Chapter 15: The Island

"Tracy?" Brandon tried to wake his sister, who lay face up on the beach, the chest of her exhausted body moving slowly up and down, letting him know that she was still alive.

"Speak to me, Pip-squeak," he called softly, praying that she'd survived the ordeal of swimming from the reef, across the lagoon, then crawling up the beach, all without swallowing too much of the Pacific Ocean. There was a growing element of panic in his need to bring her back to consciousness. And once he had accomplished that, there would still the matter of seeing what shape Celeste was in.

Giving his entire attention to the woman carrying his baby, Brandon rested a hand gently on her swollen belly, and was instantly rewarded by the sensation of their baby kicking. A feeling of partial relief flooded his consciousness. The baby had survived, at least, although his attention was now divided between the condition of his sister and a low groan from behind him. He rolled over on the sand to investigate further, as his lover struggled to regain consciousness.

"Angel? Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" he asked futilely, for the older of the two women still wasn't fully cognisant. But she did respond by raising an arm, bent at the elbow. Only once she had did Celeste grant herself the luxury of letting it drop back down again.

"I'll live," she finally managed to respond, "unfortunately. Gawd, I feel like something that was washed up on a beach!"

"If I said you were, would you believe me?" he tried to rouse her with a stab at something approaching humour.

His words had an effect, but not in the way he'd hoped. Celeste struggled to overcome her exhaustion. As her brain fought its way out of the fog she still felt inside, her first concern was her sister-in-law, with the resulting panic of not knowing whether Tracy had survived or not.

"Tracy? Sweetie?" Celeste's tone of fear chased over the man laying next to her as it searched for the third member of their crew.

"She's alive," Brandon tried to assure the panicky woman, "and so's the baby. I think she cut her foot on the coral, though. Are you going to be okay if I go find something to bind that gash with? Maybe I should just let her sleep for a while. It looks like the salt water has stopped any infection. How about you? How are you doing?"

Celeste started to sit up, then was overcome with both nausea and an uncontrollable coughing fit as her body tried desperately to expel more of the sea water she'd ingested. Brandon lightly slapped her on the back as he tried to help clear her airway.

"Shit," she cursed as control of her breathing slowly returned, "I think I drank half that fucking lagoon! I'd kill for some fresh water, right about now. Do we even have any?"

"Maybe back on the boat," Brandon informed her, "but I haven't had time to look for any on this island yet. I don't know what to suggest, Angel. I was too busy trying to save our sorry asses to worry about how the hell we're going to survive. Gawd, I think I let both of you down, big time. Can you forgive me?"

The memory of their collision with the underwater reef came back to Celeste as more of that fog slowly lifted in her mind, with an accompanying question as to the extent of the damage to the Gon Waki 2.

"How bad is she?" she asked, not yet able to focus enough to assess the state of their ocean home that lay somewhere near the lagoon's entrance.

"She's done, I'm afraid," Brandon gave her the bad news. "When we hit that reef, it opened her up like a tin can. If she's not too deep, we might be able to salvage some of the stuff on her, but she's not going anywhere on her own."

"We've got to get Tracy off this beach and under some shelter," Celeste turned her attentions back to the welfare of her sister-in-law. "I sure hope you can move her, though. Just breathing is more than I can manage. I'm going to be useless to you for a while."

"Let me check for broken bones, cuts, bruises, or anywhere that needs bandages or stitches," Brandon pleaded. "Unfortunately, our ship's doctor is kind of out of it, so you'll have to put up with me until she comes to."

Celeste lifted her head to look at the sand around her, still feeling too weak to move anything else of her body.

"I don't see any signs of blood," she observed, "so I'm not leaking. My right arm hurts like hell, though. Think I broke it again? Goddamn that Darryl! Of all the things to break, he had to pick that right arm, didn't he?" she referred to the incident back in Chicago that had been so instrumental in bringing her into Brandon and Tracy's lives.

"Just lay back and relax," Brandon commanded as he moved to her other side, then began to run his hands gently the length of her arm. Only after checking its entire length, as well as the rest of her, did he release his findings.

"Can't find anything broken, but you've got some pulled muscles, I think, and probably more than your share of bruises. Those, I can't do much about. We'll just have to give them time to heal on their own, but until they do, nothing strenuous for you, Young Lady."

"No cuts or gashes?" she enquired of him.

"Nope. Looks like you might live, after all," his relieved tone let her know.

"Damn!" she exclaimed. "I was beginning to look forward to another good shot of that anaesthetic Scotch, too."

"You mean the stuff in a bottle that's at the bottom of the lagoon? That stuff?" he enquired of her, his worry now in check, and his tone a lot lighter than it had been before they found themselves heading for that damned reef.

