Literotica Amazons

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Literotica Amazons
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Frank escapes divorce on a cruise ship that goes down.
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Dear reader: welcome. I wish to note here up front that this piece is "novella" in length. It's not broken up conveniently into numbered masturbatory installments. If you are after that, there is plenty of good material to be found, but this one doesn't really fit that bill. That being said, there are numerous sexual encounters in this piece, all among consenting adults, and the entire story and all it's characters are figments of my imagination in a semi-parallel universe which is the setting for the story. Any resemblance to actual people, real or imagined, is purely coincidental or used as parody as well as, and/or colloquial, and any apparent dereliction of grammar or spelling is actually perfect grammar and spelling as it exists in this similar universe. As always, feel free to comment and rate. Happy reading!
I too got an awful start in life, and things never got much better for me either. Sure, I had some good days. Weeks even, when I look back. Mostly everybody does. I've know a few folks who never did, but I guess I was just one of the lucky ones. Not only because I had good days, but for the life I live now because chance walked across my path and changed everything.
Well, maybe it was chance. I don't know and I don't care. I'm just happy for it. So here I am and I walk these shores daily, where I found the bottle that had your letter in it, rolling up and down in the waves that splash up my ankles and calves perpetuating the back and forth of getting all sandy and getting washed clean all for the pleasure of just walking. It is a perfect reminder to me of the world I left behind, and so was the letter you wrote.
Sorry to hear about your misfortunes. She's not worth it. Change some things. There are sweet women, she's just not one of them and I'd know. I had one of my own. Bitch with a capital "C", if you get my meaning. As for me: Let me tell you about my vacation to the Amazons, though you will probably never get this letter. Odds were slim for me to get yours in a bottle where I live, and beyond astronomical for mine to go the other way, but I believe there are other forces at work in our worlds and it actually could happen. Read on and you'll see why.
Now, you may think when I say Amazons I am referring to the jungle in some old-timey British manner. I am not. I am also not referring to the jungle with an odd plurality, as if I am some country hick. I'm talking about the actual nation of giant, warrior women of the Mediterranean. Just a legend you say? I'd have to agree with you, they are legendary. They are also giants, but...sort of...let me frame this.
It all started with my divorce, and the vacation I decided to take from it. I booked a trip on the cruise ship Aphrodite. I know, I know. Naming a cruise ship after a Greek Goddess? As well forget attracting any religious folks who aren't keen to take a sacrilegious vacation. Go figure, but cruise ship companies probably have enough money that feel they don't have to care, and they sure aren't worried about offending deities of antiquity, though I think after reading this you might agree they should think twice, but I digress. My life up till then had been one train wreck after another, and it seemed only logical that I might be more of a boat person and just not know it. There was only one way to find out, so I got on the monstrous ship on a last minute single occupancy ticket that was a scream of a deal hoping just to spend a few days not pretending I was someone else, but being someone else. The kind of person that might get on a cruise ship and watch the waves go by with a drink in my hand. Well I was on the ship and doing that, and it was working out pretty good until I and it's other 5,000 passengers were dumped into the Mediterranean during a rainy evening when the ship hit rocks off some uncharted island.
It should have been impossible. With sonar arrays, modern charts, GPS location systems and satellite imagery, radar that can count a mosquito wing-beats at a mile. A cruise ship's helmsman that is hammered-drunk should be able to miss everything without barely lifting a finger. It hardly matters now. There I was looking over the railing in my stateroom balcony into the water. It was a rainy evening, but the wind direction and balcony above me provided perfect cover to enjoy a beer while watching dolphins goofing off in the wake below. Suddenly, what should have been impossible happened. The whole boat shifted violently down and away from where I was standing, away from the direction I was leaning on the very safe and high railing, and to my amazed shock I was tumbling into the sea below, beer in hand.
