Hi! My name is Wyatt, and I’m a pretty normal, straight, 27-year-old American male. At least, I always thought I was. Straight, that is. Now I’m not so sure.

Anyway, my best friend Connor and I decided to have an adventure. We rented a 30-foot sailboat out of the Bahamas and planned to sail it to Turks and Caicos. That’s only about 400 miles, and we figured at 8 knots, traveling twelve hours a day, we should be able to do it in well under a week. We provisioned our boat with plenty of food, water, and especially beer, and took off on our adventure!

Things went very well. At first. The water was calm, the skies were beautiful, and the sun was shining all day long. Then the weather turned against us with massive storms and waves, and our boat was dashed to pieces. I won’t go into too much detail, but suffice to say, after clinging to a large chunk of flotsam for several days, we managed to wash up on a beach on a tiny little island in the middle of nowhere.

We lay on that beach for an hour, resting from our exertions, and thanking our lucky stars that we were still alive. Then Connor struggled to his feet and raised his fists to the sky.

“Wyatt! We’re alive! By god in heaven, we are alive!”

I struggled to my feet as well. Indeed, we were alive. We hugged and wept. Then we got hold of ourselves and started taking stock of the situation.

The island was small, maybe half a mile long and a quarter mile wide. There was no other land visible in any direction. Fortunately, our island was extremely lush! There were palm trees galore, and pineapple plants, and coconuts, and lime and lemon trees, and even bananas. Better yet, there was even a fresh water spring. We had all the sustenance we needed. All that we lacked was a way to leave.

We searched the island from end to end, but couldn’t find any indication that anyone had ever been here before. We weren’t all that far from the international shipping lanes, but the tiny island was so insignificant that it is unlikely anyone would ever bother to come here.

All we could do, for now, was survive. We built a little shelter out of palm fronds and vines, in case the rain returned. Basically just a lean-to with two beds, made of leaves and branches, so we could sleep somewhat sheltered. We gathered up some food. We even caught a few fish, by hand, in the shallow waters of the lagoon. Our main enemies were despair, and boredom.

We passed the time by talking. There were two big rocks on the beach, where we could sit and talk and stare out at the endless ocean. We talked about sports, mostly. And movies. Then, about all the foods that we really wished we could get (mine was pizza; his was tacos). Then we talked about our girlfriends back home. That’s when the trouble started.

We were sitting on the rocks at the beach, staring out to sea. Connor was telling me about his girlfriend, Cassie. He kept saying how beautiful she was, and how much he loved her. He spoke at length about the way she kissed. And about the softness of her breasts, and how wet her pussy gets when he fingers her. And how tight she is when he fucks her. He told me about her blowjobs: slow and deep and very sloppy, and how she plays with his balls while sucking him, and how she always swallows his cum when he pumps it into her mouth. He told me how they had recently started getting into anal.

I told him about my girlfriend, Wendy. I told him about her nice round ass, her beautiful soulful eyes, and the way her butt wiggles when she walks. I told him about how she likes to talk dirty when we are having sex, calling me “daddy” and begging for me to cum all over her nasty little face. About how she likes to ride me cowgirl style, while reaching behind her ass to fondle my balls. And how she gives me long, romantic massages with oil, which always end with an awesome handjob.

At the end of this discussion, as you can imagine, we were both totally horned up! Connor said, “Dude, we shouldn’t have talked about all this stuff. Now I’ve got a throbbing hardon and nothing to do with it.”

“Me too,” I said. I looked around, right and left. “There’s nobody here but us, Bro. I’m just going to go take care of it myself.” I got up and walked over to a grove of palm trees to have some privacy. Then I dropped my trousers and started stroking. I closed my eyes and pictured Wendy’s round ass, imagining I was sliding my cock between her butt cheeks. Then I imagined my hand was her hand, giving me a slow, romantic handjob. I imagined her whispering in my ear, “Give me all your cum, you nasty boy! Give me a big load out of that gigantic cock of yours!” Before long, I was launching rope after rope of pearly white cum into the palm fronds.

I felt better already. I went back out to our rocks on the beach. Conner wasn’t there, but after a few minutes he reappeared, coming out of another grove of trees.

“Feel better?” I asked him.

He looked sheepish. “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose there will be a lot of this in our future.”

We went back to talking about sports, movies, pizza, and tacos.

Time passed, day after day, and week after week. We got better at catching fish and managed to start a small fire to cook them over. Our clothes were getting pretty tattered, but we still wore them. Our beards were getting very scruffy-looking. And several times a week, we would sit on the rocks and talk about our girlfriends, and then go to our separate groves to whack off.