"Some Captain you turn out to be," she moaned, more out of frustration than anything else. "The most important thing on the ship, and you let it go to the bottom? If I survive this ordeal, I'm going to mutiny!"

"If you do, you'll get thirty lashes for trying," he snickered in an effort to buoy her spirits a little more.

"That's all?" she joined in his suggestive humour. "Only thirty? Gawd, you're a real sadistic creep!"

Suddenly feeling a burning need to emotionally connect with his crew member, Brandon leaned over and kissed her lips, and their intimacy grew into something more passionate. With each lash of his tongue on hers Celeste became more insistent for his kiss.

"Not quite what I was thinking of for water, but your kiss is a magical source of the moisture I need, and it works wonderfully," she explained. "Got some of the salt out of my throat. Talk about a double bonus. Relieved my throat, and made my toes curl to boot. Who'd have thought, huh?"

With that, she smiled warmly at him, then lightly brushed his lips once more. Their recuperation was interrupted by Tracy's own coughing fit, interspersed with groans of discomfort as she, too, fought to regain consciousness. With a need to determine his sister's condition, Brandon rolled back over to her side.

"Easy, Pip-squeak," his voice tried to reassure her that she'd be alright, just as long as she gave herself the time to overcome the ordeal. "Where does it hurt?"

"Water," she croaked. "Need water. Can't swallow. Too dry."

"Sorry, Sis, but I haven't found any yet," he apologized, feeling woefully lacking as a provider for the two women.

"Kiss her," Celeste ordered. "One of those wet ones like you gave me."

"What? Kiss her? How's that going to help?" he couldn't believe what she'd just suggested.

"Saliva," Celeste explained. "It'll help moisten her mouth, and once she starts salivating on her own, she'll lose that constricted throat. As long as one of us isn't dry-mouthed, we'll be able to keep each other going until we find water. It worked on me."

Brandon followed his lover's advice and began to kiss his sister's parched lips. At first, she tried to push him away, but as the relief from his saliva eased the dryness of her mouth, Tracy relaxed and let the moisture do its job. As its effects overcame more of her discomfort, she opened to him willingly, until she found herself a little short of breath. Only then did she push him away lightly.

"Damn!" she softly cursed, clutching her swollen belly. "He thinks he's still swimming in that lagoon. Babe, your kid can sure kick," she moaned in her brother's ear as he eased away from her lips.

"Is he okay?" Brandon's worried voice enquired.

"He's fine, by the feel of the way he's kicking," she tried to assure him. "I don't think a little salt water is going to hurt him too much, but it didn't do me a lot of good. I cut my foot on something, though, and all I can remember is how painful it felt. I'm too exhausted to sit up and find out how bad it is. Can you look at it for me? And while I think of it, how's Celeste?"

"I'm okay, Sweetie," her sister-in-law's voice settled any doubts Tracy might have had. "Swallowed half that lagoon, but other than that..."

"I feel fried," Tracy admitted, "but what about the ship? How bad is she?"

"Gone, I'm afraid, Sis," Brandon gave her the bad news. "She sank at the entrance to the lagoon when we hit the reef. Right now, though, let's worry about our own survival. Let me have a look at that foot. You've lost some blood, and I was worried about infection, but between the bleeding and the salt water, maybe that'll be enough of an antiseptic to clean the wound out. If I can find a big palm leaf, I want to bind it up so it can scab over. What else did you do to yourself? Let me check."

Tracy lay still as her brother's gentle hands took inventory, wincing a few times as he found some tender spots, but overall, she felt like she was intact. His main concern was that gash on the sole of her foot, although with judicious cleaning, an inspection revealed that it was nowhere near as bad as he'd originally thought or expected.

"Looks like we got lucky with that foot of yours," he informed his sister. "You'll be a little weak for a while from the blood loss, though."

"Why were you so worried about cutting myself on that coral?" she wanted to know.

"It tends to cause blood poisoning if the micro organisms get into the bloodstream, although in your case, it looks like the salt water and the bleeding flushed it out. I'm going to find a palm leaf that's big enough to use as a bandage."

Once he'd fabricated a makeshift bandage, it took Brandon a few minutes to lift Tracy onto her one good foot so that he could move her to the shade of the palm trees at the top of the beach. He settled her there as comfortably as possible, then returned to move Celeste to where his sister rested. But as she attempted to stand, a searing pain in her back had the woman pulling up short.

"Ow! Jeezuz!" he heard her complaining shriek. "Feels like I sprained it," she localized the pain's point of emanation, her hand reflexively reaching to where it felt the worst. Brandon ran a hand gently up her backbone, starting at the valley between her lower cheeks and slowly moving up to the base of her neck.

