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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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Chapter 05: "Foundation"
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             -*-  Friday, March 11, 2016  -*-
                  -*-  Oslo, Norway  -*-


   "It's very disturbing to watch Donald Duck carve a turkey."
   "Hmmmmm?" I murmured in response to Alison, who was walking
alongside me as we made our way toward the pier in downtown
Oslo.  "What did you say?" I asked her.  "Donald Duck?  Huh?"
   Alison giggled.  "It's Lindsay.  Sometimes she says the
craziest things.  Lindsay just texted me out of the blue and
goes, _it's very disturbing to watch Donald Duck carve a
turkey_."  Alison giggled again, then shook her head as she
tapped away furiously on her cell phone, likely composing a
suitable response for her sister.  "Lindsay must be watching 
cartoons right now with Kaden and Piper.  That has to be it.  
Friday night is always cartoon night."
   "Isn't Donald... isn't that a bit cannibalistic?"
   Alison stifled a laugh.  "You think?  Wouldn't Donald Duck 
be carving up his own cousin, sort of, by doing that?"
   I shrugged my shoulders.  "Maybe he isn't all he's
quacked up to be.  You never know."
   Alison shuddered theatrically.  "I suppose not."
   For the past 45 minutes, Alison and I had been wandering
around the streets in the heart of Oslo, Norway's capital 
city, engaging in mostly small talk but also enjoying each
others company.  For lack of a better term, this was what best 
could be described as a _first date_ for the two of us.  
   After I let my guard down and agreed to give Alison an
opportunity at working her way into our family and way of
life, this was officially step one of that process.  Of
course, it came with the full blessing and backing of my six
wives and one fiancee, all of whom were home now with the 
kids.  I was positive they would want to know every detail.
   Never mind the fact that moments ago, some random guy
approached Alison on the street and tried to flirt and hit
on her, only then to ask me if I was her _father_ when I
stepped in and put an end to it.
   But I digress...
   Nothing too fancy, Alison still looked pristine and very
attractive in a pair of cropped jeans, a black top and a
suede knee-length coat.  Her blonde locks were pulled back
into a casual bun and she wore black flats upon her feet.
It was cold and brisk out, but we were having a good time.
   As Alison and I strolled along Grev Wedels Plass (a street),
we were nearing the seaport, which was considered a historic
district in Oslo.  There was something about this particular
area that I just loved and could never get quite enough of.
Perhaps it was the water, the salty smell, the ambiance.  Or
maybe all of it combined.
   "So what are you in the mood for?" I asked, to which Alison
raised a playful eyebrow.  "Food wise," I clarified.
   "I'm easy," Alison responded.  "Surprise me."
   "How about cheese clam rolls on that bench over there?
Best clam rolls in the world come from that truck parked 
across the street.  That guy is almost always here."
   Alison seemed to ponder the suggestion for a moment or
two.  "Only had clam one other time in my life, but I
remember enjoying it.  Yeah, I guess that sounds fine."
Alison spun so she was walking backward, facing me as she
added, "Trish and Lindsay told me that you are a lunatic
when it comes to seafood, Jeremy.  You would eat it every
single day if you could.  Am I right?"
   "You are," I conceded.  "I developed quite the taste for
seafood during all those many years I spent on the island.
Before the island, I never even tried seafood."
   "I should call you Charlie Tuna from now on," Alison
grinned, turning on her shoe and leading the way toward the
nearby food truck.  "You're starting to grow gills!"
   "Hey, that wasn't nice," I called after her.
   Alison glanced back over her shoulder and giggled at me
before speaking to the man behind the counter.  "Hi there!
We would like to order two cheese clam rolls," she told him
as I pulled up beside her.
   "Hot or cold?" the guy grumbled.
   "Hot."
   "Cold."  We answered in unison.
   I held up a hand.  "One hot.  One cold.  And a large order
of french fries with lemon, please?"  I looked at Alison, who
nodded her head in approval at me.  After adding a couple of
bottled waters onto our meal, we sought out the park bench
facing the water and took a seat.  It was dreary and overcast,
but that kind of fit the pier and added to its appeal.