I hit the water hard. It had to be a 40 foot fall and I was akimbo in the air, never righting myself into any semblance of a dive or jump, and smacked into the water on my back. It hurt like blazes, and while my immediate impression was of getting my whole body slapped, I noticed the water was cool. Not cold, but cool enough that it was a shock. I struggled to the surface, almost unable to wait to cough, breathe, and shout. When my head got above water, I still had the wind knocked out of me, and immediately I was petrified by fear as well as shock. My past flashed through my mind, skinning my knee falling off my bicycle when I was 7, my wife telling me that yes, she would marry me. All of it, and in the strangely secluded movie of my life, I recovered my ability to breathe.
Gasps of breath I raged in and out while spots crossed my vision, and I realized what I was seeing behind those spots was the cruise ship I was on rapidly receding from me. Receding, but there was something wrong. It was at an odd angle. Before it was lost in the wind, waves, and evening rain, I saw it turn over completely. A lot of people on that boat were going to die. It occurred to me at that moment, treading the cool seawater, was that I was not much better off, but I was better off than the poor schmucks who were asleep in their beds under the new waterline. I was alone unless I could catch up with survivors from the boat, I had no life preserver, my phone was likely toast, and I was out to sea. Thinking of my phone, I grabbed for it frantically, to get it out of the water, and if by some miracle it survived, I could call for help while I tread water. I got to my pocket and it was there! I pulled it from my pocket and got it up out of the water but alas, it was fried.
I stuffed back in my shirt pocket, hoping that it might survive somehow to get my SIM card back, and as I was doing so I noticed that the current was pulling me past a group of rocks jutting out of the sea. Those represented a beginning to safety. I reached for them and caught them, but in the process dropped the phone. One wave and it was gone, but I was on rocks and not swimming. It was a terrible trade, but a necessary one. I noticed immediately that the rocks were covered with white paint. The same color white as the boat I had just so unexpectedly left. The boat had been off course. Someone was asleep at the wheel, and thousands of people would die. At that moment, I was grateful. If I could stay on the rocks, I might be among those few who would live to tell a tale becoming rare in our modern age. A tale of shipwreck survival. I sat and wondered for a few moments, and began to look around.
The rocks I was on were about 10 feet wide and 15 feet long on their weathered surface, and free from barnacles and other sea life. That meant they were generally out of the water and this was probably high tide. I looked to the direction the ship had gone, with the current, and saw nothing. It had disappeared in the rain and wind. It was late evening and almost dark, but I thought I might have been able to see flares, or emergency lights of some sort, but I didn't. There was nothing but the white paint of what was probably a severely damaged hull to mark it's passage. I looked the way the ship had come and there was nothing. No life boats. No people swimming. A look to what should have been south and there was nothing. A look to the north, and at first I thought there was nothing, but then I saw another group of rocks much like the ones I was on. In fact, they weren't just like the ones I was on, they were bigger.
I made a split second decision. I was going for it. It would be about a hundred yards, but I had been a pretty decent swimmer in the past. In high school I had been on the team, and I was still in nice shape. I climbed down into the sea on the rocks and began swimming.
The current was awful. At first I thought I wasn't going to be able to reach the rocks because of it, and then in horror, realized that if I couldn't reach them, I probably wouldn't be able to get back either! I put my head in the water and concentrated. If I lost my focus, just as with racing in high school, I would lose. So I got my head in the game and got to it.
I was making good time, but it was looking as if my gas would run out before I got there because I had to mend my path so much. It was clear that my shirt was killing my efficiency, so I ditched it and powered back to position. I didn't have shoes on, so those couldn't hold me back, but my baggy shorts were no good. I didn't fancy getting picked up in the buff and not having any protection from the sun if I had no clothes, but it was a far cry better than being drowned, so I ditched the shorts too. I was completely naked. No phone, no clothes, not even my wedding ring because I had finally decided not to wear it anymore. This cruise was my chance to rediscover myself after the divorce instead of clinging to a marriage that didn't exist.