"Any tingling in your feet or legs?" he asked, and was answered negatively by the shake of a head. "You've got a nasty bruise coming up right here," as he pointed out the location in the hollow just above her backside. "You didn't hit the coral, did you?"

"No, but I think I smacked it on the railing as I was jumping overboard. Damn, that hurts!" she filled him in.

"I don't think you've damaged your spine. Can you walk, or should I carry you? We've got to get you off this beach before you burn."

Celeste struggled to her feet gently, the pain slowing her down but not immobilizing her completely. Her lover offered the support of his shoulder, taking as much weight as he could. Eventually, they arrived where Tracy lay under a tree, and he eased Celeste down beside his sister.

"Where the hell are we, anyway?" Tracy asked, still feeling disoriented. "I don't remember seeing any islands on the chart the last time I looked at it. Gawd, that feels like a million years ago."

"No idea where we are exactly, Pip-squeak," he gave her the bad news. "Somewhere between New Guinea and the Philippines, but that's about as close as I can figure out. As a guess, I'd say about two hundred miles southwest of Davao."

"Looks like you got your wish for somewhere isolated. Not exactly in the middle of a shipping lane, are we?" she asked of him.

"Afraid not, Sis," he confirmed, not quite prepared for the funk that the news put her into.

"How long can we survive here?" she tried to find some hope.

"It looks like a fair sized island. If we can find water and I can salvage enough off the boat before the waves finish her off, we might have a chance. What's going to make it tough is your pregnancy and Celeste's injuries. Unfortunately, all the tools and supplies we'll need are still on the boat," he summed up their current status.

"I can't just sit here, Brandon," she complained. "What can I do to help?"

"I might have some bumps and bruises," Celeste added to her sister-in-law's offer, "but I'm not dead yet. Tell me how I can help, too. The last time I looked, we were all in this together. Knowing you, Lover, you won't quit until ten minutes after your last breath."

"What I need is for you girls to rest and let your bodies heal. Until then, I've got to build some kind of shelter, and I'll have to retrieve something off the boat to do that with," he set his priorities.

"When?" was all his sister asked.

"For which? The shelter, or salvaging?" his enquiry went out to her.

"Either," she gave him the option, "or both. It sounds like we've got to do salvage first to get the tools. If it's still intact, why couldn't we untie the tender, let it float to the surface, and load it with whatever we can retrieve? You're going to need something to bring all that stuff ashore with, and I can swim out to help. It's just a matter of deciding when."

"You're not swimming our there with that foot, Pip-squeak," he informed her, "and you've got a baby to look after. Paddling around in a lagoon is out of the question."

"Brandon, if we don't build ourselves a decent shelter, we won't survive anyway, and unless we get off our asses, we won't live long enough for this baby to even be born. I'll be careful, but this is something we have to do. So my question is still, when do we get started?"

"You're determined, aren't you?" he asked, and the emphatic nod of her head answered his question. "I guess there's no time like the present, then. I sure could use something wet first, and I doubt it would break your heart if I found something for you girls."

Brandon scrounged around, finding several conveniently fallen coconuts not that far from where Celeste still lay. When he brought them back, there was a demonstration for the women on how to crack open the shell and release enough milk to temporarily slake their thirst, and the resulting bowl-shaped husks could be used to collect rainwater, if they ever got any.

After being refreshed, Brandon swam out to the wreck of the Gon Waki 2, then dove down to release the tender. As soon as the tie-down ropes were untied, the little inflatable shot up to the surface, but instead of following it, he took a minute to survey the submerged hull, and found that the boat was still impaled on the reef's outcropping. The resulting hole precluded ever being able to repair the ship, but until there was a large storm, he hoped that she'd remain there long enough to remove as much as he could. And before returning to the surface, he also took time to pull out a pair of swim fins from the deck locker where they'd been stored. Those flippers would extend the distance he could travel between breaths.

Over the next two days, Tracy and her brother devoted all their energies to salvaging as much off the boat as they could, taking advantage of the few times that the waters were calm enough that they weren't in constant danger of being slammed against either the rocks or the coral. Brandon would bring items up, then heft them into the inflatable. When he'd filled it with as much as it would comfortably handle, Tracy would row ashore, and with Celeste's limited help, unload their treasures before heading back for more.

Something that Brandon had found easy to retrieve was the brightly coloured spinnaker, which became a combination sun shelter and windbreak for their protection through the night. The idea expanded later to include the mainsail, which took time and several dives to release from the mast and boom. The mainsail was relegated to covering and protecting their salvage from the sun and any rain that might eventually fall. He'd hoped to retrieve the jib while he was at it, but decided that was a job for some time in the future when they weren't subject to such a tight time frame for reliable shelter.

