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Island Fever 5: Family
Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com
M/F, F/F and a whole lot more
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PLEASE NOTE: The following story is a sequel to "Island Fever",
"Island Fever 2: Eternity", "Island Fever 3: Matrimony" and
"Island Fever 4: Paradise". In order to fully understand this
story and the unique situation that its cast of characters find
themselves in, it is paramount that you are very familiar with
the previous four stories and their respective plot lines. In
other words, if you are not familiar with this particular
universe, please do not attempt to even bother reading this.
All four prior stories can be found on this website.
Many readers have requested another sequel, so here is a quick
check into the current lives of Jeremy and his six wives (and one
fiancee). I hope you enjoy reading it as much I did writing it.
Chapter 01: "Octadic"
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-*- Wednesday, March 2, 2016 -*-
-*- Sandvika, Norway -*-
"It's hard for me to do anything right now because all I
really want to do is just eat some ice cream."
"There's nothing wrong with that," I told Scarlett,
already having stood up from the small table for two in our
kitchen and then motioning toward the freezer with my head.
"Any particular flavor you prefer at the moment?"
Scarlett exhaled sharply, momentarily blowing the strands
of yellow, sunrise-gold hair upon her forehead skyward. She
seemed to ponder my question for an instant or two. "Didn't
Amy make some _krokan_ the other night? If there's any left,
I'll have that."
Wanting to appease my fiancee, whom I was going to marry
just ten short days from now, I hurried over to the nearby
freezer and found a plastic tub full of tempting, ooey-gooey
_krokan_ inside. Four egg yolks mixed with sugar, milk,
vanilla ice cream, butter, almonds, hazelnuts and _snøfrisk_
(Norwegian spreadable goat cheese), krokan was absolutely
delicious! Due to the fact I had become so very accustomed to
this homemade delight over the past several months, it would
now be impossible for me to ever go back to any store bought
ice cream. Amy, one of my six beloved brides, made a fresh
batch for our family about once every two weeks.
"Thank you, Jeremy," Scarlett smiled, nodding once, when I
returned and offered her a small bowl of the Scandinavian ice
cream. She took a single bite, then groaned in pleasure and
raised her spoon at me in punctuation. "Hmmmmm... krokan."
Grinning myself, I took a seat at the table across from
Scarlett and studied her. A truly radiant, beautiful woman,
Scarlett's hair was down and fell just past her shoulders in
those fruity layers from the shampoo commercials. Her denim
jeans had a singular rip across her front thigh, clearly by
design, and her orange top had similar rips perpendicular from
the shoulder seam. The effect was the briefest, most fleeting
glimpse of luscious skin underneath.
It was complete look that most women, no doubt, could not
pull off, but Scarlett had it down pat. But what made it
even more impressive was the simple fact that Scarlett was
eight months pregnant. She was due to give birth to our son,
Dylan Thomas, on April 6, 2016. With our wedding right around
the corner as well, the next couple of weeks promised to be
quite hectic for both of us. But we were more than prepared.
After all, I was an old pro at this sort of thing by now.
"I trust that the doctor visit went well this morning?"
Scarlett asked, now dabbing at her ice cream dessert with
the spoon. "Lindsay and her baby check out okay?"
"Oh yes, everything was fine," I answered, referring to
the two week post-birth appointment for my youngest bride
and child, Lindsay and Kaylee, respectively. Three days
prior to Kaylee's arrival, Trish - yet another wife of mine -
gave birth to a happy and bouncing baby boy, Jackson. Trish
and Lindsay had been floating on cloud nine ever since. I
seriously wondered if either of them would ever come down.
"What tests did the doctor perform today at Kaylee's
check-up? PKU, T4, galactosemia, thalassemia screening?"
"All of that, and a whole bunch more," I replied. Scarlett
was employed as a labor and delivery nurse at the university
hospital in Oslo, so medical terms such as those were second
nature to her. Still, she always seemed fascinated whenever
the opportunity was there for her to discuss them. Scarlett
loved her job, but was on maternity leave at the moment. Any
medical talk nowadays, and she was suddenly all ears.
"So Mister Jeremy, what is on your agenda for the rest of
the afternoon and the evening?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. This may or may
not seem like a great secret, but I was kind of leaning toward
spending the rest of the day with you."
"Awwwww, that's so sweet," Scarlett swooned, batting her
thick eyelashes for emphasis. "But it is surely no secret.
I pretty much knew that already."
"I never was any good at keeping secrets anyway."
Scarlett winced and it was adorable. "That's okay. I
suck at yoga. You should see my tree pose."
"Really?"
Scarlett held up her hand as if she was ready to swear on
the Holy Bible. "On my honor. I failed miserably at downward
dog; was expelled from the class two years ago when I pointed
out that the instructor just wanted to check out my ass."
I chuckled. "Can you blame him?"
Scarlett took another bite of krokan, yet looked at me
with an amused glint in her eyes. "I knew you'd say that.
Ughhhhh... you are such a man, Jeremy."
There was a stretch of silence between us. But it was the
most comfortable type of silence, which was kind of nice. I
decided to enjoy it, as well as the remainder of my orange
juice drink. I was feeling very relaxed and stress-free. I
sat back in my chair and traced the rim of my glass with a
single fingertip. "So how are you feeling today?"
"I feel perfect," Scarlett chirped, reaching down with
both hands and patting her massive baby bump. "With our
wedding just over a week away, I think, I am on such a high
right now that nothing could bring me down. I am not going
to let any pregnancy aches and pains get to me."
"I wish some of the other girls in our relationship had
that sort of mindset when they were eight months pregnant."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," Scarlett giggled. "Would have made
things much easier on you as the faithful, doting husband."
"I get to be YOUR husband in just ten days," I smirked. I
was counting down the days, the hours, even the minutes,
within my mind. I simply could not wait to marry Scarlett!
"Oh yes," she nodded. "Sometimes I wonder, though. I will
be wife number seven for you, yet you are still married to the
first six. Somehow, that just does not make sense."
"I think it makes our relationship - yours and mine - and
our upcoming wedding all the more dramatic, don't you?"
Scarlett thought on this. "Well, I can't say that I ever
really envisioned a relationship for myself like the one I'm
in now." She bit her lower lip in a manner that, for a
moment, had me absolutely transfixed. "You're just my first
wedding too, Jeremy. I have six more to go through with the
other girls before our family is finally complete. Maybe
more than six, yes? First up will be Kristanna, after the
two babies are born. Then I get to marry Devon after that!"
"You're going to be a busy little gal this year, huh?"
"Life is good," Scarlett mused. "I love my job. I love
our family. I am engaged to the most wonderful man in the
whole, wide world. I live with a group of the sweetest,
most precious women alive, and our house is like a nursery
with five screaming babies - and two more due next month -
because every time you go so far as to even LOOK at one of
us, Jeremy, you get us pregnant. Or so it seems, at least."
Her words made me chuckle as she ended, "Plus, we have krokan
in our freezer, which is a mega bonus."
"You and your crazy Norwegian food."
"Krokan is the BEST," she insisted.
I always found myself truly captivated whenever I had the
opportunity to speak with Scarlett. She had an effervescence
about her which was contagious. I met her gaze from across
the small, circular table and my stomach fluttered a tad. I
nearly melted into her alluring, Eden-green eyes. The sight
of those puffy lips parting into a bigger smile felt like an
electric current was running throughout my heart.
"I like talking to you."
Scarlett nodded. "I know." Then her eyes widened and she
actually bopped herself in the head. It was pretty cute.
"No. God. That came out so wrong. I mean, I enjoy your
company too, Jeremy." She sighed in frustration. "I'm a
total dork sometimes. But you already know that."
"If you say so."
Scarlett snagged a cracker and took her time eating it, as
if it were way too important to rush. The play-out was quite
endearing to watch; each tiny bite seemed like a precious find.
She glanced up and caught me watching her, which prompted her
to break out into a far-reaching grin. "Stop staring at me!"
But would that be possible? Could I actually stop staring
at Scarlett? To me, there was nothing more desirable than a
pregnant woman. Scarlett was gorgeous and exquisite, and her
current form portrayed womanhood at its absolute zenith - the
ability to create a new life within her very own body. It
was a miraculous thing that was nothing short of breathtaking.
The glow and aura that an expectant mother exuded was perhaps
one of God's finest creations.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you're intoxicating," was my honest answer.
Scarlett placed her elbow upon the table and propped her
chin up with her hand. "I just love how much of a softie you
are, Jeremy. You want everyone to think that you are tough,
but you're really nothing more than a complete romantic. A
hopeless romantic, that is. All the way."
"Wait a minute." I was shaking my head repeatedly. "Hold
up, right there! Did you just call me... a softie?"
"Yes," Scarlett nodded resolutely. "Yes, I did."
I looked skyward in jest. "I am NOT a softie."
We laughed in unison, then the room fell silent once again.
I was having such a wonderful time. Soon, I got the sense
that Scarlett was finished with her krokan, the delicious ice
cream treat. This gave me an idea.
"Let's go to the next room and sit down for awhile on the
sofa," was my suggestion. "Have you relax."
Scarlett seemed intrigued. "In your lap, I hope?"
"That can be arranged."
Scarlett was grinning as I led her by the hand into the
adjacent central room. I took a seat on the big sofa, then
helped ease her into a comfortable position all nice and
snug upon my lap. She was pregnant, so I had to be gentle.
Extremely gentle. Of course, I kept a hand upon her stomach.
Scarlett was eyeing an apple on the fruit tray next to the
sofa, so I snatched it and promptly gave it to her. I did not
say a word as I watched her take a bite out of the apple. It
a great visual, and strangely appealing to me.
"Did I tell you the big news?"
Scarlett perked up. "Oh, I love big news. Let's hear it."
I smiled at her. "You and I are getting married in just
ten short days!"
"NO WAY!" Scarlett exclaimed, feigning astonishment.
"That is wonderful, earth-shattering news! It's more than
wonderful! It's... come here." Again, we laughed together
as Scarlett wrapped her arms around me for a loving embrace.
"Oh, Jeremy... you're the best!"
I pulled back far enough so I could gaze back at her face.
"Thank you for coming into my life - our lives - the way you
did back in the summer of 2014."
Scarlett's eyes dropped to my mouth. She moved in slowly,
gently, just a mere whisper away from my own lips. "You know
something, Jeremy? The day I met you and Kristanna, and Devon,
at the hospital when Kaden was born? I was not even supposed
to work that day. They called me in at the last moment."
"I'm glad they did."
Scarlett frowned momentarily. "I almost did not answer my
telephone when I saw it was the hospital. I was so not
looking forward to going into work that day." She pouted yet
again. "I guess we came that close to never meeting, huh?"
I claimed Scarlett's mouth in a luscious, probing kiss. It
was soft and sensuous at first, but ever deepening. I ran my
hands from her shoulders to her arms, and intertwined our
fingers. Eventually we broke apart, and I was amazed at the
snap, crackle and pop of the aura surrounding us. It was
electric, scintillating; it nearly took my breath away.
"Everything happens for a reason," I told her.
Scarlett snagged another bite of the apple; I marveled at
way she delicately licked its juice from her fingertips.
"You give really good apple."
Scarlett broke out into a bright, massive smile; the same
type of smile that only made me want to kiss her some more.
Only because I felt compelled to, I reached out and swept the
stray hair away from Scarlett's forehead. Then I sighed,
drowning myself in those lambent, jade-green eyes of hers.
Scarlett poked me in the side, breaking the trance.
"Hey!" I complained, albeit playfully. "I'm not going to
marry you if you're going to do things like that to me." I
rubbed my side and chided her, "That hurt!"
"Oh sure, it did!"
"It did!"
Turning serious, Scarlett clenched my hand a bit tighter
and mused, "I have so many great people in my life right now,
but everything begins and ends with you."
"Oh?" I countered. "Why is that?"
"Because of who you are, Jeremy. Your kindness. Your
warmth. It may sound like an old cliche, but you're the
heart and soul of our family. You have made such a huge
impact in all of our lives - mine, Krissy's, Pamela's. Devon,
Trish, Lindsay, Amy. The way you take time with everyone and
make us feel so incredibly special. It goes a long way, and
it definitely gets noticed. Trust me, it does. Every single
time I talk to you, Jeremy, or am simply around you, my day
becomes just a little bit brighter. I, for one, happen to
think that is a pretty amazing thing. And I assure you that
all of the other girls would tell you the same, exact thing."
Hearing what Scarlett thought of me, that the extra effort
I tried to put forth each day mattered, moved something
powerful in me. I took a moment to allow her words to settle.