I still wasn't going to make it. The current was just too fast. I was going to miss by about 10 feet, and catching up in the lee of the rocks was a dubious possibility because I was beat. The current had made the distance four times what I had reckoned. I was going by and I had decided to tread water and begin my recovery as soon as possible when my foot struck rock. I quickly got my feet under me and realized that I was able to stand, though barely because of the current. I was only in about four feet of water, and beneath my feet was slippery, but usable rock. It was all I could do to stand. I knew I was in shock to some degree, and exhausted, but I would have to try to work my way up to the rocks out of the water, and so I did.
I had to part swim and part walk my way up to the rocks. When I got to what was out of the water, I realized that they went on for some distance. It was getting dark quickly, but I elected to get higher out of the water if I could, and it sure appeared that I would if I continued.
The way was rough and unpleasant. Downright difficult and dangerous in spots, but after about 20 minutes of scrabbling my bare ass around, I reached, in stunned and happy silence, a beach complete with palm trees. However bad my luck had been, at the moment I felt the luckiest man alive. Naked, exhausted, on a foreign beach at night without even a phone, but alive. I found a large boulder jutting out of the sand near a palm tree, and there was a spot under its lee side that was DRY. I guessed it was full of spiders, vipers, and man-eating crabs, but it didn't seem to be. I crawled into it as best I could, and I was still getting misted on my legs, but I was mostly comfortable. I began covering myself with sand, and before I could finish, I dozed off.
I awoke to gibberish, and something cold being snapped around my neck. The sun was blazing, and I raised my hands to block it as I opened my eyes but was jerked by a cold ring around my neck. Then, I felt something cold and pointy in my rib cage.
These were soprano female voices, speaking with each other in a language I was not familiar with. Probably some Greek dialect or Mediterranean sub-language. I still didn't have my wits about me, but one of the ladies commanded me somehow, and sharply.
"Noona, Shuseur. Mayene ais." There was a pause. "Gogit, ensalvore. Omnarit colitan."
This voice was polite and commanding at the same time. I opened my eyes to find it's source, and there in front of the sun was a blonde mini-woman. She stood as though she was ten feet tall, but she couldn't have been much more than four. And she wore armor! A bodice of metal discs and a leather skirt and sandals. She had a spear pointed at my chest and a chain going to a collar around my neck in the other.
A black haired woman, who I was almost looking in the eye while I was sitting and she standing, moved over me to her left moved to swat me with a spear, but the blond blocked it with hers.
"Shuseur. Mayene ais." She repeated.
"Ma'am. I sure don't understand you, but I would like to. Shushure mayonnaise? I don't know what that means, but I sure-sure don't like a spear in my ribs or a collar around my neck."
I moved to get up and suddenly it was night, and stars came out. Twinkly little stars, and there was a high violin note that accompanied them. The world was instantly slow. It took me a moment to realize I had been struck. Clobbered. As the violin stopped playing I could hear the women arguing. It was animated, but not terribly so. The blond seemed more upset that I was momentarily incapacitated.
"Itunare blablab, coinitan initblablba."
I came around more quickly this time and realized with alarm that I was naked.
"Hey." I said, covering myself, trying to get my faculties back. "I need to make a phone call, and one of you fucking hits me again and my gentlemanly behavior is going back to the 1920's!"
I said this angrily as I moved to stand up between the three women. As I did so, still feeling pretty self-conscious about my nudity, three spear points were instantly touching my neck. I looked at the three beautiful women and froze. They were making a point quite literally. And they were fierce. And hot!
"Holay shit." The blonde said back to me, oddly.
Then they were off, each talking to each other about holay shit, as if to determine what words they sounded like. I couldn't follow their language at all, and I was still puzzled about the collar around my neck.
"Ladies. Ladies!" I got their attention and the brunette that had clubbed me with the spear gave me a dirty look, as if I was skating on thin ice with her (which I probably was). "Telephone?"
I held my hand to my head as if I was on the telephone. The word telephone was so broadly used in numerous forms as to be obviously recognizable along with the hand gesture. But there were only blank looks.
"Dashtu magantus." The brunette said, and walked away, her leather skirt flipping in the morning sun, her back exposed beneath her black, ponytail and her feet and legs bare.
