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|| ------------------- Island Fever ------------------- ||
|| -------------------- An erotic story ------------------ ||
|| --------------------- M/F, F/F and a lot more ----------------- ||
|| ---------------------- Written by JeremyDCP ---------------- ||
|| ----------------------- Copyright (c) 2014 --------------- ||
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Chapter 4: "Burlesque" --------------------------------------------------
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Dear Applicant,
Thank you for your interest in Project: Island Fever. My
name is Jeremy and, as the overseer of this program, I am
extremely pleased that you would like more information on
spending six weeks of your life with me on the island that I
call home in the South Pacific. To begin the application
process, I respectfully request that you fill out the basic
information sheet that you see below and mail it back to me
by no later than December 31, 2012. If there are any
questions that you prefer not to answer (or do not know the
answer to), you may simply leave them blank.
Once your basic information sheet is received, it will be
evaluated and reviewed and, if it meets certain criteria,
you will receive a more detailed application and accompanying
questionnaire in the mail by no later than January 21, 2013.
If you are one of the (only) six women who are ultimately
chosen to take part in Project: Island Fever, you will be
compensated for your time, effort and energy at no less than
$100,000 USD. Much more information concerning compensation
and what will be expected of you is available in the 19 page
booklet that was also included in this mailing.
If, for whatever reason, you are no longer interested in
taking part in this project, simply discard this letter and
do not respond. You will not be contacted/bothered again. I
hope that you are interested, though, and that you take the
time to fill out the following information sheet and send it
back to me at the return address listed on the previous page.
Remember, the deadline date is December 31, 2012!
Thank you --- Jeremy [Last Name]
Please answer the questions below in your own words:
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FULL NAME: Devon Marie [Last Name]
ADDRESS: [Street Address]
[City Name], PA [Zip Code]
HOME TELEPHONE: (835)xxx-xxxx
CELL TELEPHONE: (835)xxx-xxxx
E-MAIL ADDRESS: [Username]@gmail.com
BIRTHDATE: 3/28/1986 ZODIAC SIGN: Aries
WHERE BORN: Allentown, PA
FATHER NAME: Dennis
MOTHER NAME: Madeline
BROTHERS AND SISTERS, NAMES AND AGES:
Patricia - 30, Michael - 24, Seth - 22
PETS - WHAT KINDS AND NAMES:
Three cats (Gizmo, Sassy and Jasmine)
And a baby kitten - named BOO
HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATE?: Yes
DID/ARE YOU ATTEND/ING COLLEGE?: Yes
IF YES, WHERE?: Kutztown University (Kutztown, PA)
ARE YOU STILL ATTENDING?: No
DID YOU GRADUATE?: Yes (2008)
COLLEGE DEGREE?: Yes - in Project Management
EMPLOYED AS: Project Manager
EMPLOYED WHERE: [Company Name] in Laureldale, PA
LENGTH OF EMPLOYMENT: Four years
MOST PREVIOUS JOB (IF ANY): Department store clerk
--- PERSONAL STATISTICS ---
HEIGHT: 5-3 COLOR HAIR: Blonde
WEIGHT: 105 COLOR EYES: Blue
SHIRT SIZE: Small
DRESS SIZE: Small
TROUSER, IN-SEAM:
SHOE SIZE: 6-1/2
MEASUREMENTS: 34D-22-32
RING SIZE:
--- FAVORITES ---
ACTOR: Brad Pitt
ACTRESS: Sarah Michelle Gellar
SINGER: Richard Marx
FOOD: French fries and burritos
CITY: New York
COUNTRY (OTHER THAN USA):
ANIMAL: Cat
FLOWER: Ginger
CAR: _Porsche 911 Cabriolet Carrera_ convertible
TV SHOW: _The X-Files_
MOVIE: _9-1/2 Weeks_
PERFUME: Giorgio COLOR: Hot Pink
STYLE OF CLOTHES: Tight, cute, sexy
FAVORITE EVENING ON THE TOWN (DESCRIBE IN DETAIL):
I like to get dressed up and have dinner at
a nice restaurant that takes a long time.
Curling up with my man on the sofa and
watching an old horror movie would be the
perfect capper for the evening.
WHAT QUALITIES DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A MALE/FEMALE?:
Honesty, responsibility, good looks, nice
build and very loving.
DESCRIBE YOUR CURRENT FANTASY IN DETAIL:
I want to be a _Playboy_ centerfold or a
_Penthouse_ Pet! j/k! Honestly, my fantasy
is to meet the perfect man, fall madly in
love with him and get married and eventually
have a big, happy family.
MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:
Accidentally losing my bikini top while
swimming at a public beach... OOOPS!
LIST SOME PREFERRED HOBBIES:
Dancing, jet and snow skiing, swimming,
bicycling, rollerblading, listening to music
PLEASE GIVE A BRIEF SUMMARY OF YOURSELF AS A PERSON:
I am a very friendly and outgoing person. I
enjoy meeting new people and I treat anyone
who is good to me like pure gold. I love
life in general and want the world to be a
very happy and peaceful place. My ultimate
dream is to always be happy and have a
wonderful family of my own someday soon!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ever since the time I had spent with her last evening at
the cliffs overlooking the ocean, Devon was at the front and
center of my mind. The mere thought of her - and the many,
wondrous possibilities that may lie ahead for us if we indeed
chose to pursue a relationship - had overtaken my senses.
And why not? Everything about Devon seemed so very special.
The time was 8:39am on this luxurious Wednesday morning
when I found myself seated at the computer terminal here
within the sanctuary of my private suite. I could not stop
thinking about Devon. I wanted to know more about her. I
wanted to know _everything_ there was to know about Devon.
Thus, I had brought up a scanned image of the very first
questionnaire Devon had filled out when inquiring about the
island last year. Her cursive handwriting and its letters
were big, round and bubbled, and very appealing to my eyes.
I had read not only Devon's, but the questionnaires for all
six of the ladies here on the island hundreds of times over
the past five to six months. I never grew tired of them.
I still found it difficult to believe that a woman so
very heavenly and radiant - like Devon most certainly was -
could have such a sudden interest in a normal, ordinary man
like me. Even more surprising was the simple fact that Devon
seemed to be extremely straightforward and direct with those
feelings. She was not afraid to pull any punches.
