He tumbles over the edge first, erupting with fat jets of semen, and I let myself release. I pump hard, shooting my load as our dicks throb against each other, and my entire body becomes a convulsing mass of pleasure.
When I come back to reality, Elliot is collapsed against my sticky chest, and we’re both breathing heavily. I’m dizzy, and my limbs all feel like lead. I could pass out right here.
Elliot rolls off of me, his hands in his hair. “Holy shit,” he says up to the sky. “That was intense. I feel like the earth is shaking beneath me.” He sits up a little, hand on the sand. “Is it?”
I shake my head as I rise. “No, but I know what you mean.” I’m in a daze, and it’s like the evening is floating around me. When I recenter and look down, I see the mess of sand and pebbles and cum that covers my dirty body.
“Okay,” I say and struggle to my feet. “I need to rinse off.”
Elliot gets up and follows me into the water. “You good?”
When I turn back to him, he’s standing with one hand over his tattooed bicep, his head tilted to the side.
He looks particularly handsome in the soft gray light, and a protective urge flickers in me. Like in every other aspect of our relationship, I’m drawn to take care of Elliot, and I feel that now as strong as a need.
“I’m great,” I say. “How are you?”
Elliot nods. “Hell yeah. That was fucking hot.”
I half-smile as I turn back to the water, walking straight in. At least he’s not immediately regretting his hookup with an older man. After dipping my head under, I start brushing sand off my body in the rain.
Elliot appears beside me. I turn to face him, and he offers me one of the pumice stones.
I swallow as I take it. “Thanks,” I say.
The rain slows, and we clean ourselves silently in the waves. I put my thoughts back together as we do, processing the choice I just made, and where we should go from here.
Elliot and I are compatible, and we have chemistry. That doesn’t make this a smart idea, though. We need to be emotionally careful in these dire circumstances. Not to mention how much energy we just expended. Energy that could well be used make rescue signals.
Although I haven’t felt this good in days. And it’s nice to look at Elliot and feel a twitch of something different, an emotion that helps lift my spirits.
When we join back up, walking to the shore, I address the matter directly.
“That was unexpected,” I tell him. “I don’t regret it, but I want to make sure it doesn’t lead to any problems between us. We’ve likely missed our ride out of here, which means we need to be more strategic than ever.”
We each gather up our clothes.
“Sex is strategic,” Elliot says. “If we’re going to be stuck here longer, orgasms will sustain us.”
I swallow. I hadn’t gotten my brain to process the possibility of this continuing, and I take a moment to catch up.
“Or it could distract us,” I point out. “And lead to a complicated emotional situation.”
“Being castaway together is already a complicated emotional situation,” he offers. “I don’t want to do anything that will make this more difficult, either. But for my end, I can handle the idea of being stranded here a lot better if it involves sex like that.”
A flush goes over my chest. It feels nice that he’s so into me. I hadn’t expected that.
We start back toward the shelter, veering toward the creek path first.
“We’re not capable of making any real commitment while starving and doomed,” I say. “And I don’t typically look for relationships that are purely physical. Although I suppose that’s all I can offer now.”
“I’m good at casual sex,” Elliot says. “I’m ultimately looking for love, but I don’t get horny and confused about my feelings from a few handies.”
“Not that anything from our past lives has much bearing here,” I point out.
Elliot laughs. “That’s true. You’re my first desert island boyfriend.”
We scramble up some rocks, and I feel again how heavy my legs are. When we reach the creek, Elliot sits beside a tree, and I place my hands on my knees while I catch my breath.