"Thank you. But I don't quite know what to say after that."
Scarlett tilted her head to the side and bit her bottom
lip in a move that I found wildly mesmerizing and attractive.
"Don't say anything. Just know that it's true." My eyes
wide, Scarlett soon broke out into a grin and added, "Now go
into the kitchen and bring my krokan back to me."
"I thought you were finished with it?"
"One is never truly finished with their krokan until it is
completely gone," the 31-year-old told me in a philosophical
tone. "Now, bring me the rest of my dessert please." She
giggled and added, "I'm pregnant, and I'm hungry."
A moment later, I made my way back from the kitchen and
watched in amusement as Scarlett took five healthy bites of
krokan from the bowl. My fiancee was temporarily transfixed.
To her, it was most definitely heaven on a spoon.
"Sorry," she then told me, acting coy. "We were bonding."
"You and the krokan? Bonding?"
"Right. Krokan bonding. It's a thing."
I grinned at her. "You really love that stuff."
"I would lay down my life for krokan."
"Wow. What an endorsement. If Amy ever decides to mass
produce and go into business, we will have to put that quote
on the carton. I would lay down my life for krokan."
"With my picture please."
"Well, we definitely don't want my picture on the carton,"
I playfully told her. "Wouldn't sell a single one."
"Shut up!" Scarlett giggled.
"Hey guys!" came a squealy yet friendly, all-too-familiar
voice from behind us. I immediately knew who it belonged to.
I turned toward the doorway to see its source. "What is up?"
From the top of her silky blonde hair that fell in tousled
disarray around her head to the tight jeans hugging her trim
waistline, then molding her sexy, feminine curves and sleek,
slender legs, Devon was sexy with a capital S. If you added
the delicate, purely angelic features of her face and the
allure of those amazing blue eyes, this 30-year-old from the
great state of Pennsylvania exuded light, elegance and beauty
all at the same time. Devon was yet another of my wives.
"Hi baby," Scarlett smiled at her in return.
"Hey," was my simple greeting.
Devon took a deep breath and exhaled, then strolled over
to us with a wide, far-ranging smile upon her face. She
promptly leaned over and hugged Scarlett to her, even kissing
her flush on the lips in the process. Devon then patted that
baby bump and wondered, "You feeling okay today, honey?"
"I feel fine," Scarlett insisted with her very own smile.
"Jeremy..." Devon purred, momentarily slipping her arms
around me and pressing the side of her face upon my chest.
When I kissed the very crown of her head, Devon broke away
and sat down on the sofa next to Scarlett, one leg folded
beneath her. She then grasped hands with Scarlett and the
two ladies giggled like young schoolgirls.
"You look great," Devon told Scarlett, absently plucking
at the hem of the orange top she wore. As per our family
routine, always be nice and complimentary (yet much more
importantly, honest) toward the pregnant wife (or fiancee).
Shower her with love, affection and positive reinforcement.
Devon knew this just as well as I did.
Devon looked up at me and made an uncomfortable face, then
rubbed her arms quite theatrically. "Brrrrr! It's cold. Do
you think you could rustle me up a blanket, Jeremy? Please?"
I noticed goosebumps popping out over Devon's skin when,
mere seconds later, I draped the heavy quilt from the nearby
love seat over top of her, up to her neck. With Scarlett
underneath the quilt as well, the pair of ladies were suddenly
more content and comfortable than ever, cuddling together like
two newborn puppies. What a beautiful sight to see...
"Better?" I inquired, already knowing the answer.
"Hmmmmm," Devon simply hummed in response.
My heart nearly melted when I watched Scarlett leisurely
plant the side of her face upon Devon's shoulder. Oh, this
mansion was special. Our family was special. There was so
much love, so much togetherness, so much caring. I was part
of perhaps the most unique family in the whole, wide world.
All of us loved each other, yet there was no jealousy or
hidden animosity anywhere to be found. We did not allow it.
Devon maneuvered her right hand out from underneath the
quilt, then reached over and copped a long, thorough feel of
Scarlett's breasts. The move was so blatant and obvious, I
was certain Devon did it more for my benefit than her own.
Her blue eyes stayed on me during the entire process, a look
that suggested that Devon sought Scarlett and yours truly out
today not necessarily to talk, but to engage in some more...
extracurricular activities. Hey, I was not going to complain.
But just like that, a conversation broke out. Go figure.
"Have you been outside recently today, Devon?" Scarlett
asked. "What's it like? Still frigid?"
"It's not bad," Devon answered. "A little cold, you know,
but nothing too serious. Feels good to me, actually. I heard
the temperature is supposed to drop overnight, though, and we
may actually get a few inches of snow. Strange, huh?" Devon
then glanced my way. "Is Lindsay still tired?"
"She had a bad night with Kaylee, I am told, and Trish had
an equally bad and long night with Jackson," I frowned. "Both
babies were up and screaming for three or four hours. Which,
you know, I am not happy about because neither Trish or
Lindsay woke me up and let me know there were any issues."
"They wanted to let you sleep," Devon offered. "We have
five babies in our family right now, and two more on the way
with Scarlett due next month, as well as Kristanna. The five
we have, their mothers are so busy tending to and taking care
of them. It is a lot of work for them. But I think everyone
knows, Jeremy, that no one has more on their plate than you.
You are the father of five, not the mother of one, like the
others. Soon, it will be seven." Devon nodded her head and
reiterated, "Trish and Lindsay didn't wake you last night
when Jackson and Kaylee were upset because they wanted to let
you have a quiet reprieve and get a peaceful rest."
I took a step forward and pointed toward Devon's abdomen.
"So, when will I finally get you pregnant? You're the only
wife who hasn't given birth yet. We need to change that."
Scarlett chuckled at my words, as did Devon.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of enjoying my role in the
family right now as it is. I'm the nanny! I will watch and
look after any baby, whether it be one, two, three, four or
all five, to give you and the other girls a break. I can
watch Kaden, for example, so you and Kristanna can go out and
have a romantic night together, Jeremy. Or I can watch Piper
so you can spend some alone time with Pamela. I kept an eye
on Jackson and Kaylee just last night so Trish and Lindsay
could take a romantic walk around the farm."
"So your availability as the nanny would go down quite
significantly if you had a child of your own," I surmised.
"Yes."
"But that belly of yours would look so incredibly perfect
blown up like a balloon, with a baby inside."
Devon shot me a look. "You and your pregnancy fetishes!
If it was up to you, Jeremy, every single one of us would be
nine months pregnant for the absolute rest of our lives! Oh
my God, you would be in Heaven, wouldn't you?"
"You know he would!" Scarlett giggled.
"Six months," I corrected them. "That seems to be a good
number. The glow is brightest then, and it seems around that
time is when there are the fewest aches and pains. All of
the others were happiest and most lively around six months."
"Hmmmmm... well it's good you're looking out for our well
being, I suppose." Devon glanced at me for several seconds,
then broke out into a laugh. "You want to get me pregnant,
don't you? Don't you, Jeremy?"
"The thought has crossed my mind once, or a million times."
"What about what I want? I like being the nanny."
"You don't get a vote."
Devon laughed again. "Oh really? I don't get a vote,
huh?" She tilted her head to the side and gave me a playful
stare. "I'll have you know that I won most valuable voter
while still in high school."
"You did not. There is no such thing."
"Yes, there is!"
"Everyone certainly appreciates what a great help you have
been to us," I reminded Devon. "It's just... I know how much
you want to be a mother yourself, sweetheart. You're gonna
turn 31 at the end of the month. Don't feel compelled to hold
off on your own dreams in exchange so Krissy, Pamela, Amy...
whomever, can have a few hour, guilt-free reprieve from
watching their child. Or even me. There will still be plenty
of time for everyone to take a break and catch their breath
with the way our family is set up, and structured."
"It's just easiest for me to do it, though," Devon said.
"I don't have the responsibility of my own child. I don't
mind waiting another year or two before things settle down.
I don't mind waiting three, four, even five years. I just
want to do what works best for our family."
"You are an awesome girl. You know that, right?"
"I have to find a way to live up to awesome."
"That's one thing I really love about Devon," Scarlett
mused, moving her head close to her and then touching cheeks
in a display of affection. "She is all about our family.
Devon always looks to do what is best for our family."
When Devon held out her right hand, Scarlett allowed
herself to be pulled into her lap. Devon placed a simple
kiss beneath Scarlett's left ear and smiled sweetly at her.
Of course, they were still underneath the heavy quilt.
"What?" Devon asked, noticing her stare. "You look like
you're in a world of your own all of a sudden."
Scarlett nodded slowly, gently, knowingly; the smile never
once leaving her face. "Kinda am."
"You want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?
Because whatever it is, it looks awfully fun."
"Just happy," Scarlett simply stated, gazing at Devon,
before focusing on me for a few memorable seconds. Beaming,
she rubbed her baby bump and fiddled with the engagement ring
upon her finger. Scarlett then turned her attention back to
Devon and concluded, "Happier than I have any right to be."
"Awwwww..."
Devon shrugged the quilt away, perhaps so I could see what
was happening, and slipped both arms around Scarlett from the
side. Instinctively, Scarlett brought a single finger up and
traced the outline of Devon's cheek with it. She then laid
claim to Devon's mouth with a deep and passionate kiss. Her
tongue entered her, filled her, and the dual passion shared
amongst them quickly escalated into raw, passionate need.
Devon's oversized t-shirt was twisted and stretched tightly
over her overflowing breasts. Scarlett caressed and kneaded
the delicate flesh, through the fabric itself and the white
bra she wore underneath, with her right hand. Her mouth then
descended lower and she extended her tongue, licking and
swiping away at an exposed portion of Devon's ample cleavage.
Scarlett then attached her mouth to a breast, sucking it
through the thin barrier of the cotton top and bra. Devon
drew breath deep into her lungs, her chest swelling under
the expert, oral care. Scarlett moved her mouth to the
opposite breast and gave it the same treatment.
Scarlett's lips returned to Devon's mouth, hungry, wanting,
full of need. She then slid a hand down her belly, not
pausing until she was cupping the sensitive cleft between
Devon's thighs through the denim jeans that she still had on.
"Open your legs for me, honey," she instructed, her voice raw
and full of sheer desire. "Do it."
Devon's entire body tensed and arched upon the sofa in pure
satisfaction as she raised one leg, allowing Scarlett further
access. The breathing between both ladies became quite ragged
and intense as Devon's arms encircled Scarlett's slender neck
and shoulders, holding her close, kissing her madly.
Mentally, I was already on fire and close to losing it if I
did not get to experience some of this erotic action myself.
I clutched at my own neck and cleared my throat, twirling my
head about, and wiped my brow with a forearm.
"Oh, look at poor Jeremy," Scarlett pouted. It was a damn
sexy pout, not to mention an exaggerated one. "Looks like he
is getting all hot and bothered over there."
"I know what to do to take care of that!" Devon squealed,
dropping down to her knees and positioning herself just in
front of me. She deftly dropped my slacks, then reached into
my boxer shorts and eventually pulled out my half-hard shaft.
Those alluring, constellation-blue eyes of Devon's danced and
flashed with erotic mischief as then she used her right hand
to coax and stroke my cock toward a full, raging erection.
Devon reached behind her with her opposite hand and helped
steady Scarlett as she too, dropped down to the floor on her
knees. Scarlett scooted forward slowly, then sat down next
to Devon with both legs folded beneath her. She clutched at
her stomach, as if the baby had just kicked inside of her,
but then smiled brightly. Yes, the baby made a movement.
Devon moved both hands to my inner thighs and applied a
bit of pressure, indicating that she wanted me to spread
them apart. When I did, she rewarded me with a cool breath
of air that was blown and swished over my aching erection.
My entire body flinched when, from the side, Scarlett
snaked her head forward and offered the underside of my
cock a full, sweeping lick with her tongue.
Devon playfully glared at her counterpart. "Invading on
my territory, eh? Stealing my spotlight?"
Scarlett was all smiles. "We can share it."
"Yes, share it!" I exclaimed. What a wonderful idea!
Devon looked up at me and made a face, then giggled. "Oh,
no one asked you, Jeremy."
Scarlett became the aggressor as she twirled the tip of
her tongue all over the head of my cock, saturating it in
her own saliva. My head snapped back and I growled out in
passion as she then took half of my length into her mouth.
And thus, the sweet, exquisite torture began.
Scarlett's green eyes were locked upon my face as she began
to suck and swallow me at her own leisure. The 31-year-old had
a diva's nose perched atop her blushing, raspberry-red lips,
which formed a confined circle around my pulsating member as
she bobbed her head back-and-forth. I closed my own eyes and
sighed as waves of tingling pleasure washed all around me.
