It was a shipwreck. The sands there where he landed were ivory white, the water crystal clear under his hands and his face where he lifted up like from a concussion. The white foam was salty in his lips. His head hurt like a thousand earthquakes. Where was he? Green palm trees that were wild shook back and forth before him as his legs wobbled forward through the lapping waves. When he came to something resembling intelligence he looked back out at the sea and had a sinking feeling in his heart. Everything was gone.
Here he was alone, desperate. He ventured into the interior of the jungle island. In his feet and hands he felt the danger that something could come out and kill him – it could be anything. But it wasn’t danger that awaited him in the island. He came at night across a circle of dark women seated in sand around a fire. They were beautiful. That was all they had in common, in addition to one other thing. They were sexual.
First they embraced him, gave him water, bread, meat. They told him before hand, the water had been infused with psychedelic mushrooms. Then they sat around the fire and talked, the man wrapped in an animal-skin blanket. His wet clothes were by the fire roasting dry. There was a woman named Zana who made the first move. She had straddled him first in silence and they held each other for minutes before bringing her ruby red lips to his. Each woman put their lips and tongues over his body, three of them licking the shaft of his penis, one woman with her large lips sucking intently like slow beating drums the tip. The intensity of the pleasure was almost too much. It began to hurt. He felt tongue flick across his asshole, then lick it, make love to it. He broke through and disappeared inside.
The man spent hours as an ass-licker as the women took turns with each other and on him sitting on him and dancing. He felt salty and fish pussy like a buffet, black hair, silk hair, coarse hair. One woman had brown-bronze hair that he let his tongue roll over every time it came up and down her pussy. At other times he felt his dick in pussy, wet juicy mouth. He was a spiral in space. He was cumming multiple times. The warm ejaculate was like Mt. Vesuvius.
He spent the rest of his life, thirty five more years, happy on that island until he peacefully passed away. His ashes were scattered over the Pacific Ocean.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/7wjjq5/the_lost_orgy