The strenuous labour took its toll on Tracy, despite her brother's insistence that she take it easy. The upside was that after three days rest, Celeste's back was now feeling a lot better, and she took over where Tracy had left off. Between her and Brandon, they spent a full day gathering bamboo for the shelter's frame and palm fronds for wall and roof panels. His crew mate had pushed herself to the limits dragging the materials back to the chosen site, leaving Brandon to finish what she'd started. Relying exclusively on himself, it was another full day before he had everything assembled.

"Think you girls could stand a day off?" he enquired that evening. "We're going to have to find water, then figure out how to get it down here. I'd like to take a day and do some exploring before we start building, just in case I run into a better location."

"I'll be okay by myself," Tracy volunteered, "but I'd feel a lot better if you didn't go off on your own. Maybe Celeste can go with you? How's the back, Sis?"

"Better," she advised. "Not good, but better. If we take it easy, I might be able to keep tabs on your goofy brother tomorrow. It's you that I'm worried about, though. What if something happens while we're gone?"

'Nothing's going to happen," Tracy defeated her sister-in-law's objections. "The baby's not due for another month yet, and despite his mother acting like she's half her age, he's fine. It's our Captain that I'm worried about. You've seen how much he's done in the last three days. How the hell he keeps going is beyond me."

"I'll take care of him, don't you worry, Sweetie," Celeste assured her. "Maybe the exercise will do me some good and a long walk might even get some of these knots out of my muscles."

In spite of being tired that evening from all his work, Brandon found himself at the mercy of his crew mates, although Tracy wasn't up to much more than being their love victim. But she loved the attention the other two gave her, especially the intense orgasms that always resulted when both lovers used their tongues on her simultaneously. She felt a little guilty that she'd received so much pleasure, but hadn't been able to give as much in return.

"You rest, Sweetie," her sister-in-law strongly suggested. "You need it, and besides, I can give your brother the kind of care he needs. It would be nice to do him together, like we did before you were as big as a house, although I doubt he wants to wait that long. Would you be upset if I did?"

"No, Sis," Tracy let her sister-in-law know. "You take care of him, but don't wear him out too much. Our baby still needs a Daddy. Want me to go into the other room so you two can have some privacy?" she joked, for the spinnaker still formed a one-room tent.

"Sure hope you can hold onto that sense of humour, Sis," her brother hopefully wondered. "Surviving on this island could be difficult if we don't find water. In the meantime, you girls had better get some sleep."

"Shut up, Brandon," she gently ordered. "That girl beside you needs some tender care and loving right now. If you do to her what you did to your sister, she'll be out like a light soon enough. But wake me before you leave?"

"I will, Pip-squeak," he promised, before adding, "I do love you, you know."

"I know, big brother. My pussy's still twitching from what you did for me. I love you, too."

Brandon rolled onto his back, and felt Celeste curl up on his chest. But as much as he loved her, and wanted her, not having his sister included in their lovemaking just didn't feel right to him.

"Angel, would you mind if we didn't make love tonight?" he asked her. "It's not the same when Tracy's not with us."

"I don't mind, Lover. You're right, though. It feels strange, somehow, to have you and not her. I know we've done it when she couldn't be there, but I wouldn't feel right, or loved properly, especially when she's laying right beside us."

Celeste laid her head back on Brandon's chest, and was joined a moment later by her sister-in-law, who wore a happy smile for the warm words her two lovers had exchanged as they expressed their need and consideration of her.

The sun was up and busily warming the air of the island when Celeste woke the next morning. Instinctively, she stretched up and kissed her Captain's lips, then repeated her actions for her fellow crew member's benefit. That was all it took to pull the two others out of their slumber, leave a smile on their faces, and start everyone's day with a healthy dose of optimism.

They shared a meal of coconut milk and breadfruit before the two explorers left. Brandon made his sister promise not to exert herself while they were gone, and Celeste insisted that the mother-to-be stay in the shade, just in case.

"Get out of here, you two," Tracy protested. "Just don't be too long? I don't think I could go through a whole night alone if I didn't know you were safe."

"If anything comes up, Sis, I'll phone," her brother facetiously teased.

"Goof!" she called him, then kissed him deeply and passionately. "There's two of us here that need you to come back safe and sound," she reminded him. "Both of you," she added. "I'm not going through labour all by myself. Understand, Sis?"

"We're just going to explore the island, not emigrate!" Celeste's tone of mock exasperation answered. "You take good care of my niece, though," she tacked on.

