[[[-IF4-P5.TXT-]]] ---------------- Island Fever 4: Paradise Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com M/F, F/F and a whole lot more ---------------- Chapter 05: "Tremors" ------------------------------------------- -*- Friday, May 29, 2015 -*- -*- Somewhere magical, off the coast of Peru -*- Following a 3,800 mile flight from Toronto, Ontario to Lima, Peru via our private jetliner just yesterday, the ladies and I (and the two infant babies) were then escorted 130 miles due west of the coast by helicopter to the wondrously beautiful and exotic island that I once called home for 16 years. This was our first time being back on the island - where many (but not all) of our relationships were built and fostered - since December 2013. None of us could believe that we had been away for quite that long of a time. For Scarlett, of course, this was her first time ever seeing the island. But for everyone else, being here once again brought back a lot of cherished memories. Everything here had been kept nice and tidy in our absence thanks to Harold and Juanita, an elderly couple from Peru who were good friends of mine, and who volunteered to be live here and be caretakers of the island and its mansion while we were elsewhere. At the time when I originally anointed the island to them, I honestly had no idea whether or not I would ever see this magical place again. Once our plane touched down in Oslo, I met up with Harold and Juanita in the airport and exchanged pleasantries, then sent them off with our personal flight crew for the family jetliner. All of them - Harold, Juanita and all four members of the flight crew - were being treated to an all-expenses paid vacation (courtesy of me, of course) to Hawaii while my family and I enjoyed our time on our private island. The only real concern our group had, in regards to the long trip, was how Kaden and Piper would handle things. Would they make it through the flight happy and in good spirits as they had the jaunt from Oslo to Toronto? Keep in mind, their was our second (nearly) 4,000 mile aircraft voyage in just a five day period. I felt overly worried for some reason, and made plans in case Kaden and/or Piper seemed to be experiencing any sort of discomfort at any point during the trip. I was really concerned for their ears and the extended air pressure at such a high altitude. As luck would have it - just like the flight from Oslo to Toronto - Kaden and Piper slept for a good part of the day. Still, we made stops in Chicago and then Dallas, and then finally took a straight-shot to Lima. I wanted to take _baby steps_ (no pun intended) with the quick stops in case there was any issues. But Kaden and Piper were a pair of cool, calm and collected little soldiers. At various points throughout the day when they actually were awake, both of them seemed very attentive and happy, and did not show any discomfort or irritability at all. However, the 10-month-old and 6-month-old duo clearly did not enjoy the helicopter ride from Lima to the island itself whatsoever. The noise and the sheer ferocity of the spinning blades from overhead was too much for them. Thus, I made the decision that when we returned to Lima on Saturday June 6, 2015, we would do so via my big luxury boat instead of the helicopter. Hopefully, the babies would enjoy that. I saw no reason why they would not. Both of them loved to go out on the boat back home in Norway. * * * Flying such a long distance always seemed to take a lot out of me. My senses were drained and I was extremely tired, but I found myself slowly drifting out of a very relaxing and peaceful sleep the day after our arrival a lot earlier than I should have. The time was 2:30am, yet our bodies were still accustomed to Norway time (where it was 8:30am now). After such a long trip, though, I should have slept much longer. I definitely should not have been awake at such an early hour. But once becoming somewhat aware and alert of my immediate surroundings - and the fact we were back on the island - I could not help but to smile. How could I not smile? Was there anything _not_ to smile about for me? I was lounging comfortably in the middle of a massive bed with seven women - all in various stages of undress - curled up all around me. Kristanna and Devon were off to the side like usual as they continued to peacefully sleep, locked in a forever embrace with their lips just inches apart. Lindsay was to my left and Trish was behind her, her arms curled around in front and fastened together at her midriff. Scarlett was closeby to Amy, naturally, and Lindsay had a loving arm coiled around Amy as well. Tucked away all nice and snug within my own arms, Pamela rested quietly as the two of us huddled together upon the big bed in the master bedroom with all of the other ladies around us. I luxuriated in the warm feel of Pamela's wondrous, naked body, letting it comfort and soothe both my skin and my senses. I then brought a hand to Pamela's head, and gently ran my fingers throughout her silky-smooth blonde hair. Just having Pamela so close to me was something incredibly special. She truly needed to be worshiped. In