke billowed up into the sky. “The smoke from the plan must be like a mile high. There’s no way someone won’t see it.”
“I hope your right,” Summer reached down and held Ethan’s hand, gently stroking the back of it.
***
It wasn’t until three nights later that doubt of an immediate rescue creep into Stacy’s mind. A gunshot had rang out earlier in the day when group had confront Rhett again. Luckily no one had been hurt but everyone was on edge afterwards.
It didn’t help that they were all starving. The meager amount of food that the group had managed to forage didn’t amount fo much. Summer sitting with Ethan again, like she did most nights. They were by the fire, talking in low voices.
Even from her vantage point, Stacy could see the weakness in her son’s shoulders as he breathed in and out. She had to get him his medicine or else he would end up just like the others. She shuddered, thinking about the man who had begun spurting up blood yesterday. The doctor had said there must have been internal bleeding, possibly a destoryed kidney and bladder. It wasn’t pretty. Thankfully they’d dragged the body out of the camp and onto the beach with the others.
Stacy scanned the group of survivors huddeled around the fires under the trees. No one was watching her. She took a step backwards and slipping into the darkness of the forest and headed towards Rhett’s cave.
She’d watched the other groups go there enough to find the general direction. It only took her half an hour before she heard the voices and saw the flickering of light through the trees. The cave was set out against a huge rock outcropping that lead into the hill behind it.
With a deep breath, Stacy straightened her clothes and her blonde hair, plastering on a confident, determined face and strolled up to the entrance.
“Shit someone’s coming,” a panicked voice said from inside. Stacy stepped into the entrance feeling the warm glow of the fire on her skin. Her eyes went wide at the sight. In the middle of the cave was a roaring fire. Behind it, piled against the walls of the cave were piles and piles of supplies, luggage, water bottles and an assortment of other things the survivors desperately needed. Off to one side there seemed to be a natural pool of fresh water.
What widened her eyes most of all was the barrel of the gun pointed right at her.
“What do you want hot cheeks?” Rhett said from behind the gun. Stacy couldn’t surpress herself from flinching back. She’d never had a gun pointed at her before.
“Can you…not point that at me? Please?” Stacy said feeling ashamed having to cower in front of someone almost half her age.
“No can do blondie,” Rhett sneered with his acene scared face. His eyes were calm and calculating. He regripped the gun, his finger resting squaring on the trigger, “What do you want?”
“I’m just here to talk, okay? You don’t need the gun,” Stacy said holding up her hands.
“She’s trying to honeypot you,” Trent Mullins whispered, coming to stand behind Rhett. He stood a head taller than Rhett and a few feet wider, with a small pale head and beaklike nose. His eyes were too close together and his old rancid t-shirt stretched to accomdate his frame.
Rhett wasn’t a prize either. He was taller than his friend. Taller than Stacy but probably not taller than her husband Richard. The young man’s face was scarred with acene, his forehad jutted out just a bit too far, eyesbrows unkept and he had the telltale patchy beard young men tried to grow to look older. Execept he didn’t know how to keep it neat. It ran from his cheeks, down to his neck in patches. It even connected to his hairline by his ears.
His hair was a greasy mess, spilling out over his forehead and dangling down the back of his neck in some kind of gross mullet. This was the guy who had tormented her son all through middle school and apparently hadn’t made his life in high school any easier. He had morphed into some kind of grungy, trailer park drug dealer. It wasn’t a good look on him, or anyone for that matter.
“Let me guess,” Rhett chuckled, “Black Captain America sent you in here to get me to let my guard down. Then him and his wanna be Avengers are gonna swoop in here and over power us and take all our shit back to the beach. Sorry double Ds but that ain’t gonna happen.”
“I’m here alone,” Stacy said, hands still up. Her pulse was beating in the vein on the side of her neck and she couldn’t look at the gun.
“Yeah, fucking right. You think I’m a fucking idoit too don’t you? It’s pretty fucking low for those pussies to send a woman in here. No balls of their own,” Rhett chuckled.
“I’m not with them. They didn’t send me. I came by myself,” Stacy said, trying to keep herself up right.
