[[[-IF5-P3.TXT-]]] ---------------- Island Fever 5: Family Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com M/F, F/F and a whole lot more ---------------- Chapter 03: "Blessings" ------------------------------------------- -*- Friday, March 4, 2016 -*- -*- Sandvika, Norway -*- I awoke on Friday morning to the sombering, tragic news that Pamela's 84-year-old grandmother, Genevieve, died of natural causes in her Maryland hometown on Thursday evening. There was no pain or suffering for Pamela's grandmother, thank God; she simply died, quite peacefully, in her sleep. Pamela was really upset upon hearing the news, naturally, already going through the grieving process with all of the other ladies in our family offering her whatever love and support they could to help her get through this tough time. Of course, I was right there by Pamela's side, too. Genevieve was born in 1931 and married her husband, Thomas, in 1953. She worked as a school crossing guard for 37 years and even ran a snowball stand in the wintertime in front of their home for 17 years. Customers could stop at the stand and buy a ten cent snowball from Genevieve with homemade flavors added, such as chocolate or strawberry. Genevieve sold Christmas wreaths every year to help raise money for her family, whom she loved dearly, and also delivered telephone books. She even had her very own wholesale live bait business for 50 years! Genevieve also prepared crab cakes, codfish cakes and salads in her basement from her own recipes for a seafood restaurant owned by one of her sons. Clearly, Pamela's grandmother led an active life. Genevieve raised seven children - four boys and three girls. The oldest, Tom, was Pamela's father. Her husband, Thomas, passed away in 1980 from complications to cancer. But now that Genevieve had passed on as well, she was survived by 17 grandchildren and 25 great-grandchildren. Pamela explained that Genevieve was known to everyone in her family as "Mom-Mom" and gave all of those who knew her years of laughter, advice and sayings that would always be cherished. Most importantly, Genevieve taught everyone close to her the true meaning of love and togetherness. The sad news stung me personally in more ways than one. It brought me back to the date of May 21, 2015, which was when Trish's father, John, died in a horrific automobile accident that was, in no way, his fault. Trish was devastated and still, to this day, had not gotten over her father's passing. Our entire family dropped everything and literally rushed to Canada so we could pay proper respect and attend his funeral, and of course be there for Trish when she needed us most. But now, on March 4, 2016, things were a bit different. There were two newborn babies in the family - Jackson and Kaylee, neither of whom had any business going on a long and taxing transoceanic flight, such as from Oslo to Baltimore, yet. Their little, fragile bodies simply would not be able to withstand it. In addition, Kristanna and Scarlett were both eight months pregnant. It would not be wise to confine them to a jetliner for eight or more hours, either. Everyone wanted to go to Maryland to attend the funeral, but it was just not possible. Trish and Lindsay were still recovering from giving birth and needed to be with Jackson and Kaylee, respectively. Devon and Amy, we decided as a family, needed to stay in Norway and keep an eye on Trish and Lindsay, as well as Kristanna and Scarlett. Amy also had our daughter, Dani Grace, to look after. As for Alison, she was going to stay here with her sister, Lindsay. In the end, it was mutually agreed upon that the only individuals who would actually go to the United States to attend Genevieve's funeral was Pamela and yours truly, and our 15-month old daughter, Piper. It made the most sense. We thought about leaving Piper behind, but Pamela really wanted her to be there so the rest of her family could actually meet and interact with her. On Friday morning, I got into contact with my private flight crew (Captain Mike, his wife Carolyn and her sister Barbara, and co-pilot Craig) and told them that yet again, I needed another favor on incredibly short notice. Mike sent his condolences to Pamela and assured me that he and his crew would be happy to escort us to Baltimore via our family jetliner, an _Airbus A319 ACJ_, on Saturday morning. Mike told me not to worry; he would take care of everything as it pertained to the airport and the jetliner. Pamela and I were to simply meet him at the airport in Oslo Saturday by 7:00am. I was incredibly happy that Mike was the pilot and crew lead for our family jetliner. Really, there was no better choice than him. I considered him a close, personal friend. A retired US Air Force pilot who fought in the Gulf War, Mike had always been good to our family and, much more importantly, respectful toward its unique structure. Fortunately, there was no additional snowfall overnight, nor was there any predicted in the weather forecast until next weekend. Jackson had an appointment at the chiropractor at 11:00am, but I could not leave Pamela in such an early, painful stage of bereavement as she mourned the loss of her grandmother. Devon was quick to step up, though, saying that she would escort Trish and Jackson to the chiropractor for his therapy session. Devon really was a wonderful person and a key component of our family, forever putting others and their needs well ahead of her own. She was always there for anyone who needed her. Oftentimes, I privately wondered to myself if Devon got the credit that she so richly deserved. The trip to the chiropractor turned out to be rather uneventful, with no additional news to report. It was simply a therapy session for Jackson and his neck, although the chiropractor did reiterate that Jackson would be perfectly fine - and there was nothing for any of us to worry about. Jackson, she said, was already showing marked improvement. Kristanna and I stayed with Pamela for the majority of the day, both of us holding and consoling her, allowing her to speak her mind and cycle through her grief and emotions. Unfortunately, I never got the opportunity to meet Genevieve. I had only been to Maryland once; that was when Kristanna and I visited Pamela following her hospital scare in December 2013. The following day, we convinced Pamela to come back to the island and give our marriage and lifestyle one more try. The rest, as they say, is history. Sweet, sweet history. But that was my lone experience of anything to do with Baltimore. Outside of that 28 hour time frame, I had never been there. I really knew nothing of the city or its history, what it had to offer. Yet, I was curious. Even as Pamela and I got married during August 2014 in the Bahamas, Genevieve was ill at the time, and could not attend. I had always heard what a wonderful and loving grandmother she was - Pamela would simply rave about her whenever she was discussed - and now felt deep regret that I would never have the chance to meet her face-to-face, and introduce myself. Plus, she never got to meet her great-granddaughter, Piper. But my biggest regret of all was that Pamela, my beloved wife, lost someone extremely close to her. That hurt me. A lot. * * * Piper was really fussy and upset on Saturday morning as we rolled her out of bed at the unholy time of 4:30am and made the final preparations before heading out to the airport. I said goodbye in private to Kristanna, Devon, Trish, Lindsay and Amy, but spent a little extra time with Scarlett. Pamela and I would return from our trip to Maryland on Wednesday, I told Scarlett, and then I promised her that we would make the final arrangements for our wedding ceremony, which would take place here in Norway next weekend. Saying goodbye to my children - Kaden, Dani Grace, Jackson and Kaylee - proved to be especially difficult. I could not bear the thought of being away from them until Wednesday! But, this trip - and the time away from them - was necessary. I had to go to Maryland and be with Pamela for the funeral. Pamela and I, along with Piper, met up with our flight crew at Gardermoen Airport in Oslo at 6:35am. Each of them gave Pamela a friendly hug and expressed their deepest condolences. Carolyn even went as far as to place a kiss on my wife's cheek. I helped Mike and Craig load our luggage onto the airplane. They were my employees and it was their job to do so, but I thought of them as friends - especially Mike. I wanted to chip in and lend a helping hand wherever I could. Shortly after our flight was in the air and at its normal cruising altitude, Pamela actually donned a pair of sunglasses as she sat by and watched Piper and I play with her stuffed animals. There was absolutely no need for sunglasses on the plane, though, so I asked Pamela why she had put them on. "I don't want Piper to see me crying," was her timid response. My heart sank in my chest, of course, and after some added dialogue, Pamela insisted that I stay out here in the play area with Piper. She was going to the main bedroom to lay down. Our private jet, dubbed by Lindsay and a few others as a _flying hotel_, was custom-built down to every square inch. It provided luxury at its finest and had all of the amenities that a five-star hotel did. Not only could Pamela lay down and enjoy a nap in the bedroom, but she could take a shower in the adjacent washroom as well. Or watch television. Or listen to music, even hop on the Internet, among other things. Carolyn wheeled in a hot, steaming cart full of breakfast goodness for us to enjoy, but I told her not to disturb Pamela in the bedroom; simply let her be, as she was probably asleep. Piper literally tore into two pieces of french toast, while I salivated over fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage patties and four strips of bacon. Not surprisingly, Piper stole bits and pieces of my food as well. Once we were finished with our meal, I noticed that Piper began to get really tired. I was actually shocked that she had lasted this long; her normal sleeping routine was from 9:00pm to 8:00am overnight, with two additional naps in the daytime totaling three hours. But we had to wake her up at 4:30am this morning to prepare for the airline flight, thus sending her sleep schedule into total and complete disarray. Piper was suddenly yawning and rubbing her eyes. When she bumped into the wall twice and fell over both times, I knew that it was time for an extended nap. I took her to the master bedroom and found Pamela lying down and relaxing, still with her