You find your way to a cabana housing rows of extremely long beachwood tables, where hundreds of the festival attendees are already being served. Men with carts walk up and down the aisles, handing out paper plates of roasted pork and plastic cups of kava.
Summer's swelter beneath the thatch roof here is as just powerful as being in direct sunlight; the shade helps not at all. You cool yourself with a paper fan that a volunteer handed you. But now Rose, who was too fucking stupid to grab one for herself, steals it when you aren't paying attention.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" You demand.
"I'm dying," she moans, head thrown back as she trudges along. "I'm literally dying..."
Fat beads of sweat run from underneath her massive udders, down her untoned torso, and over her pale upper calves. You gulp, and glance away.
Gal is even worse off than you and your wife. Let's see: a redhead who anyway never goes outside, walking around a tropical island at the height of the afternoon -- yeah, she's turning a bit pink already, despite a copious application of SPF 10 trillion before she embarked. She'll be nursing horrible sunburns for the next week or two. She swoons and sways, and Cerise has to help her walk.
"is this hell" she wants to know.
"Heaven, supposedly," Cerise says.
Cerise's skin is also starting to turn shades. But... yours, too. Face it: the four of you are about the least athletic and outdoorsy people on Earth. Among honeymoon destinations, this could have been the worst possible choice.
You usher them to a spot at one of the long tables that's vacant enough to fit four Americans suffering sunstroke. You sit at the end. Gal, the poor little thing, is wedged between her bride on one side and yours on the other.
"too many people" Gal says.
"Too hot," Rose says, still fanning herself. You grab the fan from her and use it for yourself. She tries to wheel on you, her knees knocking your thigh, and pounds your leg with a fist. You kick her under the table; she shoves you.
"Too..." Cerise begins. But she can't think clearly in this jungly heat. "Too," She says. "Just too."
"im so tired" Gal complains. She lays her cheek on the tabletop. "i could... really... use... a boost... oh..."
"Boosto?" You say, glancing over.
"what"
Cerise laughs through her nose. She nudges her wife and explains the joke. In her deepest and most masculine voice "Boooooossssstooooo."
"oh"
"This is the part where you laugh," you tell her.
"i used my fake laugh for the day already"
You glare at her.
"im sorry Sir"
A pause.
"mostly"
>[x] Give her a boosto.
You circle around behind her. "Up," you command.
"please... just let me res--"
You loop your hands under her armpits and force her to stand. She tries to be dead weight, and sags forward towards the table as you hold her. But Cerise is your partner in crime. She kicks one of her shapely legs up, and blocks the gap between her and Rose, so that Gal would not be able to sit again even if she got loose from your grip.
"cerise..." Gal pleads.
But Cerise just smiles cruelly up at her. "Why don't we help her cool off, huh?" She asks you, arms spider-walking up one of Gal's thin legs.
"Oh yes," Rose purrs, cottoning to what the game is. Her hand is going up Gal's other leg in much the same fashion. Gal is about to phase into a different existence on an atomic level, with how hard her entire body is vibrating from the fear.
You keep Gal held fast, one arm wrapped around her chest, as your sister-wives do your dirty work. Together they each take one side of Gal's bikini bottom and untie it. From sweat, and likely arousal, it sticks to Gal's crotch even after they have it undone, and has to be peeled away. Rose ends up with the garment in hand when all is said and done. You motion for her to give it to you under the table. But grinning evilly, she hoists it up high so that it dangles off her pinky, in plain view of the dozens and dozens of festival attendees seated at the galley table. There are murmurs of surprise and confusion all around.
"Did you want this back, Gal?" Rose asks her.
"p-- p-- p..." Gal stutters incoherently.
Rose, tauntingly, still holding the damp garment, mimics Gal's stuttering back at her. "P-- p-- p-- ... What? Do you want it back or not? Speak clearly."
"y- y--"
"Y-- y--" Rose repeats. "Fuck. Don't you know how to speak? I guess you don't want it." She hands it to you; you pocket it.
Meanwhile, Cerise begins to molest her. Hand creeping under the tee, Cerise has two fingers buried in Gal's pussy. Gal, already weak in the knees, now is nearly bowled over. The only reason she's not a gibbering heap on the dirt ground is because you're supporting her entire weight. She's light -- too light -- you make a note to keep tabs on how much she eats tonight, because it probably won't be enough if you don't.
"Okay Cerise, that's enough," you tell your sister. "Let's be nice to her."
"You're one to talk about nice," Cerise harrumphs.
"My poor little slave needs a boosto. She'll be a lot more fun to play with once she's got some energy."
Gal weakly peers up at you. "what do you--"
You squat down and shove your head between her legs. Keeping her center of balance steady by holding her around the knees, you stand -- not without a bit of effort, but hey, you did get her up. She wobbles back and forth, shocked, and frightened, but finally her hands find the top of your head and she holds on for dear life.