Never once had I thought of myself as a very desirable
person in any sense of the imagination. Why would a woman
such as Devon - who could literally have her choice of
anyone - want to be with me? It did not make sense to me.
Or perhaps I should give myself a little more credit?
Maybe, but the many years of solitude here on the island had
dulled and jaded my senses - as well as my confidence -
beyond all reasonable proportions. No one could spend 17
years on a remote island with minimal contact from the rest
of civilization - like I have - and not feel the way I do.
I have my reasons for shielding myself from others.
Still, it was time for me to accept the fact that Devon
did harbor some very true and bona-fide feelings for me. I
still may not understand why, but maybe I should not even
concern myself with such negative thoughts anymore. The
fact of the matter was that Devon already loved me.
Isn't that what I have wanted throughout my entire life?
Ever since Victoria, my ex-fiancee, left me standing at the
altar some 19 years ago (and shattered the person that I am
inside as a result), I have yearned for someone to share my
life with. Could that someone turn out to be Devon?
Telling someone (or blatantly insinuating, as Devon had)
that you love them just a day or two after meeting for the
first time probably would not be the smartest thing to do.
However, I saw nothing wrong with having such feelings, even
at an early relationship stage. I have certainly felt that
way about others in the past. That is strictly my opinion,
of course. Others may feel differently.
The flip-side of Devon, of course, was Pamela. Did Pamela
have those same type of feelings for me? Was Pamela in love
with me, too? Certainly, Pamela was the one woman of the
entire group whom I had focused the most amount of energy
and attention on thus far. Pamela was still my favorite (if
I allowed myself to have one), but Devon was a close second.
Of course, I was not discounting Amy, either. Perhaps
she had feelings for me as well? I certainly had feelings
for Amy two nights ago, when she showed up at my door in her
little blouse and miniskirt, and those awesome high-heels,
and proceeded to tease me into bed like no woman ever had
before. There were certainly good vibrations between Amy and
yours truly yesterday morning when I was holding hands with
her as we made our way to the breakfast table. At that
moment, at least, we could have continued walking right to
a wedding chapel, and I would have been forever happy.
Lindsay? The emotion and the sheer, physical desire I
felt for Lindsay was quickly careening out of control.
Though I was more than twice her age (what a _pain_ it is for
me to admit that), could I envision myself one day settling
down with Lindsay and having a family with her?
What about Trish? Trish had been my favorite even before
I met any of the ladies face-to-face. The conversations we
shared together through various forms of chat (telephone,
video, even text clients) always seemed to brighten my day
in the time leading up to the ladies' arrival here on the
island. Trish always seemed so peppy and lively, and nothing
but raw, positive energy literally oozed from her.
Perhaps the best way for me to describe Trish would be to
say that she was more than a woman. She was _beyond_ woman.
Trish was, very simply, a _chick_. A very cool and likable
chick who, if she so desired, could have the whole, wide
world at her fingertips. But Trish was not selfish. The
30-year-old was very kind and giving; generally the type of
sincere, genuine individual who typically only came around
once in a lifetime. Could I allow Trish to slip through my
grasp, and lose any possible chance of a relationship with
her? Even more importantly, was Trish even interested in me?
She was, for all intents and purposes, the exact opposite
of me. Or, in other terms, this Maple Leaf beauty from
Toronto was the type of person that I wanted to be. Others
naturally gravitated toward Trish, even if they did not have
the privilege of knowing her first. Her amicable, friendly
demeanor drew me to her like a magnet. What better way for
me to improve my general outlook on life than by aligning
myself with the pure definition of zest and spirit? Trish
seemed like the ideal match for me in every sense of the
imagination, though our time together thus far been limited.
Yes, there is a point I am _trying_ to make with all of
this rambling. This was just the ladies' third day on the
island. They would be here for a total of 42 days. Thus,
there was a voice inside my head asking me if I had jumped
the gun, so to speak, a little too soon. Was it really smart
to anoint any of these women as my hopeful bride just yet?
All of them (Camille included) had traits and qualities
that were near and dear to my heart. Devon even stated last
evening that each of them (sans Camille) was attracted to me
in some form or another. And who knows? As strange and as
unpredictable as my life has been thus far, perhaps Camille
would ultimately turn out to be _the one_ for me?
So, I came to the sudden conclusion that I was going to
try and harness my emotions toward all of these girls - if
just for a week or two. Oh, I would still get excited and
rambunctious in their presence. I may even make myself look
like a fool with the things I say or do in front of them. I
would most certainly come across as too straightforward and
rigid in certain circumstances.
However, I was going to try my absolute best to refrain
from hearing the wedding bells jingle in my head every single
time after I had sex with one of these ladies. It was not
healthy for me and, of much greater importance, it was not
fair for me to give them any false pretenses.
* * *
My thoughts of over-analyzation were interrupted as a
gentle knock came to the front door of my private bedroom.
My shaft began to rustle about within my shorts as I wondered
which of the ladies had decided to pay me an early morning
visit. Could it be Amy? Perhaps a repeat of Monday night
was in order? Did Amy require some more hard loving? If so,
I was certainly more than willing to lend a helping hand.
As things turned out, it was not Amy. That was not a bad
thing, mind you, considering the person standing on the
opposite side of the entranceway once I opened the door was
none other than the vivacious and alluring Devon.
Adorned in a classy, loose-fitting summer dress that went
all the way down to mid-calf, Devon's blue eyes flashed as
she offered me a friendly smile. The dress that she wore was
a predominantly dark color, but had decorative, flower-print
designs all over it. Devon looked absolutely beautiful.
"Hi stranger!"
"Why, hello Devon," I said in response. "What do I owe
the pleasure of your company to this morning?" I looked at
my wristwatch and noticed that it was 8:46am. Less than
eight hours ago, Devon and I finally made our way back to
the mansion after the bicycle ride that eventually turned
into an after-hours hike. Of course, I could not forget
the rip-roaring sexual encounter we shared in-between.