sunglasses on. I was unsure if Pamela was actually sleeping or not, but that question was suddenly answered when she sat up slightly and extended both arms. "Bring my little Piper to me," she requested. When I made the exchange, Piper let out a timid "Momma" and wrapped both arms around her mother's neck. Pamela immediately reclined back, kissing the crown of Piper's head in the process. "Oh hi there, sweet P. Hiiiii! You want to nap with Mommy?" "Yeah," Piper simply responded (with one of the five words in her vocabulary), before starting to curiously fiddle with Pamela's sunglasses. I made a motion to stop her but it was too late; Pamela actually took the sunglasses off herself, then sighed while embracing Piper close to her. "I love you, Piper," Pamela proclaimed. "You have no idea just how important you are to me, do you?" I could tell that Pamela was still quite upset. She was sniffling, her face was red and puffy, and her eyes actually seemed sort of glassy. She clearly had another hard cry in here after leaving us earlier. Yet Pamela seemed to hold Piper, cherish her, with more conviction than usual, and soon new tears began to flow. I sat down next to them upon the bed and grasped Pamela's hand. "You want something to eat? Piper and I just had breakfast, but I figured you were sleeping so I told Carolyn not to disturb you. I'm sure she and Barbara would not mind fixing you something else, so it's fresh." "I'm fine," Pamela frowned, before kissing Piper's head once again. "Go to sleep, honey. Mommy is going to take a nap with you!" She then glanced up at me. "Mommy would also really like it if Daddy laid down and cuddled with us, too." Oh, dear. How could I refuse that? Pamela continued to hold Piper close to her as I settled down upon the bed and nuzzled myself beside them. I grasped Pamela's free hand with my right and kissed it, then checked the time. We were only 75 minutes into what would ultimately be an eight hour flight. Still holding Pamela's hand, I decided that I was going to take a nap as well. Why not? The next thing I remember was being jarred awake by the sensation of something crawling on my lower legs and feet. It was actually the little firecracker otherwise known as Piper, who seemed refreshed and awake now, as she giggled while trying to find refuge from her mother. Pamela was up and about, following Piper around with a funny, goofy expression upon her face. Oh, she was playing with her. I was curious as to exactly how long I had been sleeping... "Piper!" Pamela snapped with a massive, exaggerated grin. She then let out an even more ridiculous sigh and added, "I see CHOCOLATE on your face! I see chocolate on your face! Did you snatch MY cookie?" Piper did not respond; she just sat there in bed, wide-eyed, with a look that aptly screamed _guilty as charged_. Laughing herself, Pamela placed both hands upon her hips and focused on me. "I went outside the bedroom for just a minute, so I could find the channel chart for the television, maybe pull up some cartoons for Piper. But when I came back, the cookie that Carolyn brought me was gone. Piper SNATCHED my cookie, even though she already had one of her own!" "Ohhhhh!" I chuckled at Piper. "You stole Mommy's cookie?" Piper slid off of the bed and rumbled about the room, but try as she might, she could not shake her mother's pursuit. This allowed me the opportunity to check my wristwatch. I had been sleeping, apparently, for four hours. Wow. "I'm gonna get you!" Pamela chirped at our daughter, who giggled while trying to find a hiding place. "Gonna GET you! You're the COOKIE MONSTER, aren't you? Aren't you, Piper? You STOLE my cookie, and ate it all!" It warmed my heart to watch my wife and daughter play like this, but something here gave me even greater satisfaction. Pamela seemed in much better and brighter spirits than she was earlier this morning. She was energized, keeping Piper alert and engaged as well. We still had a long way to go before the jetliner touched down in Baltimore. "What did you do for Daddy, Piper, when you woke up a little while ago?" Pamela asked, sweeping the toddler up into her arms. "What did you do for Daddy when you woke up from your nap?" Piper pointed toward something on the bed, though I had no idea what. "Want me to tell Daddy, Piper?" "Yeah." "Oh, it was so cute," Pamela began, now looking at me. "You were lying there sleeping, Jeremy. Piper looks over at you, then takes her favorite blanket - the one with the pink teddy bear on it - and flips it over your chest. OHHHHH, that was so awesome! I wish I had my phone out, and that I recorded her doing it. It almost melted my heart!" Pamela splayed Piper's face with a barrage of kisses. "You didn't want Daddy to be cold, didn't you? Such a good girl!" "You gave me your baby blanket?" I smiled at Piper, who offered a shy nod of the head as an answer. "Oh, honey... that was so sweet of you! You know what? I really needed it, too. I was feeling SO COLD! But when you put your blanket on me, I suddenly felt all warm, and cozy." "All warm!" Pamela chirped at her. "And cozy!" I grinned at my wife. "You're feeling better. Good." "Trying to stay positive," she informed me. "No need to act all sad and depressed around our baby girl. The absolute last thing I want is to bring her down, too." Pamela again bombarded Piper with kisses. "Oh, you're so pretty!" Piper managed to wiggle free of Pamela's embrace and then scurry off toward the flat-panel television monitor that was built into the wall. She punched at its buttons, but could not get it to turn on. Sensing an opening, I promptly grabbed Pamela's right arm and began kissing her wrist. A mere second later, my mouth trailed a path up to her neck, and soon I had Pamela giggling and begging for mercy as I pinned her beneath me upon the bed and literally assaulted her neck. "Jeremy! AHHHHH! AHHHHH!" Pamela became even more hysterical as I used both hands to tickle her stomach while continuing to focus on her neck with my lips. "JER... STOP IT! AHHHHH! JEREMY!" "I'm going to slay you with my love!" I teased her. "JEREMY!" "Tickle fight!" I roared. "Tickle fight! Tickle fight!" But I let up, and allowed Pamela to squirm her way out from underneath me upon the bed. She quickly moved away and stood up on the opposite side of the room. "Don't do that!" Pamela giggled wildly. "That's something Krissy would do to me! I expect better out of you, Jeremy! That WASN'T funny!" "But you were laughing, though..." "No, I wasn't!" she chuckled. Hmmmmm. The funeral and everything surrounding it would provide plenty of sorrowful moments and tears. There was no doubt about that. But the whole trip certainly did not have to be that way. I had four days to spend with Pamela and Piper, where I could devote every waking moment, all of my energy, to them. Secretly, I began to wonder if that was the reason why Kristanna insisted that Devon and Amy stay home in Norway instead of accompanying us to Maryland. Kristanna had been campaigning for Pamela and I to have a couple of days alone together for the better part of the last three months. Devon and Amy staying behind was more Kristanna's idea than anyone else's, although we all mutually agreed upon it. Regardless, the trip did not have to be all doom and gloom. The past couple of minutes were proof of that. We would attend the funeral and make all of the family visits, but I also wanted to have fun with my wife and daughter over the next four days. I wanted Pamela to show me around Baltimore; a city I knew very little about. I wanted her to show me the neighborhood where she grew up, the schools she went to. I wanted to look at old family photo albums with her and watch embarrassing home movies from when she was a child. I wanted, very simply, to have fun. * * * Our family jetliner touched down, safe and sound, at Baltimore/Washington International Airport in Anne Arundel County, Maryland, at 9:18am local time on Saturday morning. Having gained six hours because of different time zones, neither Pamela nor myself did not seem to have any symptoms of jet-lag yet. Piper seemed to be quite curious and happy. I certainly hoped it stayed that way. I had toughened up in recent times, though, and was a much more seasoned traveler than I used to be. I rarely experienced jet-lag any more. One of the many perks of flying private was that less than ten minutes after landing, Pamela, Piper and I were already in the rental car and cruising northbound on Maryland Route 170 toward downtown Baltimore. The rental car, a metallic silver 2016 _Lexus LS 460_ sedan, was waiting for us and our luggage was already loaded into it even before we reached the FBO (Fixed Base of Operation, a small facility at most airports which was exclusive to private travelers). As I have stated numerous times in the past, Captain Mike and his crew were top-notch. They removed all the hassle and worry from travel, and got us in and out of the airport in the blink of an eye. While preparing for our little excursion on Friday, I asked Pamela to pick a hotel in Maryland for us to stay at. It did not have to be glitzy or glamorous, I told her, or overly expensive... just a nice place where the three of us could enjoy a couple of days away from the comforts of home. And without hesitation, Pamela chose _The Inn at Henderson's Wharf_, saying everyone she had even known in the area raved about the hotel, how wonderful it was, although she had never been there herself. I called the hotel on Friday afternoon and was very fortunate that they had a room available for us. Located in the Fells Point district of downtown Baltimore, _The Inn at Henderson's Wharf_ was at the end of a boardwalk which overlooked the Patapsco River and a busy marina. It was within walking distance of shops, taverns, restaurants and even a host of museums and historical landmarks. The friendly staff, knowing we had flown here from Norway and had a toddler along for the trip, allowed us to check in early at 10:10am and go straight to our room. Piper was suddenly tired yet again, so we put her down for a nap fairly quickly while using the time to unpack our suitcases and get situated. I took a quick shower, then Pamela did the same. We would have preferred to take one together, of course, but it was best that one of us stay out and keep an eye on Piper even as she napped. While Pamela was busy in the shower, I set up the laptop computer and established a video chat connection with the family back in Norway. All seven of the ladies there, including Alison, sat on