We didn’t bother to keep track of the days or weeks, so I’m not really sure when it happened. Maybe after we’d been on the island for eight or nine weeks, I’m guessing. We had just finished a steamy discussion about our girlfriends and their sexual talents, and I was in my private grove with a massive boner. I was stroking for all I was worth, but I couldn’t cum. I had a painfully hard erection, but I just couldn’t seal the deal. My own hand was no longer enough for my cock. Damnit!

I went back out to the rocks, and Connor was sitting there, looking very glum.

“What’s the matter, pal?”

“I couldn’t cum! My cock is so desensitized to my hand that I just couldn’t get myself off! Man, I really need some release.”

I sat down on my rock. “Same thing happened to me.” Then there was a long silence.

You can probably guess what happened next. After several awkward minutes of silence, with occasional brief glances at each other, he cleared his throat.

“Uhumm, Wyatt? We could, uh, you know, like, do each other?”

Of course, I had been thinking the same thing. I just didn’t have the balls to say it out loud. “Do you think we could? It would be really weird.”

“It’s not so weird. Guys do it all the time.”

“Yeah, gay guys.”

“Okay, maybe, but I really need to cum. And so do you.”

He was right. We discussed the logistics of it for a bit, strictly as an intellectual exercise, I told myself. Should we take turns doing each other? Or both do it at the same time? Should we be standing, sitting, or lying on the ground? We eventually decided that if we were to do it, just theoretically, we should be standing facing each other and do it simultaneously.

Connor was staring at the ground. Without lifting his head, he said, “Okay, let’s do it. Before I lose my nerve.” Then he started ripping off his clothes.

“What, right here? On the beach? In front of…” I looked out over the endless sea.

He finally looked at me. “What’s the difference? We’re as alone here as we would be anywhere else on this island.” He was naked by now. “Come on, chop chop.”

I quickly shed my tattered clothing. The blood was pounding in my ears; I couldn’t believe we were actually doing this!

We each took a couple of slow steps forward, and then we were only a foot or so apart. Our hard cocks, jutting out like diving boards, were nearly touching.

“You start.”

“No, you start first.”

“Okay, together. On three… two… one….”

Both of our hands reached out and grabbed the other’s cock.

I sucked my breath in at the sensation. I don’t know if it was the sensation of holding another man’s cock, or the sensation of him holding mine. Probably both. It was thrilling, frightening, confusing, and more, all wrapped into one brief flash of emotion. My knees felt wobbly and I thought I might collapse, but I managed to stay up.

I was staring at my fist around his cock, palm underneath, fingers wrapped around the top. I started stroking, slowly, gently. It felt wonderful, both soft and hard at the same time, and silky smooth. I could feel his pulse beating in his shaft. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. His cock seemed to get longer and fatter as I stroked. It also twitched a lot.

The feeling of Connor’s cock in my hand was so powerful that it took me a few seconds to realize that he was stroking me, too. It felt incredible. I stared and saw that he was holding it from above, with his palm on top. He was mostly stroking me from root to tip, over and over, but he was also doing a little twist move every time his hand got to the head. That gave me an electric shock of intense pleasure every time he did it. So I started adding the twist to his cock, too. The first time I did it, he gasped a little in his throat. 

Getting more confident, as well as swept up in the pleasure, I started stroking faster and squeezing a little tighter. He did the same. We both, without even thinking about it, stepped a bit closer to each other, so that our chests were nearly touching. I could feel his breath on my face, and I could see the perspiration on his forehead.

My gaze was jumping back and forth from his hand on my cock, to my hand on his. The pleasure was building up in my cock, my balls, my entire body. A warm fire was starting to spread from the middle of my pelvis out to my extremities. I knew I was about to blow a gigantic load.

“Connor I’m cumming!” I said through gritted teeth.

“I know, me too!”

He twisted his hand around the rim of my cock head one more time and that is all it took. My hips started bucking as I shot rope after rope of pearly white cum onto his thigh. He screamed and launched his own load seconds later, drowning my pubic hair with jolt after jolt.

I didn’t plan it, and I’m still not sure why it happened. But in that instant, I leaned forward and planted my lips on his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue met mine. We sucked tongues noisily for about thirty seconds, and then we both pulled back. We were staring at each other, not sure what to think.

After a minute of panting and staring, Connor quietly said, “Wyatt, you’re still holding my dick.” And so I was. To be fair, he was still holding mine. We both let go and took a step apart.

