Confined With a Goddess

Jake didn't stop running until he was back on the boat. He'd been cursing himself for what he'd done for the past ten minutes, but his instincts had taken over. He'd messed up, and he'd messed up badly.

In his right hand, he held the remains of the fish. He'd stolen it from her larder. This was something he could justify; it was food, and he was hungry. If he had the energy and knowledge to go fishing, he could pay it back to her at a later time, with interest. He could give her several whole fish. In fact, he wanted to. But he couldn't pay her back if he starved to death, so having something good to eat was definitely going to be helpful.

What he couldn't justify was the cotton cloth bunched up in his left hand. He couldn't believe he'd stolen her panties, and then had just run off through the woods like a common pervert. He went through his thoughts, trying to find a reason that would justify stealing her panties like that, but he could only find one: He was horny. And that wasn't a good enough reason.

Sure, he could give her multiple fish to make up for the quarter at most that he'd taken, and his conscience was demanding that he give her at least three whole fish to account for his selfishness, but what could he possibly give her to make up for stealing her panties?

He contemplated going back. He could turn around right now, march all the way back to her hut, and put them back. He could put the fish back, too. He'd starve, but that would be a fair punishment for running off with her property. Or, he might not even have the chance. She could be back by now, and would notice that her stuff was missing. And since there was no one else here, he'd be the only suspect, and she would hunt him down. He certainly wouldn't be very hard to find.

He took a breath and let it out slowly. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to stand up, walk out of the boat, go back to the hut, and put everything back. If she caught him, he would bow to her and beg her forgiveness. She could be as angry as she wanted, she could hit him, she could kill him, she could decide whatever punishment she wanted. He deserved it.

He stood up, then immediately sat back down. He was a coward. He'd never so much as broken a bone before, and that wasn't due to his heavy resilience. He'd never joined a sports team, never taken up skydiving or rock climbing. He wouldn't even stand upright on the roof when he'd gone to collect the neighbor's frisbee and hadn't let go of the window frame because he was so mortified of falling to the bushes below. He wanted to walk over there, but his legs felt like jelly.

He took a few deep breaths. He was feeling a bit light-headed. Perhaps it was from the run. Maybe it had something to do with the rations. Maybe his brain was telling him to reconsider. Maybe his lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him.

He lay down on the mattress and just took a few deep breaths. He looked again at the panties. They were pretty cute. Pink, cotton, trimmed with elastic lace and with a little white bow on the front. How did she even find these? Her grass skirt was fairly indicative of life on an island, but these... These were made in a factory, no doubt about it.

He brought them closer to his face, and he took a sniff. He immediately felt guilt, but his curiosity had won that battle. He'd never been so close to a girl's undergarments before. Or, he had, while it was still in the packaging. He'd been clothes shopping before. But this had been worn, and it smelled like her, or at least, he imagined that it did. He hadn't smelled her yet.

The smell was very faint. Fishy, yet salty. It actually didn't smell that much different from the ocean. Of course, he didn't expect her to have a washing machine, so he wasn't looking for a detergent, but it didn't smell nearly as bad as the locker room he'd used in Secondary School.

It was only then that he realised that he'd slipped his hand into his pants. He'd been so focused on enjoying the panties that he'd started to rub himself without thinking. His thoughts were as clear as mud right now, and he certainly felt clouded as he managed to pull his fingers away from his balls.

Of course, when he did manage to pull his hand away, he'd mashed the panties against his upper lip, and had been breathing in her scent while he wasn't paying attention.

Fuck it.

If he was too horny to concentrate, if it was directing blood flow from his brain to engorge his penis, if he was going to lose control of himself, he may as well help it along.

Unzipping his cargo shorts and pulling apart the hole at the front of his drawers, he slipped his cock out into the open air, gripped it tightly, and started to rub.

It wasn't nearly as good as it was at home. He always had a bottle of lotion next to his futon, fortified with vitamins A, C and E. He didn't know what they did, but it helped his hand glide over his dick. For the first time in almost a decade, he was going in dry, and it felt awful by comparison, his skin constantly binding up instead of the seamless slide that he was used to.

And yet, despite that, he didn't really care. He'd let himself be taken by the thought of what had just been rubbing against these panties. The thought of her wearing them and what was hiding beneath them kept him going, and dry or not, he was going to cum.

One of the benefits of having his hand be so rough was that he lasted a lot longer. Going at it as hard as he was, he managed a whole ten minutes. Considering the fact that his normal nightly routine was to just rub one out into a sock and just fall asleep, ten minutes was way longer than usual.

He did fall asleep, however. After cumming hard all over his shirt, he couldn't keep his eyes open, and he passed out with her panties resting right in the middle of his face.