my mind, I began to harken back to nearly two years ago when I first met Pamela on this very island. I still remember coming across Pamela in the library her second day here as if it happened yesterday. Pamela and I had a very nice, long discussion in the library, which culminated in a sizzling sexual encounter that still ranks as perhaps my all-time personal favorite. I was so much in love with her from that moment forward. We had perfect chemistry together. "I cannot believe that you were once a stripper," I whispered to Pamela as she lay within my arms here in bed, still dancing and frolicking in the land of dreams at this early morning hour. I offered her a gentle kiss upon the forehead and murmured, "My God, woman... you are much too beautiful - and too classy - to have ever been a stripper." Pamela was a down-to-earth girl whose busty charms and personable good nature had endeared her to everyone who had ever met her. Pamela was a truly gorgeous young woman, with an awe-inspiring figure and a very happy, smiling face that brightened up any room she was in. Her eyes were somewhat dark and inquisitive, but they also had a mischievous glint to them. They were a good representation of her personality. "Why were you a stripper for so long?" I asked out loud. I shook my head and added in a whisper, "My only regret is that I did not rescue you from that horrible life and career long before I actually did." I squeezed Pamela bit tighter to me - wanting to cherish (and protect) her, and ended, "Nothing that happened back then matters anymore." Indeed, it did not. Pamela would never see the stage of a strip club again. She would never have to wrap and coil her body in imaginative ways around a brass pole again. Best of all, Pamela no longer had to degrade herself in front of total and complete strangers in order to make a living. Those days were long gone, and would forever stay that way. Of course, Pamela was an entirely different person today than she was when I first met her nearly two years ago (almost to the day). Pamela was no longer a stripper and now, believe it or not, no one could possibly even guess that was once her profession (for 12 years, no less). She had distanced herself so much from her _prior life_ that sometimes I even forgot that she was once a high-paid exotic dancer myself. But her transformation went much deeper than that. When Pamela first arrived on the island, she was reserved and _very_ guarded - almost to the point of being shy. It was as if Pamela had a big shield around her, and was afraid to let others in. She was even somewhat of a recluse back then, often choosing to go to the library and read a book instead of getting involved in group activities with the others. Being a stripper for so long certainly dulled and jaded Pamela's senses - and her ability to trust others - beyond all belief. She was quite stubborn and narrow-minded when we first met, needless to say, refusing to embrace (or even try) the idea of a group relationship and marriage. No... Pamela was intent on having me to herself. It led to some definite conflicts between her and Kristanna, as well as Devon, in those early days. Kristanna and I wanted Pamela to open both her mind and heart to us; we wanted to take care of her, and make her happy. We wanted to love and provide for her. But that was not going to happen unless Kristanna and I (as well as the others) broke through that seemingly impervious barrier Pamela had up at all times. After not only leaving the island in an angry daze, but seemingly any chance of a relationship with us at the same time in July 2013, fast-forward a few months to the date of December 4, 2013. Pamela was rushed to the hospital in Maryland after collapsing on-stage at the strip club during a performance with what turned out to be an eye-opening and very serious medical (heart) scare. Kristanna and I, both of us vacationing here on the island with the others at the time, rushed to Maryland overnight to be with Pamela, and lend our support. Although she turned out to be perfectly fine in the long run, both physically and in terms of her heart, being confined to a hospital bed and having her life flash before her eyes gave Pamela an epiphany of sorts. She was not happy; she needed a change in her life. It took some doing on our part, but Kristanna and I were able to convince Pamela to come back to the island with us. After much more prodding and convincing, we eventually got that commitment from Pamela that had eluded us for so long. She finally realized that her greatest chance at happiness was with us, and as a part of our family. A year-and-a-half later and now the proud mother of our 6-month-old daughter, Piper, Pamela was indeed a very different woman than the one I originally met in June 2013. She always seemed to have a smile and happy disposition. No longer guarded and afraid to let her emotions show, Pamela was even very playful and amiable. She and Kristanna - once at odds over my affections - got along wonderfully. She was very open and honest with not only me, but the others too; Pamela did not enjoy hiding secrets about herself from us. In