"I'll look after your nephew, too," Tracy giggled, then allowed herself to become lost in her sister-in-law's loving embrace.

Tracking through the jungle-like growth slowed them down, and took more energy than Brandon was happy to see Celeste expend. But after almost an hour of slow struggling, they came upon a game trail that headed in approximately the direction they wanted to go, and he veered onto it.

"Looks like there might be some kind of animals on this island. I wonder what they are, and whether they might be a decent food source?"

"Think they're dangerous?" Celeste questioned. "Maybe cougars?"

"Cats wouldn't survive if there wasn't something for them to hunt. Keep your ears and eyes open, though," he told her. "We could run into wild boars, and they can be nasty when they're angry or frightened."

They walked for another hour, with the going a lot easier now that they were on a trail. It was when Celeste slipped on something that Brandon realized what had made that path.

"These droppings are fresh," he pointed out, "and as a guess, I'd say they came from some kind of sheep or goat. Hope it's goats, so we can use the Nannies for milk. And if there really are animals on this island, it implies that they know where the water is. We may be in luck yet."

They followed the trail for another hour, finally coming out on a grassed clearing on a plateau that overlooked most of the island. Again, there were fresh signs of animals, and the two walked as quietly and softly as they could. Their efforts were rewarded by the sight of a mixed herd of goats and sheep, and it was all Brandon could do to keep from whooping for joy.

"That's the food problem taken care of," he shared his elation with Celeste. "Now all we have to do is figure out where they're getting water."

Striking out towards a cliff that marked the far edge of the clearing, with Celeste taking the lead this time, they halted just before the edge itself.

"Shhh!" Celeste hissed at him. "What's that noise I'm hearing?"

Brandon listened carefully to what sounded like a waterfall below them, but out of their view.

"We'll have to get to it from down below," he advised, "but I think we found water! Maybe somewhere closer to it than we are now would make a better building site?"

The trip back took less time than the one out, and despite being tired from the exertion, Brandon shared their find with Tracy, hugging her and swinging her around in his arms.

"Easy, Lover!" Celeste reprimanded him. "You'll send her into labour if you don't settle down, and if you do, we could be in real trouble. Have some consideration, would you?"

"How far?" Tracy ignored her sister-in-law's concerns. "To the water, I mean.'

"Couple of miles, maybe, if we can get to it from the beach. We'd never be able to get up to the clearing from there, though. Tomorrow, I'm going to go have a good look. Would you mind sleeping under the spinnaker for a few more nights if I did? There might be a better building site that's closer to the outflow."

"Can we all go?" Tracy enquired, her enthusiasm levels now almost as bad as her brother's.

"Do you think you're up to it, Pip-squeak?" he asked her opinion.

"Fresh water to drink, the chance to wash all this salt and grime off, and you want to know what?" she lambasted him. "Damn rights I'm up to it! Do you have any idea how badly I need a bath?"

That night, they celebrated their finds by making love for what must have been hours. Tracy succumbed to Celeste's lips on her pussy, even as she slid her own up and down Brandon's erect manhood, swallowing his offered seed when he climaxed, and joining him moments later when she, too, soared among the clouds of delirious pleasure as her sister-in-law slurped on her sex. Then the siblings turned on their lover. Tracy attacked her lips, then her breasts, while her brother made sure she was dripping wet, then filled her with his re-awoken erection. As his sister moved further down Celeste's body, Brandon rocked back on his haunches, still inside, and made room for Tracy to get to her sister-in-law's clit. Tracy teased and tickled that little button mercilessly, and as Celeste suffered through a series of intense and insistence orgasm, her convulsions sent Brandon over the top as he filled her with more of his semen. At one point, it became unclear to him whether he felt Celeste's sex or his sister's tongue as it licked his shaft while he plunged into Celeste as deep as he could, then pulled most of the way out. All he knew was that the two women gave him one of the most intense cums he could remember – and he could remember quite a few, for there'd been more than he could count since they'd set sail from Naples.

The aroma of Tracy's arousal wafted across Celeste's nostrils, and following her nose, she let her tongue explore the flavourful cavern of her sister-in-law's slit. Tracy shuddered in reaction, something that both of her lovers felt happen, and shared a knowing smile between themselves as a result.

"No more!" Tracy groaned. "Not tonight, Sis. If you make me cum that hard one more time, I'll go into labour for sure. It's too early. Our baby needs four more weeks if we want him to be healthy. You do want him to be healthy, don't you?"

"What I want, right now," Celeste let her sister-in-law know, "is to taste you one more time. There's just something about a woman with child that makes her irresistible. Isn't that right, Lover?"