“Yeah? And why the fuck would you do that?” Rhett sneered.
“Because. My son. He needs his inhalers and I know you have them,” Stacy’s voice wavered. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Rhett cocked his head, gun still pointed at her. His eyes shifted from the opening of the cave behind her and ran over her body. Up her bare legs, over her jean shorts up over her tight tank top before settling on her eyes.
“You mean these?” Rhett asked and he kicked the hard shell black case near him. Stacy winced knowing how expensive and fragile the medince could be.
“Yes. Those. Please. My son is struggling to breathe without them. They won’t do you any good. Can I please just have them?” Stacy took a tentative step foward.
“Nu-uh,” Rhett said raising the gun again, “Take it easy there hotcakes. These are mine. I’ll say whether they’ll do me any good or not.”
He bent down and opened the case, keeping his gun levelled at Stacy. He found one of the inhaler canisters and gave it a quick look.
“See?” Stacy said, “It’s medication.”
“Can this get us high?” Rhett said looking at the canister. Trent chuckled from the corner.
“No. Its for my son’s asthma. It won’t get you high. It’s just to help him breath. It literally wouldn’t do anything for you.” Stacy begged.
“I don’t know. Might make an explosion if I threw it in a fire. Could be a good weapon,” Rhett muttered.
“Please. My son won’t surive here without them,” Stacy said.
“That isn’t a me problem legs,” Rhett said, his eyes trailing up Stacy’s long and slender legs, “Way I look at it, one less mouth to feed on this island means my chances just went up.”
Stacy bit her lip, wanting to lash out at this little shit. Doing anything to jeprodize her son’s life….she wanted to lung at him, stranggle that smug little look off his pimple infested face. But she stayed where she was, feet planted to the ground. Lashing out wouldn’t do her any good, “Please.”
“We’re going in circles here,” Rhett rolled his eyes, “Just who is your son anyways? It’s lucky both of you surviving. Lots of dead bodies out there.”
“Ethan Hart. I think you know him,” Stacy said.
A wide cheshire grin broke out on Rhett’s face. He raised his eyebows and for the first time, the gun dropped from aiming at her, “No fucking shit huh. Who knew Mr. Puff Daddy had a MILF for a mom.”
“Trent. Go stand guard outside,” Rhett said.
“But what if they’re out there?” Trent snivelled.
“They aren’t,” Rhett said, eyes locked onto Stacy.
“But what if–”
“They aren’t. And if they are they won’t do anything to you. They still just think we’re a highschool class that is lost waiting for rescue. They won’t do anything yet.” Rhett said.
“What are you gonna?” Trent said, edging past Stacy towards the door.
“Just have a nice friendly chat with the island MILF,” Rhett said. Trent muttered something and went out into the night.
“So will you give me medicine?” Stacy said.
“Heh, maybe. First what has Ethan told you about me?” Rhett said, gesturing with the gun as he spoke. He moved around the cave, slowly circling her. Despite the heat from the fire, Stacy felt goosebumps pop up on her skin.
“That your a bully and you’ve made his life hell in middleschool. Until you got suspended and changed schools,” Stacy said feelings his eyes crawl over her. Her stepped behind her and she felt him lightly grabb a strand of her hair and sniff it.
“What about high school?” Rhett said.
“He hasn’t said much. I didn’t even know you were in his school until the plane,” Stacy said honestly.
“Figures. He’s gotten better at keeping away from me.” Rhett stepped back towards the fire ruffling his messy hair. He put the gun down and exchanged it for one of the inhaler canisters, sliding it into the plastic housing. He pressed it down and the medicine wheezed out of it.
“Huh, one hundred more doses,” he said as he examined it. He pressed it down again, “Ninety Nine.”
“Stop. You’re wasting them,” Stacy said.
“They’re mine. I can do what I want with them,” Rhett shugged and pressed the button again.
“Please stop. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll help you get more stuff from the beach. I’ll…I’ll talk to.. Mr. Drake and others and figure something out…”
“There’s nothing to figure out. They just need to stay the fuck away from me and my cave,” Rhett sighed, “It looks this medine is staying with me.”