Scarlett suddenly changed her tactic; each time her head
bobbed forward, she took more and more of my hard cock into
her wet delight of a mouth. Once Scarlett had taken me to
where my shaft was lodged against the very back of her mouth,
she paused for a moment, then took a big gulp and worked me
into the unbelievable tightness of her throat. She twisted
her head about frantically while working my shaft even deeper
into her throat. Eventually, Scarlett froze at the base of
my erection, her lips nuzzled upon my pubic hair, allowing me
to savor the feeling of being completely swallowed.
Then, with a tiny grunt, Scarlett began to nudge my cock
outward until it was free of the grasping ring of her
throat and back onto the wriggling heaven of her fiery tongue
as she withdrew its entire length from her mouth. I could
feel her saliva drooling over my cock in long, thick ropes,
which she sucked up with hungry, slurping noises.
Again and again, Scarlett swallowed me whole, then pulled
it all the way out. The pleasure was simply exhilarating!
Watching her nearly gag and choke on it with each downward
stroke simply made it all the more exciting.
Scarlett's quick gasps for air between each intake were
frantic and incredibly thrilling to hear. To allow Scarlett
a bit more breathing time, Devon eventually snaked forward
and planted a series of butterfly kisses upon my testicles,
then fluttered her tongue up and down my length from the
side. But when Scarlett was ready for more, Devon relented.
In one long, easy swoop, Scarlett took me all the way down
her throat again. This time, however, she tried something
new. With my erection completely buried, she began to hum.
"Oh my God!" I growled, my hips jerking forward in a hard,
involuntary motion. Scarlett twisted her head from side to
side, wildly corkscrewing me around in her mouth and throat,
while still humming. It sent my entire body spiraling out
of control. "Scarlett, I'm going to cum!"
"Don't you dare swallow it!" Devon warned her, suddenly
very loud and screechy. "Save some for me!"
My body spasmed and contracted as I now held Scarlett's
blonde head in place, pumping my release into the luscious
confines of her mouth. Lost in an ocean of sheer ecstasy,
my blood boiling, sperm simply gushed out of me. I grunted
and roared like an animal, jamming my cock as far it would
go one final time, before my body began to ease and relax.
I felt lightheaded, and collapsed onto the sofa behind me.
Still, Scarlett had her lips pursed tight over the very
tip of my shaft. She smiled up at me while coaxing every
last ounce of sperm from my cock. There was a heavy dollop
of it on her face, which soon trickled down to her neck.
Devon scooped it up with her tongue and swallowed it easily.
"What happened to sharing?" Devon whined at Scarlett, but
being playful about it. Again, there was no jealousy in our
relationship. "You hogged his big cock all for yourself.
Well, two can play that game. Gimme that mouthful!"
I watched, absolutely spellbound, as the two lovely ladies
entwined their mouths together as one for a kiss. When their
lips parted and their tongues touched, a heavy cascade of my
thick, white cream slid out of Scarlett's mouth and directly
into Devon's. They became totally lost in the kiss, oblivious
to anything else, their hands rising to meet the others'
waist, their large breasts squished together and heaving. In
the process, Devon's throat rippled and she shuddered as the
gooey goodness was easily swallowed down and enjoyed.
Finally, when it was over, the two ladies broke the kiss
and slid their faces around until they were looking up at me,
their arms now snug and tight around each others' back.
Scarlett smiled devilishly as I felt a mixture of love and
lust swell forth within me. She broke into an even bigger
grin and purred, "Jeremy, I want you to fuck Devon for me."
Devon giggled and turned to look at Scarlett. "What if I
want to watch Jeremy fuck you instead?"
"Oh no, you're getting it today," Scarlett retorted, her
tone all deep and serious. She gathered the lower portion of
Devon's t-shirt with both hands, then yanked it upward and
pulled it over her head, and off. Scarlett grinned and batted
her long eyelashes as she took in the wondrous sight of Devon
in her lacey white bra, but then turned to me. "Can we just
have Devon as our lone wedding present next week?"
"That would be nice," I offered, contemplating the idea.
Scarlett's hands were groping away at Devon - specifically,
her breasts. She cupped and squeezed the exquisite mounds
through the bra, but then discarded it. Devon was now topless
as Scarlett swooned, "Oooooh, you feel so good!"
"So do you, baby," Devon returned, one hand caressing her
baby bump and the other her ass. "Oh, so do you."
"We need to get you out of these clothes," Scarlett said
to Devon, unbuttoning her denim jeans and trying to peel them
downward. "I want Jeremy to get his cock inside of you."
A whimper of delight escaped from within my throat as I
watched both ladies move together and share yet another hot,
steaming kiss. Their tongues flashed in and out, their lips
working fast and furiously. Devon gently pulled Scarlett to
the floor with both arms so she was laying flat upon it. She
straddled Scarlett's chest, her knees planted on either side,
never once letting their lips break apart.
Eventually, Devon slid her mouth to Scarlett's neck and
began to nibble and kiss away upon it. Scarlett's green eyes
fixated on me and held steady until the pleasure made her
moan and twirl her head about. In return, Scarlett attached
her lips to Devon's right breast and took its nipple into her
mouth. Devon tossed her head back and stole a glance of me.
"I cannot wait to see Scar-Scar in her wedding gown," was
Devon's comment for me. "Speaking of your upcoming wedding,
you know. Scar-Scar is going to look doubly radiant too,
because she is so very close to giving birth." Devon then
focused upon Scarlett, saying, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Scarlett reciprocated, mashing her lips
to Devon's for a kiss. "And I love you as well, Jeremy." She
smiled sweetly at me. "And yes, I still want you to fuck
Devon for me. Whatever you do, though, don't wear yourself
out, Jeremy. The other girls may get angry at us."
I chuckled. "Got it."
Scarlett's right hand slipped between their pressed bodies
and snuck into the elastic band of Devon's G-string panties.
I watched the tight fabric mold and conform against the back
of her hand, then three fingers spread outward and her middle
one traced upon and down Devon's sweet, tender pussy.
"Oh Scarlett!" Devon breathed out.
"You're soaking wet!" Scarlett teasingly admonished her.
"Did watching me deep-throat Jeremy turn you on?" When Devon
nodded her head, Scarlett pressed forward. "Oh, you feel so
hot and slippery." She was stroking her pussy now with a trio
of fingers. "Tight and slippery! Just how Jeremy likes 'em!
He's going to love fucking you, Devon. He's going to jam his
big cock in this tight, wet, slippery pussy, and make you cum
and cum and cum and cum some more. He's going to fuck your
pussy, then fuck your mouth so you can taste your own pussy."
Scarlett nodded knowingly. "And you know what else, Devon?
DEVVY? You know what else? I'm going to help him."
I moaned and shifted about uncomfortably upon the sofa,
my cock hard once again and throbbing so much it hurt. Good
God, Scarlett was rarely this verbal and aggressive during
sex! What had gotten into her? She must be really turned on!
Scarlett pushed at Devon until she was no longer astride
her chest. Both of them quickly discarded her denim jeans,
which had been at mid-thigh, and then off came the G-string.
Devon's D-cup breasts, which looked otherworldly on her small,
105 pound frame, bounced and jiggled as Scarlett positioned
her so she was flat on her back.
Suddenly, that beautiful, delicate pussy was facing me
directly, its clitoris all pink and swollen with arousal,
glistening with juices of desire. I had such a good view.
"Do you want to put your cock in there, Jeremy?"
"Yes," I told Scarlett. "God, yes!"
"Then do it! Fuck her!"
In a heartbeat, I was kneeling on the floor and between
Devon's widespread thighs. Scarlett grasped my cock with
her right hand and guided it toward those hot nether lips
while, at the same time, Devon locked eyes with me and
smiled. I leaned over for a quick kiss, then lowered and
eased my shaft into her pussy, its wetness engulfing me.
And dear Lord, was Devon tight! Incredibly tight!
"Go slow at first," was her only request.
"Okay," I agreed, as Scarlett rubbed and caressed my
shoulder blades from off to the side.
Devon began to moan and squeal, albeit softly, when I
was pumping my hips at a languid pace just seconds later.
Her lovely, enchanting face was alive with bliss, her blue
eyes glazed over with wanton lust. I leaned over and
kissed and nibbled away upon one of her ears. Meanwhile,
Scarlett gave the opposite ear the same treatment. I sank
back in fully, completely, forging my way to the hilt.
"Fuck her harder, Jeremy!" Scarlett encouraged me. "Pump
that pussy like you want to get her pregnant!"
My eyes wide, something inside of me snapped.
I was now pounding away at Devon and her pussy with all
of the strength and willpower that my body could possibly
muster. Her entire body was bucking and bouncing beneath me
in response, her eyes bulging and mouth agape, her cries now
ricocheting off the walls of the central room.
Scarlett was still hunched over, and had her tongue buried
in Devon's ear. "Must. Get. You. Pregnant!" I do not
know if Scarlett was being serious or not, but it was still a
fun and exciting scene regardless.
I grasped hold of Devon's wrists with both of my hands,
then spread them as far as she could reach and pinned them
to the floor. Her face flared with mad desire at being held
down in a submissive manner as she bucked her hips upward to
meet each of my hard, forceful thrusts. Devon's long-flowing
blonde hair was fanned out like a wave on the floor beneath
her as Scarlett sought her mouth for another round of kisses.
"Yeah, that's it!" Scarlett growled at me. "Hold her down
like a slut and fuck her with all you got!"
Suddenly Devon's body convulsed and she cried out at the
very top of her lungs. An instant later, it was as if her
pussy detonated around my length into a withering maelstrom.
Her slender frame shivered in orgasm beneath me, rippling
and twitching as if she was being electrocuted.
It was far too much for me to handle. With one deep,
final plunge, I shot a fresh, new batch of life-giving sperm
into her hungry, willing pussy. It felt like a high-pressure
hose inside the tight, unforgiving little crevice, spewing
its load everywhere, coating and soaking her womb completely.
In the aftermath, I toppled over in an exhausted heap on
the left side of Devon and stared up at the ceiling. She and
I lay there, panting, our bodies weak, as Scarlett peppered
us both with a series of gentle, loving kisses.
I reached out and touched Scarlett's baby bump, then she
latched onto my hand with her own and held it in place.
"I love you, Jeremy," she offered, settling down on the
opposite side of me. "I love you, Devon. I love you both."
I put my arm around Scarlett as Devon snuggled up close
to me as well. "And we love you too, baby. Oh, we do..."
* * *
I reached back and rubbed my neck, gently massaging the
aching group of muscles that called out from three hours of
poring over the books spread out in front of me. I glanced
at my wristwatch and took note of the fact that evening had
transitioned into early morning; it was 12:39am on Thursday,
March 3, 2016. I was in the home library - Pamela's private
sanctuary - doing research, trying to understand the ins and
outs of the upcoming crop and harvest season. I still had
so very much to learn about this farming business.
Half a dozen books were strewn and open around me, and my
fruit punch had long gone stale. I would have to remedy that
situation on my next break, but was not worried about it at
the moment. I stretched briefly, but then returned to my
research, taking notes on my laptop computer as I went.
It did not matter to me that our family's net worth,
thanks in large part to my prior business ventures when I was
younger, was somewhere in the two billion (USD) range. I had
taken control of this farm a year and a half ago - the same
farm that Kristanna's parents had built in 1979 and then spent
decades cultivating - and, by God, it was going to turn a
profit with me at the helm. Any financial gain was of no
consequence to me; this was just the business shark in me. I
had literally never failed at any business venture I took on.
But I had not done the greatest job managing the farm since
officially taking it over from Kristanna's parents, Kristof
and Rande. It was losing money at a steady pace. Still, we
would never run low on financial resources as a family, and
the farm would always be here, no matter what. It was much
too important to Kristanna to ever give up on, considering
how she had lived here for her entire life. All of her
childhood memories were here, and they were precious to her.
This farm was like Heaven on Earth to Kristanna.
But the bottom line was I felt highly perplexed that I
had yet to figure things out in regards to turning a profit
with the farm. Kristof would offer me input if I asked him;
but at 73 years of age, I preferred to let him enjoy his
retirement and not burden him with any work-related issues.
I really wanted to accomplish this on my own. Then again,
maybe that was the problem. I had always been very stubborn
and was under the impression, at least when it came to
business, that my way was the _only way_. Yet that mindset
had gotten me to where I am right now in life, right? It
had driven me to the financial security that we now had.
"Hey, you."