essence, Pamela was very much at ease with herself. She had finally found happiness (being with us) but, even more than that I believe, she had found a purpose in life (Piper). Pamela had opened both her body and mind to us, as well as her soul. She will tell anyone who asks her that it was the best decision she had ever made. Even as I had a total seven women strewn about the bed with me at this early morning hour, I concentrated solely on Pamela. I thought about how much she meant to me, and how special of a lady she truly was. I placed my mouth upon Pamela's neck and trailed a series of angel kisses all along its side. "Beautiful," I murmured, my lips cherishing the delicate skin. "So very beautiful." "What are you doing?" Pamela's tired, groggy voice seemed to startle me for a moment. Did I wake her up? I certainly did not mean to. I withdrew my lips from her neck and smiled down at her in the darkness. "Sorry, honey. Just indulging myself." "What time is it?" she asked, rustling about in the bed. "Two-thirty in the morning," I told her. "Why don't you try and get some more sleep?" Pamela brought a hand to her enchanting face and covered it for an instant, then sighed. "I didn't mean to wake you up, sweetheart. I'm sorry." "No, it's okay," Pamela assured me. "It's fine." She sat up and stretched both arms high above her head, then took a very deep breath. "I'm going to check on the kids in the next room to be certain that they are okay." Very slowly, Pamela began to maneuver herself off of the bed. It was as if she was tiptoeing through a minefield; Pamela did not want to wake and/or startle the seven other sleeping beauties who were with us. "Why am I naked?" Pamela suddenly asked me, trying to stifle a giggle. "I didn't go to sleep this way." I offered her an innocent shrug of the shoulders. "Krissy said she prefers you naked. I certainly could not disagree with her. We kind of... helped you out of your nightshirt and panties... after you had fallen asleep last night." "Is THAT so?" Pamela smirked, glancing down at Kristanna. "Hmmmmm, I'm going to have to get her back for that somehow!" She then focused her gaze upon me. "You too, Jeremy! I will find a way to enact revenge on you as well!" Pamela giggled at her own words as she tossed on her simple nightshirt, then exited the bedroom in order to check on the two babies. Still exhausted and very tired, I glanced all around the bedroom and took in the beauty and the splendor of the other ladies even in the darkness. I reached out with my right hand and gently caressed Kristanna's slender hip, while brushing a big clump of long, free-flowing brown hair away from Trish's face with my left. She rustled about for an instant, but did not wake up. I settled upon my side and, with Pamela no longer here for me to cuddle with, I moved in close behind Devon and gingerly placed my arms around her. Now the centerpiece of a Kristanna and Jeremy sandwich, Devon mewed a bit, but continued sleeping regardless. I used her healthy and thick, long blonde tresses as a pillow, and soon drifted off into dreamland myself. Before that, however, I placed my right index finger into Kristanna's sexy mouth and held it there. Soon - even in a deep sleep - Kristanna was involuntarily sucking on my finger as if were an actual erection. She was truly insatiable... * * * After a searing sexual encounter with Kristanna and Devon on Friday morning at the beach (and ensuing trysts with both Pamela and Amy later on that same day), I awoke on Saturday morning with a very sore, aching back. I may be 41 years old and in pretty good shape for a man my age, but it was getting to the point where I felt more like 100 on certain mornings when I woke up. Not only did my back hurt, but in all honesty, my entire body was in pain. The simple reason for that? These seven women had collectively pushed me well beyond the limitations of any normal man. It seemed as though every single time I turned around, one of them wanted a piece of me. Devon, for example, wanted to wrap her arms around me and make love. Pamela was turning into a blowjob machine. Scarlett was becoming much more aggressive with me, which meant her expectations and needs were increasing as well. If she had her way, Kristanna would have sex from now until the end of eternity - and still wind up wanting more. Trish was the most passive and subdued from the group when it came to sex. But catch Trish in the right frame of mind, though, and she was a powder keg of desire waiting to explode. Amy had been quite rambunctious since she became pregnant with Dani Grace. And Lindsay? Well, Lindsay was a nymphomaniac who had no limits or boundaries. At least Lindsay, though? Sweetest. Nymphomaniac. Ever. The fact of the matter was that all of these women were forcing me to go beyond my capabilities in order to please them. Not many days went by where I did not have some sort of sexual encounter. This week had been an exception, of course, with the funeral in Canada and Amy's medical scare before it. More often than not, however, I had two or three sexual encounters per day, and sometimes more. In no way did I have