Journal of a marooned sailor 2

I was lying down on my fronds, my mosquitoes was playing well and the body was a good host- entertaining and not complaining. There she arrived, the body carved naturally- a first class student of God might have been the sculptor. To my story, she came towards the lying man; I. Her cloth all revealing, a blouse that shows her complete bra, her nipples poking merrily from the busty chest. There I laid, she dropped something and bend to take, I was amazed at the details I could see without paying. This is the island I should be. My manliness was poking from underneath, could I hold it before she comes ? By heaven! Save me, should this seeds come before her, I will be in eternal damnation. And I did.
I woke with a start, a wet dream at this stage? The gods must be having a good time. Two days in the island and the body is living in a fantasy of a female.
If I ever made it out of here, the world would have turn to Adam and Eve era, the present world is a city of nudity where ladies roam the street revealing  close assets in an open market. Mum said, "your body is the Lord's temple". Whatever she meant, no good man could be with these. Well, people like me could always enjoy a wet sleep.
Hunger sets in