I looked up, lost in my work, but immediately smiled upon
seeing the one and only Lindsay standing at the entranceway
to the library. Lindsay, needless to say, was striking. She
was a little blonde firecracker with twinkly blue eyes and a
warm smile. Lindsay was the type of young woman that you
wanted to hug and kiss on for hours. And other things too.
She had on a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, with the drawing
of a smiling, funny-looking monster holding a tray of goodies
etched across its front, the words _Come to the dark side...
we have cookies!_ accompanying it. The 21-year-old also wore
a pair of black pajama pants with cookie designs (and bites
taken out of them) that matched the t-shirt. It was not sexy,
per se; but it was simply cute. Very, very cute.
I was not used to seeing Lindsay in pajamas. But she had
worn them every night since giving birth to our daughter,
Kaylee Janae, a little more than two weeks ago. Her body was
not back to its pre-pregnant form, of course, so Lindsay did
not feel comfortable sleeping in the nude as she had often
done in the past. In due time, though, she would. Lindsay
was going to begin an exercise regime with Trish in about a
month or so in order to get her trim figure back.
"Hey, sweetheart," I greeted Lindsay in return. Perhaps a
break from my farming research was not such a bad thing after
all. Especially if it involved this little doll.
"When are you coming to bed?" Lindsay asked me with an
exaggerated, yet highly irresistible pout, stepping closer.
It was too much. The large, sorrowful puppy dog eyes, the
pouty mouth, the little furrowed brow. I took a deep breath
as my resolve all but instantly crumbled.
"It is late," I conceded, motioning with both hands for
her to come closer. When she did, I brought Lindsay across
my lap and slid an arm around her delicate waistline. "How's
my little princess doing tonight?"
"Fine," Lindsay giggled, her cheeks blooming with that
gorgeous blush that had never once failed to captivate me.
That blush was her trademark. It was also irresistible.
"And Kaylee? Is she sleeping?"
"Yeah," Lindsay nodded. "She will probably get hungry and
wake up around three o'clock. That seems to be her routine.
I read her a bedtime story and she fell asleep at 11:30. I
like it how Kaylee really responds to my voice."
"All newborns find comfort and peace with the sound of
their mother's voice," I mused. "Kaylee is an extension of
you, honey. She certainly responds a whole lot more to you
at this point than she does me. But that is normal."
"Kaylee is an extension of you too, Jeremy."
"Oh I know, honey."
It was difficult for me to have the lovely and vivacious
Lindsay sitting in my lap, her body pressed against mine,
while not being able to act on my urges. In all honesty, I
wanted to rip Lindsay's pajamas off and make mad, passionate
love to her. And why not? Could anyone blame me?
Unfortunately, however, Lindsay's body was still recovering
and healing from the process of being pregnant for nine months
and then going through 15 hours of painful labor. She still
had a whole month - six total weeks after Kaylee was born -
before the doctor suggested that it was safe for her to become
sexually active and intimate again. I could hardly wait.
Nor could any of the other ladies in our family.
I smiled at her. "How about Trish and her baby, Jackson?
I trust Jackson is sleeping right now, too?"
"Trish and I put Jackson and Kaylee down at the same time,"
Lindsay informed me. "Trish is in bed with everyone else."
Lindsay jabbed at my shoulder with an extended finger and
playfully growled, "Which is where you should be, Jeremy!"
"But I don't wanna!" I grinned at her in defiance. "I
much prefer being right here with you - you in my lap -
over anything else right now. Sleep is highly over-rated."
Lindsay swiveled in my lap and reached over toward one of
the side drawers of the massive computer desk. She opened it
and fished around inside, then pulled out a small candy bar.
I thought I was the only one who knew that Pamela had a stash
of guilty delights hidden here in the library. Guess not.
"Chocolate is the cure for all the world's problems,"
Lindsay mused, slowly licking the remnants off of her thumb
with the sexy finesse that only she could master once the
candy bar was gone seconds later. My whole world came to an
abrupt halt as I took in the amazing visual. Lindsay was
equal parts beautiful and sexy. Toss in her sweet charm and
she often snagged the attention of anyone on two legs,
whether it be male or female. To say that Lindsay had a long
list of admirers was an understatement.
Yet she was my wife, and I was the only man she had ever
given herself to in a sexual way. Nothing was guaranteed,
of course, but I seriously doubted that would ever change.
I was going to be Lindsay's first and only man throughout
her entire life. The girl had eyes for no other man than me.
I mean, how awesome was that? Really? I felt incredibly
privileged and honored to be the only man Lindsay would ever
give herself to and experience on an intimate level.
"We should probably kiss or something," Lindsay suggested,
her lips a mere two inches from mine. She must have noticed
that I had been idly gawking at her. "I'd like that."
I chuckled lightly. Kissing was not against doctor's
orders, thankfully. "Oh yeah? You would, would you?"
"Very much so," Lindsay murmured before descending on my
mouth. There was no denying that our shared kiss was pretty
wonderful. We sank into it together; I felt it in my soul and
it spiraled outward, cascading and flooding every cell and
nerve ending within my body. I moved in closer, running my
hands up the back of her neck and throughout her hair. My
young bride purred in delight when she coiled her right leg
around my waist and squeezed generously as the scintillating
kisses continued and became even deeper and more emotional.
Before the spark between us turned into a raging inferno,
I made it a point to slow our pace before withdrawing my
mouth away entirely. I was tempted and this was difficult,
indeed, but I could not risk a setback to Lindsay's health by
becoming intimate with her this closely removed from delivery.
What if she were to start bleeding? I certainly did not want
to have to rush her to the hospital in the middle of the night.
Still, it had been one hell of a good make-out session and
both Lindsay and yours truly were breathless as a result.
Lindsay turned in my arms and nestled her back against me,
facing the mass of research books and the open laptop. She
knew the risk factor too, and that we had to stop before
things got out of control. Of course, I held Lindsay snugly
from behind and planted a kiss just below her earlobe, which
made her entire body shiver. Lindsay proceeded to cover my
arms with hers at her stomach and hug them even tighter to
her. She then offered the most content, grateful sigh ever.
"Since you refuse to go to sleep, Jeremy, I have an idea
what you and I could do to get through the night."
"Hmmmmm?" I grinned casually. "What's that, sweetheart?"
"_X-Box Live_!"
I laughed. Lindsay and her video games. "Sounds erotic."
Lindsay and I stayed in the library and talked for a long
time, which made it all the more better to me. We spoke about
parenthood and how our lives were going to be forever changed
because of not only Kaylee, but all of the other children as
well. She and I also touched on my upcoming wedding with
Scarlett which would take place next week here in Norway.
And Lindsay was going to marry Scarlett in the summer. We
also found plenty of other interesting topics to discuss.
I looked dreamily at Lindsay, who was still sprawled out
across my lap, though we had since moved to the comfortable
and plush sofa here in the library. "So, honey. I got one
for you. If you were stranded on a desert island with no one
else in sight, what would you do with your time?"
"Practice and perfect the cartwheel. No question. You?"
"Wow," I laughed. "You didn't even need a second to think
on that one. Ummmmm, I could try the cartwheel thing I guess,
but I would probably wind up breaking my neck in the process."
"That's because you're old."
My mouth dropped open in an equal mixture of playful shock
and offense. "I am NOT old, honey. You need to stop saying
that about me." I gave a mock sniff. "It's hurtful."
"It's not so much that you're 41, and going to be 42 in
three weeks," Lindsay explained. "You are old enough to be a
grandpa by the way, Jeremy, you know. But it's the simple
fact that while you may be 41, you have the body and physical
prowess of someone who is 101. You're old. Hardcore ancient."
I tilted my head and peered at her intently. Lindsay loved
to tease me and go on about the disparity in our ages. It had
been this way since we first met, and I doubt it would ever
change. I did not want it to change, mind you. It was fun
and playful, a free-spirited series of barbs we traded from
time to time. It was our own little thing.
But I decided to go back to the prior topic. "Stranded on
a desert island. The cartwheel you plan to perfect, Lindsay,
while good exercise, would not keep you alive."
"True, but think how impressed the rescuers would be if
they found me. They would make me the mayor of cartwheels!
They would give me to the key to Cartwheel City. You could
visit. But the city would need wheelchair access for you."
I shook my head in astonishment and pinned Lindsay beneath
me upon the sofa, only to start tickling her mercilessly in a
series of moves that had her squirming and giggling to escape
the assault. Still, she held steadfast.
"Say I'm the mayor of Cartwheel City!"
I smiled at her. "You are so whacky, it's scary."
"I'm not whacky, I'm charming!" she huffed as I put an end
to the tickle torture. "Now say it. Say what I would be."
I relented. "You, my incredibly sweet and beautiful wife,
would be the mayor of Cartwheel City."
Lindsay ran her hands up and down my sides. "Awwwww. I
like the way you said it, Jeremy. It was really nice."
I lifted her chin with one finger and met her gaze softly.
"I have been known to be nice every now and then."
"I love it when you're nice." Of course, there was that
mouth. God, that sweet mouth. I kissed it tenderly until
finally, Lindsay curled into my arms like she belonged there.
She did. It was her rightful place in life.
As it got deeper into the early morning hours and both of
us became quite groggy and tired, our conversation slowed and
eventually dwindled away. Still, I fought the urge to sleep,
wanting to savor every moment of having Lindsay within my arms
as she now slumbered away quite peacefully herself. As we lay
with our limbs tangled, her face tucked into my neck, I knew
that falling asleep was so totally not worth it. I wanted to
relish the togetherness that I felt with her right now.
But the sound of a crying baby at 3:13am broke the tranquil
bliss and serenity of the moment for me, and immediately gave
me a new priority. I reached over and shut off the wireless
baby monitor within a second, then was delighted to find that
the sudden outburst had not awakened Lindsay. She startled,
yes, but went right back into a deep and relaxing sleep. Oh,
that cry belonged to Kaylee. She was awake, and hungry.
Lindsay had stretched herself to the absolute max over the
past two weeks taking care of Kaylee and tending to her every
infant whim. Right now, at least, I was going to allow Lindsay
to sleep through Kaylee's cries and struggles, and handle the
situation myself. Lindsay deserved some time off.
I left my wife all nice and snuggled within two blankets
on the library sofa and quickly hurried off toward the nursery
room that Kaylee shared with her older brother (by a whole
three days!), Jackson. As luck would have it, Jackson was
awake and feeding too; his mother, Trish, cradled him close
to her chest as she stood over Kaylee's crib, gently massaging
her cries away with a thumb caressing her neck and shoulders.
"Where have you been all night?" Trish asked me, obviously
referring to the fact that I never did join her and the others
in bed. I hope none of them worried about me. "And Lindsay?"
Trish glanced around and behind me. "Where is Lindsay? I
imagine that she has been with you this whole, entire time?"
"Lindsay and I were having too good of a conversation to
pass up by going to bed earlier in the library," I informed
Trish. "She eventually did fall asleep, and is still there.
I'm going to take care of Kaylee myself tonight."
My little daughter was upset and quite fussy when I picked
her up and lovingly cradled her to my sternum with both arms.
Trish went over to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle
with Kaylee's name on it; it was her infant formula. Lindsay
had decided that she was going to occasionally supplement
Kaylee's breastfeeding diet with a bottle every now and then.
After all, breastfeeding was physically demanding and taxing
for a new mother. Some handled it much better than others.
Fortunately, Kaylee did not seem to mind the bottle as an
alternative. This would be her fourth time using it.
"Everyone else asleep in bed?"
"Oh yeah," Trish responded, strolling over to her favorite
rocking chair and taking a seat there. I followed closely
behind, only to give Trish a kiss on the lips, followed by a
peck on the cheek to Jackson. But he was too happy of a
little dude right now to even notice.
"Any issues or complaints from Kristanna or Scarlett
before they fell asleep?" Both ladies were eight months
pregnant, of course. Scarlett was carrying a boy (Dylan)
while Kristanna would soon give birth to a girl (Ariel).
Their personal happiness and well-being was first and
foremost on my mind at the moment.
"No, not really," Trish responded. "Everyone was pretty
happy and in a good mood tonight. We watched some romantic
comedy movies in bed, and then people started going out like
lights. Although, many of us wondered where you were, Jeremy.
Lindsay then checked the voyeur room and said she found you
knee-deep in research books in the library." Trish grinned
and chuckled lightly, apparently at the forthcoming thought.
"Lindsay said you looked all stern, and super serious."
"Still trying to figure out this whole farming thing." I
then glanced down at Kaylee, and smiled at her. She was only
two weeks old; so incredibly delicate, and utterly precious.