or around the sofa with Kaden, Dani Grace, Jackson and Kaylee mixed in, and each of my wives (and one fiancee) took turns saying how much they loved me, and missed me. The scene and its imagery, with everyone together and expressing their feelings, had my heart fluttering. When Pamela emerged from the adjacent washroom, the focus naturally shifted to her and it was equally touching. "Sipping my morning coffee just wasn't the same earlier without you there to talk to and hold my hand," Amy informed Pamela. "I felt really lonely." "Kaden keeps looking for Aunt Pammy and Piper, so he can play with them," Kristanna mused. "Pamela!" she shot back with a grin, sitting next to me. "Who is going to give me my foot massage tonight since you're not here?" Scarlett frowned at Pamela. "Oh, I'll do it, honey," Devon told her. Scarlett was still frowning. "It won't be the same without Pamela. Pamela gives the BEST foot massages!" Naturally, Lindsay was sitting in Trish's lap. "Don't you wear Jeremy out while you got him to yourself for four whole days!" Lindsay chided Pamela. "We're all going to want a piece of him - and YOU - come Wednesday evening." "You'll still have awhile to wait before you can do anything of the sort," Trish reminded Lindsay, referencing doctor's orders that she abstain from any sexual relations until a full six weeks had passed since she had given birth. "Ugggggh!" Lindsay growled, upset. "Do you know how hard it is for me, knowing I can't have sex for such a long time?" "You could barely go a whole hour without it in the past," Kristanna teased her. "Gotta wait another month, sweets." "I don't think you have to worry about me wearing Jeremy out," Pamela told Lindsay. "This isn't that kind of trip. With Piper here, I doubt there will be time for any of that. Plus, I will be so focused on my family, and the funeral. I... I still cannot believe that Mom-Mom is... dead." "We love you, Pamela," Kristanna swooned once our chat was nearing its conclusion. "We love you both! Stay warm and be careful. Don't do anything crazy over there, now!" We arrived in [City Name], Pamela's former hometown, at the house where her parents, Tom and Carol, lived promptly on time at 3:00pm. There were several cars in the driveway and it was quite a happy reunion as Pamela was greeted by her mother and father, followed by her two sisters, Paula and Candice. Piper, who had met her grandparents on three separate occasions in the past while they visited us in Norway, seemed to warm up to Carol rather quickly. I also shared a good, long embrace with Pamela's younger sister, Candice. Candice, of course, was the one who informed me back in December 2013 that Pamela was sick and in the hospital. If not for Candice, I would have never even known. And without her help facilitating everything, from talking me into flying here overnight (with Kristanna) to be by Pamela's side, and then helping convince Pamela to offer our way of life one more try, my situation would be completely different and much less fulfilled today (Pamela, quite simply, would not be a part of it). I owed a lot to Candice and was forever grateful toward her. Paula, the older sister at 37, had three daughters of her own - Corrie (age 10), Kendall (6) and Mikhaela (3) - with her husband of 14 years, Jeff. Corrie was quick to take Piper by the hand and volunteer to show her the room full of toys that Grandma and Grandpa had in their home. This allowed us adults some time to kick back and reminisce about Genevieve and discuss the upcoming funeral on Tuesday at noon. I had never met Genevieve, obviously, but I got the sense that everyone simply adored her. Indeed, they all referred to her "Mom-Mom". Candice and her fiance, Michael, shared a story that just last week, Genevieve was saying how overjoyed she was that _little Pamela_ had finally found happiness in life, and how proud she was of her for being such a wonderful parent while holding a picture of her and Piper together. Tom informed us that at 5:00pm, we were all going to his brother's seafood restaurant for dinner. Feeling quite hungry by this point and being the seafood connoisseur that I am, this was excellent news to me. I always _tore_ into seafood. For an appetizer, I munched on authentic Maryland style crab cakes (the best in the world), as well as macaroni and cheese with baked crab and bread crumbs mixed in. I also had a seafood cobb salad consisting of jumbo lump crab meat and shrimp mixed with iceberg spinach, smoked bacon, bleu cheese, avocado and tomato, with vinaigrette dressing. My main course consisted of a 20 ounce grilled Caribbean lobster tail with mashed red potatoes and fresh green beans on the side. It was absolutely delicious! Pamela was poking fun at me throughout the dinner, saying I actually wanted to eat everything on the menu. "His stomach is limitless when it comes to seafood," she told the others, getting a laugh out of them in the process. We stayed at the restaurant and continued to talk until 8:00pm. Piper, whose sleep schedule was all out of whack (it was 2:00am back home in Norway) was already out like a light in her stroller as we said our goodbyes to everyone, but promised to meet up again for dinner at Tom and Carol's house tomorrow (Sunday) evening at 6:00pm. Then, it was back to the hotel. Despite it being the middle of the night for them, Trish and Lindsay were awake and we spoke with them over video chat for a good 30 minutes. Trish seemed really happy; she said Jackson was doing so much better with his neck and shoulder difficulties, and now truly believed that the chiropractor would soon cure him completely. That was music to my ears. She also said that his next therapy session was put off until Thursday, strictly so I could be there with him. After bidding a good night to Trish and Lindsay, Pamela and I curled up in bed and must have shared loving hugs and kisses for at least 15 minutes. We made no sure not to go beyond that, though, since Piper was sleeping in the portable crib no further than two feet from the bed. When I realized a short time later that Pamela was out as well, I planted a kiss on her forehead and sighed, then closed my eyes. We still had a funeral to attend, unfortunately, but otherwise this was going to be a good trip. I could feel it. * * * Piper actually did not wake up on Sunday morning until 10:00am. By that time, Pamela and i were all set to go, having showered and changed. We had dinner at her parents' house later tonight, yes, but planned on taking a whirlwind sightseeing tour of Baltimore beforehand. After getting Piper ready, we caught the tail end of the complimentary breakfast just outside the lobby in the hotel. Out first destination, located just a few minutes away, was Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Being early in March, the baseball venue was deserted, but it was still neat to drive by and see the famous, majestic structure. Pamela insisted that our next stop on the itinerary had to be Fort McHenry National Monument, also within very close proximity to the hotel. Perhaps best known for its role in the War of 1812, this was where, in Baltimore Harbor, the brave soldiers of the United States military fended off an attack by the British Navy. The battle and ensuing victory prompted Francis Scott Key to write _The Star-Spangled Banner_, which eventually became the national anthem for the United States. From the opening movie that ended with the curtains opening to the flag flying overhead while _The Star-Spangled Banner_ was playing, to the actual rooms and fields where battles were fought, Fort McHenry was a truly moving, patriotic visit. The history lesson itself was astonishing; those brave soldiers, our forefathers, engaged in a 25 hour battle with the British. 204 years later, the fort still stands proud and tall today. I gave Pamela free rein to pick and choose wherever we went on our sightseeing adventure. Not only did Pamela know this area like the back of her hand, having lived here for over 30 years, but she was also the driver! First it was the baseball stadium because I was such a sports fan, but later it was the George Peabody Library to satiate Pamela's love of books and reading. Dating back to 1857, the George Peabody Library was the research center for Johns Hopkins University in the 19th century. Today, it is still a fully functional library, and widely considered one of the most beautiful structures in the world. Architecturally, it looked like a cathedral. Five floors with wrought iron gates and ceilings encircled the entire space. There were books everywhere. Pamela made the comment that reading a book that was written in the 1800's in a place that looked like it was magical library from a _Harry Potter_ film was as close as we would ever get to time travel. Next on the sightseeing tour was the _USS Constellation_, a United States Navy vessel that held the distinction of being the only intact ship which remained from the Civil War era. Commissioned in 1855, the _Constellation_ spent the majority of the Civil War fending off confederate cruisers and pirates at sea. The ship also saw duty in World War I and World War II, and was later decommissioned in 1955. After a renovation project that ended in 1999, _Constellation_ is now a tourist attraction and historical landmark. Walking throughout the vessel was quite an experience. The living quarters were quite cramped and the kitchen area could be described as rudimentary at best; I certainly could not have survived long as a sailor on this ship. There were several employees in period uniform, playing fife and drum (naval) music and offering interactive demonstrations. Piper really seemed to enjoy the inspirational music. With the time quickly approaching 4:00pm, and dinner set for 6:00pm, we agreed to make our way toward [City Name] to meet up with Pamela's family. But first, Pamela drove us to the west side of Baltimore and surprised me by pulling into the parking lot of _Gentleman's Gold Club_, Dumbfounded, I stared back at her. Why were we at a strip club? "This is where I worked for 12 years," Pamela offered after a very deep and taxing breath. "You wanted to learn about my past and where I grew up, where I lived, what I used to do on this trip, Jeremy. This club was nearly the death of me." "Let's get out of here," I simply stated, upset that Pamela was willing to revisit this stage of her life - even for a few seconds. Pamela was certainly not an exotic dancer any longer, nor would she ever be again. Our entire family had worked so