text: Momoe came to with coughs racking her frame. There was something hard and slick under her chest. Something else was pushing at her back without pause, and two warm hairy pillars were bounding her on either side. She tried to rise and realized, from the rocking, that she was in a small boat. Smells gave her another clue: she was in a fishing boat. Her conscious feelings of her environment widened. She coughed some more and her chest ached. The hands stopped pummeling her. She felt something soft and heavy, rather pleasant, leave her back and a rough voice, trying to speak kindly, said "You are all right now?"
  
  Weakly, she nodded, then became suddenly aware of her nudity. She sat up and the world swam before her. She was conscious of a hard arm and shoulder trying to support her, and a bottle was pressed to her lips. She drank, then coughed some more, but the fiery liquor spread warmth through her body and she relaxed somewhat, knowing by now that she was not dead. She leaned against the warmth and again, the consciousness of her nudity returned. She wondered why she had bothered taking off her clothes when she had jumped into the waters. She had looked for Saburo the following day, but no one had seen him at his small workshop. He had not returned that night, nor the day after. Despondency and the realization that she had been taken for a fool gnawed at her. She felt the eyes of her neighbors on her, as if they knew she had been a foolish girl, and an abandoned one at that. In a fit of despair she had wandered off, distancing herself from the city and the shame it held for her. Finally she had resolved to end her life, hoping for some happier existence in the afterlife. The smell of fish in a rocking boat was obviously not it.
  
  Her eyes focused and she stared at her rescuer. He still held her patiently. She recoiled in shock. He was as naked as she.
  
  Momoe covered her mouth, then her breasts. She flushed scarlet in her confusion, and he looked on amusedly.
  
  "What's the matter, do you swim with your clothes?"
  
  She blushed and lowered her head. "I wasn't swimming ..."
  
  "I know," he laughed. "But I do. In an' out th'water the whole day. We get many like you: wanting to drown themselves. Changed your mind, I hope? No need to kill yourself is there? Sure got a nice body, shame to waste it." He said cheerfully. His hips jerked involuntarily.
  
  Suddenly the awareness of what she was looking at impinged on her confusion. In lowering her face she found herself staring in incomprehension at a long dangling member between his thighs. It grew, long and thick; and she thought, thickening, from a hairy bush that covered his lower belly. For a moment she was just fascinated. She wondered why he had a wisp of straw tied to the end: aside from that and a similar one that held his topknot in place, he was naked. Then to her wonderment it started swelling, jerking upwards in irregular steps. The realization of what she was watching made her want to move her face, but she was held by the fascination of the new sight and by two warm hard palms at either side of her face.
  
  Momoe watched incredulously as the massive member climbed to a full erection. It curved backwards in a mighty bow, exposing a smooth underside. The straw wisp constricted it near the tip where an angry red, one-eyed, heart-shaped knob stared back at her haughtily. Instinctively she turned to retreat. A smooth hand held her hip tight and another inserted itself between her buttocks to the hairy grotto where none but her own and Saburo's hand had ever been before. She looked at the bank in panic ... reeds, bushes, trees, and in the far distance, mountains, but no people. The hand was demanding. It found the warmth of her two delicate lips and roughly inserted itself between them. To her surprise she found the sensation almost as pleasant as when Saburo had done the same to her. She was conscious of the male body kneeling behind her and of the warm hairy belly pressing against her own smooth ass. The hand was withdrawn as the monster reared itself between her legs. The straw scratched the delicate inner surface of her thighs. She stilled her fear and prepared herself for the pain of insertion. The broad knob bumped against her lips, then he found the sweet hole and began inserting the long member.
  
  Instead of the expected pain Momoe found that the long shaft brought with it a feeling of relief. Her vagina opened expectantly at the passage of the massive pillar. She sighed in surprise. Inside her, strange wild sensations seemed to lead directly from her warm cavern to her spine. The roughness of the straw ring brought with it a piercing sensation of lust, something she had not felt so intensely with Saburo. She turned her mind from thinking of that faithless traitor and simply allowed her body to enjoy the new sensations.
  