Devon clutched both hands together at her stomach and
looked down for an instant, while twirling a sandal-clad
foot about upon the carpet. She then made eye contact with
me and proclaimed, "I had a really fun time with you last
night, Jeremy. I just... I just wanted you to know that.
I haven't had so much fun in a long, long time."
I smiled at her. "It sure was an incredible evening. I
had a wonderful time with you as well."
Devon stepped closer and wrapped both arms around my body
in a friendly, leisurely manner. She placed the side of her
face upon my chest and held it there for several seconds,
perhaps listening to the sound of my heartbeat. "I should
have took you up on your offer last night, too."
"Oh?" I countered, my hands now on her shoulders.
Devon ended the embrace and looked directly up at me. "I
should have spent the night with you here, in your room."
"There will be other nights," I assured her.
She shook her head and murmured, "I was thinking Camille
would have been awake, waiting for me, in our guest room.
She knew that I wanted to go out and do something with you
last night. I was positive that she would have been there
waiting... wanting to know what happened between us." Devon
paused for a moment, then continued, "That wasn't the case at
all. Instead of Camille, I found Pamela in my room."
"Pamela?" I said, confused. "What was she doing there?"
Devon giggled. "Apparently, the story goes that Amy and
Camille began drinking last night and got really, really
tipsy and light-headed. They started making out with each
other and were soon having wild, passionate sex. Because
they were drunk, Pamela wanted no part of it. She left them
in her and Amy's room, then snuck into the room I share with
Camille and tried to get some sleep." Devon snickered again
and added, "Pamela claimed that the sounds and screams each
of them made kept her awake for more than an hour. In fact,
Pamela said, things had just settled down between Amy and
Camille about ten minutes before I showed up. So... long
story short, I shared a room with Pamela last evening."
"Did you two... talk at all?"
Devon nodded her head. "For a bit, yes. I told her that
you and I wound up going on a _date_, among other things."
"Oh? What did she have to say about that?" The possible
answer to that question worried me, and for good reason.
Early that afternoon, Pamela and I had sex together in the
library. We were making promises and insinuations of true
commitment to each other all throughout. Hours later,
Pamela learned, I was having sex with Devon underneath the
brilliant fusion of the setting sun at dusk. Indeed, what
was Pamela's response to that little tidbit of information?
"She really didn't have anything to say," Devon replied.
"I told her that we went on a bike ride. One thing led to
another, I told her, and you and I wound up having sex."
Devon snickered in a playful manner and added, "She did
seem a bit jealous. I bet Pamela wishes that that it was
her with you, instead of me."
"Jealous, huh?" Hmmmmm. I wondered if Pamela would be
angry at me. Would there be any sort of resentment? This
was why I had to curb my emotions in relation to the ladies
somewhat. I could not start envisioning my future bride
every time I sunk my cock into one of them. Nor could I
talk and strongly hint at the possibilities with them. It
was not fair. I had, in essence, led Pamela on.
"What about Trish and Lindsay?" Ahhhhh yes, Lindsay...
my sweet, little, wholesome, virgin girl. I was curious
what her and her room-mate, Trish, had been up to. "Do
you know if they did anything... special... last night?"
Devon shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think so. Pamela
told me that Lindsay was still feeling a bit of jet-lag from
the airline flight here. She said that Lindsay went to bed
around 9:45 or so. I guess Trish called it a night shortly
thereafter. Both of them were fast asleep when I peeked in
on them around two o'clock in the morning."
Concerned, I found myself lost in thought for a moment or
two. "If Lindsay isn't feeling better today, I am going to
talk to a doctor friend of mine over in Peru and get her some
specialized medication express delivered here."
"I think she will be fine," Devon offered. "It was her
first time ever on an airplane. All she needs is time. I
bet Lindsay will feel a million times better today."
"Let's hope so," I sighed.
"How was your night?" Devon inquired, her blue eyes again
flashing. My God, those eyes were so pretty...
"It'd been much better if you were here to spend it with
me, sweetheart. Instead, I had to spend it all alone."
Devon reached out and placed her right hand upon my chest
and even offered a tiny pout to boot. "Oh, you poor baby."
I chuckled at her response. "Heh... I was all right. I
was so tired that I probably fell asleep 30 seconds after
lying down on the mattress. I woke up... 20 minutes ago?"
Her hand still upon my chest, I grasped it with one of my
own and brought it to my lips for a gentle, whispery kiss.
Those amazing eyes of hers were just beaming with delight.
Devon looked so much at peace, so at ease, right now.
"Mind if I hang out with you for a bit before breakfast?"
was her simple request. "It's not even nine o'clock yet,
and breakfast isn't until ten."
"It would be my pleasure," I answered, stepping aside and
motioning with my free hand for her to come into the suite.
Devon strolled into the room and took a seat in a wicker
chair near the big bed. "You told me a little about your
past and your family last night, Jeremy. Tell me more?"
"Ask me a specific question, and I will answer it." I
sat down next to her and asked, "What do you want to know?"
Devon thought things over for a brief moment, then nodded
her head. "Talk to me about your dad, your mom..."
"My father is age 74 and lives in Los Angeles with his
girlfriend," I began. "He is in really good shape and
wants to keep working, even though I wish he would have
retired a couple of years ago so he could relax for a bit.
He says he will keep working until his employer forces him to
retire. He is the inventory manager for an automobile parts
depot in California. He and my mother, who lives in Ohio,
have been separated for 15 years. They got married in 1959.
My mom was with him for so long that she does not want anyone
new in her life. You cannot blame her for that. She is 72
and unlike my father, has a lot of physical problems."
"Like what?"
"Nothing life-threatening, thank God," I answered. "Just
the wear and tear of 72 years. And the fact that she never
had a job, never got any exercise. I know she takes like
eight or nine different types of medicine every single day.
But she seems to be doing good."
"Pamela was saying that you have brothers and sisters..."
"Two brothers and one sister," I corrected her. "Dan, my
oldest brother, is married and lives in Ohio with his wife
and their adopted daughter, Hope. Dan had cancer back in
1995, and it zapped his body of any chance to have kids. So
they turned to adoption and got Hope ten-plus years ago."
"I have a friend back home in Pennsylvania who adopted a
little boy," Devon offered. "He is so cute!"