hard over the past two-plus years to distance Pamela from the life and career that she once had. Why in the world did she choose to come back to this horrific place? "I thought you may like seeing it, Jeremy!" Pamela snapped at me once we were back on the road, angry at my reaction. "I told you all about that club in the past and how it shaped me, affected me, as a person. I thought you may like to see it!" "Well, I didn't." The subsequent drive to [City Name] consisted entirely of eerie, strained silence. Piper was napping in the backseat and, thanks to our little argument, Pamela and I did not say another word to each other for 20 minutes. I still could not find any benefit of her showing me that damn strip club. "This is the house where I grew up," Pamela said, putting forth a peace offering, as we stopped alongside a residence in a neighborhood full of families and children. The home, three stories in size, had a huge, sprawling yard and a beautiful garden. "My parents lived here from 1980 to 2005. Once Candice graduated from high school in 2004 and moved into my condo with me, Mom and Dad decided to sell this house and buy their current one, much smaller and less maintenance." "You see that tree there?" Pamela asked, motioning toward a huge oakwood. "I used to climb it when I was little, then get onto the roof of the house. I always felt wobbly and scared up there, but I climbed anyway. Not too smart, huh? One day, the next-door neighbor saw me and Paula up there when he drove by. He got out of his car and knocked on the front door, and told Mom what Paula and I were up to. We were in trouble... especially once Dad got home from work!" "I remember the orange and gold diamond-patterned carpet in the kitchen, and how I loved playing hopscotch on them. I also remember, very vividly, Candice lying on that very same carpet on Christmas Day when she was three years old, throwing a temper tantrum because Dad would not allow her to open any presents until she finished her oatmeal." Pamela held back a laugh, but still smiled. "Candice HATED oatmeal." As Pamela told those and other stories, I held and kissed her hand and I... enjoyed listening to the memories. Those ten minutes, in front of her childhood home, were magical to me. It was a side of my wife that I had never seen before. We took a spin by her elementary, middle and high schools, then the _McDonald's_ fast-food restaurant where Pamela worked as a 17- and 18-year-old student as (in her own words) "the french fry girl". Thus, one of the many reasons why Pamela claims that she will never eat another french fry in her life. We arrived at her parents' home at 5:40pm and again found that the whole gang was there. In addition to Tom and Carol, Paula and her husband (Jeff) were present, plus their three daughters (Corrie, Kendall and Mikhaela), as well as Candice and her fiance, Michael. Piper was in a mood, having just woken up, but her spirits seemed to brighten rather quickly once Corrie took her off to play elsewhere in the house. After enjoying a dinner consisting of Angus filet mignon steak and a baked potato, Pamela and I stayed and chatted with her family until 11:00pm. Tomorrow, Tom had plans with his brothers and sisters before the funeral took place in two days, but Carol and the two sisters were free. Pamela agreed to go out and spend the bulk of day with them, while I would stay here (in her parents' house) and keep an eye on Piper. When was the last time Pamela actually got to go and spend the entire day out with her mother and two sisters? I would be perfectly content staying behind. While not busy with Piper, I could hook up via _Skype_ with the ladies from Norway and have video chats with them. Staying in touch with them by way of video chat was _so much_ better than a telephone. And that was exactly what happened. Pamela ventured out with Carol, Paula and Candice at noon on Monday, and I was left behind with Piper. While she entertained herself with toy vacuums and lawn mowers, cell phones, plastic blocks and doll houses, I sat in the middle of it all with my laptop in front of me, and Kristanna on the other end of the video relay. While Piper interrupted our discussion several times and I had to tend to her, at one point for nearly five minutes, I told Kristanna all about our trip thus far. Kristanna got all teary-eyed, wishing she was here with us, when I told her about the way Pamela spoke and acted when sharing her memories while in front of her childhood home last night. "I bet you Pamela still wishes that house belonged to her family," Kristanna said to me through a grainy point in the connection. "Stuff like that... that's why I was so happy, Jeremy, when you agreed to live here on my parents' farm. I have SO MANY memories here from when I grew up, and all of them are so incredibly special and precious to me. And now, we have the opportunity to create all new memories here." "I know, Krissy," I assured her. "I know." "Doughnuts are here!" I heard Devon call out across the laptop's headset. "Doughnuts are here! Oh, and I got you your bagels too, Krissy." When she came into view upon the monitor, Devon froze and eyed me. "Oh, hi Jeremy." "Hi sweetheart," I returned. "You go out and get food?" Devon nodded. "Doughnuts for everyone... except Krissy, because she is barbaric and prefers bagels." Kristanna held up a finger. "I love doughnuts too. Always have, always will." "But you prefer bagels, which is insane." "I do favor the bagel in a full-on, baked-goods war." Devon held a hand out in the air in punctuation. "Can you believe her, Jeremy?" "Not really." "She is utterly outrageous." "Wedding plans are exhausting," came Scarlett's voice. "Especially when you are eight months pregnant and big as a water balloon, and almost ready to burst." I heard Scarlett let out an agitated sigh before she added, "Did you bring home some orange juice from the store, Devon?" "I sure did," she responded. "I bought pulp and no pulp. I like to cover the bases and keep everyone happy." "Such a sweetheart!" Scarlett gushed. "Come over here, Scarlett," Kristanna instructed her. "I have Jeremy on web-cam. Come say hello to him." "Hi, baby!" Scarlett swooned at me seconds later, her angelic face and smile now gracing my computer monitor. "Hey there, wife-to-be," I nodded back at her. "How is Pamela holding up? Piper doing okay?" "We're fine," I simply answered. Kristanna reached into the goodie bag and pulled out a sourdough bagel. She took a quick bite and shot up a hand in victory, and in an adorable response, Devon stole a kiss. I simply sat back and marvelled at their amazing chemistry. As Devon prepared plates and drinks, Scarlett regaled Kristanna and yours truly with war stories from the last minute wedding-planning trenches. Scarlett told us about her latest discussion with the photographer, wedding cake tastings, a meeting with the videographer and colors for flowers. Amy was helping her out a lot this week. "I just don't know what I'm going to do if it snows," Scarlett fretted. "I have all these images of a frosty, chilly version of myself pouting in all of the photos, and no one likes a pouty bride. I don't." Kristanna took Scarlett's hand and kissed the back of it. "If it snows," she said calmly, "you and Jeremy will have the best possible time in that snow. It will be the most fun any two people have ever had at a snowy wedding, and you will tell the story of that snowy, romantic wedding to your kids - OUR KIDS - one day in the future, and they will love it." Devon pointed at Kristanna. "Always the positive one." Scarlett took a moment to ponder and contemplate things. "I'm suddenly not worried about snow anymore. How do you ALWAYS do that, Krissy? And Amy and I have a ton of work to do, so I better get going. Now." "That's code for sex," Kristanna whispered at me, grinning, as Scarlett grabbed her doughnuts and a glass of orange juice, and promptly exited the kitchen. "Do you see her little face?" Lindsay's 19-year-old sister, Alison, said as she strolled into the kitchen with her infant niece, Kaylee, in her arms. "I'd have no choice but to give Kaylee anything she wants. Five toys? Fine. Ten? Okay." Alison tore her gaze away from Kaylee long enough to notice that Kristanna had me on the monitor. "Hi Jeremy." The image of blonde, teen-aged perfection, Alison was the ultimate forbidden fruit to me. Just the sight of her carrying around and comforting a baby sent shivers straight down my spine. After all, Lindsay did promise Alison that one day, I would get her pregnant. Yet they were sisters! "Hi Alison," I returned, gulping my throat in the process. I had some impure thoughts going through my mind right now... "Linny!" Piper chirped, about ten feet away from me, pointing a tiny finger at the computer monitor and bouncing about. Piper got the biggest, healthiest smile upon her face and repeated several times in succession, "Linny! Linny!" When I turned the web-cam toward Piper, Kristanna smiled brightly at her. "Honey! That's not Aunt Lindsay; that is Aunt Alison." She offered the toddler a sympathetic look. "Oh, I know they look a lot alike - almost identical. But that is Alison - Ali. Can you say that for me? Ali? Say Ali." "Linny!" Piper squealed, still gesturing toward her. "You're a silly girl!" Kristanna giggled at her. "But you are also so CUTE AND CUDDLY!" Indeed, Lindsay and Alison were nearly replicas of each other. This was not the first time Piper had confused them in the past couple of weeks, nor would it be the last. Kaden, in fact, had made the same mistake a time or two. Lindsay was, without question, the ultimate aphrodisiac to me. She always had been. I never thought that I would meet anyone else who could push the type of buttons within me quite the way that Lindsay did. Then, along came her younger sister, Alison. For God's sake, being with them together in a three-some would be akin to having two Lindsays at once! Even my oldest daughter and son had difficulty telling them apart. How in the hell could I possibly resist that temptation? Even further, _no one_ in the family wanted me to resist it! Every single one of these ladies wanted Alison as an equal and loving partner in our lives. When Piper returned to her toys, Kristanna motioned for Alison to come over to her. "Alison volunteered to watch Kaylee tonight so Lindsay could take a much-deserved nap," she told me. When Alison walked over to her, Kristanna took her hand and threaded their fingers together lovingly. "Ali is such a good sister." Kristanna giggled