"what are you doing!" she cries -- the loudest voice you've gotten from her all trip.
"You wanted a boosto."
Cerise and Rose are laughing among themselves -- this is highly entertaining. Worth the trip in and of itself, judging by their expressions.
Gal is madly trying to peer over her own back; to see whether the hem of the tee covers her bare ass. It doesn't. She's mooning every man, woman, and child in Palau. You feel her over-warm, smooth, sweaty and sticky skin against your shoulders. Her tiny legs hug you tight, her leaky pussy rubs up against the nape of your neck. It's a good feeling. She's got her hands dug in, gripping your hair at the roots, and the pressure of it is not unpleasant. (Huh. So that's why Rose likes it so much.)
"Okay, scrawny fuck," Cerise tells you. "If you can lug Gal all the way up and back to the end of this copacabana, I'll give you a reward."
"I'm doing this for Gal's sake, but now I'm interested. What kind of reward?"
"You'll see," Cerise says, winking.
"You heard the woman," you tell Gal, rolling your eyes up to try and see her. "Let's go."
"Sir please -- please don't--"
"Booooosto!" You intone. And then you're off.
Leg over leg, you dash as fast as you can. The breeze it creates is oddly refreshing, and you try not to think about how exhausted you'll be once you stop moving. You push your way through the crowd underneath the cabana's roof. "Boosto!" you say. You part shocked onlookers like Moses at the Red Sea.
"please don't shout like that Sir" Gal begs.
"Boosto!" you shout, even louder.
"im sorry im sorry im sorry" Gal says on your behalf, glancing back and forth between the people you're shoving aside. "please forgive my Sir -- please -- oh no -- dont look -- hes really not himself right now -- eep-- dont look at me -- im sorry"
"Boosto!" You hold your arms in front of you, imitating a jet, to amp up her embarrassment. "Boosto! Boosto!"
Gal wobbles to and fro, fighting just to keep from falling. Occasionally she reaches back to grab the hem of the shirt and try to tug it lower, but no use. She's on display, and there's nothing she can do about it.
As you reach the end of the roof's cover, you feel the tiredness beginning to set in. You need a bit of a break, but you don't want Cerise and Rose to see you tucker out so quickly -- and you especially don't want to have Gal see you so weak. You need to improvise.
You, yourself, need a boosto.
You go past the end of the cabana by a few yards, and lean your backs against a tall palm tree.
"Sir?"
With your hands still holding Gal's legs, you can't wave to Cerise and Rose, who are quite distant indeed at the other side of the cabana; but you do tilt your chin up at them. They smile and wave back.
You twist around -- making sure Gal stays with her back pressed up against the tree bark.
"Sir!!"
You've got your face right between her legs. The swampy heat of her pussy, created by being trapped against your neck -- not to mention her own mounting arousal at being so publicly embarrassed -- almost blows you back. Her smooth innie of a cunt is dripping wet already and smells so inviting from up close. It's so dirty and lewd, that heady mixture of sweat and girl-cream. Gal runs her hands through your hair. "Sir... you cannot be for real..."
You are for real.
You blow a puff of air against her hard nubbin of a clit. She grits her teeth and hisses. Then, you dive in.
You are vaguely aware of shocked voices behind you, as you put on this very public display of affection towards your slave. She flexes her thighs around your ears over and again. She arches her back, and painfully scrapes it against the rough bark, in her vain attempt to escape the pleasurable torment of your tongue licking her from the inside. She tastes so fucking good -- so unbelievably good for a dumb shut-in with a shitty diet. Her juices are tangy but not sour, and stick to the back of your throat in a wonderfully persistent way. The unblemished smoothness of her in-turned pussy lips only accentuates it. She's a girl of contrasts; so pure-looking, and such a fucking slut bitch.
"ah -- ah -- ungh, ffffuck..."
Her voice is soft and yet needful, breathy but greedy. She's hardly more than whispering; she wants only Sir to hear her pleasure. She runs her hands through your hair and squirms. But she's fully giving in to you, she isn't trying to get away anymore. On the contrary, she's rubbing her pussy against you. Naughty slave, using your tongue to get off in broad daylight and for everyone to see.
"fuck, Sir... fuck... youre going to make me cum Sir..."
You stop, only long enough to issue a command. "Tell everyone you're cumming."
"i--"
"Do it, cunt. Or you don't get to cum."
"oh fuck--"
You start licking her again.
"i-- i--" she stammers. Volume mounting, then: "i -- iii-- I -- I -- I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING SO FUCKING HARD! OH MY GOD! SIR IS MAKING ME CUM!! I'M CUMMING ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!"