   "Oh wow," Alison said after taking a bite of her clam roll,
served cold on a buttered and grilled bun, with melted cheese,
celery and mayonnaise.  She actually covered her mouth as she 
spoke to be polite.  "This is wonderful.  Oh my God."
   "I thought you may enjoy it," I said, glancing back toward
the truck.  "The dude in that truck may not be that friendly, 
but no one makes a better clam roll than him."  Alison shook 
her head and indulged in another bite.  It was incredibly 
cute, the way she took her time to savor the flavors of each
tender morsel while closing her eyes to do so more effectively.
I smiled at the stunning, beautiful visual.
   "Not the way I envisioned our first date to go, you know,"
Alison soon offered.  "Eating clam rolls on a park bench in
the cold as it gets dark?  This is... unique."
   "As opposed to taking you to a nice restaurant and having
a fancy meal over candlelight?"
   Alison shrugged.  "I guess so, yeah.  But I'm not, you
know, complaining.  I'm actually having a really good time.  I
think we have gotten to know each other fairly well tonight."
   I took a healthy bite of my own clam roll.  "Well, you
certainly don't strike me as the kind of girl who has spent
all that much time on piers around fishermen."
   Alison smiled at that, and God, that smile did a number on
me.  I felt warm all over in response, despite the constant
chill drifting in off the water.  "No, not a lot of piers.  I
grew up in Ohio, which you are well aware of."  I offered her
a french fry, which she wholeheartedly accepted.  "I never
even saw the ocean until I went with Mom and my other two
sisters, Jennifer and Gina, to Italy on - WHOA - these fries
are good.  Why are these fries so good?"
   I laughed.  "It's the lemon.  Salt and lemon on french
fries is a killer combination.  I learned that from Amy."
   "I know you have family back in Ohio too, Jeremy, though
I have never met them," Alison mused.  "Well... I do remember
seeing your mom at Lindsay's wedding back in December 2014,
when she and Trish got married.  But I never really got to
talk to her.  Are you close with your family at all?"
   I considered the question.  My relationship with my family
was quite the delicate subject, and I did not feel as if now
was the best time to dive in and explain all the many problems 
I had with various members of it.  So, I kept it simple.
   "Definitely close with my father," I nodded.  "He is 77
and lives in California; is still very active, and in great
shape.  He and Mom have been separated for a long, long time,
though - since 1998.  I talk to him several times a week.  He
has been the most constant thing throughout my entire life.
Dad never doubted me, never questioned me, about any decision
I ever made.  All he ever wanted was for me to be happy."
   "As any good parent should."
   "I agree."
   "Is he going to be at your wedding tomorrow with Scarlett?
And your mom?  You have two brothers and a sister, right?"
   I winced.  "Dad just got over a bad case of the flu, so we
decided that, at his age, it would probably be best that he
skip the wedding and stay home in California.  That's a 7,000
mile flight for him to get here, and that is just one-way.
But we will have a video feed of the wedding on the Internet 
for him.  Dad came here to visit after Dani Grace was born 
seven months ago, and the trip was a bit rough on him."
   "What about your mom, your brothers, your sister?"
   "I'm not really close with them."
   "Oh.  I'm sorry."  Alison seemed taken aback.  She was a
family girl at heart, just like Lindsay, and probably could
not fathom the idea of being at odds, on the outs, with her
mother or any of her sisters.  The fact that Alison's father
died of a sudden and shocking heart attack at a very early
age in November 2012 probably strengthened the bond she felt
with the rest of her family.  Obviously, Alison had never 
been through a civil war within her family quite like the 
one I was experiencing right now with my oldest brother and 
sister.  The idea itself was completely foreign to her.
   "Don't be sorry.  Not your fault.  I love my mom, but she
is caught in the middle of me and my brother and sister.
Dan and Di, they don't... approve of the life I lead."
   Alison frowned.  "All the women you're married to?"
   "Yeah.  They don't like it.  But they don't understand,
either.  That's fine, though.  It really is.  But Mom gets
caught in the crossfire between us at times, so I have tended
to back away from her over the past six months.  I don't want
Mom to have any undue stress because of me.  She is 74 and
not exactly in the best of health nowadays."
