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Island Fever 4: Paradise
Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com

M/F, F/F and a whole lot more
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Chapter 05: "Tremors"
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               -*-  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

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