He pressed the button again, discharing another dose into the air, “Unless…”
“Unless what?” Stacy said tentatively. She watched a dark look spread across Rhett’s features.
“Unless you take that top off,” Rhett smirked and stared down at her tank top. Her breathing quickened, making her breasts rise and fall, the opposite of what she wanted to do in that moment.
Her mind raced. She’d known in the back of her head that things could go in this direction. She knew while still on the beach. Still, she’d hoped to get the medicine by having faith in moral decency. Someone people just didn’t have it. As this punk piece of shit looked at her, she couldn’t help but think of one of her trashy romance novels that revolved around a deserted island. It had really gotten her worked up while she read it.
Despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel a heat rising in her chest. The pimple scared, greasy punk in front of her way no where near the male character in the book. But there was something about this entire situation that was getitng to her. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
“You can’t be serious,” Stacy breathed.
“Deadly serious,” Rhett chuckled back as he pushed the button again dispelling more of the critial medicine.
<i>Little fucker. </i>
Stacy peeled off her tank top, freeing her large, bra clad breasts. She tossed threw the tank top defiantly on the cave floor. Putting one hand on her hip, she held the other out towards Rhett.
“Done. Give me the inhalers asshole,” Stacy snapped, trying to inject steel into her voice. Rhett’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared at her exposed skin.
Rhett finally tore his eyes from her breasts and looked into her eyes. He stepped forward, playing with the inhaler in one hand.
“You want this?” he gestured with the inhaler. She reached for it and he pulled it out of her reach.
“Then you’re gonna get on your knees and work for it,” Rhett breathed. Stacy’s nose crinkled at his breath. All of that looting, did he even take any toothpaste?
“I’m married and your over half my age,” Stacy said looking up at him, not wanting him to see her waver.
“That makes it even better,” Rhett said as one hand undid the button on his jean shorts. This asshole wasn’t going to give her the inhaler if she didn’t do this. She’d make it fast and get it over with. Fast enough that she could ignore the heat growing between her legs.
“If I do this, I get the inhalers? You promise?” Stacy asked.
“You’ll get this inhaler. Scout’s honor.” Rhett smirked.
“I want all of them,” Stacy said.
“I’m sure you do but today all that’s for sale is just this one,” Rhett said, “Take it or leave it.”
Stacy thought of her son, struggling to breath back on the beach. A shiver ran through her spine when she heard his pants unzipping. She was just glad she still had her shorts on so this punk couldn’t see how wet she was getting.
With defiant eyes locked on Rhett’s Stacy slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of him. His shit eating smile widened as his pants dropped, “Take it out.”
Her eyes were level with black boxers and the outline of his cock. She hesitated for a second and then resolved to finish this as fast as possible. She reached up, grabbed the waist band with both hands and tugged them down. A fat, long cock flopped out outlined by wild, scraggly pubic hair.
She sucked in a breath, staring at it. Watching it grow before her eyes. The heat between her legs intensified and she wondered how it would feel inside of her. Stacy pushed those thoughts to the back of her head. She reached out and grasped his cock at the base, amazed as it continued to grow longer.
“Like what you see?” Rhett muttered.
“It’s okay. My husband is bigger,” she lied.
Rhett mumbled something she couldn’t hear. She gripped his cock in her left hand and took him into her mouth. It tasted like salty sweat but her tongue ran under his cock, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. He groaned from above her and his body shook.
She smiled inwarldy at his lack of experience and how quickly she was going to get this done. With enough of her saliva coating his cock, she began to stoke him in earnest, sliding her hand up and down his shaft, squeezing it and rotating her wrist in the perfect way that she found her husband enjoyed.
Rhett groaned, letting his arms drop to his sides as he swayed on his feet. The inhaler dangled loosely just a few inches from her.
“That’s right Ethan’s mom, suck my cock. God your good at that,” Rhett muttered, “Bet you never thought you’d wrap those pretty marrieed little lips around the my cock.”