"Hope, their daughter, came from a really bad situation
before my brother and his wife took her in."
"How so?"
"Her biological mother, who lived in Cleveland, I guess,
wanted nothing to do with her. When she was an infant, her
mother would go out and do her thing - whatever it was - and
leave Hope unattended on the sofa all day long."
Suddenly, Devon was about to cry. "THAT'S AWFUL!"
"The biological mother was a drug addict, an alcoholic.
She was totally unfit to be a parent. At six months old,
Hope was in the hospital. She had no muscular development
whatsoever. Hope just laid there, limp. The state stepped
in and took her away. Dan and Susan adopted her when she
was 22 months old. At that time, she was more than a year
behind than most babies. Hope could barely walk and knew
little, if any, words. It was like she was nine months old."
Devon did not seem all that enthused. Who wanted to be
told specifics about a neglected child? However, there
was a light at the end of this tunnel. So, I forged on.
"My brother and his wife have taken wonderful care of her.
I visited Ohio when they first got custody of her. Eight
months later, I went back for the adoption hearing in court.
It was like night and day. Hope was running and bouncing
about, all happy and giggling, communicating. They have been
a Godsend for her. She couldn't be in a better situation."
"Still, Hope has lingering problems," I continued. "She
has balance and sensory issues. She just turned 12, and had
training wheels on her bicycle until last summer. That was
six years worth of training wheels, so that may give you an
idea of her balance problems. And for whatever reason, the
girl is scared of soap and shampoo. She throws an absolute
fit when it is bath-time. The local school board evaluated
her, though, and let her go into general classes with all of
the other kids. She didn't have to take special education
courses. I need to get up there and visit my family again."
"It's great that Hope has a good home now," Devon mused.
"What about your other brother, and your sister?"
"Dan is age 49. My sister, Di, is age 52, and my other
brother, Steve, is 48. Di still lives in Ohio, just like
Dan. She is married and has three children - Tommy, who is
23 and already married himself, Chelsea, age 22 and Jeff,
who is 18. Steve, on the other hand... he lives in Kentucky
with his wife, and their two daughters. The oldest is named
Stephanie, who is 14. Their other daughter, Autumn, is age
ten. Steve has been in a lot of trouble with the law ever
since he was a teen-ager. He got involved with a bad crowd
when he was in high school, and never recovered."
"Has he been to jail?"
I frowned. "Yes, several times. I know Steve got into a
fight with some guy over some girl many years ago, and beat
him up bad. He went to jail for that. I also know when he
was younger, Steve and a bunch of his friends stole a car
and took it down to the river, then blew it up. They thought
that was funny, and it landed him in jail too. He has really
been in trouble a countless number of times. I was a kid -
age five - when he first got into trouble, and my parents
tried to shield me from that. So I don't know everything."
"Why did he blow up a car?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said, I guess Steve and
his friends thought it was funny. A policeman was driving
by at the time, though, and saw it happen. All of them were
arrested on the spot. That was many, many years ago."
"Steve sounds like the complete opposite of you, Jeremy,"
Devon said. "I could never imagine you doing anything bad."
She paused and added, "Your whole family, except for your
father, lives in Ohio. Steve is from Kentucky, right? I am
guessing all of them are from the general Cincinnati area.
Why aren't you there with them? You're 5,000 miles away."
The thought of Victoria - my ex-fiancee - went dashing
throughout my mind as I pouted again. "I have my reasons."
Knowing that I wanted to keep our conversation positive, I
decided to change the subject rather abruptly by saying,
"What about you, Devon? Tell me about your family."
This time, it was Devon's turn to frown. "There isn't
much to tell, really. I moved out of the house at an early
age because it seemed as if my mom and dad did not want me
in their lives anymore. Over the years, it got to the point
where I would only see them during birthdays and holidays.
Last year, though, I skipped Thanksgiving and Christmas. I
didn't want to be with them because I never felt welcome."
"Why is that?" I asked, curious.
Devon sighed and answered, "I have my reasons, too."
Fair enough, I said to myself. I did not want to talk
about my ex-fiancee, Victoria, with Devon just yet. She did
not want to offer details about an apparent rift with her
parents. Perhaps in due time, Devon and I would have enough
comfort and trust that we would be sharing darker, more
personal details about ourselves with each other.
"I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with my grandparents
last year," Devon told me. "They have always been supportive
of me. Very loving, too. I have wonderful grandparents."
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked, though I
already knew the answer to that question. I knew a lot about
Devon and all of the other ladies, mainly thanks to all those
questionnaires they filled out for me several months ago.
Plus, I had detailed files on all of them.
"I am the second of four children," Devon responded. "My
sister, Patricia, is the oldest. She is very, very smart.
Patricia got a scholarship after graduating from high school
to go to _Penn State University_." Devon sighed and added,
"She was always my parents' favorite. Nowadays, Patricia is
married and has two kids. I am SOOOOO jealous of her."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you jealous of Patricia?
What possible reason do you have to be jealous of anyone?"
"Because I have always wanted to be married - to be a
wife, a mother," Devon breathed. "To be... happy."
"Why aren't you married, then? Why don't you have any
children? Surely a woman as beautiful and as nice as you
most obviously are can have her pick of any man."
Devon forced a smile at my kind words. "I... got involved
with this really bad guy named Barrett. I was with him for
eight years. He treated me badly, cheated on me with other
women. I... I cared about him, I guess, and I wanted it to
work. But it got to the point between us where I knew it
would never work. So, I dumped him. I actually came home
from work early one day, and found Barrett in OUR bed with
Tabitha, who I thought was my best friend. That was it. I
dumped him on the spot and cut Tabitha out of my life, too."
"How could ANYONE cheat on you?"
Devon shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It has
been almost a year since I broke up with him." Devon giggled
and twirled her head about. "Since coming here to your
island, I have had sex with Camille a couple of times. I was
also with Amy, but that was during a three-some with Camille
involved, too. That was so wild! So wild, and so fun! Now,
I've been with you, too, Jeremy That is three people in
three days here." Devon hesitated before admitting, "Before
the island, I had sex with two people - Barrett, and an old
boyfriend from high school named Tim. Two lone people in 13
years, compared to three in three days. Today it's still
early... I guess it's three in two days, actually."