   "Understood," Alison mewed, and then we ate the last few
bites of our meal in comfortable silence as we stared out at
picturesque Oslofjorden, an inlet that ultimately led to the
Baltic Sea.  There was something about the water at night
that intrigued me, too.  Perhaps it was the combination of
the mystery of the darkness and the tranquility of the sea.
At any rate, I never got tired of the amazing visual.
   I stole a glance of Alison, who seemed lost in thought.
Indeed, she would have never imagined in a million years
that our first real night out together would consist of
dinner from a food truck while relaxing on the pier in the
cold.  But I wanted something out of the ordinary.  In my
mind, at least, it had made for a really nice evening.
   Done with her clam roll and french fries, Alison wadded
up the wrapper that lined her cardboard tray.  "What now,
Jeremy?"  There was a smile tugging at her lips.
   I turned to Alison and grinned softly, reaching out with
one finger and brushing the hair from her forehead in a move
that she was clearly not expecting.  Suddenly, the 19-year-old
looked spellbound.  "Now, I take you home.  I asked you to
have dinner with me tonight, and you did.  Thank you."
   "You're welcome," she said after several seconds, trying to
collect herself.  "It was my pleasure."  I got the sense,
though, that Alison seemed a bit deflated.  Did I call off our
date too soon?  She definitely seemed to want to do more.
   We walked along the pier as dusk continued to fall and
strengthen its hold over the city.  The stars now shined
bright overhead as loud, boisterous voices drifted from the 
beer garden as we passed it.  "Jeremy?"
   "Yes?"
   "I'm glad you brought me here."
   I passed Alison a look.  Her hands were in the pockets of
her suede knee-length coat, and a smile touched the sides of
her mouth.  Dear God, she reminded me so much of her sister.
The very same sister who often sent my libido speeding up the
wall.  "Me too."  It was the simplest answer I could give, 
but somehow seemed to say a whole lot more.

                           * * *

   "If you like the outdoors and nature, boating, hiking,
skiing, camping, you'll absolutely love Norway," I told
Alison, perhaps 20 minutes later, as we leisurely cruised
along European Route E18 toward our hometown of Sandvika in
my _Jeep Wrangler_.  "It is cold for the great majority of
the year in Norway, but not necessarily horribly cold."
   "Norway is a monarchy, yet a social democracy with
elections," I added, explaining what it would be like for
Alison to live here permanently.  "Taxes are high and the
cost of living is off the charts.  Places here, they have
odd hours.  The big grocery stores close super early, and
many are closed altogether on Sundays.  Labor unions are
incredibly powerful and determine how businesses run."
   "It's fairly laid-back here; relaxed, and calm.  Oslo is
very similar to Cincinnati in terms of size and population.
I'm so glad that we all decided to settle down here.  Not
only does Krissy get to be close to her mom and dad - they
live on the opposite end of the farm from us - but all of
the other girls love it here, too.  Norway is awesome and
beautiful; its mountains, forests, lakes, fjords, seacoast,
countryside, towns... all of its tiny villages.  During the
summer, up north, you can see the midnight sun.  During the
winter months, you can see the northern lights."
   "I really like what I've seen of Norway thus far," Alison
said, tilting her head to the side as she glanced my way.
"But I feel as if I knew a lot about the country already, 
from everything Lindsay, even Trish, told me about it.  Plus,
I did a lot of research and reading about it beforehand."
   Continuing along my tendency to ask Alison the most random
of questions since we left the mansion earlier, I piped up,
"I imagine you had a job in Ohio.  Where did you work?"
   "I was a waitress at _Frisch's Big Boy_ for the past three
years," she answered.  "_Frisch's_ is a regional hamburger
chain in Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky; there are like 125 of
them, I think.  It's the only job I've ever had."
   "I know all about _Frisch's_.  Been there a time or two."
   "Of course," Alison nodded.  "You were born in Ohio."
   "Amy used to be a waitress at _Hooters_ in Cincinnati," I
offered.  "Remember, she is from our neck of the woods too.
Amy's mom and dad are actually moving to Norway from Ohio in
a few months so they can be around Amy and Dani Grace.  You
know, get involved and become a major part of their lives.