and added, "I say we keep her. How about you, Jeremy?" I was still focused on their hands. It was quite a sight. I stared at them, basking in the warmth the image inspired. Kristanna had such a huge heart and wanted what was best for our family. Would Alison really fit in with us? "Alison is so good with Kaylee!" Kristanna observed, glancing at them both. "And Kaylee seems to love her." Devon tilted her head from side to side in consideration as she broke a doughnut in half and offered it to Alison. They made an exchange - the doughnut for Kaylee. Devon took Kaylee into her arms and rocked her gently. "We also have bagels," Kristanna smirked, winking, as she eyed Alison munching a healthy bite from her doughnut. But Devon took the other half of the doughnut and pressed it upon Kristanna's face, then gently smashed and grinded it all around. Kristanna yelped and squealed in shock, then stood up with a massive grin and seemed prime to retaliate. But Devon had the ultimate _get out of jail free card_ at her disposal, and she was not afraid to use it. "You're not touching me as long as I have Kaylee!" Devon snickered at her, their playfulness now off the charts. She swiped Kristanna's mouth with a single fingertip and licked at the powdered sugar from the doughnut with her tongue. Devon giggled yet again, then held Kaylee out before her and did a little dance and pirouette, taunting Kristanna. "Oh, you're going to get it," she warned Devon, smiling, now clearing the excess from her face with a pile of tissues. "You're going to get it big time! No one smashes me in the face with a doughnut and gets away with it!" Yet more than anything, I found myself staring at Alison. "You must learn to take responsibility - just like your sister did - for what your beauty does to me," I envisioned myself saying to Alison within my mind's eye, tucked away in a lucid dream in some distant place. "Mouth open now." In the mental reverie, in my fantasy, Alison complied and I slipped my erection inside her velvety mouth with a little groan at the exquisite pleasure only a pretty girl's mouth could afford. I took hold of the headboard and began to thrust, not terribly hard but quite deep, looking down all the while at the mesmerizing sight of my hard shaft moving in-and-out of her sweet, rosy lips. Hmmmmm, a second Lindsay. "Hold my balls, Alison," I instructed her, my mind now on overdrive with the vivid fantasy. "Gently, in your hands." With a whimper as she struggled to take my cock, little Alison obeyed, stretching out her fingers to grasp my scrotum. I let out a soft sound of utter contentment as the sensations all but enveloped me; my cock, my balls, my eyes, all of my working muscles as I thumped that indelible, tiny mouth. "You okay, Jeremy?" I heard Kristanna ask, which snapped me out of my warped mental musings and back into reality. I shook my head quite vigorously, then offered her my most generous and innocent smile. "You seemed lost for a minute." "I'm fine, Krissy," I assured her. "Just fine." But I was anything but. Hours later, Pamela arrived home and strolled in with four full shopping bags on her arms. "Looks like someone has been a busy little gal," was my comment, as Pamela sneered at me. "She spent all your money, Jeremy," Candice joked, laughing. "You're broke now. Deal with it." Shortly thereafter, Tom returned home as well, and then Jeff and Michael showed up with the three kids. It was off to the funeral home for the two hour visitation; we got there an hour early, and left an hour late. Pamela and her inner family spoke to and thanked everyone who stopped by to offer words of condolences and pay their respects to Genevieve. I also stood by the casket and had a private moment with "Mom-Mom" myself, telling her that I loved Pamela, and also thanking her for helping to mold my wife into the wonderful woman that she is today. I promised Genevieve that no matter what, I would always cherish her granddaughter, and protect her. Pamela meant everything to me, I assured Genevieve, and it was both an honor and privilege to call her my wife. After the visitation, it was getting late, and our group decided on dinner at _The Capital Grille_, which just so happened to be within walking distance from the hotel in downtown Baltimore that I was staying at with Pamela and Piper. Of course, I insisted on picking up the tab for everyone. It was the least I could do. Being the food connoisseur that I am, I ordered a jumbo lump crab cocktail as an appetizer along with a hearty spinach salad covered with warm bacon dressing. But I went a vastly different route with the main course, enjoying a wild mushroom burger topped with havarti cheese and roasted in aged balsamic. Pamela had a ribeye steak sandwich with caramelized onions and havarti, served on a grilled French loaf. It looked delicious! Everyone agreed to meet up outside the funeral home tomorrow morning at 9:00am, although the service itself would not start until noon. Of course, 48 hours from now, Pamela, Piper and yours truly would be back home in Norway. I watched a little bit of television back at the hotel, including the local news, but was really tired. Tomorrow, with the funeral, was not going to be easy. I was not looking forward to it at all. Pamela was nestled up close beside me, cuddling with Piper, when I fell asleep around 11:20pm. * * * I was lulled out of a peaceful slumber in the wee hours of the morning, at 12:57am, on Tuesday. It took me a moment or two to collect my bearings, being in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar location (the hotel). Soon, though, I came to realize that the reason I was so unceremoniously awakened was because there was some very strange and peculiar noises emanating from the nearby washroom. I glanced to my right and noticed that Pamela was not in bed with me, where she should be, but Piper was fast asleep in her portable crib. A freight train could come right through the hotel, and the noise would not wake this girl. Piper was a heavy sleeper. I listened closer and heard little moans and yelps coming from the washroom. Pamela had to be in there, right? The noises sounded purely sexual in nature. I then heard voices, followed by some intense giggling. Then, the unmistakable sound of Kristanna's laugh. What was going on in there? Surely, Kristanna had not flown all the way here. Had she? "Take that bra off, baby," came Devon's voice as I stood up and inched closer toward the washroom door. My eyes about to burst now due to curiosity and utter intrigue, I flung open the door and was actually quite surprised at what I saw. Pamela seemed startled, even a bit ashamed, as she looked at me and took a step back. She was wearing a turquoise bra with black trim that had string ties behind both her neck and back. She also wore a sexy garter belt and G-string, their colors turquoise as well, with dark, thigh-high stockings attached. A quintessential centerfold-type, Pamela was blessed with striking good looks and smashing, yet all-natural 38d-24-37 measurements, and the lingerie two-piece set did a magnificent job of showcasing her assets. Her hair was a tumble of star flame-gold, her eyes fulgent, and chestnut-brown. If I did not know any better, it seemed as if my darling wife was prepared for a steamy, late-night secret rendezvous. "Oh, look," came Scarlett's voice from behind me. "It's Jeremy! Hi, Jeremy!" Unsure what to make of all of this, I turned and noticed that my computer laptop was perched upon the sink countertop here in the washroom. Its web-cam was pointed in Pamela's general direction, and on the screen I saw Kristanna, Devon, Amy and Scarlett all huddled together and apparently watching us, each of them in various stages of undress. Devon, in fact, was already topless, and was getting her breasts squeezed and caressed by Kristanna and Amy from either side. Pamela frowned and seemed even more embarrassed when I turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, Jeremy. They made me. I was talking with Krissy because I couldn't sleep. One thing led to another, and soon she wanted to have video sex chat with me over _Skype_." Did Pamela just say... video sex chat? Holy hell! "That's when Devon, Amy and Scarlett showed up. They had me put on lingerie for them." "Like you need to explain yourself to Jeremy!" Amy giggled. "I still think you should take that bra off, Pamela," Devon swooned. "I took mine off. Now it's your turn. C'mon, I want to see those titties! We all do!" Pamela shook her head and even tried to cover up with a towel. "I don't think this is such a good idea anymore..." "Those titties look plump and juicy enough for me to stick my face between them for an entire week!" Devon proclaimed. "I'd love to have my hands all over your body right now," Scarlett offered. "Oh God, Pamela... you look so incredibly hot in that little bra and G-string. Lift up a leg, so I can see your stockings better. Oh wow... beautiful, baby. I definitely want you to model that for us when you get home!" "I have the urge to lick her pussy!" Kristanna squealed. "Hmmmmm... I would make you cum so hard, Pamela, if I were there with you right now. I'd push you up against the wall and lick that little pussy until you exploded!" "I'd rock her fucking world," Devon deadpanned. "Take that towel away from your body!" Amy demanded. "Take off your bra, too, and show us those breasts. I want you to rub them for us. Rub them, and pinch your nipples." "Get those nipples all nice and rigid!" Devon growled. Pamela still seemed flustered and embarrassed, but all those negative emotions apparently faded away in an instant once I gently cradled her face with my hand and smiled at her in a reassuring manner. Was Pamela embarrassed strictly because I had caught her in the act, so to speak, playing a sexy game over live Internet video with four of our lovers? Was I not supposed to know about this? Did Pamela not want me to see this more... adventurous side of her? Strange as it may sound, but - and this certainly was not the case in the early stages of our relationship - Pamela was the most sexually active and over-charged of our entire group. She had sex - craved sex - more than any of us. And now it seemed that my sexy, little bookworm bombshell could not contain herself until we returned home to Norway. Kristanna had obviously lured her into having _video sex chat_ over the Internet, and the ladies back home were going to take full advantage of the situation. And, despite the fact Piper was sleeping in the very next room, I