"Are you complaining?"
"Oh no!" Devon gushed. "Not at all! In fact, I love it
here. This is like a fantasy world for me. I have been
curious about other women since I was a schoolgirl, but was
never with one in a sexual sense because I was way too
afraid to approach any and ask them out. Here, on the
island, all of the women are just like me. I don't have to
be worried about being embarrassed or humiliated, rejected,
like I would back home if I asked a woman out. This island
is wonderful. I love it!" Devon planted a soft kiss on my
cheek and cooed, "Plus, our host is a real sweetheart."
Once again, I felt myself blushing beet-red because of
something that Devon had said to me. She was obviously not
afraid to speak her mind. I wanted her to open up even more.
"You told me about Patricia," I said. "You said you are
the second of four children. Tell me about the others."
"My two brothers - Michael and Seth," Devon answered. "I
really do not see either of them that much. Michael still
lives at home with mom and dad, and Seth goes to college at
_West Virginia University_. He is an athlete there. I have
not seen him since Christmas. I have not seen Michael or my
parents since my last birthday, which was March 28th. Today
is what... June 5th? I met them, as well as my sister and
her husband and kids, at a restaurant in a small town in
Pennsylvania called Shillington. My grandparents were there
too, obviously. I got the sense, even though it was my
birthday, that my mom and dad did not want to be there. I
think that Patricia kind of strong-armed them into going to
the restaurant since it was my 27th birthday. I haven't seen
them since. I... I haven't even TALKED to my parents since
that day. The sad thing is, they only live three miles from
where I do. I have no relationship with them whatsoever."
Devon held back tears as she continued, "When I was in the
hospital for two full nights a couple of years ago, because I
was sick, they did not even come to visit me..."
"What is the problem between you and your parents?"
Devon frowned and took a deep breath. "I rather not talk
about it. Not yet, anyway. It is too personal."
Not wanting to push or prod her any further, I nodded my
head and decided to drop the subject. "Very well, then."
Devon stood up and slipped both of her arms around my neck
and shoulders for yet another heartfelt embrace. "I like
this, Jeremy. I do. Barrett would never hold me in his
arms and talk to me like you are right now. Holding me,
talking to me... you're making me feel so special." Devon
caressed the back of my neck with her long fingernails and
purred, "I could REALLY get used to this. Everything that I
know about you so far, Jeremy, I like. Everything."
"The feeling is mutual," I offered, running my fingers
throughout her exquisite, long-flowing blonde hair. "I like
everything I know about you too, Devon. But I want to know
more. I want to know everything. In due time... hopefully."
"I am very open and honest - brutally honest - when I
feel as if I can trust someone," Devon informed me. "If we
progress in our relationship and continue to move forward,
you will know EVERYTHING about me. That is one of my faults
in life. I'm too honest, too open about myself with others.
But I can't help it. I've always been that way. I... I
just want to hold back about my parents and the problems I
have with them for now. It is my big secret in life."
"It's not a fault at all," I mused. "I can be the same
way, Devon. What you need is someone who will be equally
open and honest with you. That person could be me."
Devon smiled at me. "I would like that very much."
"Whenever you are comfortable talking about your family
issues, Devon - if that day comes - I will gladly listen to
you," I advised her. "I will not judge or look down on you
in any fashion whatsoever. If there was a way for me to help
you and make things better, I would. Trust me on that."
"I will remember that," Devon promised me.
* * *
I could have stayed in my personal suite and spoken to
Devon for hours on end, but I had to eventually remind her
(as well as myself) that breakfast was being served at
10:00am. I escorted Devon to the formal dining room, where
we found all of the ladies gathered together at the table a
few minutes before the top of the hour. A smile came to my
face as a result, because I wanted this to be the routine,
normal time that all of us got together each and every
morning for breakfast. It was excellent to know that my
lovely female guests were punctual and prompt.
"I'm going with Trish, Lindsay and Amy on a nature hike
today," Camille said to not only me, but Pamela and Devon as
well, here at the breakfast table. She turned toward those
two and asked, "Either of you like to tag along with us?"
"I was going to do some more reading in the library,"
Pamela answered. "You know how I am with books. I am in
the middle of a mystery novel and am dying to see how it
turns out." She turned toward Devon and mused, "How about
you? You should go along on the nature hike."
Devon glanced my way for an instant before saying to
Pamela, "Oh, I don't know." She looked at me once again,
then back at Pamela. "I have to finish unpacking my
luggage, believe it or not." Was Devon being truthful to
Pamela and the others? Or did she have another _date_ with
me planned? If so, I was not aware of it. "I want to get
all of my clothing unpacked and hung up properly."
"My ears still hurt from that damn flight," Amy quipped.
"I know what you mean!" Lindsay squealed. "I still feel
tired from it myself. Of course, I really don't like being
in airplanes. That may have something to do with it. Was
it your first time in the air, Amy?"
"No, but it's been awhile," she replied. "I went on a
family vacation to Cancun when I was 11. I did not like
flying then, and I certainly do not like it any more now.
My ears felt like they were going to pop the whole trip."
"Mine too!" Pamela frowned.
"Are you feeling better today, though, Lindsay?" I asked
her. "Would you like me to have some medicine choppered in
for you? I heard you were feeling quite bad last night."
"I'm better now," she assured me. "I'm not 100 percent,
but I'm better. Another day or two, and I'll be fine."
"What about you, Jeremy?" Trish suddenly chimed in. "Do
you have any plans at all for today?"
"Oh, I don't know quite yet. I'm sure that I will think
of something." Yes... something. Like spying on the ladies
with the help of the voyeur room? "I can always stay busy
inside my suite. A lot of work goes into making sure all of
you girls have smiles on your faces at all times."
"What do you mean?" Camille inquired, curious.
"Everything. I have to make sure we have enough food and
supplies to last us each week, because the delivery boat only
comes once a week - Friday. I check the Internet to see if
there are any new music CDs or movies that come out on DVD
that I think one of you ladies may be interested in. I check
weather reports and advisories at least two or three times
each day. None are on the way now, but we are guaranteed
three or four nasty rainstorms, along with thunder and
lightning, before these six weeks are up. NASTY storms."