any complaints about my situation - that is not my point here. Instead, I am simply stating that trying to accommodate all of the ladies was putting a definite strain on not only my body, but my senses as well. I am only one man, of course, but they expect me to perform sexually and do my best to satisfy them 24 hours per day. My back was so stiff and sore that I could barely move for 10 or 15 minutes when I woke up this morning. Kristanna and Devon, then Pamela and Amy really did a number on me yesterday. I had to lay in bed and literally gather the strength from the far depths of my body just to sit up. Then, it was a real struggle just to reach the washroom - where I was usually able to alleviate the discomfort with a nice, hot bath. Not today, though. Today happened to one of those days where I felt really bad, and really sore. They occur every now and then. I figured that I must have pulled a muscle in my back as I bent over backwards (literally) aiming to please one (or more) of the ladies yesterday. Of course, I realized that I felt this way just after a mere two years of having the ladies in my life. I cringed at the thought of what shape I would be in 10 or 20 years from now. Would I still be in one piece? Would I still be able to take care of and satisfy seven women all at once? What if that number was higher by then? You never know... As I entered my twilight years (hopefully) even later in life, would I ever reach the breaking point? A point of no return? Could I maintain this pace of keeping up with and attempting to satisfy seven women for the next 25 years? What about 30 years? 35? Again, I had no complaints. Despite the sharp pain in my back, I considered myself to be the luckiest man in the whole, wide world. I had seven of the most beautiful women alive, literally chomping at the bit for an opportunity to have sex with me on a daily basis. The physical and mental strain was overwhelming and tremendous, indeed, but I had no complaints. How could I? I would be a fool to have any objections. On the other hand, the ladies knew that I was just one man, and there was only so much I could do for them. They knew I had limits, and would often back off when I was overly tired and in pain (like now). None of them would intentionally ever risk my long-term health and stability. A gentle knock upon the entrance to the master bedroom elicited a long, drawn-out moan from within my throat on this warm, overcast morning. Having already cleaned up, I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner - it was 10:42am, then let out another moan. Which of the ladies was at the door right now? I thought they were all going down to the beach, which would allow me the opportunity to relax in bed and maybe catch some extra sleep until they returned to the mansion much later this afternoon. That was the plan. Another knock came to the door, and then it slowly opened. A smile appeared on my face after I saw the person who had paid me this visit; it was Scarlett. The Norwegian valkyrie looked absolutely scrumptious in the striking combination of an orange, sleeveless top and a pair of little green shorts, with her shoulder-length red hair (she just switched from being a blonde yesterday (and had Kristanna trim a few inches off in back)) looking all fluffy and stylish. "Hey there," Scarlett grinned, hands together at her waist, as she stepped into the room. "Why aren't you with the others?" I flat-out asked her. "Krissy and Pamela wanted me to check on you," Scarlett offered, which was confusing to me. What did she mean? I quickly got the idea, though, when Scarlett reached into the little bag she had with her, and pulled out a stethoscope. "Is your back feeling any better?" the 30-year-old inquired, hooking the medical instrument around her neck and shoulders, then popping each earpiece into place. "It still hurts, but yeah," I answered. My own personal angel of mercy, Scarlett - a registered nurse back home in Norway - placed the steely cold medical instrument upon my heart and listened to its internal sounds for several seconds. Scarlett appeared very professional and nurse-like, her expression neutral, as she then moved the device to either side of my neck, the center of my chest, and finally my lower abdomen. "All seems well, but I want to check your blood pressure just to be sure," Scarlett said, reaching into the bag again. She wrapped a velcro strap around my left bicep, then pumped and squeezed the tube that went with it to get a reading. "130 over 80," she surmised. "It's a tad high, but nothing to worry about or be concerned with." "I have a pulled muscle in my back," were my words for her. "You're examining me as if I just came rushing into the emergency room, and I'm a patient in dire need of help." "You know how overly protective Krissy is of you, Jeremy," Scarlett reminded me. "We all know that Lindsay is your little baby. She is your little sweetheart. Well, YOU are Krissy's little baby." My eyes went wide in response to that proclamation - mostly because it was true - as the young woman added, "Krissy wants to know that you're okay. So does Pamela. And everyone