was going to get in on some of the fun, too. Why not? I could spare a few moments in here; there was no way Piper would wake up. "Take your bra off, Pamela." The ladies clapped and laughed with glee at my words. The tone was not a request; it was a demand. Pamela looked up at me timidly, almost submissively, and nodded her head. The bra was on the tiled floor just seconds later. My wife no longer felt embarrassment or shame. With my blessing for the situation that she had gotten herself into, Pamela was now a powder keg of desire waiting to explode. All she needed, it seemed, was my approval. "Play with your nipples," I directed her next, and she did. "Look at those titties!" Devon exclaimed. "Oh my God, I want to suck on them so much!" "Like this?" Amy asked, as she tilted her head and began feasting away upon one of Devon's lush nipples. "Oh, Amy!" Devon moaned. "That feels so good, baby!" "Those titties of Pammy's seem to get bigger every single day!" Kristanna said. "They look incredible!" "Where are Trish and Lindsay, even Alison?" I asked the group as a whole. "Why aren't they with you?" "Those three are tending to Jackson and Kaylee at the moment," Kristanna informed me. "Kaden and Dani Grace aren't awake yet. It's only seven o'clock in the morning here, you know." Kristanna then got a devilish look in her eyes. "Turn around, Pamela, so I can see that ass. Bend over, too." "Looks good enough to have for breakfast!" Scarlett said as Pamela did a little pirouette and bent over slightly. "Those legs are so damn perfect! Good God, Pamela... you are so sexy. All of us have missed you so much!" Oh wow... Pamela was blushing. "I missed you all, too." And she was giggling like a flustered, little schoolgirl. "You know what I want?" Amy grinned. "I want to see Jeremy's cock." The others nodded in unison and I gulped my throat as Amy added, "Take out your cock, Jeremy, and show it to us! That's what we want to see!" "You girls are crazy!" I laughed at them. "I want to see Pamela suck that cock," Kristanna hissed. "I want her to suck it and swallow a big mouthful of cum!" Pamela was _still_ blushing. Of course, I probably was too by this point in time. "Do you think I should?" she asked them in return, reaching out and casually rubbing the hard, pulsing lump in my shorts. "Over the Internet?" "No one will see it but us, baby," Kristanna insisted, almost pleading with her at the same time. "Trust me, this connection is locked and 100 percent secure. I promise you!" "We know how much you LOVE sucking cock," Scarlett chimed in. "C'mon, do it for us, honey. Do it for us." "Swallow it whole!" Kristanna blurted out. "I'd already have that big cock of Jeremy's in my mouth if I was there," Devon offered, trying to urge Pamela on. "Look how hard he is! I can see it poking beneath his shorts!" "How can she control herself?" Scarlett whined. "Pammy needs a mouthful of cum!" Kristanna taunted her. Amy licked her lips. "I'd like to see Jeremy pull out of her mouth at the last possible second and blow his load all over that sweet, pretty face." "Oh, no," Devon countered. "She BETTER swallow it all." There was a loud, boisterous roar of approval from the laptop's speaker as Pamela dropped to her knees before me. She grasped my bulging erection through the shorts I wore and offered a long, generous squeeze, but then used her opposite hand to pull the garment downward. My shaft, at full strength because of the way the ladies were taunting Pamela and egging her on, popped out into view before those dreamy brown eyes and Pamela smiled up at me. "Piper is still sleeping, I trust?" "Yes," I breathed at her. "Out like a light." "I want that cock so much!" Amy mewed. "It's been four whole days since I had it in me last!" "Pamela's such a lucky girl!" Devon screeched. "What I wouldn't do to wrap my lips around that big cock right now! Hmmmmm... I'm getting so fucking hungry!" Pamela turned and glanced over at the web-cam, her shining, halo-white teeth breaking into a smile. Then she manuevered a bit, getting more comfortable on her knees, and offered me an equally joyful look. Using her hand right, Pamela grasped the base of my shaft and then slipped its head into her mouth. That blonde head began to gently bob back-and-forth upon my erection, those innocent, puppy dog eyes trained on my face. Pamela was already letting out muffled sounds of erotic hunger as she worked over the tip of my shaft, licking and slurping it into a frenzy. She kept her left hand on the floor, using it to help balance herself, as the catcalls continued. "Take your G-string panties off, Pamela!" Devon encouraged. "I want to watch you finger your pussy while you suck that cock! C'mon, rub that little pussy while you suck him off!" "Jeremy really needs to fuck her mouth hard," Amy observed. "I mean, REALLY HARD. Fuck her face, even!" "Do you know how jealous we are of you right now?" Scarlett moaned. "Next time, _I_ get to go with Jeremy on a trip!" "Oh hush, Scarlett," Kristanna chided her. "You and Jeremy are getting married on Saturday. He's going to fuck your brains out that night - even with you being eight months pregnant - like never before. And you'll have him all to yourself." "I wish we could have a big orgy that night instead!" Amy proclaimed. "Wouldn't that be so much more fun?" "When I married Jeremy," Devon told them, "and we woke up in the morning, my wedding dress was literally PLASTERED with cum. Jeremy wouldn't let me take it off at all the night before! And oh God, I think he must have came over every square inch of my body. I was absolutely caked in it!" "Jeremy is a really big cummer if you get him worked up enough," Kristanna nodded. "And no one has a bigger cum fixation in this family than I do!" "You love the taste, don't you, baby?" Amy purred. "You know I do," Kristanna nodded. Pamela was now busily stroking the length of my shaft with her right hand as her head continued to bob back-and-forth, taking half of it into her mouth. She retreated for a quick moment, only to dab and swipe her tongue across my testicles, but then snatched my length right back into her mouth. More sounds, most of them tiny groans, continued to come from deep within her throat as her eyes still never left my face. "Such a good little cocksucker!" Kristanna rumbled. "Jeremy really needs to fuck that face!" Amy repeated. This sort of behavior from Kristanna, Devon, Amy and Scarlett was, to put it mildly, a bit over the top. They were rarely this loud, and never quite so derogatory and unruly with their words and treatment of each other. But this, quite obviously, was something new and exciting for everyone involved. They were over the top, indeed, but most of all, they were having fun. Pamela was too, right along with them. I certainly would have never thought of using video chat over the Internet with the ladies in such a manner. My simple idea with it was to keep in touch with everyone during our trip, and catch glimpses of the kids. I could tell that Kristanna, Devon, Amy and Scarlett were getting a real kick out of the way they were treating and talking to Pamela. They were riding her _hard_. But she was taking it in stride. The ringleader, of course, was Kristanna. No one loved to playfully pester and tease Pamela more than she did. "Take your G-string off, Pamela!" Kristanna begged her, echoing an earlier sentiment. "I want to see your pussy. Be a good girl, and take your G-string off!" A deafening cheer erupted once Pamela used her left hand to work her turquoise-colored panties from her hips, and down her thighs. "Turn a bit toward the camera, baby," Devon instructed her. "That's it, that's it, baby. There! Now finger your pussy while you suck that cock. Finger it!" "I'd much rather that be my tongue than her fingers," Kristanna growled as Pamela complied, sliding a pair of long, supple digits up and down the folds of her labia. "Open your legs a little further," Scarlett requested. "Can we actually zoom in on her pussy with the camera?" "I want to watch her sucking cock, too," Amy countered. "It's turning me the fuck on!" Pamela was taking her sweet time, leisurely working my shaft over now, while also clearly paying attention to the ongoing dialogue from the laptop. At times, she would dart her eyes toward the monitor and both giggle and sneer at some of the comments that were being made about her. Pamela was definitely relaxed now, and in her element. "Do you know WHAT the only thing in the whole, wide world is that would make having this cock in my mouth even better right now?" Pamela finally spoke, looking at the web-cam. "What's that, baby?" Devon wondered. "What?" Amy added. Pamela smiled and batted her eyelashes shyly. "If all of you were here, and I could taste your pussies on it." Those words set off a chain reaction of moans and quick one-liners, many of them spoken over top of each other. It also nearly made me blow my load prematurely. Pamela resumed her act of fellatio, continuing to stimulate her labia with two fingers from her left hand while using her right to squeeze and knead both of her breasts. What this meant was that Pamela was now sucking my cock without using her hands, and thus swallowing its full, entire length deep into the reaches of her throat with every forward head-stroke. Pamela took my testicles into her right hand and played with them as she now deep-throated me all the way to my scrotum. My knees felt weak and wobbly as she pulled back and carried on with her glorious act, her long-flowing blonde hair swishing back-and-forth as her lips, mouth and tongue pushed me toward the proverbial edge. Those ripe, succulent lips of hers slid up-and-down my shaft, her cheeks puckered, as she sucked hard. "Pamela is such a good girl!" I heard Kristanna comment. "She really belongs on her knees in front of Jeremy, sucking his cock like that!" Amy mused. "No, _I_ am the one who needs to be sucking that cock!" Devon told them, her tone greedy, yet playful. "I'd love to share it with you, baby," Scarlett told Devon. "We could both suck on it at the same time." "Oh yeah!" Devon exclaimed. "That sounds even better!" I put my hand on Pamela's forehead and held it in place as I stepped back and withdrew my shaft from the sweet clutches of her mouth. Curious, not to mention disappointed, Pamela glared up at me with unquenched lust as I stepped back even further. She could not believe that I pulled out of her! Pamela had put on a _show_, so to speak, for the girls back home in Norway. Now, it was my turn. And in order to do so, I