"I hate storms," Lindsay sulked. "Especially lightning!"
"There's been nothing but sunshine and warm weather since
we arrived on Monday," Amy observed. "But I guess I can see
where an island like this - in the tropics near the equator -
could get its fair share of bad weather."
"It will rain once, twice a week, on average," I told her.
"But we'll get three or four good, torrential downpours, too.
Really good ones; much worse than anything any of you have
ever seen before. Be prepared... because they will come. I
hope none of you are TOO frightened about storms."
"I don't know what's good about it," Trish mused, offering
a quirky smile. "I thought I left all the bad weather behind
me in Toronto when I came here. Hmmmmm... I guess not."
"You brought it with you!" Camille exclaimed. albeit in a
playful way. She received an equally playful smack on the
shoulder, courtesy of Trish, as a result.
Lindsay looked at me and said, "Are these three days a good
indication of what we should expect for the next six weeks?"
"Pretty much, yes," was my response, thinking to myself
how incredibly polite and well-mannered Lindsay seemed to be.
She was a doll in every sense of the word! "You and the
others will be permitted to do whatever it is that you wish.
You are your own boss here, dear. I am simply your host. It
is like I am a broken record; I cannot repeat that enough."
"I just feel so carefree and relaxed here," Lindsay mused.
"This island is such a great atmosphere. There isn't one
person here that I don't like. It really is a paradise."
"We're permitted to do whatever we want?" Amy asked me.
"Let me get this straight, Jeremy. You don't expect us to
cook or clean. You don't have strict rules or guidelines
for us. You don't, as Camille wondered, run a slave camp."
"I didn't say that!" Camille exclaimed, perhaps a bit mad
at Amy. "Tell Jeremy I didn't say that!" That was a minor
lie on her part, as I eavesdropped and heard the 25-year-old
say those exact words to Devon during their first night here.
Her reaction was quite comical, however. Did Camille just
see her chance at big money disappear before her very eyes?
"It doesn't matter, Camille," Amy told her. "It's okay.
Jeremy isn't going to think any less of you for it." Amy
focused her attention on me once again and continued, "No
cooking or cleaning. No strict rules. No slave camp. You
let us do whatever we want, yet you are paying us $100,000
at the end. One gets $500,000. What's the deal?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders.
"Why are you paying us that much money if you expect
little, if anything, out of us in return?"
I hesitated for a moment, but then smiled. Although I
had told Pamela of my intentions, now was not the time or
place for me to inform everyone else what I wanted - which
included finding the right woman, falling in love with her
and ultimately, getting married. That is what I have
dreamed about my entire life. It was also my goal here. It
was the sole reason for all this time, money and effort.
"I brought all of you here simply because I enjoy the
company," I replied, still smiling. It was not a lie, but
neither could it be called the whole, total truth, either.
"Being here by myself for 17 years... it can get lonely."
"Ummmmm... 17 years?" Camille deadpanned. "You have lived
here, ALONE, for 17 years?"
"Yes," I frowned.
"My God!..." Trish huffed. "How could you stay here by
your lonesome for 17 years? This island is beautiful and
everything, but I would go stir-crazy without others around."
"Jeremy has a friend visit him from time to time," Devon
suddenly said, straightening her posture in the chair. "Her
name is Kristanna. He told me about her last night."
"Kristanna?" Lindsay asked, intrigued.
"Yes, Kristanna," I nodded. "I was just telling Devon
last night that a friend of mine, Kristanna, will be showing
up here real soon. In fact, she'll be here on Friday, I
received a new e-mail from her just this morning. She is
going to stay with us for the duration of your visit."
"This Kristanna is the one who wrote all that gibberish on
the big rocks we were looking at yesterday," Camille said.
"What's she like?" Trish asked.
"Kristanna is just as beautiful - and just as bi - as the
rest of you, As I told Devon, I have no doubt that she will
fit in real nicely with all of you. I also told Pamela about
her yesterday afternoon. Krissy is also extremely funny and
jovial. I cannot say enough good things about her."
"Jeremy said she is from Norway," Devon told the others.
"I like her name. I think it is really pretty... exotic."
"She is a real sweetheart," I added. "All of you will
like her just as you like each other."
I felt as if I needed to clarify something from earlier.
"I DO have two homes in the United States, both of which are
being looked after by family members at this moment in time.
So, I have not been on this island non-stop for 17 years. I
DO spend time in the United States - visiting my family - and
I love to travel the world. I have been everywhere. But the
majority of my life these past 17 years has been on this very
island. I just find the most peace here."
"Don't you get lonely, though?" Trish asked, concerned.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't." I
perked up and cheerfully added, "But there is no need for me
to feel lonely now. I have all of you girls here. Kristanna
will be here Friday. Life is good... real good."
* * *
By the time 12:00pm rolled around, I had taken a very long
and relaxing whirlpool bath, and had myself fully prepared
for whatever the remainder of the day could possibly have in
store for me. Thus, I decided to venture into the adjacent
voyeur room. I immediately spotted Devon on one of the
monitors, lounging and relaxing in a bubble bath. It was a
very tempting sight, indeed, simply because Devon was such
a gorgeous woman. But I turned the monitor off. I did not
want to spy on Devon like that right now.
Another monitor registered some activity in the library,
where Pamela was seated at the table with a book in hand
and her reading glasses on. I smiled at the image. Could
anyone find fault with an exotic dancer who doubled as a
true bookworm? Pamela was a very unique woman, indeed.
There was a good reason why many of my thoughts and ideas
had been centered on Pamela thus far. Pamela was very
sweet and considerate, and clearly had a heart of pure gold.
She was the perfect representation of everything that an
exotic dancer should be - a blonde and busty vision of
physical perfection, with an athletic and very taut body.
Despite her awesome physical attributes, however, I still
found it hard to believe that Pamela was actually a stripper.
She just seemed too smart and well-refined for the stereotype
that routinely went along with the profession.
Believe it or not, but I found myself trying to envision
Pamela as a librarian. She loved to read, correct? Pamela
would most likely make an excellent librarian. Of course,
some of the customers may ask her to get on the tabletops
and start dancing and stripping, and offer her money to do
so. Meh... that was a very naughty thought on my part.