else for that matter, too." I smiled at her. "Tell Krissy to stop worrying about me. She needs to have fun at the beach with you and the others. It is good that all seven of you can go out and explore what the island has to offer. How are the kids doing?" "Kaden and Piper LOVE the beach and playing on the edge of the waves in the sand," Scarlett responded. "Do not worry, everyone is keeping a VERY close watch on both of them." Scarlett snaked a hand between the mattress and my poor, aching back. She massaged the trouble area - my lower spine - and mused, "Remember, I do NOT want you to use a heating pad, Jeremy. You should not use any heat for the first 48 hours after the initial injury. That is very important." Scarlett went even _more_ caregiver on me, saying, "Any problems with bowel movements? Any pain in your hips, or down your legs?" "No," I replied sheepishly. "If the pain spreads at all," she explained, "it could potentially lead to something more serious." Scarlett pulled her hand out from underneath me and mused, "But let's just hope that it's a simple, little pulled muscle like you say." "I'll be fine," I assured her. "The sky is not falling. I've been through this many times before." "How do you think you hurt yourself originally?" "Oh... I don't know," I replied, my tone more than a bit sarcastic. "Maybe it was when Kristanna was bouncing up and down on me yesterday morning? Or maybe Devon? Or maybe it was both of them were bouncing and hopping on me together?" "There is no need to be snippy, Jeremy." "Yes," I frowned. "I apologize, sweetheart." Her voice turned stern on me. "Do not forget that you were diagnosed with degenerative arthritis in your lower spine earlier this year. Trust me, I have not forgotten, Jeremy." Her eyes were bold and striking, her nostrils flaring. "Whether you believe it or not, every single one of us is concerned for you, and your long-term wellness. Your back is something we need to monitor from this point forward." "Yes, Scarlett," I frowned, having been _put in my place_. You know that feeling you get when your doctor gives you a hard, strict lecture? The sense that your doctor just kicked your ass, but for your own good? That was how I felt now. Slowly but surely, Scarlett was assuming her role as the _family doctor_. She was going to look after, and take care of, all of us for the absolute rest of her life. She was relishing the role, actually. Suddenly, a very playful and mischievous smile came to Scarlett's face. "Krissy also wanted me to give you some therapy to help you feel better!" she chirped, full of glee. "Krissy needs to stop acting all _mother hen_ on me," I told Scarlett. "Really, I am fine." "Oh! Therapy could be good for you! What do you say?" Exasperated, I rolled my eyes. "Oh, okay. What do you have in mind, Scarlett? A back massage? Maybe stretching my legs out like Trish does for me during yoga exercise?" I was thrown for a loop - shocked - when Scarlett reached into my sweat pants and grasped my sleepy, flaccid cock with her right hand and offered it a healthy squeeze. "This type of therapy!" she exclaimed, her little hand now pumping away. "Scarlett, I can't," I protested at her. "You can't. We can't. I... I can't have sex with you and risk further injury to my back." Did Scarlett not know that? She was a nurse, right? "Sweetheart, please..." The 30-year-old goddess fished my shaft out of my sweat pants and wobbled it about in the open air, her right hand fiercely gripping its base. "Shhhhh," she softly whispered, trying to hush me. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." "Scarlett!..." "Just lay back, Jeremy, and relax," she swooned. "Don't move. I'm going to make you feel better." With that, Scarlett nudged one knee upon the bed and hunched completely over, clamping her lips around my shaft and continuing to jerk it off with her right hand. "Trust me, I'm not going to hurt you," she reiterated in a soft, gentle tone, taking my shaft out of her mouth for a brief moment and licking it as if it were a tasty lollipop. "Just lay still, Jeremy, and don't move. Relax..." I was still worried and nervous that this may lead to something bad, but those feelings were quickly being pushed to the wayside as I watched Scarlett's pretty red head start to bob up-and-down over my growing erection. She kept a tight seal with her lips and seemed to loosen her throat, allowing the tip to enter and try and force its way down. Apprehensive, but deciding to give up on my worries for the time being, I tossed both hands into the air and growled like a madman. Scarlett made eye contact with me as she showcased her well-honed cocksucking skills, her vacuum-cleaner mouth and dancing fingers quickly working my shaft into a stiffened frenzy. Indeed, she was being very gentle, and careful. "Oh my..." I moaned in total, sheer arousal, as Scarlett straddled my right thigh and sat up momentarily, only to unzip her orange halter top completely. My eyes took in the wondrous sight of her breasts encased in a lacey white bra, as both halves of the top were now loosely at her sides. Scarlett quickly leaned over and put her tongue