Amy cannot wait for them to move here."
   "You ever have a regular job, Jeremy?  I mean, I know you
have lots of money.  Lindsay says two billion dollars?  But
before you came into your money, did you have a normal job?"
   I chuckled.  "I was a _Kentucky Fried Chicken_ man myself
in high school, when I lived in New Jersey.  The colonel!
When I moved to California in 1992, I got a job washing and
polishing boats at the marina at Shoreline Village in Long
Beach.  Did that for a few years until I lucked into my...
financial windfall.  But working at the marina, that was
what made me first fall in love with the ocean."
   I changed lanes on the highway, and aimed for the
Sandvika exit.  Soon, we would be back home at the farm.
   "You were studying to be a schoolteacher, yes?" I asked,
to which she nodded.  "I remember Lindsay was thinking
about becoming a schoolteacher too, for a time, until she
finally opted for the ministry.  It was a toss-up.  You know,
Alison, you could continue your studies here in Norway if in
fact you decide to move here permanently."
   "I have every intention of moving here permanently," she
shot back, those words catching me off-guard.  "In my mind,
I already have."  Alison glanced over at me, suddenly a shy,
timid smile on her angelic face.  Oh God; she was blushing.
It was the very same blush that Lindsay had made famous!
Never once had I been able to deny that sweet-cheeks blush...
   "But I've spoken to Lindsay," Alison soon added, "and she
suggests that I eventually enroll at the university in Oslo.
Lindsay speaks very highly of it.  But I also want to get a
part-time job.  I don't want to just hang around the mansion
all day and live off of you, Jeremy, and the others.  That's
not my style; not how I was raised by my mom and dad."
   "Being a waitress here in Norway would be difficult for
you at first," I advised her.  "The food, what people like
here, is vastly different than what you would find in the
United States.  Plus, you'd have to learn the language and
know what all the main dishes are called."
   "Give me an example of a Norwegian meal?"
   "Hmmmmm.  Well, the last time Krissy and I had dinner at
her parents' house, her mom fixed pinnekjøtt for us."
   Alison stared at me blankly.  "What's that?"
   I chuckled.  "Smoked lamb.  It's a traditional holiday
favorite in this country.  You would have difficulty being a
waitress here, as I said.  But if you want a job so much, and
want to earn your keep, I'm sure we could find something on
the farm for you to do.  Krissy and Devon actually work a few
days a week in the ice cream parlor.  Well, not so much now,
since Krissy is eight months pregnant.  But they used to, at
least - especially before Kaden was born.  Actually, Krissy
started working in the ice cream parlor when she was 15, I
think - 11 years ago.  Her dad gave her that job."
   "But on the other hand," I quickly went on, "you don't 
HAVE to work, Alison.  Don't feel compelled to, quote, earn 
your keep.  Right now, you are a guest here.  You're Lindsay's 
sister.  If you go back to school, you should concentrate on 
that, and not worry about holding down a job."
   "Then how would I pay for school?"
   "I'd pay for your school, and any related expenses."
   She shrugged her shoulders.  "Duh.  Of course."
   Hmmmmm... time for another totally random, off the wall
question.  "Are you a dog or cat person?"
   "Oh, cats most definitely," Alison immediately responded.
"I miss my cat back in Ohio, Gunsmoke, so much."
   "Why didn't you bring him with you?"
   "He's the family cat," she said.  "Not technically mine.
Mom would have never allowed me to take him away from her."
   "Are you an early morning person or a late night person?"
   "Late night all the way," the blonde nodded.
   "And what is the one place in the world that you would 
most like to visit?  A dream vacation destination?"
   Alison hesitated, then bit her lip shyly.  "The island."
   I raised an eyebrow at her.  "The island?  My island?"
   "Yeah," she nodded.  "Lindsay has told me so much about
it over the years.  I'd love to see it for myself one day."
   I sighed.  "Well, if my wives can stop getting pregnant -
which seems highly unlikely at this point in time - and once 
the kids get a little older, we will definitely be taking
trips back to the island in the future."  I developed quite a
bold streak, saying, "I'd love for you to still be with us in
a couple of years, whenever that next trip happens."