Perhaps Pamela could be a flower shop attendant instead?
I could easily see that. A drop-dead, stunning flower shop
attendant, but one nonetheless. Her younger sister was a
flower shop attendant. Pamela... maybe an elementary school
teacher? Yes, that is it. After all, that was what Pamela
one day aspired to be - a teacher. Just think of all the
crushes her students would have on her! Everyone in town
would go to the PTA meetings just to see her.
The primary reason that Pamela was an exotic dancer was so
she could live a quality lifestyle and afford to put herself
through college, where her major was education. The young
woman had just one more year to go, too, before obtaining
her collegiate degree. Would she quit stripping then, and
become a teacher? Or by that time, would Pamela be my wife?
Since her arrival on the island, Pamela seemed to go with
Amy almost as well as bread did with butter. The two ladies
had obviously hit it off and were having a wonderful time
together. It made me feel good inside that I had helped
unite Pamela and Amy by bringing them with me to the island.
How else could a _Hooters_ girl from Cincinnati meet up and
connect with a stripper from Baltimore? Strange, huh?
Amy was, as I eluded to earlier, a pure sex machine. I
am not sure whether or not she had any limits when it came
to her level of satisfaction. I wondered if Amy even knew
what that word meant. She was the type of woman who could
give any normal man a heart attack during an encounter if
she truly wanted to. Amy was just so wild and ferocious.
Would _I_ be able to survive the summer (winter) with her?
I could sit here, in the voyeur room, and forever debate
and discuss the merits of all of these wonderful ladies.
However, something even more intriguing caught my eye on
the only other active monitor in front of me.
* * *
My gaze was suddenly locked onto that particular monitor,
as Camille was currently enjoying herself underneath a
cascading waterfall on the eastern side of the island.
Standing in a pool of waist-deep water, which emptied out
into the ocean further below, Camille was wearing a black
two-piece bikini. She was positioned directly underneath a
flowing sheet of water, arching her slender neck and letting
it cascade through her long, dark hair and down her body.
Camille's eyes were closed and she had a look of pure
bliss across her face as she gently massaged her breasts
underneath the waterfall. Taking the big globes of flesh
into her hands, the 25-year-old squeezed and caressed them
thoroughly. It was obvious that she loved the sensations.
Watching a gorgeous woman such as Camille grope herself
like this was more than enough to give me a raging hard-on.
However, only adding to my personal pleasure was the very
beautiful, lush scenery in which she did it.
The continual stream of water which cascaded onto her
head from above was the centerpiece of it all. Behind the
young woman was a little wall formed from volcanic rock,
which was somewhat shielded by a growth of green weeds.
Panning the camera back a bit, I could easily tell that
the pool of fresh water that Camille leisurely basked in
was surrounded by equally stunning scenery. At the edge of
a tiny cliff which overlooked the ocean, there were majestic
trees and beautiful shrubbery all around. The sun peeked
through those tall trees from above, providing enough
illumination for me to eavesdrop on this special moment.
The sound of running water was quite peaceful, and serene.
Of course, what made the scenery even more appealing to
me was when I panned the camera back, I also got tempting
glimpses of Trish, Lindsay and Amy. The three ladies, who
had obviously come to this waterfall location with Camille
during their nature hike, were wearing their bikinis. They
stood in the small basin as well, but on the opposite side.
It seemed as if they were allowing Camille a few moments to
enjoy the waterfall on her own.
I again drooled at the sight of young, tender Lindsay in
a tiny bikini. Among all of the gorgeous sights thus far,
Lindsay in her pink bikini got my inner juices pumping faster
than anything. She was so incredibly tantalizing...
"Have either of you learned anything about the money?"
Lindsay asked Amy and Camille, as I flipped the hidden
microphone on. "I really want that half-million."
"I don't think any of us will learn a thing about the
money until Jeremy gives it to us at the end of the summer,"
Camille responded, taking a step out from underneath the
oncoming rush of water. "He seems real secretive about it.
I still don't quite know what to make of him."
Hmmmmm... it was the winter in this part of the world.
Obviously, the idea of winter being at the beginning of June
was a foreign concept to all of these ladies. I should just
give up in trying to educate them about that fact.
"To tell you the truth, I really don't care about the
money anymore," Trish mused, which caused her three friends
to glare at her in disbelief. "I'm serious. This island is
just how I envision Heaven to be. It's so beautiful. What
makes it even better is that you three and the other girls -
Pamela and Devon - are here, too. I really cannot imagine a
better place to be in the whole, wide world. We're all good
friends already... Jeremy is so wondrously kind and gracious.
We have total privacy and can do whatever we please here for
six weeks. There are no boundaries, no limitations at all."
Trish paused and added, "Shouldn't we be paying Jeremy, eh?"
"What do you mean?" Amy countered.
"Shouldn't we be paying Jeremy to let us stay here?" the
Canadian asked. "This is like a vacation for me. But it's
a free vacation. A paid vacation! I'm not going to worry
about the money any longer. If I get the $500,000, great.
If not, that's fine too. I could use $100,000, especially
in American currency. That will go a long way where I live.
The American dollar converts to 88 cents in Canadian money.
$100,000 will go a very long way for me."
"That's a good mindset to have," Camille decided. "You
are right, Trish. Whatever happens, happens. I think I am
just going to sit back and enjoy the island too, and not
worry about the money. There's really no need to."
"Jeremy will never tell us how we go about getting the
big pay-out anyway," Trish added. "Why worry about it if he
won't tell us? I imagine it will go to the one he likes the
most. Right now, I think that person is Pamela."
"I agree with that," Amy nodded. "He likes Pamela a lot."
"That is fine with me," Trish mused. "If he wants to give
the half-million to Pamela, fine. After all, it is Jeremy's
money. He can do with it what he pleases. I won't complain.
I am just happy I am here, and able to enjoy the island. In
the end, I will get a minimum of $100,000 regardless."
"He can give the big money to ME," Lindsay sulked.
"I know who likes him more than anyone," Camille nodded.
"Don't tell Pamela, for sure, but Devon is absolutely crazy
about Jeremy. She wants him in the worst way possible."