He walked over to his rock and sat down. I sat down on mine. We both stared out over the ocean for a long time. The waves lapped at the shore. Seagulls squawked in the sky. The wind blew the scent of orchids and pineapples past our nostrils.

After twenty minutes or so of trying to sort out my dozens of conflicting emotions, I had to say something. “So, Connor - now what?”

He looked at me. “Wyatt, you’ve been my best friend for years, and it’s been great. I don’t want to be gay or anything, but that was awesome! Just incredible! I can’t wait to do it again!”

I broke into a huge smile. Connor had just answered all my questions. “Hell, yeah! I can’t wait to do it again, either!”

“So let’s not wait. I’m sure I could cum again. Do you feel like a blowjob?”

“Do you mean giving one or receiving one?”

“Both!” he said. “Cassie and I love doing sideways 69 on each other. It’s awesome.”

“How does that work?”

“It’s just like regular 69, but you do it lying on your sides.” He scrambled down into the sand, lying on his right side. “Come on, like this.”

So I got down in the sand, facing him, with my face near his cock. It was fully erect. I realized mine was, too. We scooted a little closer to each other. He had his left knee up, foot on the ground, leaving his right thigh as a pillow for my head. I assumed the same position.

No discussion of who would go first. Conner grabbed my dick and inhaled it. His mouth was so wet and smooth that I nearly swooned. He sucked it in as far as he could and started swirling his tongue all over it.

I could have just lain there and let him blow me, but I couldn’t wait. I grabbed his cock by the root of the shaft and guided it to my mouth. It was still covered with cum, which tasted very strong. I started licking around the rim a few times before sucking him into my mouth. He was moaning with pleasure.

On a sudden whim, I grabbed his nutsack and started massaging his balls while I was sucking on his fat cock. I know I love that. Apparently, he did, too! He started moaning really loudly. He took my cue and started massaging my ballsack, too. There we were, two grown men, sucking each other’s cocks and squeezing each other’s gonads, lying in the sand! It was pure heaven.

Before long, I felt my juices rising. I knew I was getting close to launch time. I took my mouth off his cock and focused on feeling the pleasure. Sensing I was close, Connor doubled his efforts, sucking and swirling on my shaft and head and squeezing my balls. Then the orgasm hit me, my hips bucked, and I started shooting into his mouth. He tried to swallow it all, but he wasn’t experienced enough to succeed. Most of it landed on his face. I didn’t care. It was one of the best blowjobs of my life.

As soon as I was done ejaculating, I returned my mouth to Connor’s raging hardon. I sucked it, slurped it, twisted my hand on the shaft, and probed his peehole with my tongue. It didn’t take much of that to push him over the edge, and he started spewing his man-milk into my mouth. I tried to swallow it, but I wasn’t very good at it, either. Some of it came out my nose, some ran down my chin, but I did manage to swallow a bit of it.

I took him out of my mouth and sat up. Connor was still lying in the sand, twitching with aftershocks from his orgasm. He finally sat up, too.

“You’ve got cum all over your face,” I told him.

“So do you! Let’s go out into the water and clean up.”

We ran out into the shallow water just off our beach, going far enough that the water was up to our waists. Then I ducked down enough to completely cover my head, and rubbed my face clean. Connor did likewise.

We both came up for air and looked at each other, huge grins on our faces. “Come here, you,” he said, with outstretched arms. I stepped into his hug and wrapped my arms around him, too. We stood that way for a while, hugging and squeezing. Then he brought his mouth to mine and we kissed for a long, long time.

After the kiss, Connor said, “Dude, I am exhausted. I could use a nap.”

I felt the same way. We went back to our lean-to, only intending on taking a short nap. We pushed the two little piles of leaves and branches together into one larger bed so we could sleep next to each other. Soon we were both fast asleep, and didn’t wake up until morning.

***************************

As the sun was rising, and starting to send beams of light through the palm fronds and vines of our lean-to, I was having a dream. I dreamt that I was back home, spooning in bed with Wendy. I had my arm around her waist and my semi-erect cock pressed between the hot-dog-bun of her ass cheeks. It felt so good that I started thrusting my hips a bit, until I was fully hard and leaking pre-cum. I slid my hand up to fondle her tits, but they weren’t there! So I slid it downward to finger her pussy. There was no pussy, either; just an erect cock! So I started stroking the cock.