   Alison shuddered, but smiled.  "So would I."
   We were now only about three minutes from the farm, but I
decided to take a detour and head toward the main part of
town.  I felt that the perfect capper for our little evening
out together would be a trip to _Dyrenes Storsenter Sandvika_.
Alison, I sensed, would surely appreciate it.
   "What are we doing at an animal clinic?" Alison asked, as
I got out of the _Jeep_.
   "You need to adopt a cat," I said, which caused her blue
eyes to grow wide as saucers.  "Or maybe a kitten."
   She too, exited the vehicle.  "Really?  Are you sure?"
   "We have six cats and four dogs roaming the house now," I
reminded her.  "Another is not going to hurt.  This one can
be your own personal cat."  I motioned toward the animal
shelter and hospital.  "This is the place where your sister 
found Shredder.  They have been best friends ever since."
   As we entered the clinic, I told her, "Take all the time
you want.  I'm in no rush.  Pick one out you really like."
   One thing I quickly realized about Alison was that she was
most definitely an animal lover.  Her heart was literally
melting before my very eyes as she browsed through the
collection of hamsters, rabbits, birds and dogs, most of
which were locked away in cages or behind a display glass.
All of them, of course, longing for a new home, companionship.
   When we got to the cats, I got the distinct feeling that
Alison wanted to take every single one of them home with us.
But, there was one feline that caught her eye.
   "Hi, little one."  The cat, a small, gray tabby kitten,
meowed in response and sat up from its bed of straw as Alison
poked a finger through the metal cage.  The kitten showed no
fear, stepping forward and rubbing itself against her finger.
"Oh, you are so precious!" Alison then gently swooned, adding
a second finger and gently caressing its back.
   I did not speak, taking in the sight of Alison and this
tender, little creature making an immediate, heart-to-heart
connection.  According to its paperwork beside the cage, the
kitten was female and a mere 11 weeks old.
   "I want this one, Jeremy," Alison finally admitted.  "Can
I get it?  Please?  Oh, she is so adorable."
   I moved my face in close toward the cage and reached
through it with a finger, tickling the kitten's face.  "Of
course you can get her."  Alison jumped and hopped about in
glee as I wondered, "So what's her name going to be?"
   Alison was, in fact, radiant.  Her face glowed with the
innocence of a child on Christmas morning.  It was, quite
honestly, the happiest I had ever seen her look thus far.
And it nearly took my breath away.
   Alison chewed her bottom lip and damnit, I feel a hot
surge of need suddenly swell within me.
   "How about Jeremymia?  Or..."
   "How about Cat?"
   "No!" Alison scolded me in that you-should-be-ashamed
mother's tone of voice.  "It has to be a real name.  This
kitty deserves a real name."
   "Jeremymia is NOT a real name," I advised her.
   "True, I guess."
   "I had a cousin named Abbie," I offered.  Where that came
from, I had no idea.  "She and I were close when I was young."
   "Abbie."  Alison said it out loud.  I could see the name
rolling around in her head.  She looked up at me, grinning
from ear to ear.  "It's perfect."  And before I had time to
let the idea soak in that there was a new kitten named Abbie
in the family, the animal shelter employee removed it from
its cage and took it over for processing while Alison hurled
herself toward me.  My arms instinctively went around her for
an embrace.  "Thank you, Jeremy!  Thank you so much!"
   I swallowed hard.  Outside of a few generic sister-in-law
hugs over the years, this was the first time that I really got
to hold Alison in my arms and feel her warmth.  And it was
amazing.  She was happy and bubbling.  Not so much because she
was in my arms, mind you, but because she had found a new pet.
My male pride took a hit, but hey, I was not about to complain.
   Alison finished her spontaneous hug and took a step back.
Her eyes moved over my face and she smiled knowingly.  "What
Lindsay and Trish told me about you is true.  You're a very
sweet and kind person."  Alison tilted her head to the side,
then glanced toward her new feline friend.  When the attendant
asked Alison if she wanted to hold the kitten, she literally
dropped everything and raced over to the processing booth.