Kaylee was the result of the love that Lindsay and I shared.
I truly believed that letting a baby take a bottle from
Dad was a great way to encourage bonding while, at the same
time, giving Mom a much-needed break. I felt a special,
certain sense of closeness with Kaylee as I began feeding
her through the bottle. Gazing down at her, feeling the
tenderness of skin-to-skin contact, knowing that I was
providing vital nourishment... this was bonding at its best.
Trish draped a towel across her shoulder and held Jackson
against it, then began to pat his back in quick, rapid-fire
succession. After about 20 seconds, Jackson let out a little
burp and Trish allowed him to return to breastfeeding.
"Make sure you burp Kaylee for every one ounce of fluid
that she takes," Trish reminded me.
Not to be forgotten or denied proper credit, of course,
but Trish was a very original, sophisticated and all-natural
stunner. A fiercely loyal spirit that often found herself
as the center of attention, Trish embodied a fun and friendly
persona that fit seamlessly with the rest of the ladies in
our family. She was completely uncompromising in both her
hobbies and work, needing to see things through to the end.
The 33-year-old tackled every project in life with her all.
Trish's signature curvaceous and sexy figure came from
well over 15 years of athletic conditioning. This fit and
foxy lady was once employed as a fitness instructor in her
original hometown near Toronto. Trish had played hockey,
lacrosse and volleyball, and even took up both the martial
arts and kickboxing for a few years while still in Canada.
Perhaps most impressive of all was that Trish had held
steadfast in her promise to stay physically fit and active
while pregnant with our son, Jackson. At nine months in,
Trish would wake up every morning and perform 100 squats
without any assistance. Everyone would marvel at her for it
and her doctor encouraged Trish to continue to do it even
deep into her pregnancy. Because her body was so well
honed and conditioned from countless years of exercise (not
to mention accustomed to its trials and rigors), there was
no risk factor for the baby. Jackson was never in danger.
As a result of such a devoted and healthy lifestyle, while
Trish did not quite have the hardbody look back just yet
after giving birth two and a half weeks ago, no one could
even tell that she had been pregnant to begin with. It was
remarkable. Trish was encouraging everyone in our family,
even without saying a word, to stay active and live healthy.
I had never pinned down what Trish's ultimate appeal for
me was, though. Perhaps it was her smile? It was golden,
and so very genuine. How about her personality? She was
very friendly and outgoing, and had a kind word for everyone.
Trish was very approachable, with a down-home quality about
her while also being very glamorous all at the same time.
Maybe her work ethic and dedication? No one appreciated the
time and effort that she put into her body more than I did.
But perhaps my favorite quality about Trish, believe it
or not, was the unparalleled love that she felt for Lindsay.
Yes, I believe that is the case. Trish loved Lindsay with
every fiber of her being, her soul. It had been that way
since the moment they met each other. Almost three years
later, those feelings were a trillion times more intense.
Trish would do anything for Lindsay. She would die for her.
Contemplating these thoughts, I glanced over at Trish and
smiled at her. Oh, she was so incredibly pretty. Swirls of
caramel-brown hair cascaded down and complimented her sweet,
gorgeous face, and she eventually smiled back me. There were
no words exchanged, but it was an awesome moment in time.
Trish knew exactly what I thought of her.
A half-hour later, Kaylee finally finished off the bottle
as Trish looked on and watched me with a grin, seemingly
transfixed. She had put Jackson back into his crib earlier.
"I think Kaylee already gained like an ounce in the time I
fed her," I mused, which made Trish break out into laughter.
"I think she got taller, too." I gazed down into Kaylee's
sleepy, blue eyes and swooned, "You're gettin' taller already,
because Daddy fed you. Yeah, Daddy fed you, so you're gettin'
taller. And you're gonna projectile vomit all over my face
any second now too... I can already sense it."
"Hey!" came a perplexed, high-pitched whine from beside
us. When I turned, I found Lindsay standing at the doorway
to the nursery. She did not seem all too happy. "What are
you doing, Jeremy, feeding Kaylee without me?" Wait. Lindsay
was awake? I had left her sleeping like a log in the library.
Trish quickly bridged the distance between herself and
Lindsay, and ran a reassuring hand throughout her hair. "He
wanted to give you a break, honey. That's all."
"But if Jeremy is going to feed Kaylee, I want to be there
to watch it!" Lindsay shrieked. Indeed, she was quite upset.
"Do you know how special it is for me to watch my baby girl
and her daddy share a special moment like that? I missed it!"
"I'm sorry, honey," I frowned at her. "I just thought it
would be best if you got a little extra rest is all."
Lindsay was still pouting, but took a deep breath and
seemed to relent. "Kaylee finished the whole bottle?"
"Yes," I replied, handing the little bundle of joy to her.
"She just needs to be burped for her final time."
What I tried and failed at for the last five minutes -
coaxing that final burp out of Kaylee - Lindsay accomplished
herself with about ten seconds of effort. Indeed, she had a
mother's touch. Nothing in the world could compete with it.
"Oh, you're REALLY tired," Lindsay commented to Kaylee,
nodding her head for emphasis. She put Kaylee in her crib
and covered her with her blue puppy blanket. "Time to go to
sleep, sweetie. Night-night! I love you!"
Suddenly, Lindsay broke out into chorus with a musical
verse. "Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight. With
lillies o'er spread, is baby's wee bed. Lay thee down now
and rest, may thy slumber be blessed. Lay thee down now and
rest, may thy slumber be blessed."
I recognized this particular song. It was Brahms' Lullaby,
originally written and composed in the year 1868 by German
songwriter Johannes Brahm. Lindsay, who had an excellent
singing voice, gave a wonderful rendition of the famous
lullaby song. Best of all, she was not finished quite yet.
"Lullaby and good night, thy mother's delight. Bright
angels beside, my darling abide. They will guard thee at
rest, thou shalt wake on my breast. They will guard thee at
rest, thou shalt wake on my breast."
"She's out," Lindsay then whispered, turning to look at
both Trish and yours truly. "That was quick."
"Jackson is sleeping too," Trish murmured. "I say the
three of us go to bed ourselves. It's almost four o'clock."
"That's the best idea I've heard all day," I nodded,
latching hands with Trish and Lindsay simultaneously. I
had been awake for 21 hours straight, and was dragging.
* * *
Good Lord, I slept hard. That much, I was clear on. My
arms and legs felt heavy and weak when I awoke much later
that morning. It took several well-devoted blinks before
the circumstances of the morning gradually floated my way in
loose, fragmented waves.
But something was really nice. There was a warmth all
around me, the type of fantastic, amazing warmth that I could
not help but to revel in for a moment or two. Or not.
Realization suddenly dawned on me and I was in shock.
That warmth I spoke of? I was lying in bed with my legs
spread apart, but Amy was hunched over on her elbows and
knees directly between them. She was grasping and frigging
my throbbing cock with both hands while using her tongue to
lick it into a heated frenzy. The black t-shirt that Amy
wore was so large that it hung to her knees. On the front of
it were the words _High Maintenance... but SO worth it_.
Amy's green eyes sparkled and she flashed me a naughty
grin as her tongue continually fluttered over the head of my
cock. "Oh... it's about time you woke up, sleepy-head!"
I glanced over at the alarm clock and noticed that it was
11:37am. Indeed, I had not slept this deep into the morning
in quite a long time. I closed my eyes and let my head fall
back to the pillow in sheer ecstasy once Amy took the entire
length of my shaft into her mouth. Her red head furiously
bobbed up-and-down on my cock as she made audible slurping
noises. I simply relaxed there and wondered to myself if
there could possibly be a better way to wake up than _this_.
I watched Amy settle her slender frame onto the mattress
as she lay on her frontside, with her feet skyward and idly
dangling about. Now holding the base of my shaft with her
right hand, Amy extended her tongue and swiped it over and
across its thick, pulsing underside. She then moaned and
dropped her mouth upon the very tip of my erection.
But like a responsible parent, I needed the answer to a
certain question. "Honey, where's the baby at?" I was
referring, of course, to Dani Grace - our seven-month-old
daughter that Amy and I had together.
"She is playing with Devon and Lindsay," Amy told me, her
mouth continuing to suck and pay homage to my shaft as if it
was the most natural thing in the world to do. "She's fine.
Devon insisted that I have some _alone time_ with you."
Satisfied with that answer, I growled out like a madman as
Amy continued to pump my cock with her right hand while now
using her left to cup and stimulate my testicles. Her right
hand moved faster and faster while her mouth sucked harder
and harder. It was the type of blowjob one saw in an X-rated
film. Yet coming from my wife, it was beyond perfect.
Amy's hot, wet tongue was all over my testicles now, licking
them as if they were candy-coated treats. She sucked one into
her mouth, used her hand to squeeze them together, then sucked
on both at the same time. The feeling was sensational! She
then tongued me up and down before taking me whole yet again,
stuffing my cock into the deep, far reaches of her throat.
Amy kept her lips sealed incredibly tight, her eyes focused
on my face and not once straying. She kept stroking me with a
single hand before I growled and shot a creamy, thick salvo of
sperm into her hungry, awaiting mouth. More eruptions quickly
ensued, and Amy gratefully extracted and then swallowed every
last remnant of gooey seed from me that she possibly could. I
finished with a whimper as she happily smacked her own lips.
The 33-year-old hellcat was obviously very proud of herself.
"Bet you weren't expecting to wake up to this," Amy
commented after a short pause, her smile beaming. Now on her
hands and knees, she glided upward and settled directly beside
me upon the bed. Amy nuzzled her face upon my shoulder and
sighed contently while massaging my chest with her hand.
"Hmmmmm... good morning," she announced next.
I wrapped an arm around Amy's shoulder and pulled her a
bit closer to me. "Yes, good morning. Good morning, indeed."
I was still reeling from being woke up in the sizzling manner
that I had. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside as a result.
"Where is everyone?" was my absent-minded question. "Any
of the others go out and do anything today?"
"Oh no," Amy responded. "Not at all. We got snow last
night, Jeremy. Everyone is home, keeping warm."
I raised my head and looked toward the window, but the
blinds were drawn and thus, I could not see the amount of
snow outside. Of course, I could not help but to chuckle at
the situation. I had gone from the tropical, year-round
paradise of the island to the cold, frigid winters of Norway.
But I was not complaining. This was our family's home now.
I would not trade it for anything in the whole, wide world.
Still, what a difference a few years could make.
I recalled Devon mentioning yesterday that snow was in the
forecast overnight. "How much snow did we get, Amy?"
"A good amount," she answered. "Several inches. The
ground is completely covered, and it's the thick type."
I grinned. "Perfect for building a snow-man. I bet Kaden
and Piper would love to play in the snow for a bit, if it's
not too windy. We will have to see in a bit." Kaden (19
months) and Piper (15 months) were my two oldest children.
Their mothers were Kristanna and Pamela, respectively.
"I talked to my mom for a long time this morning."
"Oh? How did that conversation go? She doing okay?"
"Yeah," Amy nodded. "Mom said everything is still on
track for her and Dad to move here by the beginning of the
summer. Dad already has a couple of employment opportunities
lined up here in Norway and is exploring them."
I kissed the very crown of Amy's head and smiled. "Your
parents moving here and getting involved in your life on a
routine basis, and being here for Dani Grace... I think it
is such an awesome idea, Amy. A neat idea, a great idea. I
just want your parents to know if they need any assistance
in the transition, I would be more than happy to help them."
Amy vehemently shook her head as I ended, "Moving overseas -
from the United States to Norway - is a very costly ordeal."
"They don't want you to help them," Amy reminded me for
literally the hundredth time. "They have enough money for
everything to work out. Dad is very stubborn about that. He
does not want any hand-outs, or even a loan, from you."
As long-time and loyal readers of the "Island Fever" saga
should easily recall, for several years, Amy had what could
be mildly described as a _strained relationship_ with both
her mother and father. Well, no. To be more precise (blunt),
there had been a mutual disdain between her and them. A very
harsh and cruel disdain.
Amy, an only child, never felt loved or wanted when she was
growing up. Her father once told her that she was actually a
mistake, and should have never been born in the first place.
Amy was mostly abandoned in several ways as a youngster; she
had to cook and clean for herself by the tender age of eight.
Amy's parents, Robert and Kathleen, disapproved of many of the
decisions that she had made in her life, especially those as
an adult. They saw her first marriage (to a black man named
Eddie) as a colossal lapse in judgment on her part. That
marriage only lasted three years with two long separations
mixed within. They also disapproved of Amy's promiscuous
behavior (she cheated on Eddie several times behind his back
and, once divorced, had multiple boyfriends at the same time).