needed to take complete control of the situation. The sole impetus for this was that I had noticed, on the washroom sinktop beside us, a strange-looking device. It was a sort of leather-bound metal ring attached on either side to short leather straps, one of them featuring a buckle at its end and the other holes for the buckle to fasten into. I knew exactly what it was. It was, in fact, one of Amy's customized gags that she enjoyed using during bondage play. It was perfect for keeping a woman's mouth nice and wide open for a cock to thump their face. But why was it here now? Did Amy sneak it into Pamela's suitcase before we left? And why was it on the sinktop? Did Pamela have plans on putting it on? Did Kristanna and the others talk her into perhaps trying it out? Indeed, it was time for me to take charge. "Put your hands on my hips," I instructed Pamela. "I don't want you to move them." Again, my wife did as she was told, but then gasped as I reached over and snatched the ring gag from the sinktop. "What is this doing here? Were you going to gag yourself for the others? Well, that is my job now, Pamela. Open your mouth like a good girl. Open wide." Pamela actually obeyed, and I began to fit the ring between her teeth as a new round of cheers and catcalls emanated from the laptop. "Wider than that," I commanded her. "Much wider than that." Pamela struggled to comply, but was successful. "There," I said with satisfaction, as Pamela's mouth was now gaped wider than it ever had been before. Pamela had definite submissive tendencies, but I had never really explored them in-depth with her. I was not really sure that I wanted to; our sex life was perfectly fine the way it was. Plus, Pamela had always been quite reluctant to the idea of submitting to Kristanna. Perhaps she was curious about the idea, but did not want to go forward with it. But right now? This was a first. I had never seen Pamela with a gag in her mouth before. And she looked divine. I buckled the strap around the back of Pamela's head. As I did so, I held her head tightly up against my front, with my throbbing cock pressed against her cheek and her nose. Pamela inhaled sharply and seemed to sag afterward; perhaps the scent of wanton masculinity was nearly too much for her to handle as I prepared her mouth for use. "Fuck her face!" Amy pleaded as I stepped back. "You look... very pretty that way, Pamela," I told her. Pamela definitely blushed as I surveyed every square inch of her body. A beautiful, naked woman, Pamela's pussy was bare and showing its private cleft, as she knelt and was ready for service with her hands firmly entrenched on either side of my hips. Her mouth was held obscenely open by the ring into which I would soon thrust my shaft to take the most delicious sensations she could afford me. My eyes traveled up and down her body several more times in succession, simply appraising, evaluating, enjoying the right I had to look at her unclothed. Pamela was my wife and her body, quite simply, belonged to me. I grasped my cock with my right hand and guided it toward Pamela's mouth. Was she actually quivering a bit? "Oh God!" Amy moaned. "I love it when Jeremy becomes all forceful and domineering like this! It's so fucking hot!" "Ravage Pammy's mouth!" Kristanna begged me. "He needs to give her a good spanking, too!" Amy exclaimed. With a little grunt, and letting Pamela know I truly meant business, I pushed my cock all the way into her mouth, seizing her blonde hair and gathering it into a makeshift pony-tail at the same time. Pamela's throat made the same wet, submissive sound Amy did whenever I thrusted my cock through the leather ring and into the depths of her mouth. Pamela's eyes rolled about as she glared up at me and struggled to keep her balance. Pamela had my cock in her mouth. In my current, dominant mindset, I moved it about not to please her, but because it made _me_ feel good. That was the key. I knew my rights, arrogant as it may sound, when it came to dealing with an overly eager submissive female like this. I allowed her a brief moment to steady her breathing. "It's time to give the girls what they want, Pamela." After leaning over, finding a better position - and while making sure the web-cam caught our every move - I kept one hand on her head as the other cupped underneath her jaw, and then I began to thrust. Shallow but quick jabs at first, Pamela actually choked for a moment, but soon adjusted to the rhythm. When she let out a long, drawn-out gasp, I thrusted my cock into her deeper, harder, enjoying the sensations. "I want to choke on that cock, too!" Devon bellowed. "I'll get you a strap-on after this, baby, so you can suck on it," Amy volunteered. "Maybe even TWO strap-ons!" "I want them both in my mouth together!" Devon whined. I sheathed the base of my cock completely into Pamela's mouth with every thrust while I held her face tight against my lap. The ring actually made Pamela drool. I forced my way in and out at a rapid-fire pace; I had both hands on her head now, holding it perfectly still so I could come and go through the ring and into her mouth just as I pleased. Soon, I was piercing Pamela's throat. Her eyes watered and she gagged, but I pulled out and rammed myself even deeper inside her throat with the next stroke. Much to her credit, Pamela kept her hands locked tightly upon my hips. I told her not to move them earlier. She was not about to. Indeed, she had submissive tendencies. Pamela loved this sort of treatment. I had found, once she became totally comfortable in the unique relationship and life we led about about two years ago, Pamela actually preferred sex to be very physical and demanding. She was not quite as demure and timid as I was once led to believe. And to think, at one point very early on - back in 2013 - I was scared to even _look_ at Pamela, much less touch her, let alone bear the thought of becoming intimate with her. I was too worried that I may actually offend her, or even turn her away from me. Ahh, those days of trying to convince the former stripper that I really did love her; far too concerned that she may take it the wrong way if I made even the slightest of sexual advances toward her. Oh, how times have changed. I glared down at Pamela and saw a lovely, yet pale face wreathed in golden hair, her brown eyes turned submissively toward my lap. A little mouth, held open by a gag so that my cock could come and go. She was drooling everywhere by now. Pamela's hands secure and on my hips. I felt no worry or anxiety that the 33-year-old could escape a single thrust into her throat. Of course, she did not want to. Soon, I withdrew and swiftly unbuckled the gag, letting it fall to the floor. Pamela closed her mouth for an instant, mixing the fluid I had put there with her own saliva. She worked her jaw, trying to make the ache from the gag fade. "Get that mouth open!" I demanded. I thrusted into Pamela's mouth yet again, growling long and hard, as her hands clutched and rubbed at my pumping hips. "You will swallow every last drop," I instructed Pamela, even warning her, as I felt my cock began to contract and spasm. Now looking up at me, Pamela steadied herself and inhaled the full length of my shaft as the first, initial burst of semen was deposited into her mouth and throat. Undaunted, she continued sucking and proceeded to coax several more eruptions out of me, each of them filling and nearly flooding her mouth with my warm, sticky essence. Intense, unyielding pleasure just ripped throughout my entire body; not only because of Pamela and her expert oral skills, but also because of the wicked _audience_ that we had watching us via the computer. Once the cascade of semen had reached its conclusion, Pamela seemed happy and satisfied as she carefully withdrew her head from my cock, her hands still locked on my hips. She smiled up at me and opened her mouth wide, displaying a thick pool of sperm resting comfortably atop her tongue and in her mouth. She then turned toward the web-cam, her mouth still wide open, showcasing the fruits of her labor. "Oh my God!" Kristanna shrieked. "Look at all that cum!" "It looks like a reservoir!" Amy gushed. "There's plenty enough there for her to share with us through kisses!" Scarlett complained, clearly upset that she was not here as well. "This isn't fair!" Pamela smiled, obviously getting the last laugh from all of the teasing that she took earlier, as she closed her mouth and let the gooey mess slowly and gradually drain down the back of the throat. An instant later, she popped her mouth open and giggled at the camera. It was completely empty. She made certain the other girls knew it, too. No one was making fun of her any longer. "Such a lucky girl!" Devon screeched yet again. I leaned down and kissed Pamela's forehead, then moved my face toward the web-cam and grinned at the four hellcats who clearly wanted to sexually destroy both of us right now. Perhaps they would get their opportunity when we arrived home on Wednesday evening? "Pamela and I are going to sleep," I told them. "You girls have a good night... day, I suppose." They were six hours ahead of us because of time zones. "I love you all." And then I closed the laptop, effectively shutting it down and terminating the video chat. "You are a very, VERY bad girl," I told Pamela in the aftermath. "And I love you for it." I cupped her chin with the palm of my hand and caressed it gently. "Seeing you with that ring in your mouth... was something different." "I kind of liked it," Pamela coyly admitted. "That's good, because I'm not done with you yet," I said, pushing Pamela downward and pinning her shoulders to the tiled floor of the hotel washroom. Her brown eyes as big as saucers now, Pamela gulped her throat and stared up at me. Obviously, she thought that I did not have more in me. I moved between her widespread thighs and took a dominant mindset again. "Internet time is over. Now it's MY time." Pamela grunted and, once she realized that I was somehow sporting a new erection, pushed herself a bit closer to me. "Oh God, Jeremy," she moaned. "Please, please... fuck me." Needing no further coaxing, I used both hands and actually flipped Pamela's entire body over, and onto her left side. She landed with an audible thud upon the floor and I quickly moved in behind her, ready for entrance. I popped my cock between the soft, pouty lips of her pussy, watching them part and collapse back in as its head vanished between those folds. I wasted no time; Pamela cried out at the absolute top of