  As the man moved into her, the sensations increased. The boat rocked to and fro with their activities. The sun warmed her back and she could feel the hair on his legs and belly as he plunged his pole into her depths. Her cunt, barely used to the presence of a male member, registered a protesting twinge. But soon the pleasure of a male body on hers and a male member in her female channel erased the feelings of shame and all but the faintest memory of the treacherous Saburo.
  
  Momoe melted in the hard fisherman's arms. She squirmed her ass backwards trying to feel as much of the man as she could. She felt she was a female eel, struggling to twine herself around a delicious male. The fisherman reciprocated. His hard body possessed hers with a certainty she had not felt with Saburo. One of his hands went around her belly, digging into her pussy mound while he stroked his own pumping staff. She lowered a hesitant hand and touched the soft, large hairy bag that was hammering below her. He urged her on with quiet grunts and murmurs and she supported the soft stones with the flat of her hand.
  
  The rhythm of his movements became abrupt, the shaft of his cock barely moving in her cunt. The scratching of the straw raised her blood to a fever pitch. Involuntary cries and gasps escaped her lips. She bent her back far down into the boat, lying on her knees and chest. Both her hands tried to hold the shaft, feeling its silky-slick length, even poking a questioning finger into herself to feel it buried in her. The fisherman seized her generous hips forcefully and pulled her roughly back and forth while he raked his stubbly chin across her unprotected back. She arched back at him, willing him to split her apart. Wild spasms began in her untutored cunt and she ground herself as well as she was able into the man behind her. He responded with a final lunge that sent her onto her face in bilge that smelled of fish. Warm liquid spurted, filling her insides, completing her own orgasm as she twitched wildly and rose to a precipice of feeling. He pulled his shaft out and rinsed it, and then Momoe's ass, with handfuls of water. She rose slowly to a seat, too shy to look him in the face. The fisherman grinned.
  
  "Better to be alive, in't?" he asked. His accent was thick, almost incomprehensible. "Like t'do't agin, but gotta work," he said cheerfully, hauling at his nets. Dumbly she tried to be of use, glorying in the living feel of her body, in the play of her muscles, the sun on her skin. Above all she rejoiced in her newly awakened womanhood, in the discovery of the pleasure to be found between her legs.
  
  "Eh Funacho, fine fish you've got!" The other fishermen were heaving their catches ashore on the beach near the tiny hamlet. Momoe was at first embarrassed by her nudity, then found that it was more common then clothes for both men and women, and in any case, for the fisherfolk, the fish were of importance, not her nude body. Most of the men wore nothing more than the wisp of straw around their cocks in the fashion of her rescuer.
  
  "Found her in the water," the fisherman said.
  
  Momoe bowed and said, "Thank you for your help."
  
  "Help with the fish," he grunted.
  
  'Help' in this context meant not only unloading them amidst a gaggle of naked brats, flat-dugged old crones and a few plump fishwives, all naked as the day they were born, but cleaning and racking the fish as well. They worked late into the night, gutting the small fish and threading them onto lengths of twig. Their work was lit by simple rush candles, which shed a glow on the bronze bodies. The smoke of the fire around which they huddled and of the smoking candles mingled with the smell of fish grease which eventually deadened the nose.
  
  Momoe was working next to a youngish woman whose blunt fingers were amazingly agile at capturing the fish from their tubs and threading them on the gill-lines. She showed Momoe how to do it. They stopped towards evening for a meal consisting of cooked sweet potato, some of the fish, and a millet gruel, all of which Momoe found almost unpalatable.
  
  The young woman smiled at Momoe. "Shozo fucked you did he?"
  
  Momoe gulped a mouthful of scalding sweet potato in surprise. "Such smooth skin you've got. I shouldn't wonder," the woman continued.
  