Even as Amy came to the island and eventually surrounded
herself with people who actually loved and cared for her -
namely, the other ladies and yours truly - and we were able to
finally steer her life in the proper direction, Robert and
Kathleen still had their doubts. Despite a strong network of
love and support, and the fact that she was receiving medical
treatment for years of mental issues and personal anguish,
Amy's parents simply did buy the change at first. I met them
a few times and did my best to be friendly and cordial, but
they wanted no part of me, either. To them, I was another
Eddie. I would hurt Amy, or she would hurt me. Or both.
And they wanted to distance themselves from that.
Amy and I tried several times to hook up with Robert and
Kathleen, but they would always turn us away in one form or
another. It got to the point where we nearly gave up hope.
As time went on, though, Robert and Kathleen began to
change their tune. Although thousands of miles away, they
did their best to keep up with Amy in whatever manner they
could. They saw that she had finally found a home - with us -
and that was not going to change. Amy was not going to cheat
on me or the other ladies, and ruin everything. I was not
going to ...physically assault... Amy, as Eddie did from time
to time (I do not want to get started, or delve into that
topic here). Robert and Kathleen saw photographs of a happy
and smiling Amy, a vibrant Amy, over the Internet on a near
daily basis. They realized that she had finally straightened
up - perhaps even grown up - and turned her life around.
We had no idea of their change of heart, of course. I
showed up, unannounced, on Robert and Kathleen's doorstep
last June (while on vacation in Ohio with Lindsay) and told
them that Amy was very deep into her pregnancy, she had some
serious health issues during it, and that she would be giving
birth very soon. I also told them that it would mean the
absolute world to Amy if somehow, someway, they could be there
for her in Norway when Dani Grace was born. After all, Robert
and Kathleen were Dani Grace's grandparents-in-waiting.
I was expecting another rejection, of course, but was
shocked when both of them literally jumped at the opportunity.
They said they had been looking for a way to reconnect with
Amy and get back into her life, and make everything right
with her, but felt that window of opportunity had long since
shut. I made arrangements with them and, lo and behold,
Amy's parents were right beside her in the hospital room here
in Sandvika when Dani Grace was born on August 3, 2015.
Since that time, a lot of healing had taken place between
Amy and her parents. After they returned home to the United
States, Amy spoke with them five or six days per week over
the telephone and confided nearly everything about her life
to them. For perhaps the first time ever, Amy felt cared
for and loved by her parents. And it was a wonderful thing.
Robert and Kathleen took a vested interest in Dani Grace,
their granddaughter, and always wanted to know about her.
At Christmastime, Kathleen called and informed us that
she and Robert wanted to take the next step and actually be
the parents for Amy that she had deserved all along. They
were going to leave their home in Ohio and move to Norway in
order to be with Amy and Dani Grace on a near daily basis.
They even wanted to get to know each of Amy's wives on an
individual basis. As you may imagine, this was the best
Christmas present that Amy could have ever possibly received.
There was a tremendous amount of effort and planning into
making a move like this possible, so it was not going to
happen overnight. Robert and Kathleen were still in the
process of getting everything squared away, but hoped to be
here and settled into a home by the end of May. The house
they had their eyes on was only a half-mile down the road.
Amy could not wait until her parents were able to move here.
Perhaps it would help erase the scars from her childhood.
"Lindsay actually answered my cell phone for me this
morning when it rang, and talked to Mom for a few minutes,"
Amy mused as she and I continued to lounge and relax in bed
following her monumental blowjob. "I thought it was kind of
neat. Lindsay was telling Mom all about Jackson and Kaylee."
"Oh? What did she say to her?"
Amy smiled. "Lindsay was telling my mom that when Kaylee
was born and she was able to look into her eyes for the very
first time, it was the most amazing experience of her entire
life. Lindsay told my mom that giving birth to Kaylee has
overwhelmed her in the best possible way... the happy way."
As Amy spoke, I found myself transfixed with that mouth.
Oh, Amy's wondrous mouth - those puffy, lilac soft lips which
could provide endless amounts of unyielding stimulation and
pleasure. They were Aphrodite-red and looked as sweet as
strawberries. And damn, I suddenly felt hungry.
Amy halted everything and focused entirely on me as I
threaded my fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her
head, gently aligning her gaze with my own. "Why is it, Amy,
that every time I look at you, all I want to do is kiss you?"
Amy let out an audible sigh as I lowered my head and
settled my mouth over top of hers. The kiss was pure magic.
A jolt of electrical current cascaded throughout my body,
straight to the juncture between my legs, and the world around
us seemed to momentarily cease to exist. Amy placed her hand
on my jaw and a warm glow suddenly filled my soul.
We tasted and teased each other until Amy opened her mouth
with a gentle groan. Our tongues dueled, tormented and made
love in a blissful symphony. Soon, simple breathing became
very difficult. Still, I needed more. I fisted her hair with
my hand, drawing her head back, allowing myself even greater
access to her mouth. And like a starving man, I fed. A tidal
wave of need crushed my senses. I moved my hands to Amy's
face, holding her steady as I kissed her hungrily, madly.
Slowing the kiss, I traced my tongue across Amy's lower
lip and even bit on it ever so gently. Finally, I pulled my
mouth away and caressed Amy's cheek with my thumb. I gazed
deep into her eyes and simply said, "I love you, sweetheart."
Amy smiled. "I love you too, Jeremy."
"Coffee delivery girl," Scarlett practically sang as she
suddenly appeared by opening the bedroom door, and stepping
inside. "I'm here to make all of your wintery chills go
away, and your morning dreams come true, via caffeine."
"The coffee fairy didn't forget us, Amy," I grinned, as
Scarlett deposited a plain latte for me on the night-stand
next to the bed.
"Yay," Amy deadpanned.
"Morning, Amy." Scarlett kissed her cheek with a smack.
"And you're in a good mood, too. Again."
Scarlett inhaled and smiled at Amy. "That I am. Just
nine short days until Jeremy and I get married." She handed
Amy the other cup. "And an almond latte for you, my dear."
Scarlett then glanced all around the bedroom, yet promptly
noticed the outline of my cock poking against the thin fabric
of the bedsheet. Suddenly, she was blushing like mad. "Oh,
I'm sorry," Scarlett offered, embarrassed, giving both Amy and
I equal looks. "Did I interrupt something? I can leave."
"You're not going anywhere," Amy purred, latching onto
Scarlett's wrist and gently reeling her closer. With her
opposite hand, Amy took a quick drink of her coffee and then
placed its cup onto the night-stand on her side of the bed.
Slowly, gingerly, Scarlett planted a knee upon the mattress
and allowed herself to be pulled onto it. She promptly
settled herself directly between Amy and yours truly, but was
facing Amy. The two ladies shared a deep, slow-moving kiss
as I lifted the hem of Scarlett's dress up past her waistline.
I smiled at the sight of her red thong panties, as well as the
delicate, sexy bulge of her stomach. I just had to touch and
caress it. That ass was nice and smooth, too, and warranted
plenty of attention. Perhaps it could be my lunch?
Scarlett broke the kiss with Amy, only to turn and smile at
me. I pressed my lips to hers and we had our own exchange of
tongues as Amy splayed kisses along the back of Scarlett's
neck and across her shoulders. A moment later, Scarlett
turned and re-focused all of her attention upon Amy.
Listening to the sounds that Amy and Scarlett made as they
enjoyed and sampled each other, while I lay idly by in our
luxurious bedroom that was just one small part of an enormous
mansion, I sighed in a kind of pleasurable disbelief at the
blessings life had brought me. Six extraordinary wives - soon
to be seven - all of whom I had an iron-clad bond with that I
could hardly imagine any other man in history had enjoyed.
The means to live exactly as we pleased as a family - to have
the ability to go on vacation at a moment's notice - to be
able to spend so much quality time together, to watch our
children grow and develop... we were so incredibly blessed.
"Lick my pussy now, sweetheart," Amy said, followed by
the rhythmic wet sounds of Scarlett complying, and then Amy
sighing out in ecstasy, "Oh Scarlett, baby, you're so...
you're so good, baby. Oh my, oh God..."
I grinned. Watching the various women share themselves
seemed to excite me even more than having them myself, at
least sometimes. And the best part of all was the common
goal of everyone in our family to make this life that we
shared, all together, a kind of fulfillment that seemed
otherwise impossible. All seven ladies and yours truly,
together, each living out the erotic identities that none
of us thought we ever could, playing with each other,
pleasuring each other, loving each other.
* * *
I piled the wood logs on the porch and stomped my feet,
snow tumbling off my boots. Born in Ohio and having spent
my high school years in New Jersey, I was no stranger to
cold winters like this and the snow that often accompanied
them. Overnight, Sandvika and its surrounding area here in
Norway had accumulations of nearly five inches of snow. Oh,
what a difference a day makes. Yesterday was pleasant.
I stretched my arms wide, feeling quite invigorated after
chopping all this wood for the fire. What a workout! I
remembered when I was growing up, I would follow my father
outside during those cold days and watch him as he chopped
firewood in order to help keep our family warm. I had always
looked up to my father during my younger, more formative
years, and wanted to emulate him in every possible way. I
was no different than any other normal boy, I suppose.
Back in the present time, the glow of the fire from the
porch brought about a peculiar hesitation for me. For an
instant, I could have sworn I smelled my mother's cooking.
Even stranger, I allowed myself to linger in the past.
My mother always reminded me that I had to take my shoes
off before getting past the front foyer whenever there was
even a tiny hint of snow on the ground. Muddying up the
carpet was a cardinal sin to her. I absolutely worshiped my
two older brothers, Dan and Steve, and tried to tag along
with them whenever I could. My sister, Di (also older), was
quite popular, and I often thought her as a glitzy movie star
back in those days. She was a superstar to me. Madonna, the
musician who had just burst onto the scene, had nothing on my
sister in the early-to-mid 1980's. Not in my eyes, at least.
When did it all go wrong? Why did my mother and father
have to split apart? Why did Steve have to land on the
wrong side of the fence, having been in and out of jail for
mostly petty crimes for the past 35 years? Why did I have
to fall out of favor with Di and Dan in recent years?
Looking back on things, I felt that my father getting
transferred in his job to New Jersey - in January 1987 - was
the one, single point where everything started to go in the
wrong direction for our family. Age 12 at the time, I moved
to New Jersey with my parents. I had no choice. Di and Dan
stayed behind in Ohio. Steve was locked away in jail, having
been caught in the middle of a drug deal gone sour.
The move was the first thing that fractured our family.
Mom was not happy being away from home, nor was she afraid
to let Dad know about it. Dad was overworked and highly
overstressed, and not content at all with his private life.
Me? I was quiet and shy, very reserved, and suddenly in a
town and school where I knew no one, and felt as if I did
not belong. In their mid-20's, Dan and Di banded together
in Ohio and became much closer while distancing themselves -
physically and emotionally - from Mom and Dad, as well as me.
Why, because of the recent choices I had made in my own
life - having six (and soon to be seven) wives and a number
of children which seemed to multiply exponentially - had Di
and Dan all but disowned me as their brother, their flesh
and blood? They felt appalled by me and the life that I
currently led. Did the fact that I was finally happy in
life not matter to them? They did not understand me at all.
They did not understand what my life in Norway was about.
Yet, Dan and Di had disowned Steve, too. He was their
brother, just like me. But they refused to admit that Steve
was their brother because of all the brushes with the law he
had gotten himself into over the years. Yes, I was in the
same boat. To them, I was no longer their brother, either.
Steve was the criminal. I was the unholy sinner.
Steve had a wife and two daughters in high school. They
lived in squalor, in the backwoods of Kentucky, and barely
had enough to survive. This past November, Steve needed a
liver transplant, or he was going to die. Once a match was
found, I made arrangements for him to be transported to a
hospital in downtown Cincinnati, and paid for the surgical
procedure and all other expenses out of my very own pocket.
Dan and Di? Nowhere to be found on the day of the
surgery, either in the waiting room or while Steve was in
recovery afterward. Mom was not there, either, but I knew
that she loved Steve and was concerned about him. Mom chose
not to show up because Dad was there, right alongside me.
They had been seperated since 1998 and had only seen each
other one time since - and that was at my wedding with
Kristanna. Mom's excuse was that she could not bear being in
the same presence as Dad ever again. It was too much for her.
Whether or not people can sympathize with Mom and her
feelings, I do not know, but I had a serious issue with Dan
and Di. Indeed, they had shut Steve out of their lives. Me
too, right? Their very own brother was getting major,
extensive surgery - an organ transplant - and neither of
them bothered to show up and lend their love and support.