her lungs in sheer ecstasy as the pink slit between her thighs parted as I thrusted into her deep, powerfully, with great force. Drawing on every last ounce of strength and energy that I had, I pounded Pamela's body over and over again. Her entire frame rocked and shook with each forward plunge of my cock. Those big breasts bounced and flopped about wildly in place as if to an unheard rythym. I held her down upon the floor, using more leverage, pressing those breasts to the surface. Her body felt so very right beneath me; pink and little and all my own, bared for me, ready for me to take whatever I wanted. That ass sure did look like it needed some attention. "Oh God," Pamela sobbed after I brought my hand down hard upon that unsuspecting backside. "Oh Jeremy, oh God... you are... you're... you're SPANKING me!" "Were you going to charge those girls a per hour fee for your sex show?" I teased Pamela, my hips still bucking and churning like mad as I plowed myself in-and-out of her at a blistering pace. At the same time, I spanked her ass not hard, but steadily, wanting to get my point across. "Do you think it was okay for you to sneak into the bathroom and put on a sex show in your little bra and panties, without telling me first? What if I slept through the whole thing?" "But... but..." Pamela groaned. "You're going to cum, Pamela, but only after I give you a long, hard spanking. What do you say to that?" She reached behind her wildly, desperately, but I took both of her wrists into one hand and secured them at the small of her back. I settled down onto my side and pressed myself roughly against her from behind. The change in angle altered the pitch of her screams a few octaves higher. Pamela's arms failed to break free. She was mine. I raised my right hand and brought it down upon Pamela's luscious backside. The slap rang out like a gunshot, and Pamela squirmed delightfully as she emitted a sharp cry of discomfort. The even mixture of shock and pure arousal across her face gave me the green light, so to speak, to continue and move forward. I spanked her again, my hand leaving a lasting impact, and then she managed to break her own hands free of my grasp. Pamela promptly reached back with both and tried to cover her hot, smoldering ass, rubbing it frantically. "Hands!" I roared at her. "No hands!" "Oh God... oh, I'm sorry..." She pulled her hands away. My palm flashed down yet again with force and Pamela yelped loudly. Her hands then formed tight balls in front of her on the floor. Now she could not resist kicking her legs but I, undaunted, simply slipped my left arm around her waist to keep her nice and stady while my right hand kept peppering the bottom that moved so exquisitely underneath my dominant care. Still, it did not stop the disobedient, desperate motions, as she kicked her feet like a petulant little girl. But, I did not want to go too far with this. How often had I actually spanked Pamela in the past? Three, perhaps four times? I could not push her beyond her comfort zone. If this was Amy, the sky would be the absolute limit, because Amy truly got off on being dominated and spanked. For Pamela, however, I needed to go in moderation. So I simply began my cock thrusting harder, faster, deeper into Pamela. Taking a fistful of hair, I jerked her head to the side and whispered into her ear, "You truly deserved that spanking. You are a very bad girl and, truth be told, I doubt it will be your last spanking." "I... oh God..." she sobbed to the floor. "Tell me," I said, giving her the absolute hardest push I could and then resting deep, "that you are a bad girl." I drove in again. Pamela responded with a loud scream. I felt my own body on the verge of explosion. "I'm a bad girl!" she finally admitted. "I'M A BAD GIRL!" The tip of my shaft swelled and the skin around it grew tight. I pulled on Pamela's hair even harder. I felt the soles of her stocking-clad feet upon the front of my leg, her entire body shaking as she went into erotic convulsions. She let out a loud, shreiking cry, but soon it transitioned into a moan. Then, I reached my own breaking point. I dug my chin into my wife's shoulder and shot my seed into her womb again and again. Pamela's breathing became a ragged pant as she writhed in my grip, held fast, and came. Just the raw energy of her body and mind giving way to my more forceful and domineering side was such a powerful feeling. I did not want Pamela to be submissive like Amy, however. Rather, this had been a fun and free-spirited, yet temporary, detour from normalcy for Pamela. For us. Pulling out, I gave Pamela's ass one final, quick swat. Afterward, I carried Pamela out to the bed in the front room and fetched a heavy comforter from the closet, which I laid over her. Piper, of course, was still fast asleep, so I sat down on the edge of the mattress and stroked Pamela's golden hair until she too, dozed off. Neither of us said a word during this particular time, but Pamela looked up at me with bright, shining eyes until she ultimately closed them. * * * The fun and erotic events which took place overnight were quickly pushed to the wayside in the morning as Pamela and I woke up and prepared for her grandmother's funeral. I had been through this scenario before - with Trish last year - yet I still felt utterly powerless as I watched my wife prepare to say goodbye to a loved one for the final time. There was nothing I could do, not much I could say, that would do anything to help ease her pain and remorse. When the service started shortly after noon, there was an attitude of somberness and regret all throughout the funeral home. There were no smiles stemming from the memory of Genevieve - Pamela's "Mom-Mom" - only sorrow over the tragic loss of this sweet and loving soul. The atmosphere, quite melancholic with nearly everyone dressed in dark clothes and tears freely flowing from members of the immediate family, was difficult to deal with. I hated sadness. I felt horrible for Pamela's father, Tom, who had lost his mother. Pamela was quite upset, naturally, unable to control her emotions as she sat next to Tom and held his hand. Piper, who was with me on the opposite side of Pamela, seemed hurt and confused at the sight of her mother crying, only then to become loud and unruly, and scream at the top of her lungs in response. I tried to get Piper to calm down, but it only made her worse. Without thinking, and not knowing if it was proper etiquette or not, I clutched Piper, who was kicking and screaming, close to me and carried her out of the main funeral room. I did not want our 15 month old daughter to disturb what was a sacred, blessed ceremony. I ducked into a side hall and sat down in a corner, still holding Piper close, rocking her, trying to soothe and settle her nerves. Piper did not take well to seeing her mother cry, obviously, but she became even more upset when I escorted her from the service, separating her and Pamela in the process. That really set Piper off, and she was letting me have it as a result - simply acting unbearable - in the hallway. Somehow, I was able to get Piper to behave - or, at the very least - guide her along on the path to doing so. She was still sniffling when I noticed, moments later, people were starting to slowly disperse from the viewing room. Figuring that the memorial service was now over, I stood up and carried Piper out to the lobby and waited for a glimpse of Pamela. In the meantime, I pulled out my cell phone and turned it on. It did not take long for it to boot up. But when it did, I found a deluge of text messages waiting for me. All of them, I quickly realized, were sent from Norway. "Are you guys doing okay?" (Kristanna) "tell pamela i love her & am so sorry" (Lindsay) "im thinking of you both" (Amy) "How is Pamela holding up?" (Kristanna) "My deepest condolences for you and Pamela." (Alison) "funerals r so sad! give Pamela a hug 4 me?" (Scarlett) "i made a batch of pamela's favorite cookies for when you all get back home. let it be a surprise for her, ok?" (Amy) "Tell Pamela I wish I could be there for her." (Trish) "i love & miss both of you // send pam my sympathy" (Devon) "I'm worried about Pamela. Please call me when you have the chance to talk. Love you and her so much xoxo" (Kristanna) Overcome - no, blown away - by the sudden outpouring of caring and support from the various women in our family, my eyes welled with tears and I actually placed the cell phone upon my chest and held it next to my heart. I groaned and sighed in response; what a truly incredible feeling it was! To know that these six angels were home waiting for us - no, seven (I was going to include Alison) - with their undying love, their dedication to our family... the idea was too much. It was too much for me to handle, to comprehend, right now. What did I ever do to deserve a life this wonderful? Lost in the moment, I did not even realize that Pamela was beside me until she reached out and pulled Piper into her own arms. I snapped back to reality and felt my heart flutter at the sight of Pamela, even in her vulnerable state. "Hi there, sweet P," my wife smiled through her own mass of tears, embracing Piper and kissing her on the cheek. "I love you, baby. Oh, you are so sweet!" She began to rock and bounce Piper about. "Oh, it's okay, sweetie. Mommy was sad earlier, but now I am happy because I am here with you! Mommy loves you so much! So much!" I thought about showing my cell phone to Pamela with all those touching text messages, but then remembered that Amy wanted the batch of cookies she had prepared to be a surprise and ultimately decided not to. Besides, I figured Pamela had three times that amount of text messages on her own telephone. Surely, the ladies bombarded her with their love and sympathy. "You're not angry I pulled Piper from the funeral?" I asked Pamela, again unsure about the proper etiquette concerning a loud and unruly child during a memorial service. "No," she told me, shaking her head. "No one got angry. It had to be done." And with that, Pamela extended her left arm toward me and, a moment later, I found myself in the midst of a three-way embrace involving my wife and daughter. I savored the moment, cherished it, thankful to the Heavens above for all of the many wonderful blessings I had in life. And tomorrow morning, we were going home. <<<- End of Chapter 03 ->>> ==---- -- -- -- - --- -- -- - - --- -- -- --- - -- - - - - --- -- ----== "Island Fever 5: Family" (c) 2016 JeremyDCP - JeremyDCP@hotmail.com Feedback is always appreciated!