1. The Island, Chapter 29


    Date: 7/21/2015, Categories: Fiction, Black, Consensual Sex, Erotica, Group Sex, Interracial, Lactation, Latina, Males / Females, Romance, Author: Paperbackwriter, Rating: 93, Source: sexstories.com

    ran off in an excited mob. I took a closer look at the sow, and privately agreed with Summer: she didn’t look very healthy. Her eyes were glazed and rheumy, and she seemed a little thin for her size. I turned to the ex farm-girl. “How close are these guys to weaning, Summer?” “I think the bigger ones are just about ready. We can mash some food into some goat milk and they should be fine. The little one may have some trouble. I’d like to see him nurse for another week or so.” “I wonder if the mother has that long. She might not last.” “Well, at least we can save most of them.” The whole community pitched in to create a pig pen of sorts, lashing bamboo between three trees to make a triangular enclosure just inside the tree line. The sow was cajoled into walking to the pen and then wearily laid down inside. The piglets followed, then quickly got back to nursing. We finished lashing the last of the barrier together, trapping them inside. By now the boys had brought back the dead boar, and a group of castaways began butchering it efficiently. He seemed a fine, healthy specimen, and I had no compunctions about us eating the meat. I wasn’t sure I could say the same about the sow, if she were to die. That meat might be relegated to fish bait. I followed the example of several folks and grabbed some fruit and dried fish for a working lunch while our community organized our new livestock. We now had two pens just inside the trees off the beach. One contained our chickens, divided into ...
    three sections and roofed over. The birds probably couldn’t fly very well, but we suspected they could manage to fly over a fence if it didn’t have a top. We put a rooster and a couple of hens into each of two sections, so they could be fruitful and multiply, hopefully. The remaining hens and the chicks were in the third section, so they could lay unfertilized eggs. I knew there was nothing wrong with eating fertilized eggs, but some of our group seemed to be squeamish about the idea. The goats were allowed to roam free. The mother was hobbled, but seemed to be getting used to camp life anyway. The kids had taken to feeding her by hand, and she seemed to appreciate life without the effort of scrounging food. The kid had been handled so much he was nearly tame at this point, and as predicted by the goat-familiar among us, we had been able to wean him easily and now had the nanny’s milk for our own use. Dakota had taught the younger kids how to milk her, and we had delegated that task to them to perform twice a day. The pig family was in their own pen, just a few feet from the chickens. We put a large supply of roots, fish scraps, fruit, and greens, along with a bucket of water, into the enclosure for the sow. Hopefully she would recover. In all the excitement, my impending double date tonight slipped my mind. It suddenly came rushing back when Janie said to me, “Hey, you want to join me in a hot bath? I want to get cleaned up for tonight.” “Shit! I almost forgot!” I exclaimed. ...
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