The blonde and the other brunette behind me shrugged and the brunette walked off to follow the other. The blonde pulled on my collar chain so that I would rise. I did, and stood before her, unable to hide my odd arousal in spite of the pain in my head. She pulled the chain down and grabbed the iron collar and brought me face to face with her, me, bending me uncomfortably.
"Gointu belakai tutun caral. Tu nu estor kalipe hornotellest. Calfortuneste?"
We were nearly nose to nose. Her head was smaller than mine. Her eyes, blue and penetrating, gazed into mine with surety I didn't know if I had ever felt.
"Miss, I don't know what you are saying at all. I don't want this collar on my neck. I don't want to hurt you."
I shook the collar her hand was on, my look into her eyes was angry. She got a tender look on her face.
"Ona elieshta. Queil fortunsana queil fortunkora."
Then she smiled, with white teeth, ruffled my hair, reached down and grabbed my cock and balls and fondled them appreciatively while seemingly measuring them and then laughed and walked off, dragging me by the collar and chain.
She called as if I was a friend, but pulled me along with the inevitability of one who leads dogs on leashes. I looked around as I started walking and realized that this would be a very opportune chance to make a break for it. I could dive in the ocean and swim with the little bit of chain, but it wouldn't be easy. I didn't think she would throw the spear at me, but for all I knew I would be roasting on that spear later if I didn't make a break for it, so I did. I played along as if I was a good doggy for all of five steps. She turned her head to look forward and I ripped the chain out of her small hands and broke for the water's edge about 40 feet down the slope of beach.
I made it 20 feet before I knew she was in pursuit instead of winding up with the spear. I made it another 15 feet before she struck me in the bend of the knee, catapulting me forward. She was fast! It also didn't help that I was still pretty tired from yesterday. I quickly turned over, but she was on top of me and holding me down somehow. Her arms were strong! We grappled for a few moments, and she was fast and had one of my arms pinned somehow and it hurt every time I moved. I struggled for all I was worth but I knew it was in vain when I heard her start laughing. I might as well have been an 8 year old girl and she a 30 year old linebacker. My whole world shifted. A 90 pound woman had just pinned me!
She laughed more and adjusted herself on me so that we were essentially in a very compromising position with her on top.
"Tghu fiersh holle mey!" She said, happily.
She lay on top of me, her armored breasts pressed against chest, my legs together and her leather-skirted hips over mine. Her face was angled up to my face. She leaned in and kissed me, full on the mouth, passionately. It was supremely sexy! And she smelled nice and I was pretty sure I didn't. I felt myself getting very aroused again very quickly, and while I didn't want to be a prisoner, I wouldn't have minded some fooling around had the circumstances been different. The conflict in my brain was immediate and angry. 'How dare this woman capture me, not let me go, and then give me what at least part of me really wants?!!!' Only, I could feel the lie. All of me wanted it to some degree. My divorce had been ugly and there had been no rebound woman to take the edge off. My cheating-cheating-cheater whore-wife had slept with my now disowned brother, who claimed she also nailed some other people close to me. I was without a family over the thing.
She still held my one pinned arm ruthlessly, but with one hand she reached down and fondled my cock.
"Maushuni golianth!" She gushed in amazement.
I was nearly laughing at her amazement in spite of the situation.
"Golianth. I'm glad you like it." I replied, assuming 'golianth' was akin to 'Goliath'. Some of their words sounded almost familiar, but some not at all. There was almost something Latin, or Greek about it.
"Coolne vieleste carnoiel mumbornius." She said, steamily as she massaged my cock and maneuvered her pussy over it.
I couldn't speak, and I was breathing hard. I shook my pinned arm to try to get her to free it and she did, but gave me an admonishing look before doing it. If she wanted sex, I was helpless to resist. She was beautiful, I was exhausted, hungry, sweaty, and had about a mountain of pent up sexual frustration. When I had the use of my arm back, I put my hands on her hips and lifted them.
"Ahh!" She squeeked with delight and wiggled.
"You wanna get fucked? Okay, then." I said.
She guided my cock into her slit with her hand. She was wet! And snug. All my memories of my wife chea
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