Something on this island is very different. I haven’t felt the same since a bit after we arrived. I was always an example of ethics and conduct, and now here I am driving around sitting next to the woman I was meant to observe. I’d done plenty of observing, and plenty more, having just a few hours ago made love with Ali in a tropical paradise and now all I want is to do more of the same thing. Something on this island has changed me. It’s like the culture has been injected with sex, everything inviting naughty thoughts and actions. It’s rare to go long without seeing two people fucking their brains out; the men are avid lovers of the women’s’ pregnancy and the women themselves (most swollen enormously with pregnancy, bigger than a single term) happy to pleasure one another. But why? The hormones? I suppose it’s part of the reason, but even a multiple pregnancy doesn’t drive women into this kind of sexual overdrive. Maybe all of them together explains it. To test my hypothesis I asked Ali to drive me to the most crowded area around. Deep down I knew this wasn’t to sate my scientific curiosity, but my lust.
Ali knew exactly the place to go, setting her sights on the beach. There were white sand beaches with mild, bright blue waves crashing onto the shore and the hot sun beating down on the barely-clothed beauties. Big bellies were waddling about in revealing bikinis, showing as much skin as they could thrust into the daylight. The only one pieces I saw were the girls who had decided against bikini tops, their dark nipples pointing out like erasers on pencils. I was amazed at how collectively brazen these women were. At home no woman this gravid would consider herself sexy enough to parade around, so obviously fertile and fecund. But no woman on this island considered herself anything less than a goddess. Why should they, I suppose. They are treated like fertility goddesses, giving birth to the next generation in the lap of luxury.
Ali, sad she hadn’t brought a swimsuit with her, led me into the crowd, which was an experience by itself. Every belly I saw was round and smooth, ranging from modest to eye-poppingly enormous. I marveled at how many babies some woman must be carrying, and how close to (or even past) term some were. The packed pregnant beach apparently gave these women great joy, bellies bulging rudely from their figures up and down the beach as they tanned and relaxed and swam and frolicked with one another. I suspect under some of the shadier umbrellas and changing tents the frolicking and companionship had been taken to its inevitable conclusion. My head was swiveling so fast I tripped over my own feet when Ali stopped suddenly without warning.
Spitting out the grains of sand from my mouth, I shaded my eyes and looked up. There was no need; the sun was thoroughly blocked out by two moons rubbing against each other. I stood up and saw Ali hugging a nude pregnant woman, her belly swollen huge and round in front of her. They parted and began rubbing each other’s globes, talking about their pregnancies.
“That’s my girl Ali, always getting so big so quickly. Damn girl, you’re so pretty. And who is this? And why do you always have some new hunk on your arm?”
“This is one of the new scientists, here to study us.” They shared a look and a giggle at this point and it became more obvious that I could hardly expect a girl as obsessed with sex as Ali seemed to be to keep what we had done a secret.