Nevermind just Gal, you don't think you've ever heard anyone scream so loud before. She screams obscene things until she loses her voice.
She isn't lying, either. She sprays your face with her cum. It's torrential, seemingly never-ending; she squirts all over your head, your shoulders, your body, and the ground below. It's so good. You could drink her forever.
When finally she's done spraying her cunt juice all over the place, you turn slowly back around between her legs. Everyone, for as far as your eye can see, is watching. Aghast.
What can you do, but lick the cum off your lips, smile, and say:
"Boosto!"
You jog with her back to where Rose and Cerise still sit. They're doubled over with laughter. Gal, for her part, is having a miniature freakout:
"prison... we're going to prison... oh my god Sir... why..."
You deposit her back on the bench.
As you stand again, rubbing the small of your back, a couple Palaun men come by -- to shake your hand -- and give you a high five.
"Are you trying to get on the Palau sex offender registry?" Cerise asks.
"Sure," you say.
"If you get arrested--" she starts.
You hold up a palm. "Cerise, Cerise, Cerise. I told you already. We've got fuck-you money. If I need to get busted out of Palauan jail, it's fine." You take a cup of kava off a passing cart and gulp it down. Not a care in the world. "Anyway, I won your bet. What was the reward?"
Cerise worries her lower lip. Then, apparently deciding that the safety net of fuck-you money is guarantee enough, she says: "I guess I can give it to you right now."
She spins around, sitting with her feet on the other side of the bench -- facing you. She undoes the ties of her bikini bottom. Brazenly she tosses it aside -- far out of reach -- leans back onto her tailbone, parts her legs as wide as she can, and spreads her pussy with the thumbs of both hands. "Come get it."
You don't need a second invitation. You tug your trunks down enough to free your rock-hard cock, get down to your knees, and ram yourself home up your older sister's lovely cunt. Like a couple of animals. You fuck without any heed towards the dozens, no, hundreds of people who can see all.
Rose, elbow on table and chin on palm, leans around to watch the incestuous show. Idly she gets her hand in her own bikini bottom, and diddles her cunt.
"you-- oh my god -- please--" Gal is the only one trying to be sensible here. Easy for her, she's the only one who got to cum already, so of course she's trying to be the spoil sport. You tell her to shut the fuck up as you continue to nail your own sister. The lewd squelching of it fills the air.
People around you are jeering, catcalling, and braying -- hooting and hollering, even clapping -- Cerise is rubbing her tits through her bikini top and making loud, high cries of pleasure all her own. She bounces back against you, enjoying the friction of your brotherly cock sliding in and out of her sweaty cunt. You keep hold of her thick thighs and fuck her for all she's worth.
"youre all being too-- too--"
Rose takes one of Gal's wrists. She guides Gal's hand down, towards her crotch -- and gently, but firmly, forces Gal to do her masturbating for her. Rose takes a few moments to enjoy the sensation of Gal's thin fingers stirring up her pussy. Then Rose takes off her own top, letting her giant tits flop free. Sweat drips off the flesh, even off the tip of one bright pink nipple. She rubs her cowtits luxuriously, almost smugly, and enjoys the hungry eyes gluing themselves to her. She cups one of her wet breasts from the underside, and raises it, the heft of it nearly swallowing her hand. And as Gal masturbates her, she licks her own nipple. She makes noises like a sow from the pleasure.
Cerise grabs you around the waist and hugs you tight. "Cum inside me," she begs.
"I wouldn't cum anywhere else--"
"Fuck, oh fuck, Alabaster..."
You hump her like it's your last day on Earth. The silky texture of her pussy is enough to kill for. You feel your nut coming on -- and what a spectacular orgasm it is. It feels like it won't end. It comes first as a single, voluminous blast straight to the back of Cerise's suckling womb. Then a few moments before the next spurt, punctuated by some hard, fast thrusts as Cerise, tongue wagging like a dog, clamps her pussy down at the root of your orgasming cock. Finally then another series of squirts, smaller but rapid fire: pulse, squirt, pulse, squirt, that paint her insides white. There's so much that it begins to spill out of her, staining the bench and the muddying the dirt. You rear back, about halfway, and ram home -- and cum again. This time Cerise, screaming, also cums. There's no more blissful feeling than this, of cumming in unison with your sister. Your balls draw up towards your body and keep spitting fresh cum as deep as you can put it inside her. You're not sure if you've ever cum such a huge volume, it's honestly like you've grown a horse's cock; it just keeps surging and surging from you. You're only somewhat cognizant of Rose, beside you, also cumming her brains out. It's a family affair; you're all cumming yourself stupid. Isn't that nice: to throw all higher intelligence away, to turn into a mush-brained idiot, with only one singular goal, to cum and cum and cum and cum. Maybe this was the right honeymoon destination, after all.