"She's always irresistible," Brandon corrected, "but she's right, Sis. You do taste good when you're pregnant."

"Oh, and I didn't taste good before?" she teased him right back. "You just want me barefoot, in the kitchen, and preferably pregnant! Gawd, I'm stuck on a deserted island with a chauvinist!"

Leaning back over her sister-in-law's still-quivering tummy, Tracy softly kissed her brother's wilting manhood, then gently licked off their combined juices.

"You may be a chauvinist, big brother," she smoothed his ruffled feathers, "but if I have to spend the rest of my life with one, you'd be him. I love you. Both of you."

"We know," he endorsed, "and we love you, too, Sis. Besides, who else would put up with me the way you do?"

"Me," he heard Celeste coo. "Even if you are a chauvinist."

The three rearranged themselves so that the women were curled up on Brandon's chest, and all of them were soon sound asleep.

There was a moist chill in the air when they woke early the next morning, and a look at the sky indicated that they were about to get rained on. Brandon leaped out of bed and scrounged every possible container he could find that would hold the precious water they needed and might soon receive. When it came, the downpour was torrential, but only lasted for an hour or so. By mid-day, the sun was out, the ground was drying, and the air cooled by a light breeze off the ocean.

Still worried about whether his sister was up to walking any distance on that injured foot of hers, Brandon considered delaying their exploration one more day, but was overruled by two very anxious women. They set out just after mid-day, and covered the first mile in close to a half hour. While they walked, Brandon kept looking at the terrain just above the tree line, then stopped at a particularly inviting spot.

"Take a breather, girls," he ordered. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. There's something I want to have a look at up there," as he indicated a rise just beyond what they could see.

He was gone for almost ten minutes, but came back with a broad grin on his face.

"There's a bit of a bench just behind those trees that's almost dead level. Just enough slope for drainage, but it would make a fantastic spot to build a house on. It's not too far from where I think that waterfall comes out, and about the same distance back to the game trail. If we cleared some of the scrub out, we'd have a great view of the lagoon, and be able to see any ships that pass by. That's where I'd like to build."

"Sounds like you don't expect us to be rescued any time soon," Celeste accused. "You're talking about something fairly permanent, aren't you?"

"May as well plan on being here for a while," he tried to sound optimistic.

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" Tracy's worry accosted him.

"Could easily be, Sis, but not for a long time. I can think of worse places than this to spend the rest of my life."

"And what about our baby? Is this going to be his whole world? One little island?"

"Would you rather raise him in some place like Chicago? I know this might not be the most ideal place to grow up, but it could be a lot worse. There's enough food to feed all of us, fresh water, and if I get off my lazy ass, we'll have a decent roof over our heads. The three of us can teach him all he needs to know, and most of what he wants to learn. We don't have to worry about crime, taxes, or people sticking their noses in where they don't belong. But the most important thing? There's a lot of love between the three of us. A child could do a lot worse."

"And after we're gone? What then?" she covered her biggest concern.

"I guess we'll just have to give him a sister, or a cousin" Brandon offered one solution. "With a little luck, she'll be just as wonderful as you and his aunt."

"Don't look at me," Celeste sounded a little down. "I had one chance to be a mother, and I lost my baby. The doctors told me that I'd never be able to get pregnant again. So far, they've been right, too. Damned doctors, anyway!"

"It'll all work out, Angel. Who knows? Doctors have been wrong before."

"So you keep telling me," she sounded unconvinced.

Brandon and Celeste spent every day of the next three weeks, from sunup until sundown, working on their new house. He'd designed it so that there were four main rooms, a covered veranda that looked out on the lagoon, and ventilation that would keep the interior cool and comfortable through the heat of the day. Tracy did what she could, but found herself being told to relax more than anything else. In spite of that, though, she was definitely a part of the building crew, handing her brother tools or materials as they were needed, keeping the two workers fed, making sure they had water to keep from dehydrating, and doing everything she could to keep their spirits up.

For the week after their new home was completed, Brandon spent his time making furniture, including a rudimentary crib for their soon-to-be born child. He'd even devised, in his mind, a way to get water from the falls to the house, but conceded that any cooking would have to be done outside, as there wasn't anything he could come up with to act as a stove.

The house was everything that Brandon could make it, and almost everything the women had ever dreamed they'd live in. Both Celeste and Tracy spent their days adding those final touches that turn a house into a home. When they'd finished, even Brandon found himself taking the time to enjoy the fruits of their labours as he relaxed on the shaded veranda, mulling over ideas to make the place even better, and how he'd proceed with those improvements. In the back of his mind, he spent several days considering the viability of electrical generation, including distribution, and appliances that would utilize the energy. Some of the needed items might be salvageable off the Gon Waki 2, although he'd still have to fabricate many of them from whatever materials he could find.