                           * * *

   Sometime later on that very same evening, I slid open the
door to the master bedroom in the mansion and was surprised to
see three expectant faces staring back at me from the bed.
Had these three ladies been waiting for me to arrive home?
Interesting, not to mention a bit creepy...
   "What's going on?" I asked, suspicious.
   "What?" Pamela said, shrugging.  "We can't all sit on the
bed at once because we're tired?  It's been a taxing day."
   I looked back at her eerily.  "Highly improbable."  My
eyes drifted from Pamela to Kristanna and finally settled on
Devon, the most likely of the trio to divulge their scheme.
"What gives, Devon?  You can tell me."
   "Leave Devvy alone!" Kristanna shrieked.  "She's innocent!"
   "That's even more improbable."
   Devon appeared to have that deer-in-the-headlights look,
which told me all that I needed to know.  And it was just as
I had suspected, no less.  "So I'm guessing that the three of
you want to hear what happened on my date with Alison tonight?"
   BINGO.  Kristanna, Pamela and Devon all hopped up from the 
bed in unison and sprang into immediate action.
   "I'll get the cookies!" Devon literally shouted.  "Oh!
Krissy, get some of that key lime pie from the refrigerator."
   Pamela made a dash for the door.  "Coffee run."  She
pointed at me.  "Don't dare let him a say word without me!"
   "Don't worry, Pammy!" Kristanna shouted back.  "I'll duct
tape his mouth shut if need be!"
   "That seems a little extreme..." I said to no one, because
the three ladies were in a frantic rush to prepare for story
time.  I retired to a side chair and let them do their thing,
knowing full well that there was no way out of this for me.
   15 minutes later, with cookies, key lime pie and a pot of
coffee (and iced tea for the pregnant Kristanna), all of them
were snacking on the bed as I sat there alongside them.  Devon
adjusted her hair for no apparent reason and bounced about as
if she was an excited toddler.  "Okay.  We are ready for a
sexy tale now.  Let's start with where you and Alison ate."
   "_The Cod Squad_."
   Devon nodded.  "Oh, you must mean one of those little,
expensive seafood restaurants in downtown Oslo?  Very nice."
   "No," I corrected her.  "On a park bench facing the water
overlooking Oslofjorden."
   "Okay."  Devon seemed to truly wrestle with the thought.
Clearly, not what she expected.  "On a park bench, you say?"
   "On a park bench," I nodded.  "We bought cheese clam rolls,
french fries and bottled water from a food truck."
   "Interesting choice," Pamela said, exchanging a concerned
glance with her two counterparts.
   "Sounds cool to me," Kristanna shrugged.  "Unique."  There
was yet another dubious exchange of glances.
   "And that is exactly what it was," I told them in total
agreement.  "Cool.  Nice.  Fun.  Friendly."  I shook off the
unspoken judgment and wondered why I suddenly felt protective
of Alison and our short evening together.  Kristanna, Pamela
and Devon were acting like such _women_ right now...
   Devon's eyes sparkled with a newfound idea.  "Were you and
Alison, perhaps, LAYING on the bench?  Cuddling?  Did the
stars twinkle overhead and the ocean ripple, make those nice,
soothing sounds?  Is that what happened?"
   "I love it when water ripples," Kristanna said dreamily,
her chin in her hand.
   "Me too," Pamela agreed.  "Water ripples are so romantic.
Right up there with moonlit walks."
   Kristanna pointed at Pamela, adding fuel to their romantic
fire.  "Moonlit walks rock.  As do snow flurries."
   "Oh, I love snow flurries!  Because afterward you get to
come inside and get all nice and cozy, and then hot in other 
ways.  And then there are layers to take off."
   "Layers..." Kristanna moaned, nodding her head at Pamela.
"Layers provide so many sensual opportunities."
   Devon met my eyes and offered a sympathetic gaze as our 
two wives continued to discuss the romantic value of different
types of environments and their contribution to the ideal date
night.  Kristanna and Pamela could carry on all night long off 
of each other like this, so it was probably best I head this 
off now before the discussion got too far out of control.
   "There was water," I interrupted them.  "But I cannot
seem to recall it rippling the way you describe."