Both of them lived in the Cincinnati area, for Christ's sake!
Hell, Dad - even at age 77 - travelled there all the way from
California to be with Steve. Dad was not on the best of terms
with Steve, but he was there when his son needed him most.
The surgery was a success and Steve is doing well, but the
whole ordeal really put things into perspective for me as it
pertained to Dan and Di. There was no coming back for them.
The way they had even refused to acknowledge Steve and the
fact that he was getting surgery - a surgery that he needed,
else he would die by the end of the year - was disgusting to
me. Utterly and purely disgusting, and inhumane.
As a youngster, I could see all their faces, smiling and
laughing, having a wonderful time around the dinner table. I
remember playing an old, archaic version of video football on
the _Atari 2600_ console with Dan for hours, days, weeks on
end. The graphics were so bad, the players on the field
looked like pretzel sticks. Yet at the time, it was the
greatest video game over. Well, that... and _Space Invaders_.
That was my biggest regret in life nowadays. Perhaps it
was my only regret. My parents, my sister, my two brothers...
I will never get to experience another moment with all of them
together at the same time again. Bits and pieces of the
family had been ripped and torn to shreds; those wounds would
never be healed. It was sad, painful and very disheartening.
Never say never, I guess I relent, but I had no illusions
that there would be a magical reunion for my entire family
and I similar to the one that Amy recently experienced with
her parents. Very simply, it was not going to happen. The
breaking point had already been passed long ago.
I blinked back the moisture in my eyes that I somehow
convinced myself was from the cold, bitter wind, and not some
overzealous emotions. I cleared my throat and entered the
mansion with a bundle of fresh firewood over my shoulder.
"Two chicken littles with no pickles?" I knew who that
voice belonged to, and smiled as a result of it. My dear,
sweet, incredibly precious... Pamela. "You're crazy." She
was resting comfortably alongside Kristanna upon the sofa.
The two ladies seemed to be in the middle of a discussion.
If you wanted to call it that, I suppose.
"Two chicken littles with no pickles!" Kristanna shot back,
that playful, vibrant demeanor of hers on full display. And
so was a big, beautiful baby bump. Like Scarlett, Kristanna
was eight months pregnant. She had her legs leisurely draped
across Pamela's lap. "I'm crazy? You're crazy, Pammy. You
don't know what in the world you're talking about!"
"You're supposed to always have pickles on your chicken
littles," Pamela countered, trying to be the voice of reason.
Kristanna sighed. "OH... when you get pickles on your
chicken littles, you need some nickles to pay for those
pickles on your chicken littles." As Pamela gasped loudly in
response, she and Kristanna stared at each other for a moment
with wide, bulging eyes, then giggled in unison and turned to
look at me. Kristanna then made a strange gesture and pointed
my way. "Look, Pammy. It's... the ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN!"
"Jeremy does have some certain ape-like tendencies," Pamela
teased, trying (but failing) to conceal her smile.
"Oh, look," I offered in an innocent voice. "It's Frick
and Frack." That was one of my many nicknames for these two,
especially when paired as a duo. I then eyed Kristanna and
grinned, "Or should I call you... the incubator?"
Kristanna glanced down at her pregnant belly, then back at
me and made a face. It was followed by a giggle, of course.
"Well," Pamela shrugged at me, "you're the masturbator."
"Oh, you girls have got it going today!" I chuckled at
them. "Your comedy act tonight cancelled due to the snow?
Taking it all out on me now, are you?"
"There is nothing better to me in the world than being
able to rip and tease on you, Jeremy," Kristanna commented.
"Well, except for ripping and teasing on Pammy." Pamela
shot her a look as Kristanna concluded, "Nothing tops that."
Pamela held up a menacing, yet equally playful fist, and
waved it about just in front of Kristanna's face for several
seconds. The mere image made me burst out into laughter.
"You two should really just kiss and make up."
Pamela leered at me. "You'd like that. Wouldn't you?"
"Of course," I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"
The personal relationship between Kristanna and Pamela had
evolved over time to the point where, quite simply, they were
now inseparable. Kristanna and Pamela were the absolute best
of friends, and wildly in love with each other. They were
literally joined at the hip! Their mutual love rivaled that
of Trish and Lindsay's.
Pamela had changed a great deal since the day I first met
her on the island nearly three years ago. The core person
was still there and intact, of course - Pamela's principals
and values, but her outlook on life and the way she carried
herself was completely different. A lot of that could be
attributed to Kristanna and the effect that she had on her.
The Pamela I remembered from June 2013 was very reserved
and cautious, even somewhat withdrawn. The former exotic
dancer may have been charming and sweet, but she was also
very guarded. That woman literally kept a force field of a
barrier around her at all times. Pamela had been in the
strip club circuit long enough that the verbal abuse and
degredation, the humiliation, she experienced on a nightly
basis had chipped away at her trust in humanity as a whole.
When I first met her, Pamela rarely smiled or laughed.
She would have rather stayed at home and read a book instead
of going out for an evening on the town with friends. Pamela
had not been on a date with another man in over a year. She
simply did not trust others or their intentions. Although
spending nearly all of her free time by herself had provided a
keen sense of comfort and security, it also led to a lot of
lonely nights that chipped away at her pysche in other ways.
She was a broken person, with an even more broken soul.
Pamela in March 2016? Thanks to yours truly and the loving
group of amazing women who surrounded her on a daily basis,
Pamela was very sociable and outgoing. She was upbeat and
lively, oftentimes had a smile, and absolutely loved to laugh
and joke around. Pamela had changed so much in such a short
amount of time, and it was all for the better. The person who
was most responsible for this transformation, aside from
Pamela herself, was Kristanna. Go figure.
It is simply impossible to be around someone as eternally
cheerful as Kristanna for any length of time and not have a
happy demeanor and consequently a better sense of well-being
because of it. Kristanna had spent so much time with Pamela
since she had finally committed to our family and way of life
in December 2013, been around her day in and day out, her
personality and infectious attitude had simply rubbed off on
her. Kristanna radiated happiness and positive energy.
She always had a smile and had formed warm bonds with
everyone in our family. The good vibrations that Kristanna
regularly emitted earned her a level of appreciation, both
inside and outside the family, that was unmatched. Who
doesn't want to be around a jovial person that has a constant
smile and simply exudes pure sunshine and sweetness?
Kristanna led her life to the fullest. Not overly greedy
or self-centered at all, Kristanna appreciated what she had
and constantly recognized the many blessings that came her
way. And she was more than willing to show gratitude and
appreciation herself when it was necessary.
Kristanna had gotten so close to Pamela in the time they
had been together, and subsequentally stole her heart. There
was a very strong connection between the two of them. Pamela
could find happiness with just a simple acknowledgement from
Kristanna; be it a mere look, a polite nod, or a friendly smile.
As a result of Kristanna and her influence (as well as the
rest of us, mind you) Pamela's world was very bright, sunny,
optimistic and full of joy.
Of course, Kristanna had that same sort of impact on
several others in our little group. Perhaps none moreso than
me, right? I was once a shy recluse, literally afraid of my
own shadow, living on a deserted island in the middle of the
Pacific Ocean for 13 years before Kristanna came into my life.
...Look at me today... Kristanna was the unquestioned
catalyst and driving force that forever changed my life.
Everything I had, I owed to her. There was no denying it.
After putting the firewood that I had carried into the
mansion down near the fireplace and shrugging off my heavy
winter coat, Kristanna turned toward Pamela and seemingly
spoke randomly, "This sofa is very... you."
"Hmmmmm?" Pamela inquired, curling a knee up and resting
one of her bare feet upon the sofa cushion. "You think so?
The sofa is very... me? In what way?"
"The high, sculpted back and arms signify a truly grand,
regal quality. You do that too."
"Okay," Pamela nodded. "I can live with that."
"And the gray is conservative, also like you."
"You think I'm conservative?" Pamela asked, dubious.
"I KNOW you're conservative," Kristanna responded with a
grin. Pamela shrugged in halfhearted acceptance as Kristanna
quickly added, "That bothers you?"
"It doesn't bother me. I am very conservative and should
own up to that. I'm just not sure it's something I love
about myself." Pamela stood up from the sofa and ventured
into the nearby kitchen. When she opened the oven door, the
most wonderful aroma suddenly wafted throughout the air. "I
didn't know if you would be hungry after chopping all that
firewood outside, Jeremy," Pamela said to me, glancing back
over her shoulder. "But I made nachos just in case."
Kristanna was giggling. "I'm sorry. You made NACHOS?
You do realize that's completely contrary to what I would
imagine you would make - if I did not know you any better?"
Pamela straightened and eyed her, clearly enjoying the
banter. Their banter. It was priceless. I could listen to
these two verbally go at it all day long. "And what do you
imagine I would make after Jeremy works so hard outside?"
"Chateaubriand?"
Pamela took a step into the central room and tossed the
pot holder at her, drawing a laugh from Kristanna. "I'm not
that straitlaced and uptight, Krissy."
"You're saying you don't secretly sleep with your little
_Kindle_ clutched tight to your body?" The innocent look
Kristanna gave Pamela only earned her the second pot holder.
"Surprisingly, I do not," Pamela said proudly. "And I
happen to love nachos with lots and lots of cheese. Nothing
is ever going to change that about me."
"I don't want you to change anything about yourself." At
the comment, the smile faded from Kristanna's face and their
eyes locked for a moment. "You're perfect the way you are."
Suddenly blushing like mad, Pamela pulled her eyes away
and went into action without a response, busying herself as
she secured plates, napkins and forks for us. She seemed to
go quiet like this whenever caught off-guard; it was one of
Pamela's little quirks. All of us were used to it by now.
Kristanna settled even deeper into the comfortable sofa
and watched her, clearly entranced by the way Pamela's thick,
ore-gold bright hair swished across her back as she moved,
how those denim jeans seemed to hug and amplify her awesome
curves, and the fact that the V of her neckline showed a
touch of delicate skin, but not nearly enough. Of course,
Kristanna was not the only one admiring Pamela.
"For our snacking pleasure," Pamela said to Kristanna and
yours truly, placing a tray on the coffee table full of hot
tortilla chips covered in gooey cheese, diced tomatoes, and
topped with a touch of sour cream.
Kristanna stared at the plate of amazing food. "I don't
know what I did to deserve this, but I'd like to thank the
universe and dairy farmers everywhere."
Pamela's mouth fell open. "You can start by thanking me,
the big-hearted person who made them for you. Last time I
made some, Amy said it was Nacho-Porn."
"Because they're sinful?"
"Something like that."
"Pamela," I offered in my most sincere tone.
"Yes, baby?"
"Thank you for my Nacho-Porn," I told her, smiling.
Pamela laughed and shook her head. "Oh, you're welcome,
Jeremy." She again settled on the sofa, directly next to
Kristanna, and promptly fed her a delicious nacho chip.
"These are okay to have," Pamela reminded her, patting
Kristanna's eight month baby bump at the same time. "The
cheese is pasteurized, so its safe. You just don't want to
have too many because of all the calories and sodium."
"This cheese is amazing," Kristanna managed, sinking into
its wonder. Indeed, Pamela made delicious nachos. I had
certainly never tasted any better in my life.
"It's because of the secret mixture."
Oh, Kristanna was suddenly intrigued. "You have a secret
mixture of nacho cheese?"
"I do," Pamela said glowingly. "It's one of my bigger
accomplishments in life."
Kristanna sipped her iced tea and studied Pamela over her
glass. "And are you willing to share this secret?"
Pamela shrugged. "Depends on what you're willing to give
me in return." Kristanna raised an eyebrow at her and Pamela
laughed. "I didn't mean it THAT WAY!"
"If you say so," Kristanna conceded. "How about this? I
will collaborate with Amy tomorrow and we will make your
absolute favorite - key lime pie." Pamela's brown eyes
flashed with delight, clearly accepting those terms, then
Kristanna suddenly demanded, "Now put out."
Pamela nodded. "Deal. It's a mixture of sharp cheddar,
Monterey Jack, but here's the kicker. Are you ready? It's
kind of major I'm sharing this. I've never shared it before."
"Hit me."
"Fontina. Boom." Pamela made a firework gesture with her
hand and sat back as if her work here was done.
Kristanna laughed, clearly because Pamela was adorable.
"I should write that down. And you should do that firework
thing again sometime. It could be your signature move."
"Psssssh. I have better moves than that."