Of course by this time, I realized that the dream was over. But my cock felt so good sliding up and down in Connor’s ass crack that I couldn’t stop. I started breathing heavily, knowing that soon I was going to shoot my load up his back. I started thrusting faster, and stroking faster on his cock shaft.

Then Connor surprised me by saying, “Put it in.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Put it in me!” There was a note of neediness in his voice.

So I re-angled my cock downward toward his asshole. It was so slippery with pre-cum by this point that there was no worry of not being able to penetrate him. Especially as he lifted one leg up to give me maximum access. I placed the slick head of my cock right on his opening and pushed hard. It went in a little way. I drew back and pushed harder, and it went in a little further. I drew back once more and thrusted again, and I was all the way in! Connor let out a gasp, I assume of pleasure. At the same time, I let out a long low moan at the surprising tightness, and the surprisingly intense pleasure of having my cock deep in his colon.

I started working up a rhythm. Thrusting with my hips, sliding my cock in and out of his sphincter, and stroking the length of his cock in time, from root to tip. Conner joined in, thrusting his pelvis back onto me in the same smooth, erotic rhythm. I felt the familiar flushing of my entire body as my orgasm approached. Connor’s dick started leaking copious amounts of fluid as the head of my dick pressed repeatedly against his prostate. He certainly was enjoying it, judging by his wailing and moaning and grunting.

The flushing feeling got more intense, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds. I twisted the head of his cock with our favorite twisting motion, and he began shooting cum in a big arc. Seconds later, my own ejaculation exploded, pumping him full of my seed. I felt three huge jolts, and then a long series of smaller aftershocks, before my hips stopped twitching. We both fell back asleep for a short while.

When I woke up again, Connor was sitting cross-legged and looking at me. I asked him, “What’s up?”

He had an inquisitive look on his face. “Wyatt, are we gay now?”

I thought it over for a bit, turning over the conflicting thoughts and emotions in my mind. Then I gave him my answer. “No, I don’t think so. If Wendy were here, I would much rather fuck her sweet sweet pussy than your hairy ass. But she’s not here, so…..” I shrugged my shoulders.

He broke into a smile. “Well, as long as you’re sure we’re not gay, then I think it’s my turn to fuck you in the ass!”

*************************

After this, Connor and I had sex just about every day. We fucked in the lean-to, we fucked in groves of palm trees, we fucked on the beach listening to the crashing waves. We did sideways 69 a lot, too, and we both got good at swallowing entire loads. We even repeated our standing mutual jerk-off occasionally, just to commemorate how it all started.

We couldn’t wear our clothes anymore. Besides always getting naked to have sex, they were tattered and worn, and frankly, they stank! So we burned them. It felt good to be naked all the time.

This went on for weeks and weeks; I couldn’t say how many. Then one fine morning, after a particularly intense 69 session on the beach, we were lying in the sand, letting the sun caress our naked bodies. Connor was staring out toward the horizon.

Suddenly he said, “What the fuck is that?”

I sat up and looked. There was a tiny black dot on the horizon. We looked at each other, then back to the dot.

It gradually grew bigger and bigger. After ten minutes or so, it was close enough for us to be sure it was a boat of some sort. And that it was coming directly toward us!

We leapt to our feet and started jumping up and down and waving our arms. We didn’t give a thought to the fact that we were both naked. We just wanted to be sure they saw us.

Eventually, the boat pulled up into our little lagoon, as close to the beach as it could get. Then they lowered a small rowboat. Three people got into it and they rowed up to our beach.

One of them was an elderly gentleman. The other two were much younger, a man and a woman. They couldn’t stop staring at us: two wild, unkempt, naked men!

The elderly gentleman asked, “Are you two okay?”

I blurted out, “Yes! We’ve been stranded here for months! Maybe years, I don’t even know! Can you get us home?”

It turns out the gentleman was a Professor from the University of the West Indies, and the other two were his grad students. They were doing research into tropical plant DNA, and were collecting samples from as many of the small islands of the region as they could. The two students took their kits into the trees and collected the samples while the Professor asked us about our adventure. He also told us the date. We’d been on the island for eleven months.

They took us back to their research vessel, gave us some clothes and some real food, and within a week, Connor and I were back home, having tearful reunions with our girlfriends. They had been terribly worried about us, but never gave up on the hope that we would eventually be back.

I married Wendy, and Connor married Cassie in a beautiful dual ceremony, and we all settled down to live happily ever after in beautiful heterosexual bliss.

Except that Connor and I still got together for a week every year to go on an adventure. Sometimes fishing, sometimes camping, sometimes skiing. But we NEVER ever went sailing again.