That first night in their now completed home proved to be memorable for all them. Tracy had curled up on her brother's chest, as had become her custom, while allowing herself to become lost in the sensual mystique of running her fingers through the hair on it, lightly teasing his nipples in the process. Brandon found the latter arousing, which brought out the lustful animal in him. By the time his sister began to flick her tongue over the other rising nipple, his manhood had also reacted, and Celeste took advantage of that to express her own desire. With all three in an lustful state, it wasn't long before they found themselves making love to each other.

As much as Tracy wanted to feel her brother deep inside her, there was an underlying concern that it could jeopardize the baby, especially with her so close to her due date. To accommodate that worry, both Brandon and Celeste pleasured his sister orally, all while the older woman lay on her lover's stomach as she took him deep inside. With Tracy laying on her side and Brandon on his back, their positions could only be described as a "modified sixty-nine". With one woman sliding up and down on his shaft while they both licked and lapped intently on his sister's sex, the three exploding in simultaneous, mind-shattering orgasms. But Celeste was insatiable that night, and even after Brandon had filled her with his seed, she wanted more of both her lovers.

With Tracy now using her brother's thigh as a pillow, she sucked on Brandon's deflated manhood until he was revived enough to plunge back inside his lover once more, then made sure he was where her sister-in-law wanted and needed him. Once Celeste was re-impaled, she and Brandon attacked his sister's wet and still excited pussy again, not relenting until she'd cum before they allowed their own orgasms. By the time he'd filled his lover with his fertile fluid three more times, Tracy begged off from suffering through any more climaxes.

"Sweetie, you taste so damned good," Celeste begged for more, and Brandon concurred, his tongue taking intermittent swipes at his sister's distended lower lips, generating spasmodic shudders that the other two gloried in as they tried to send the expectant woman on another euphoric flight of love and passion.

"Gawd, if you do that to me one more time," Tracy complained over her exhausted state, "I'll taste like amniotic fluid, I swear! You two are trying to send me into labour, aren't you?"

The scene was repeated again the next night, with all three finally succumbing to their exhaustion and falling into a deep sleep. And in the morning, they were still in exactly the same position that they'd dropped off in.

Through the day, Tracy's energy levels seemed to wax and wane, while she let the other two know of her growing discomfort. Brandon and Celeste went out of their way to accommodate, pamper, and wait on her hand and foot, generally spoiling her as much as they could. In the back of everyone's minds, they all knew that the baby would arrive soon, and an air of excited anticipation permeated the little house.

As they laid on and over each other after having made love that evening, Brandon was totally relaxed, his head resting on his sister's thigh while Celeste remained perched on his slowly deflating manhood. In an act of pure love, he stretched up and softly kissed Tracy's outer lips. She convulsed as the first of her contractions hit, and immediately washed her brother's face. Brandon found himself unable to react fast enough to move his head, getting the full impact of her breaking water, and the resulting bath in amniotic fluid.

"I sure hope this doesn't mean our little one is pissed at me," he joked. "Looks like he's ready to come and see his Daddy and Auntie, though. You okay, Sis?"

"I think you're about to meet our baby, big brother," she confirmed, uncomfortable from her first contractions, but happily anticipating the results of her pending labours, 'but I'm sorry for almost drowning you like that."

"Don't be," he reassured her. "That's one kiss I'll remember for the rest of my life."

"Sounds like it's time for me to play midwife," Celeste joyfully announced.

"Maybe one of you girls could explain to me why it is that babies always pick the middle of the night to be born?" Brandon mentioned, mostly to keep everyone's spirits high, but he never received an answer.

Celeste sent Brandon off to take care of whatever errands she could think of, mostly to keep the man out of her hair while she concentrated on helping her sister-in-law to deliver. As the contractions came closer together and stronger, he offered the edge of his hand for her to bite on, in an attempt to lessen the pain, until Tracy was fully dilated. By the time the baby's head started to crown at the opening of his mother's birth canal, there were bruise marks from her teeth. But instead of worrying or complaining, Brandon wore those marks like commemorative medals.

Celeste traded places with Brandon and walked him through all the steps as he delivered his offspring, only taking over once the baby was out in the air of his new home. She did instruct the new father on how to clear the airway, then waited with the proud new parents for the placenta to drop. By the time they finished, Tracy was completely spent. Brandon spread his attention between his sister and their healthy and perfectly formed son, and congratulated Celeste on becoming an aunt. The mess they'd created in the bedroom could wait until morning, he felt, but his lover wasn't about to defer the clean-up work. She and Brandon tackled the job of returning their bedroom to a sanitary condition, while Tracy held and cuddled the newest addition to their family, Jason Nereus Winters.