   "You need to pay attention to that kind of stuff a lot
more," Devon advised me.  It made perfect sense, as Devon
seemed to treasure the little things in life more than I did.
   "I'll try and work on that," I promised her.  "We also
stopped at the animal shelter and I bought a baby kitten for
Alison.  I let her pick it out."
   "Awwwww!" Devon swooned.  "Another kitty for us?  Oh, I
bet that made Alison so happy!"
   "Kitties are cute!" Kristanna beamed.
   Pamela leaned in, ready for more.  "Okay, so dinner on a
bench by way out of a food truck.  Was there at least a star
or two overhead?  A stop at the animal shelter.  And then?"
   "I brought her home."
   The bedroom fell into a frozen kind of silence.  Devon
leaned forward, clearly deflated.  "Wait.  That's it?  Did
you walk Alison to her bedroom?  Did you at least kiss her?"
   "PLEASE tell me that you kissed her!" Kristanna begged.
   "No, I did not.  Sorry to disappoint you."
   "No, no.  That's okay."  Kristanna eased back and sighed
in utter despair.  Pamela even brought a hand to Kristanna's
face in an effort to console her.  Good Lord, these women 
were something else!
   "Were you girls sitting around all night waiting for me to
come home, hoping to hear a juicy story?"
   "Pretty much," Pamela admitted.
   Kristanna pouted.  "You know how much all of us want you
and Alison to hit it off together."
   "Question," Devon said in a very serious tone.  "There may
not have been any kissing for you and Alison tonight, but what
are the chances of make-out sessions in the future?"
   I felt my cheeks warm and before I could control it, they
were a bright, crimson red.  That seemed to be all the answer
these three ladies needed as they clapped and cheered in wild
victory.  "Hey!  Wait.  I don't know.  I didn't say there
would be.  Alison is a really nice girl, and I had a good time
with her tonight.  I want to leave it at that."
   "You don't have to say anything," Devon grinned, patting
my legs with both hands rather excitedly.  "But I have a
feeling that one night, we're going to come across you and
Alison, and we won't be able to tear you away from her."
   "Well, could you blame me?"  Okay, I could play this game
too.  It was a little fun to listen to them gossip.
   "And we have liftoff!" Kristanna clamored, popping a piece
of delicious chocolate chip cookie into her mouth.  After the
laughter died down, everyone seemed to fall into their normal
pre-bedtime routines.  Having missed out on seeing any of my
children tonight, I decided to go the various nurseries in
the mansion and pay each of their cribs individual visits.

                           * * *

   I blinked against the darkness all around me.
   Disoriented for a split-second, I realized that I must
have just woken up from a peaceful slumber here in bed.  The
digital alarm clock next to me displayed 2:46 in bright
green numbers.  I felt my six wives and one fiancee, warm
and snuggled, in the bed all around me.  Even Shredder was
snoozing at my feet.  Everyone was out cold, except for me.  
It was, after all, the middle of the freaking night.
   I sat up slowly and exhaled a deep breath.  My throat was
dry.  I turned to the bottled water that I typically kept on
the nightstand by the bed, but found it empty.  One of the
girls probably finished it off without asking me beforehand,
which was fine.  With a deep sigh, I raked all ten fingers
throughout my hair and gingerly got out of bed.
   Still not fully awake, I meandered through the dark house
with eyes half open in search of cool, refreshing ice water.
I was only vaguely aware that less than 12 hours from now, I
would be preparing for my wedding with Scarlett.  It was not
until I neared the kitchen that I noticed the glow of a very 
dim light.  Blinking so my bleary eyes could properly adjust, 
I realized that it was the refrigerator light.
   Standing there, in pajama pants and a pink cami top, was
Alison.  Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in messy,
lackadaisical waves.  She looked like an angel to me, standing
in the kitchen, sent from the high heavens.
   Alison turned at the sound of me approaching.  "Couldn't
sleep," she offered in explanation, gesturing toward the jug
in her hand.  "Sweet apple cider."
   I did not say anything.  Instead, I filled a glass with ice
cubes, then water from the faucet, and drank generously before
turning back to Alison.  Her eyes were very pretty.  The blue
popped brightly, magnificently, in the slash of moonlight.  Oh,
and those lips looked awesome, and very enticing.
