<div class="floatright">(http://static.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/739728-bigthumbnail.jpg)<strong><br/>   Ophelia Rockefeller<br/>    On the beach<br/>   Wrapped in a blanket<br/>   Covered with sperm from hair to toes,<br/>   stinking and exhausted.<br/></strong><hr/></div>Ophelia had recovered a bit. As the island was signaled, she sat up and looked at it as eagerly as the others. Some of her self-confidence was coming back at the prospect of being soon back to civilisation. However, as they approached and could see no sign of inhabitancy, she began to wonder how long they would remain here. The essential was that they had escaped that dreadful submarine.<br/><br/>Upon reaching the beach, she stepped out of the boat and stretched her limbs, while taking care to keep the blanket from falling off her body.<br/><br/><strong>"That's OK, I can wash myself alone, but I need one of you girl to hold the blanket in front of me. I don't want to give any more sight of my nakedness to those... gentlemen."</strong>There was an ambiguous emphasis on the last word.