Stacy pulled her lips back off his cock and said, “I’ve never, once thought about your cock in my entire life.”
“But you will now,” Rhett chuckled, “Even if we get rescured tomorrow, every time you think about the island you’ll come back to this moment.”
Rhett started chuckled, “You know, I used to make your son’s life a living hell according to some teachers but this has got to top anything I’ve ever done to him. His own mom sucking my cock. Ha fuck that’s amazing.”
“You’re disgusting,” Stacy muttered, bent down and licked the unside of his cock up until the head and wrapped her lips around it again.
“Whatever,” Rhett said tucking in inhaler into his back pocket. He fished out a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He slid one out and lit it, groaning as he exhaled a puff of smoke into the cave.
“This is the life. A good dart, the beach, the ocean and a pretty milf sucking on my cock,” Rhett chuckled, “I love this isnald.”
Stacy continued to ignore him, focusing on his cock. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft, swirling her tongue over every inch of him while she pumped his shaft with her fist. She wanted to focus and get this done. She pulled his cock out of herm outh and dropped her head down, licking down his shaft until she found his balls.
His stringy pubic hair ticked her nose but she closed her eyes and pressed on, extending her tongue and swirling it around his ballsack. Her other hand joined her first, stroking his long, thick shaft. She was amazed that even with two hands wrapped around it, there was still more to it. She only needed one for Richard. It wasn’t fair that someone half her husband’s age could have a cock bigger and thicker.
“Ughhh,” Rhett moaned, eyes closed. When he opened them her snapped, “Dammit Trent, back to guard duty. Stop trying to peek in here you pervert.”
Stacy didn’t look over her shoulder. She kept lapping at Rhett’s balls and stroked his shaft. She could feel his cock pulsing in her hand, feeling his heartbeat. Even in just her booty shorts and bra, her body was on fire. She was too worked up. As the moved her body back and forth while she stroked him, she was intensly aware of the light friction of her panties pressing against her pussy and swollen clit. It felt good. Too good for the situation.
She tried to surpress her growing horniess, determined to ignore it and channel it into her blow job.
She lapped the underside of Rhett’s disgustinly hairy balls and returned up his shaft, stroking and licking as he went.
“Take your bra off,” Rhett groaned, “Show me those mom tits.”
“You’re fucking gross,” Stacy snapped back but let go of his cock, reaching behind her and unclasping her bra. Rhett drew in a breath as she let the straps fall and her breasts to spill out.
“There is god,” Rhett chuckled. Stacy rolled her eyes and put her hand back on his shaft. Just as she was about to wrap her lips around the head of his cock, Rhett said, “You’re nipples are hard. Whys that? Did I have that effect on you?”
“It’s a cold night,” Stacy shot back.
“A cold night next to a roaring fire. I call bullshit,” Rhett sneered.
“You can whatever you want. It doesn’t change anything,” Stacy shot back, finished with the conversation and took his cock back in her mouth.
But Rhett wasn’t done, “Oh it changes everything. You’re enjoying yourself. You love sucking cock, don’t you? Who know Ethan Hat’s mom was a little cocksucker.”
“Stop bringing up my son, its gross.” Stacy said.
Rhett gestured with one hand, zipping his lips and throwing away the key, “You got it boss. I wouldn’t wanna do anything to turn you off. No more Ethan talk. I want you revved up for me.”
Stacy rolled her eyes again. Rhett leered down at her with a predatory gaze.
“Hey, you know what milf stands for right?” Rhett said.
Stacy’s mouth was full of Rhett’s fat cock. She hands were working his shaft so she just responded with an, “Mmmm-hmmm.”
Rhett pushed on her foreheard pulling her off his cock, “What does it mean.”
“MILF?” Stacy asked staring up at him, still pumping his cock with both of her hands.
“Yeah, what does it mean. Say it,” Rhett demanded.
“Mother…”Stacy began slowly, putting on a sensual voice as she tugged and squeezed Rhett’s cock.
“Mother….”She repeated, “I’d…like….too…”
Rhett’s face was red. He was bucking his hips into her hands, his mind glued to every syllable she spoke.