  The woman's country accent was almost incomprehensible to Momoe. But her tone was kindly and she obviously meant nothing offensive. Momoe nodded dumbly, a blush flooding her cheeks.
  
  "Good lay, i'nt e?" asked the woman. "I like it when he gives me a bit. Every night too, most times."
  
  "Are you a friend of his?" Momoe asked, still trying to digest the information.
  
  "I's wive. 'Cho's m'name," the other woman chuckled. "Good fisherman. ~The best." That was obviously uppermost in her estimation. "Goin ta stay awhile?"
  
  Momoe looked at her dumbly, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Tears started running silently down her cheeks.
  
  "Don't cry, missy. You kin stay 'ere." The fishwife stroked Momoe's naked thigh. "So smooth y'are, an' so pale. Wish I 'ad skin like yourn." Her hands casually explored Momoe's thighs and back, and she rubbed at the knotted tired muscles. "Just a little bit more to go, then we kin rest."
  
  A shadow fell over them when they finished the fish. Momoe and the other woman looked up. It was Momoe's rescuer. He motioned to the woman, who got to her feet with alacrity. Momoe watched them walk to a corner of the hut that was sheltered by a thin screen of reeds. Emulating the others, she simply lay back, feet to the fire, and drifted off. From the corner she could hear the rustling of straw and the sighs and liquid sounds of love. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered if what she felt was relief or envy.
  
  She woke, confused for a moment, chased by nightmares. A hand was on her crotch. She stared through the dark and could barely make out 'Cho's thick form.
  
  "I tried to get 'im to 'ave you too, but 'e's too tired. I'll do you then."
  
  Momoe wanted to protest, but the warmth of the other woman's body against her cool skin was too good to refuse. 'Cho rolled Momoe flat on her back. She whispered fish-scented endearments as her lips stroked Momoe's tired skin. Then suddenly she was lying between Momoe's legs and their lips were pressed together. Momoe started to resist, then realized that the young woman was far more experienced than she, and that her touch was infinitely pleasing. She returned the kiss, mingling their saliva and exploring the fishwife's mouth. She touched the stocky muscular body that lay over hers, shyly at first, then with increasing boldness as 'Cho explored her as well. She touched 'Cho's full breasts first and the woman obliged her by bringing each teat to her mouth. Momoe licked them at first, then growing bold, sucked a fully erect nipple into her mouth. 'Cho encouraged her by sinking her chest down, covering Momoe's face with a warm pillow. Momoe's hands slid further down stroking 'Cho's hips and fondling her ass. The buns were large and muscular and between them, almost at the bottom, Momoe could feel long silky hair, sticky with the man's come.
  
  'Cho was just as busy. She stroked the girl beneath her, marvelling at the smooth white skin, now only lightly tanned from a day's exposure. She felt Momoe's hesitant exploration of her ass and parted her legs widely to allow the new girl access to herself. "Stick it in my bung?!" she whispered.
  
  "What?" Momoe could not understand.
  
  'Cho gently moved a hand under Momoe's ass and raised her hips, then tickled the tight ring of muscle at Momoe's anus. Momoe did not object, except for clenching her muscles involuntarily. Soon however she relaxed, and was actually disappointed when 'Cho moved on, stroking forward now, dipping her fingers in Momoe's cunt. The town girl reciprocated, finding the sperm-gluey hole and inserting a crooked finger inside. 'Cho began panting, then she lay full length on Momoe and started rubbing her full mound against the other girl's. They wriggled together, Momoe finding the delightful friction a wonderful relief. She clutched at 'Cho's anatomy, muttering endearments and quiet cries as she reached a climax. 'Cho did not withdraw then, and Momoe found a delightful difference in making love to a woman: 'Cho continued the movements of her body without losing any of her enthusiasm. They came together several more times before the two girls fell asleep in one another's arms.