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Finally, I decided to put myself out of my misery and I commanded Lisa to lick only my Clit. She took the tip of her tongue and slowly pressed it up against my swollen button, and began to eagerly lap up my clitoris and play with it. I couldnt hold in my moans any longer. I began to moan out loud and my cunt lips dripped with juices. I pressed full tongue and she pressed her long, hot, rough tongue against my entire pussy, and ran it up my cunt over and over, taking huge licks, dragging my long, sensitive inner lips with her tongue. I grinded my hips against my chair in pleasure and moaned loudly, in a factory room full of other moaning lesbians. My clitoris tingled and twitched and my hole ached and puckered and I was the wettest Id ever been in my life. Without me even asking, Lisa jammed her tongue in between my sticky inner lips and ran it back and forth, scooping out all of my runny, sticky, juices and occasionally massaged my clit with the back of her tongue. I needed her. Like Thoreau at Walden Pond, Hemingway battling it out with the marlin in the Gulf of Mexico, Amundsen eating his own huskeys to stay alive at the South Pole... Yuck, maybe not that last one. But you get the idea. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no woman-hater. Far from it. While I was living in the city, women were my obsession. And it wasn’t just sex. I felt I needed the warmth of female companionship. Male bonding was all well and good, but without a woman nearby I felt a cold, black emptiness within me. Hell, once I even let an old bag lady share my loft, just for the company, but I had to throw her out when I found out she was stealing my art supplies and selling them to the guy next door. When it comes to women, out of sight is out of mind, which is where I would have been if I’d stayed in the city. On the island I found myself. The boy in me came alive again as I climbed the trees, trapped small, furry animals, and swam naked in the sea. I had regained paradise. And then, along.
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