Lexxie and the Pirates and Deviant-Boy
(A Completely Fabricated Story of Destiny)

Part 2

As Told by Lexxie Couper

Warning - Contains Adult Sexual Content That May Offend


Lexxie and the Pirates and Deviant-Boy
A Story of Destiny

As Told by Lexxie Couper


You know what it’s like to crash into the ocean?
No, me either. Captain Schlong and I crashed into a copse of palm and eucalypt trees. None of that romantic dragging ourselves out of the surf, wet clothes clinging to our nubile bodies like a transparent second skin. No, we dragged ourselves from a beat-up Cessna 340 amid splintered trees, severed leaves and twisted metal. There is nothing romantic about crashing onto a deserted island, I can tell you, no matter how lush and tropical and beautiful.
We picked our way through the dense growth, swatting at mozzies and wiping at the stinging sweat dripping from our faces. This is not, as I’ve pointed out before, how I like to get hot and sweaty, and at this point of the situation I wasn’t sure which pathetic male I detested the most: Captain Schlong for not being able to keep his dick in his pants, or my moronic cousin for laying the challenge in the first place. The idea of detesting myself didn’t enter my mind; sure I had picked my pilot based on the sizable bulge in his Levi’s but what women in her right mind wouldn’t? The dawn of feminism wasn’t just about burning bras! It was empowerment! About equality! It was about perving on hunky male bodies whenever we damn well wanted! And yes, I had accepted my cousin’s challenge when I didn’t need to. I didn’t need to prove him wrong to feel good about myself, but – and it will always be my failing – I cannot, as I’ve said, resist a challenge. This one was just turning out to be more of a challenge than first intended.
It didn’t help that Wonder-Dick was still trying to convince me his cock was the only hope of rescue. To this day, I’m not sure how he thought fucking me would get us out of our hideous predicament. Perhaps he thought my screams of ecstasy would be so loud the Australian Coast Guard would hear and come a-running (or a-boating, as the case is). Whatever his logic, I still had my glock and there wasn’t a ten foot pole in sight, so he was out of luck.
It was while attempting to climb over one particularly vicious fallen eucalypt trunk, the Cessna’s burning corpse baking our backs, that the day took it’s third bad turn. I tripped.
“Shit!”
So there I was, sprawled over a dead tree larger than Godzilla’s donger, my ass shoved upwards, wet white short-shorts plastered to it, my feet dangling off the ground and – and this is where it gets worrying, Dear Readers – Captain Schlong standing right behind me.
“Awright!” I heard him shout, two seconds before I heard his fly unzip.
There was no denying it. I was in trouble.
“Oi!” I snarled, trying like hell to regain my feet in a lethally intimidating move and instead coming off like a scuttling bug stuck on a twig. “This is NOT an invitation!”
Wonder-dick however, didn’t seem to be listening.
I had two options. Twist around and shoot him (I still held my glock, fortunately, and the idea was very tempting), or go with the flow. As I’ve already pointed out, the guy was hung like a hippo. Hopefully he’d pass out from the rapid loss of blood in his brain before I’d even get a nudge. My grip on my gun tightened. I was going with Option A.
I twisted around, still doing my very realistic stuck-bug impersonation and leveled the gun at his heaving, naked and sweaty chest. “Listen, Mate,” I narrowed my eyes, “Take one more step and I –“
And that was when the dead tree moved.
Downwards.
Quickly.
With a loud and sharp splintering crack.
Damn it!
I hit the ground in a painful thud, Captain Schlong lost his footing (yeah, right) and landed on my back, his freakish cock ramming against my butt like a jack hammer on steroids, and somewhere off in the distance a Kookaburra burst into hysterical laughter.
Oh, and I dropped my glock.
Shit.




Lexxie