Kristanna raised a playful eyebrow and Pamela held her
gaze knowingly. The energy between them was off the charts
right now. Indeed, I could just sit back and forever listen
to them. Pamela was in a really relaxed, flirtatious mood.
Their ongoing dialogue was engaging and fun. Kristanna stole
a chip from Pamela's plate, clearly enjoying the moment.
Pamela was right there with her, plucking her own chip from
the pile as the cheese clung and pulled apart in lavish
strands. Kristanna watched her closely; it was impossible
not to. The delicate way Pamela tried to make sure the
cheese made it into her mouth, coupled with the look of sheer
enjoyment once it did, was an awesome combination.
"You and your nachos are cute," Kristanna offered.
Pamela paused, another chip in midair. "We are?"
"You are. You love them."
"I do love them," Pamela nodded. "And while I have been
called cute before, no one has ever referred to my nachos as
being cute. You, my dear Krissy, are the first."
"I've proven to be the first of a lot of things for you,"
Kristanna murmured, reaching over and gently running her
thumb across the tiny dot of sour cream on Pamela's bottom
lip. She then placed that thumb in her own mouth, tasting
the sour cream. "It's starting to become a routine trend."
Pamela stared at her, seemingly struck. She had been
caught off-guard yet again - that much was clear. Kristanna
responded by simply giggling and popping another nacho.
A short time later, I tossed a few logs into the fireplace
and started a flame. Pamela was quick to critique me, though,
insisting that I use more firewood and old newspaper. She
could definitely be a straw boss at times.
"You like to be in control of things, Pammy," Kristanna
chortled. "That much, I am sure of."
"What? And you don't?"
Kristanna placed the side of her face upon Pamela's
shoulder and sighed contently. "I think we can both agree
that I'm a little more go-with-the-flow than you are."
"That's true," Pamela nodded. "You do your laundry on
whatever day of the week you want. It's barbaric."
"Yeah, well... don't tell anyone."
Pamela sat up a bit taller. "Sunday is the one and only
day to wash clothes. There is no better day."
"Of course there isn't," Kristanna mused. "And on the
seventh day, God did laundry. Everybody knows this."
Pamela giggled. "You're teasing me again."
"I have to. You know this. It's my job."
"I suppose."
As the three of us settled even deeper to our late lunch,
I could not help but to smile. The banter back and forth
was so easy and friendly. Kaden and Piper were napping, so
Kristanna and Pamela (as well as myself) had a brief reprieve
from trying to keep up with them. The rest of the children
were all being looked after by their respective mothers
throughout the house. And God, the nachos were delicious.
Pamela should open her very own nacho shop. Pamela's Nachos.
She would most assuredly rock nacho sales.
As we continued to eat, Kristanna kissed Pamela on the
cheek and declared, "I dare you to change it up."
Pamela turned and looked at her, totally confused. "Huh?
You dare me to change what up?"
"Do your laundry tomorrow - Friday - this week."
"What?" Pamela scoffed, holding back a laugh. "You mean
take a walk on the wild side with you?"
"You might like it," I teased Pamela.
"Maybe. Maybe not. I happen to enjoy my life and routine
the way it is. I hate change. Change is bad, confusing."
Kristanna stared back at Pamela in challenge. I made note
of the fact that Kristanna's eyes were one of her most striking
and prominent features. Big and the softest blue imaginable.
As tough as Pamela was, as strong willed as she likened herself
to be, there was no way she could deny those beautiful eyes.
"Fine. I'll swap my laundry day. Just this week only."
Kristanna was grinning. "Can I get that in writing? Can
I? Little Miss Pammy-Pants willing to break her routine?"
Pamela gasped. "You have to stop or I will be forced to
kill you. This is embarrassing enough as it is." Yet Pamela
was laughing, and that was all that really mattered.
"You can't kill me. You adore me."
"This is true," Pamela nodded. "It's your saving grace."
Suddenly, Kristanna seemed utterly captivated. "You know
something, Pammy? You bite your lip when you're happy."
"No, I don't," Pamela insisted, releasing her lip and
shifting her gaze elsewhere for a moment.
"Okay. But you just did, so there's that."
That earned a subtle smile from Pamela.
"And you've been going barefoot a lot more at home lately
than you have in the past," Kristanna added.
"Yeah. So?"
"It's sexy as hell," Kristanna told her with a shrug.
"You think me being barefoot is sexy?" I could easily
tell that Kristanna had flipped a switch inside of Pamela.
It happened nearly every time they were together.
"Yeah," Kristanna replied, nodding. "You without shoes is
killer. There's something laid-back and relaxed about it that
I love on you." Then Kristanna popped another nacho chip and
crunched it down as if she was in the most casual mood ever.
"Krissy?" Pamela muttered in a deep tone, seemingly ready
to seize control and go after what she wanted.
"Mmmmm-hmmmm?"
"I'm not sure what you're feeling, but I'm no longer in
the mood for nachos."
"Is that so?" Kristanna asked, a small smile tugging at
the corner of her mouth. "What ARE you in the mood for?"
"Other things," Pamela said, as her gaze dropped decidely
to Kristanna's mouth. It was not like she could have helped
it. And really, what was the point of hiding that? Because
ever since I stepped into the house moments ago, Kristanna
had done nothing but overly tease and flirt with Pamela. She
had steadily pushed Pamela from the want to the need column.
These two women were pure magic when together...
Kristanna set her glass of iced tea down upon the coffee
table. "Maybe you could show me?"
Accepting the invitation, Pamela pushed herself up on her
arms, across the small space between them on the sofa, and
hovered just short of Kristanna's mouth. Pamela held there
for a moment, clearly enjoying the anticipation. The
vibration of electricity between them had already spiralled
completely out of control.
But Kristanna did not want to wait. She pulled Pamela's
face to hers and sank into a deep-rooted, needful kiss. Both
ladies seemed to ignite with mutual passion as Pamela wrapped
her arms around Kristanna's neck as they eased backward onto
the sofa, Pamela on top, a position she rather liked.
"God, you feel so good," Kristanna managed as they shifted
into each other. Her hands moved down the sides of Pamela's
body as they continued to kiss with reckless abandon. Pamela
was flushed, pressing her breasts into Kristanna's, who
responded by cupping her ass, pulling her in firmly, eliciting
a gasp from Pamela (and a few words of worry) in the process.
"Careful, sweetie," Pamela advised her. "You're pregnant."
As if reading her mind, Kristanna allowed Pamela to ease her
onto her side so they lay face-to-face in a tangle of lips and
tongues. And then Kristanna's hands were under Pamela's shirt,
those long, delicate fingers moving up her stomach, her ribs,
to her breasts. God, what a beautiful sight.
With both hands, Kristanna palmed those massive breasts
together through the bra, pulling a moan from Pamela that she
could not hold back. Pamela's entire body actually began to
tremble as Kristanna massaged, fondled and played with her
breasts. Their lips moved in a subtle rhythm now, and Pamela
trailed kisses down Kristanna's chin to her neck where she
licked, kissed and sucked. But then, Kristanna pushed up
Pamela's bra underneath her shirt and proceeded to explore
her breasts further with her hands, free of barriers. Pamela
had incredibly sensitive breasts, and attention like this
often sent them into complete overdrive.
"I love this t-shirt," Kristanna whispered in her ear.
"But I need to take it off you now." Pamela nodded, words
not readily available. But before Kristanna had the chance,
there was a voice from behind us.
"Nachos? Do I smell nachos?"
Alison was tantalizingly young. Only 19 and in her first
year of college, Alison - Lindsay's younger sister from Ohio -
had bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair to the middle
of her back. With about a million bracelets decorating her
teenage arm as she stood at the entranceway to the central
room, Alison definitely exuded a fresh-faced, youthful vibe.
She was dressed casually in blue jeans, paired with a black
spaghetti-strap tank-top, and matching black sneakers.
Kristanna and Pamela were already sitting up on the sofa,
having made themselves appear decent, as Alison made her way
toward the coffee table. "May I?" she asked them, to which
Pamela nodded. Alison snagged three tortilla chips and popped
them into her mouth one after another. Clearly, Alison was
oblivious to the fact that she had interrupted a make-out
session between Kristanna and Pamela, which would have most
assuredly evolved into a three-some including yours truly.
Alison had no idea. She simply sat down upon the nearby love
seat and stretched her legs outward in relaxation.
"So what's going on with the three of you?" Alison asked.
Perhaps I should not go any further before I confess that
our little entourage was in the process, perhaps, of adding
yet another member to the family. That would be none other
than Alison, the tempting, forbidden fruit younger sister of
Lindsay. It should be of no secret to long-time readers of
this story that I had been wildly attracted to Alison since
first meeting her in the summer of 2013. She was practically
a replica of her big sister Lindsay in both appearance and
personality, a literal carbon copy. Just two years younger.
Everything else was the same. The long blonde hair, the
tender, innocent face and the dazzling smile, the slim, tiny
figure. How could I not be attracted to her?
Alison was of legal age now and, even better, she was
living in our mansion. Lindsay's inner family came here for
an extended visit nearly a month ago. While her mother and
other two sisters returned to the United States a few days
after Lindsay gave birth to Kaylee, Alison simply decided to
stay here. It was a mutual decision. Alison had heard too
many stories and was too intrigued by the lifestyle that her
sister led, and the happiness she felt.
Alison was exploring and dabbling in an alternative to the
straitlaced, religious upbringing that she had experienced.
After admitting to Lindsay that she had a massive crush on
me, as well as Trish, the offer was made for Alison to stay
with us in our home as long as she wanted. Maybe even move
in. The offer, of course, was made by Lindsay herself.
Alison had harbored a secret resentment and jealousy for
Lindsay once learning of the life she led with us, and the
various lovers she had. When she let those feelings finally
be known, Alison was shocked when Lindsay suggested that she
come to Norway with us and try to find a spot in the family.
This decision was made only after Lindsay presented the idea
and discussed its pros and cons with the entire family.
Alison was a good kid; she was generally well liked amongst
all of the women, with several of them having made sexual
remarks and comments about her over the years (without
Alison's knowledge) as a way to tease and pester Lindsay.
They were just as shocked as Lindsay was when Alison admitted
that she had several bisexual thoughts and fantasies, though
none of them had been acted upon as of yet.
Alison held a very deep attraction for Trish, it seemed.
How many times in the past had Alison hooked up with Trish and
Lindsay over video chat on the Internet while playing their
online games together? Trish was not afraid to show her love
and affection for Lindsay even with a web-cam trained on her
and Alison watching their every move 4,000 miles away across
the ocean. While nothing they did was graphic on camera,
Alison got a first-hand taste of how her sister was loved and
cared for, and got to know Trish in the process through
friendly and routine chatter. Actually, it would be safe to
say that those chats made Alison fall in love with Trish.
On a purely personal level, I suppose I could have Alison
whenever I wanted her. God only knows that she had gone to
every length in recent weeks to express her attraction and
desire to be with me. It would probably happen eventually,
but I had held back and not taken that gigantic leap of faith
just yet. Something about the idea - oh, I don't know - of
hooking up with my wife's sister... well, it seemed off.
But that wife, Lindsay, was fully supportive of the idea.
She wanted Alison to commit to our family and became a lover,
a wife, just like everyone else. Lindsay wanted Alison to be
able to experience the same love and happiness that she felt,
because it was, without question, the greatest feeling in the
world. Lindsay was prodding me to take that initial step,
trying to get me to agree to have sex with Alison.
But even more than that, Lindsay clearly had visions, down
the road, of wedding bells and screaming babies for Alison and
yours truly. The idea seemed so incredibly wrong to me; my
instincts were screaming at me to back off, to step away.
Yet, my resolve was fading. Much like her sister, Alison
seemed enamored with the idea of an older man, such as myself,
providing her with the guidance and stability that she seemed
to crave. With us, Alison would never have to worry about a
boyfriend cheating on her again. There would be no rumors or
gossip, no jilted ex-lovers, roaming around the campus. There
would be no lies, no deceit; we did not operate that way.
She would be taken in and loved, cared for, most likely given
anything and everything her little heart had ever desired.
My wife's sister. A forbidden attraction, indeed, but how
could I continue to deny this essence of youth and purity much
longer? Alison had openly flirted with me several times since
Lindsay hsd offered her a spot in our family. At times, it
seemed as if she was pleading with me to have sex with her.
You know, as I think about it, being married to eight women
instead of seven certainly does sound more appealing...
<<<- End of Chapter 01 ->>>
==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----==
"Island Fever 5: Paradise"
(c) 2016 JeremyDCP
- JeremyDCP@hotmail.com
Feedback is always appreciated!