Stacy licked her lips and looked up at her son’s bully with her best bedroom eyes and said, “Fuck.”
“Uh fuck thats right,” Rhett said stepping forward and spearing her mouth his cock. Stacy grabbed onto his shaft with both hands as Rhett pumped himself into her mouth. Her held the back of her head in place, pretty blonde mane wrapped into his fist.
Rhett gave no quarter as he face fucked Stacy’s married mouth. His cock slid in and out, over her tongue. Both of her hands gripped his cock, squeezing and pumping it. She had to awkwardly lean bac, Rhett had stepped so close to her she had to just take it.
“Uhhmmmm fuck yeah,” Rhett said, “I’m all pent up. I haven’t jerked off since before the crash. My balls as so fucking full bitch.”
“Mhmmmm,” Stacy responded back. The way he was ruthlessly face fucking her had her skin crawling with want. Her pussy was soaking her panties and she hated that this piece of shit bully was making her feel this way. Never in a million years back at home would she ever be in this position. She wouldn’t never feel any kind of want or desire for him. But out here in the jungle, in this cave, in this moment, she did. She fucking did and it disgusting her.
“Ah fuck. Fuck yeah, here it comes,” Rhett groaned. Stacy’s grip on his cock tightened and she sucked him hard while his cock pistoned in and out of her mouth.
Rhett went ridgid, his fist tightening on her hair causing a flash of pain in the back of skull. She felt his big balls heave and the pulsating in her palms wrapped around his cock. In her mouth the cock head grew bigger and then his hot, salty, sticky cum blasted into her mouth. Stacy nearing gagged on it, taking load after salty load into her pretty little mouth.
Rhett groaned like a triumpehnt lion as he emptied himself into Stacy. Finally, he stumbled back, his cock slick with her saliva and his cum. Stacy turned, coughed and spit his cum out onto the floor of the cave.
Rhett chuckled and leaned back against the wall, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He grabbed in inhaler out of his jean shorts, gave the button another squeeze and chucked it at Stacy. It hit the cold cave floor and bounced over to her.
“What the fuck?” Stacy said, annoyed as she quickly grabbed the inhaler, inspecting it for damage.
“Deal’s a deal. See I can be fair,” Rhett said.
Stacy grabbed her bra and her tank top and prompty turned to march out of the cave.
“Hey,” Rhett called back.
Stacy’s body froze. She was petrified he’d want more, while also desperately hoping to be touched by someone. She needed relief after that. When she looked back at Rhett, he was still leaning against the cave wall, cigarette in hand, large naked cock dangling deliciously between his legs.
“What’s your name?” Rhett said, “I don’t want to keep calling you Ethan’s mom.”
“Stacy,” she said, turning back towards the cave entrance. This time he didn’t stop her. She walked right out into the cold night and almost collidated with the short, fat Trent. His eyes went wide as he caught a glimpse of her naked breasts. Stacy felt mortified and held her bra and tank top over her chest as she marched back into the jungle towards camp.
Comments
Troy Sumrall
I liked the story can't wait for part 2
KB
Finish Neghborhood Encounters. This is lame
Eros
I’ll be honest — I voted for this story idea, but after reading it, I’m not impressed. For an alpha draft, it’s not badly written; Silver is clearly a talented writer and did a decent job technically. That said, I just don’t see the appeal without the husband being involved. Personally, I hope Silver decides to move on to something stronger. If I could suggest a direction, I think a more compelling premise would be something like this: the wife is a school aide, her husband the head of the science department, and their son a top student on the academic team — all under the husband’s leadership. She’s often left out, patronized by both her husband and son, and still quietly resentful that her own education ended early because of her pregnancy, a sacrifice she feels was never truly appreciated. Meanwhile, a troubled student — a school bully frequently sent to the principal’s office by her husband — starts to form a connection with her. Though she loves her family, she slowly becomes entangled in helping the bully get revenge on her husband and son.
Mark Albright
I wish the author would focus on TA and NE and quit dicking around with these little distractions. But he never even reads these comments, so I know I'm wasting my time