out, swiping away at my cock from its base to the very tip. She circled it a couple of times with her tongue, then opened her mouth and again sealed her lips around my shaft. Of course, with Scarlett hunched over my erection and her top unzipped, I had a mouth-watering view of her lush, ample cleavage as it precariously hung down before my adoring eyes. "Are you feeling any better, Jeremy?" "God yes, Scarlett! God, yes!" Scarlett expertly sucked the tip of my cock as she teased its underside with her lips and tongue. Again, she used her right hand to stroke the base of my shaft at the same time, being extra slow and meticulous, her breasts now rubbing and literally humping my left thigh. I groaned yet again, unable to stop the initial squirt as my cock tossed its gooey semen across Scarlett's tongue and into her hungry mouth, where she guzzled it down her throat as if it was a hearty helping of milk. Scarlett continued to pump and stroke me off as I shot load after heavy load of sperm into her sweet, sucking mouth, eagerly swallowing it as fast as it came. When the proverbial well had finally run dry after five or six eruptions, Scarlett pressed her thumb upon the underside of my cock and squeezed the last of my juices as she sucked hard. Then she released my cock and smacked her lips in triumph, obviously happy that not even a tiny drop of my seed had spilled free. "Hmmmmm," she moaned in her own arousal, moving up and then settling down beside me upon the bed. Scarlett nuzzled the side of her face upon my shoulder and placed her hand across my chest. "See? I told you, Jeremy. I did not hurt you. I put no strain or extra pressure on your back at all." "Yes," I told her in total, undeniable agreement, short of breath. "I need much more therapy from you in the future..." With her opposite hand, Scarlett continued to gently stroke and frig my drained erection. "You know, Jeremy, before I met you, I absolutely refused to suck cock. I hated the idea." "Oh?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. "Why is that?" "I'm big into personal cleanliness and hygiene, you know, and going down on a man seems to be about the furthest thing from that." When I looked over at her and offered a puzzled expression, Scarlett giggled. "What? You should know that not every woman in the world enjoys sucking cock, Jeremy. In fact, there are many who don't. I used to be one of them. I never did it - completely, at least - until I met you." "Why am I the lucky one?" was my next question. Scarlett giggled again. "Well, for starters, when I first had sex with you, it was in the middle of that seven girl and one guy orgy you all orchestrated for me last year after Kaden was born. All of the other girls were taking turns going down on you - sucking your cock - so I felt compelled to as well. We even had a line going..." "If you were against the idea, sweetheart, you should have spoke up," I advised her. "It's okay now," she shrugged. "You do a good job of keeping yourself clean down there, Jeremy, unlike some prior boyfriends I have had. It does not seem gross and disgusting with you at all. Plus, I know how much you enjoy it." "What do you mean by... clean?" "No odor," she clarified. "And thank God, no pubic hair. Who wants to get their nose entangled in a mess of pubic hair? I like it that Krissy insists on keeping your balls shaved, Jeremy - believe it or not. I doubt I could go down on you if they weren't. In fact, I know I couldn't." "I'm not naive enough to believe that every woman in the world enjoys sucking cock," I casually mentioned to Scarlett. "My financial guru from Utah knows all about us - he knows I have six wives, a fiancee in you. His name is Mark; he is jealous. He says his wife hasn't gone down on him since 1985." Scarlett held back a laugh. "I was a year old back then." "But you enjoy it now? Fellatio?" The red-head looked at me for a brief moment, then smiled brightly. "With you, I do. But only you." Scarlett placed the side of her beautiful face upon my chest and gently mewed, "No other man alive but you..." * * * Steps. Steps. I _hate_ steps! (But only when my back is sore) The following day, I was feeling much better physically, but made the ill-advised decision to walk down to the storage garage for some beach-themed decorations that I wanted to hang throughout the mansion. Walking to the garage was not the problem; it was having to ascend the steps - the slabs of volcanic rock - that led back up to the house from the garage after I gathered the decorations and placed them in a bag. I was only halfway up once I felt my back stiffen and nearly lock up. I had to latch onto the guard-rail and hold on tight to make it the rest of the way to the top. I found that I was only able to fully lift my right foot in order to ascend each step - my left sort of just dragged along. Oh, what I would not give to be Lindsay's age just one more time... Once I had conquered climbing the steps, I took a moment or two to just stand there and relax. At the same time, I knew that I could not let any - and I do mean _any_ - of the ladies come across me in such a debilitating state of both