They received a bonus for their labors.  One of the plants they hacked down oozed out a thick sap like substance.  It was Jon, who made the original cut, and the sap spurted out onto his hand and chest, dripped down his body, and terminated on his cock.  When he went to wipe himself off, he realized that the sap made a wonderful lubricant.  He rubbed his cock in it, got an erection and came before he could stop himself.

He called for Vic, who came running to see what had happened.  Jon squeezed out some more sap from the injured plant, and rubbed it on Vic’s cock.

“Nice,” Vic moaned.

Jon also rubbed some of the sap up his ass.  “Now fuck me,” he demanded.  Vic entered Jon with ease.  He began to fuck, and immediately realized a new sphere of enjoyment.  The sap of the plant seemed to enhance sexual pleasure.  He came much too quickly, just as Jon had.

“Memorize what this plant looks like,” Jon said.  “We’ll keep lots of stalks in our shelter for fucking and hand jobs.”

“Yes,” Vic agreed.  “That was amazing.”

The first few days after they were settled into their new home, they did not go down to the beach.  They were exhausted from their labors and decided that they needed a few days off, a few much needed days of sex and debauchery. 

Besides the physical sex between them, they made up games to help them through the long hours.  All the games were sex related.

Their favorite game was for one of them to name the ugliest man or woman they knew.  The other would then begin to spin yarns about that person.  He would describe in intricate detail the sexual activity of that person, often demonstrating his lurid descriptions on the other.  They would laugh for hours picturing Mrs. Ugly McPherson sucking her husband’s cock.

But after those first few days, they settled into a routine.  At the first sign of daylight they ran to the beach.  They washed and rinsed their mouths in the ocean, and they relieved themselves.  They came ashore and let the sun dry them off.  This usually took just a few moments.  After that they retired to their original shelter where they had a good view of the ocean, and protection from the tropical sun.  In between having sex and playing the many games they devised to pass the time, they kept an eagle eye on the endless waters, praying every day to spot a passing ship.

They practiced long, hard hours making a fire from twigs and branches by rubbing stones together.  In the beginning they had little success, and nearly gave up.  Then one day the fire lit fairly readily.  After that they seemed to get more and more expert and they rarely failed to get a fire going on the first or second attempt.

Immediately after the sun sunk below the horizon every day, they hurried back to their oasis before it became too dark to see the path.  They repeated this routine every single day.

On the first day of exploring the jungle, they spotted a huge boulder along the pathway to their oasis.  At the end of each day thereafter, they began to etch a line in the boulder, in order to keep track of the number of days they had been on the island.  They figured out when Sunday was, and they devised their own little Anglican prayer service.  In this way, they observed the Sabbath every week, and they prayed for their deliverance.

When they had been on the island for ten years, two weeks, and four days, the miracle happened.  They spotted a steamer about half a mile from the island’s shore.  Immediately they brought their kindling wood to the beach, started a fire, and began to yell at the top of their voices.

Please notice us, Vic prayed.  My God, we could be home for Christmas.