The next few days were a madhouse of activity, as Brandon and Celeste continued to pamper the new mother, who glowed with love for her son and his father. There was even enough of her affections to share with her loving sister-in-law, who absorbed the attention like a sponge.

With the baby now a week old, Brandon took the time to study what would be necessary to construct the water supply system he had in mind, and was busily turning it from an abstract idea in his head into a reality. Celeste sat on the veranda, her nephew tucked into the crook of her arm, and her sister-in-law's head pressing against her shoulder. The scene caused Brandon to stop long enough to etch that vision in his memory for future retrieval.

"Looks like someone's son is getting spoiled," he summed up, that grin of pride telling the world that he felt elated his son had such a privilege even available.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Celeste beamed. "Looks a lot like his Daddy, too."

"He has you to thank for helping him come into the world, Angel," he told her.

"You did most of it," she contradicted his statement. "All I did was try to give you directions."

"I needed your help, though," he reminded her. "Without it, I'd have never been able to do it all. You'd better be there when his little sister comes along. I'll never remember all of it."

That's when Celeste looked up at her lover with a star-like twinkle in her eyes.

"I'll be there, lover – but it won't be his sister. It'll be his cousin," she radiated pure joy.

"Umm, how do you figure that?" he couldn't quite put all the pieces in place.

"I think we made a baby of our own the other night, just before Tracy delivered," she shared with him, her tone one of pure love and adoration for her lover.

"I thought you said you couldn't conceive again, Sis?" Tracy advanced, hoping that her sister-in-law's original claim was false.

"No," Brandon corrected, "the doctors said she couldn't. If she's right, and she's pregnant, it looks like they may have made a mistake, doesn't it? But what makes you think you might be, Angel?"

"A woman just knows," was all Celeste could offer as a reason, "but can I ask you two to do me a really big favour?" the future mother begged.

"Anything you want, Angel. Just name it and you've got it," the second-time father promised.

"If a ship comes along to rescue us, can we all go hide somewhere until they leave? This is where I want to raise our daughter," she became adamant.

"A daughter, huh? What makes you so sure it'll be a girl?" Brandon queried.

"Don't argue with a pregnant woman, Babe," Tracy warmly warned him.

"Sounds like she wants to stay on this island, doesn't it, Pip-squeak?" Brandon addressed his sister. "How do you feel about that?"

"You've made a home for us here, Brandon," she started. "Maybe Jason wasn't conceived on this island, but this is where he lives, and so do all the important people in my life. Do you really think I'd want to go anywhere else?"

"There's another benefit to staying on this island," Celeste suggested, just to cement her argument.

"Which is?" Brandon asked, not sure what his lover had in her mind.

"We don't have to shovel snow," she reminded both of them, and that observation became the reason for their laughter.

"If this is going to be our home, maybe we should give the island a name," Tracy suggested once she'd regained control after her laugh attack.

"Why not?" Brandon agreed. "We could name it after the boat. Gon Waki Island? That's one that would never make it onto the world atlas, but who cares. It's our island, and we can call it anything we want. Right?"

"I'm not so sure about that name," Celeste gave her opinion. "I can just imagine that name as part of a postal address. It would sound like some kind of asylum, and I don't think of it in that way. Maybe we can come up with a better name."

"Well, as we're essentially castaways, how about Robinson Caruso Island? And as a bonus, every week can have two Fridays in it, one for each of you," Brandon gave his idea room to sprawl on the debate floor.

"That's terrible!" Tracy cast her negative vote. "We could call it Barrel Island, because you're scraping the bottom of one with a name like that. But I do have an idea that might be appropriate. Remember when we got to Oena Island? I distinctly remember Celeste saying that she thought we'd arrived in Paradise. Our little island might not be the best one on the face of the earth, but it's ours, and it's home. Any reason we couldn't call it Paradise Island? Or Paradise for short? You have to admit that it's about as close as we'll ever get."

"It's the only place we'll ever get to," Brandon reminded her, "but you're right, Sis. It's about as idyllic as anything I could dream of. I like that name."

"Me too," Celeste added her vote to the final tally, making it unanimous.

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paradise!" Tracy exclaimed in her happiness of their acceptance.

"That's twice you've come up with a really appropriate name, Sis," Brandon reminded her. "First it was the boat, back in Naples, just after we bought her, and now here. You're getting good at this, aren't you?"

Tracy turned her attention to the young one in her arms, nuzzling him softly and lovingly.

"Promise me that you won't take after your father?" she begged their son. "He's can be a real goof sometimes."