mind and body. Why? Kristanna would throw a fit. Kristanna would most assuredly insist that I be rushed to the hospital in Lima via our friend's helicopter (or even emergency air-vac) and get every X-ray and imaging scan and test known to man performed on me. I did not want that. We had seen enough of the hospital in recent times as it was! I had a simple, little pulled muscle, but I was feeling much better today than I was yesterday. My only mistake was thinking that I could make it up 100 steps without incident. I slowly meandered toward the side entrance of the mansion, believing that I could sneak in undetected there. However, I was wrong. Seated on the porch swing near the big sliding glass door was Devon. She was all by her lonesome and apparently munching on a small dish of ice cream. I knew that I had to toughen up, so to speak, and not show any outward signs or hints to Devon that I had further tweaked my back. I would get screeched at until I agreed to seek medical help... "Care for some company?" I asked with a friendly smile, approaching Devon with a normal gait and walk (and having to expend all of my mental willpower to do so). "Oh, hi Jeremy!" Devon greeted, her lovely, pristine face suddenly beaming with absolute delight at my presence. She patted the spot next to her on the swing and motioned for me to take a seat there. "Please, by all means!" Devon looked a lot younger than her actual age of 29, yet she was mature and definitely all _woman_. Devon had bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair that went down to the mid-point of her back. She also had a tiny, little overbite that made her smile seem all the more the sweeter, and a very sexy, petite figure wrapped up in a _cupcake pink_ beach dress with a short hemline, tie waist and even an attached hoodie. Her legs were tanned and sleek, and looked magnificent... "What'chya got there?" I wondered, settling down beside her (and pain shooting straight up my spine). I was able to hold face, though, and not let her know that I was hurting. "A chocolate ice cream sundae with chopped bananas," she murmured, extending a healthy spoonful in my direction. "Try it, Jeremy. It's absolutely delicious." Indeed, it was. I sampled a bite, but then Devon went back to enjoying the treat herself with the same spoon. "What are you doing out here all by yourself? And where is everyone else at?" "Hmmmmm... let's see," Devon gently murmured, acting all inquisitive on me. "Kristanna, Pamela, Lindsay and Amy are all in the recreation room, playing with Kaden and Piper. Trish took Scarlett for a hike up to the big volcano. They left an hour ago." "Trish and Scarlett went to the volcano by themselves?" I asked, suddenly worried. "That's a dangerous hike." "Oh, they will be fine," Devon assured me. "Trish knows her way around this island almost as good as you and Krissy do, Jeremy. Besides, she has her phone with her if anything happens. She is checking in with Krissy every ten minutes." "Okay..." I relented (but still worried). Devon was forever full of sunshine and sweetness. She had been that way since long before I first met her. But now, as she and I sat together upon the swing outside, Devon was exuding even more light and happiness than usual. She took in a deep breath, letting the fresh, tropical air flood her senses. "I am so glad, Jeremy, that we finally got to come back to the island. This vacation has been long over-due. It just is so AWESOME to be back here!" "I agree." Devon reached out with a single arm and actually brought me to her in a nice, quick-hitting embrace. She then put her hand down with the other holding the ice cream cup in her lap. "May I ask you something, Jeremy?" "Sure." "Well a couple of things," she told me, pouting somewhat. "First off, how are you feeling?" There was no getting away from this! But I had to keep trying regardless. "My back is fine, sweetheart. I feel a million times today than I did yesterday." Well, until I had to ascend those nasty steps. But no need to tell her... "No, not that," Devon frowned at me. She looked down and bit her lip as if she was nervous. "You know, this past week or so, everyone has been focusing so much into Trish and Amy. Poor Trish lost her father in automobile accident and had to bury him this week probably 20, 30 years before it was his proper time to go. And then Amy, she got really upset and we had that scare with the baby and all where, for a while, many of us wondered if she was going to lose Dani Grace or not." "It's been a rough week," I breathed. "No, NOT that," Devon again insisted. "I'm not asking how your back feels, Jeremy, because I already know you won't tell me if it actually still hurts. You do not want Krissy or Scarlett to know. I'm asking... how are YOU doing?" "What do you mean?" "A lot of focus this past week was put on Trish and Amy, and for good reason," she mewed. "But what about you, Jeremy? You have had one hell of a week yourself, you know. You went to the funeral for the father of one of your wives. That must not have been easy for you. And did everyone forget that Amy is not the only parent for her baby? You