   "You have trouble sleeping too?" Alison wondered.
   "Yeah," I managed to say, still utterly transfixed by how
beautiful Alison looked.  But to be more specific, I was still
wondering about that sweet, little mouth.  What would it feel
like against mine, opening beneath it?  What would it taste
like?  Was her tongue soft and velvety?  Maybe hours of sleep
had dulled my restraint and better judgment, but I seriously
had to find out the answers to those questions.  In that one
moment, nothing could have stopped me from kissing Alison any
more than I could have stopped myself from breathing.
   As I moved closer and dipped my head, Alison searched my
face curiously with her eyes.
   "Jeremy, are you okay?  What are you..."
   But that was all Alison managed to get out before my lips 
were on hers, seeking out what I had so desperately craved, 
quite honestly, for nearly three years.  To kiss this girl.
To feel her in my arms, to bathe in her beauty.
   Startled at first, Alison seemed to brace against my
needful kiss and place one hand on my chest, involuntarily
pushing backward.  But a fraction of a second later, the push
disintegrated.  I softened and met her there, giving myself
over to the kiss in the most wonderful way.  That hand on my
chest slipped upward and then wrapped around the nape of my 
neck, and Alison pulled me in closer.  As my mouth moved 
against hers, her lips parting to accept me, Alison squealed 
and moaned in response.  She moved both hands to my chin and 
held it in place while kissing me hungrily, slowly, deeply.
   And God, that kiss was awesome.
   Better and more fulfilling than I would have ever imagined.
Considering the circumstances and the fact that Alison was my
wife's sister, this may well have been better than any other
kiss I had received before.  I could not get enough of it.
   Alison moved up on her tip-toes for better access, and in
the process her breasts squished hard into my chest, sending
my entire body to places hot and deep before it stiffened
with an aching arousal.  I did not want to stop.  I did not
want this to end.  But it was too much, the physical strain.
Lust swirled all throughout me like a raging inferno and I 
had to seize back control, re-claim my sanity.
   Slowing the kiss, I traced my tongue along the bottom of
Alison's lip, tasting the delicious sweetness of the apple
cider long since forgotten.  Finally, I withdrew my mouth
entirely and caressed Alison's cheek with my thumb and
forefinger, now acutely aware that I was wild and crazy for
this girl.  She was ready to give herself to me.
   "God, Jeremy..." Alison managed, staring up at me.
   I stared at her in wanderlust, trying to come up with a
suitable explanation.  But without saying another word, I
removed myself from the situation before I did something
that I may soon regret.  Would I pay for that kiss later?
It was much too early in our supposed relationship for me
to be _coming onto_ Alison and imposing my will on her like
this.  I was well more than twice her age!
   On the other hand, though, there would have been no way
around it.  I needed that kiss even more than I needed the
ice water that I had originally set out to retrieve.  So for
tonight, I would revel in the tantalizing exchange I had
shared with Alison in the kitchen.  Dream about it.  The
world and its consequences could wait until the morning.
   I turned and scurried off toward the bedroom, and the
sanctity of my six wives, as well as Scarlett.  Indeed,
Scarlett and I were getting married later tonight.  But all
I could think about right now was Alison.  My heart was
pounding within my chest and I brought a pair of fingers to 
my still-sensitive lips as I climbed back into bed.
   Sleep certainly did not come easy.  I tossed and turned in
bed, wide-eyed and awake, examining the encounter from every
possible angle, struggling to make sense of what had easily
been the most unexpected and hottest 60 seconds of my life.
I actually got hard and began stroking myself, shifting about
uncontrollably, as I recalled the softness of Alison's lips
when they were pressed to mine.  I could still feel the full
effect of her tongue touching mine down to my very core.  It
was tantalizingly awesome and horrifically wrong, all wrapped
up together in the same event.
   I exhaled and even let out a whine, staring at the ceiling.
Oh, the myriad of emotions that were going through me now...
   It was going to be a very long night.


                <<<- End of Chapter 05 ->>>


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"Island Fever 5: Family"

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