are Dani Grace's parent too, Jeremy - her father - and you went through that whole ordeal just like Amy did." Devon was really pouting now. "Everyone has been showering Trish with sympathy and affection, trying to cheer her up. That's understandable. All of the others want to wait on Amy hand and foot, and not cause her any worry or exertion. I commend that." Devon actually balled a fist up and openly wondered, "But has anyone taken a moment of their time this week to ask how YOU are doing, Jeremy, and see if YOU are okay?" There were ten seconds of silence before I finally told Devon, "You have." Her words were accurate, and I could have gotten upset just as Devon seemed to be doing herself, but it would not have been constructive. Nor was it my style. "Come here," I told Devon next, wrapping both arms around her and embracing her warmly. I applauded her concern for me. "Actually, Scarlett has been a tremendous help this past week. She and I have done a lot of talking, and she has managed to cheer me up. Scarlett has definitely been there for me." Devon frowned. "That's good to know, at least." She glanced downward again, but then made eye contact with me. "I just think... I think... I don't like it, Jeremy, that some of the girls seemingly forgot about you, and your feelings, this week. I... maybe I am imagining all of this, I do not know, but it just does not seem right to me. And one person I am especially disappointed in is Kri..." "Have you EVER seen a prettier pussy IN YOUR LIFE than this?" Kristanna asked, suddenly emerging from the mansion with a playful expression upon her face, her unique question cutting Devon off in mid-sentence. Was Devon actually about to criticize and disparage her sweet, beloved Kristanna before she showed up? Devon was as close to Kristanna, and thought just as highly of her, as Trish did Lindsay. "Don't you think so, Jeremy?" Kristanna went on, clearly oblivious to our prior discussion. "Isn't this a pretty pussy? Do you think we can KEEP it? Can we take this pussy back home to Norway with us? We can NEVER have enough pussy!" I held back a laugh and countered, "You're one-of-a-kind, sweetheart. I can't say that enough. One-of-a-kind..." "Isn't this a pretty pussy, though?" she reiterated, holding a cat to her chest and stroking its back tenderly. The feline, which was purring, had already taken a very strong liking to Kristanna. Probably a stray, Kristanna found the animal needy and hungry just outside the airport in Lima three days ago. "Oh... what a pretty pussy!" "He is kind of cute," Devon grinned, reaching out and stroking the creature's back. "Or is it a she?" "It's a girl pussy... cat," Kristanna answered, trying to be funny. "Do you think we can take her home to the farm, Jeremy, and keep her with us? I just love pussycats. I think she would make good friends with Missi Prissi and Binkie! Maybe even Big Bertha, too!" Devon held back a laugh. "Big Bertha? All that cat does is lay in the maintenance garage about 23 of 24 hours every day, and keeps gaining weight. You get anywhere near her, and she begins hissing and shrieking. Big Bertha does not want or need any friends, be it humans or other cats." "Sure, you can take her home with us," I nodded. "It looks hungry and seems to have become attached to you rather quickly. It must not have had a home back in Lima." "Did you hear that?" Kristanna squealed, holding the feline out in front of her and looking directly into its face. "We are gonna give you a home! What would be a good name for you? I got it... Pussy! We'll call you Pussy!" As Devon brought a hand to her mouth and stifled a laugh, I had to put my foot down in telling Kristanna, "You are NOT going to name that cat Pussy, sweetheart. You can take it back on the plane with us if you want, but it won't be named Pussy. That... it's too... it's too weird. I'm sorry." "Oh Jeremy, you take the fun out of everything!" Kristanna huffed, albeit in a playful way. She turned her attention back to the animal and proclaimed, "Tummysticks! That is a good name for you... Tummysticks! Yeah!" She cradled the feline upon her shoulder and shot Devon a mean-spirited look. "And Big Bertha is NOT fat!" Suddenly giggling, Kristanna nudged her way in between us upon the porch swing and took a seat there. She handed _Tummysticks_ off to Devon, then focused upon me and offered me a deep, pleasurable kiss which lasted for at least a full minute. By the end of it, I was lightheaded and felt a rustling within my shorts which became even more pronounced once Kristanna turned and did the same, exact favor for Devon. Kristanna then placed an arm around either one of us and brought both Devon and I close to her in a loving, three-way embrace. She was happy; full of zest and bravado like usual. "So what are you two talking about out with such a hush-hush, CLANDESTINE meeting out here?" Kristanna was so jovial! "We weren't talking about anything," Devon squeaked. Hmmmmm... <<<- End of Chapter 05 ->>> ==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----== "Island Fever 4: Paradise (c) 2015 JeremyDCP - JeremyDCP@hotmail.com Feedback is always appreciated!