_COME ON_, Camille, I said inwardly. _Don't tell Pamela_?
Clearly, this was an attempt to spread rumors and gossip
about Devon behind her back.
"Devon?" Amy countered.
"She had sex with Jeremy last night," Camille offered.
"Devon was all happy and giggly about it this morning."
"I need to have sex with Jeremy again," Amy announced,
which made my heart flutter with desire. Dare I say it, but
I needed to have sex with Amy again as well. Soon. It was
good that she and I could mutually agree on that point.
"I don't want to see Devon get hurt," Camille frowned.
"I like her a lot, myself. But unfortunately, men seem to
have the uncanny knack to be able to a hurt a woman at the
worst possible time, in the worst possible way." Huh?
"Devon has been telling me things like she is already in
love with Jeremy and even wants to marry him... RIGHT NOW."
Marry me right now?
I was not quite sure I felt the same way - in fact, I know
I did not - but it was an interesting thought nonetheless.
Devon was already entertaining thoughts of marriage with me?
How was that even possible? It seemed crazy!
Amy cracked a smile. "If Jeremy is going to marry anyone,
it's going to be ME." (!!!)
"Hopefully Devon hasn't said anything to Jeremy like that
yet," Trish fretted. "Telling someone things like that at the
beginning of a relationship is the easiest way to kill the
relationship. I remember one guy... after he asked me out
for the first time, he said he was crazy about me and really
wanted to get to know me better. He made it seem like he
wanted to marry me. It was kind of a turn-off even though I
liked him, because I didn't want to go out with him, maybe
lead him on and then ultimately hurt his feelings in the end.
I was younger then; I just wanted to go out and have fun. I
definitely wasn't looking to settle down like I am now."
"There's no way that I'm settling down," Lindsay declared.
"I'm only 18 years of age. I want to go out and explore,
find what the world has to offer." I noticed a serious pout
from Trish as Lindsay continued, "That's a big reason why I
decided to come to the island. Well... that, and the money.
But the island seemed like some sort of paradise."
"It has definitely lived up to all its hype," Amy nodded.
"Jeremy really spoke the island up in those brochures and
booklets he sent us through the mail. It's even better than
I imagined it to be. A tropical island, beautiful women and
a very nice, sweet man for our host. The perfect man!"
"Just think that we have six whole weeks to be here, and
enjoy ourselves," Camille grinned. "I bet maybe one or two
of us will never want to leave. I know I will leave, but I
can see where one or two others may want to stay forever."
"What's the deal with Jeremy?" Lindsay asked. "I wonder
why he has spent 17 years here, all by himself? Just to
think... I was only age one when he moved in here. I agree
with what Trish said earlier. This island may be paradise,
but there is no way I could live here all by myself."
"It does seem sort of strange," Camille observed. "But
I'm not one to judge. I'm sure that Jeremy has a reason for
opting to stay here alone for all that time."
"Maybe he's just a loner," Trish speculated. "A lot of
people are like that. But he did say he enjoys our company.
And he seems too friendly and outgoing to be a loner..."
"And he has too good of a cock not to have a woman around
at all times."
"Amy!" Trish scolded her, albeit playfully. "Gosh!" All
I can say about Amy's words is that I took them as a true
compliment. Gruff? Overly blunt? Even... crude? I had
_too good of a cock not to have a woman around_? My modest
side will take what she said as a compliment... nothing more.
"Oh... about you being age one when Jeremy began living
here, Lindsay," Amy commented. "You're so small and frail
and sweet and innocent that you don't look a day older than
five now." Amy snickered merrily at her own playful barb.
Lindsay, however - though she kept silent - did not seem to
appreciate it all that much. Myself, it gave me a chuckle.
"Jeremy is mysterious," Camille observed. "I still don't
quite get the idea as to why he brought the six of us here.
He pays us all that money, but lets us do what we want. A
friend of mine back home in California was convinced that I
was getting myself into some sort of slave camp."
Trish giggled and mused, "I thought you were not one to
judge others, Camille. But I don't understand him myself.
I do think, though, that he is very trustworthy. If Jeremy
says that we can do whatever we want, I believe him. I do
not think we will wake up one day, all tied up or something.
It just does not seem to be in his nature."
"I'm interested in meeting that friend of his," Camille
added. "Kristanna or Christina... whatever her name is. I
bet she may have some answers for us."
"That's a good point," Trish nodded. "When we get the
chance, let's ask her, and see what she says. Surely, she
will understand our curiosity about him. Right?"
"You would think so," Lindsay offered.
"Unless she is his cohort in all of this, or something,"
Camille deadpanned.
"Cohort?" Trish returned. "You make it sound bad... like
Jeremy has some nasty, ulterior motive in store for us."
"I need some satisfaction," Amy announced, before slowly
but surely making her way over at the awaiting Camille in
the basin. An instant later, Amy and Camille embraced one
another and shared a very long, deep-rooted kiss.
While Trish simply stood by and watched, Camille turned
her attention toward Lindsay, whose face was beet-red with
embarrassment as she climbed out of the basin and took a
seat in the grass. "Come over here and join us, honey,"
Camille encouraged her. "It'll be fun!"
"Lindsay is still a virgin," Trish told Camille, as well
as Amy. "Right now, I think that she just wants to watch."
"You're a VIRGIN?" Camille gasped in disbelief, her eyes
locked upon Lindsay. The teen-ager frowned and nodded her
head in response. "I can't believe that you're a virgin!"
Camille was doing an excellent job of acting here simply
because she already knew that Lindsay was a virgin. How did
I know that? Yesterday, remember, I eavesdropped on the
conversation that Camille had with Devon and Amy at the
beach. Amy informed both of them that Lindsay was a virgin.
Camille may have hinted during that same conversation that
she already knew Lindsay was a virgin, but I was not certain.
"I would have never guessed that you were still a virgin,"
Amy told Lindsay, trying to hold back an outburst of laughs.
Of course, Amy had been well aware of this fact as well.
"I just haven't found the right person to sexually give
myself to yet," Lindsay brooded, before her gaze shifted to
Trish. "I think that's about to change, though."
Trish smiled at those words as Camille implored, "Come on
over here and join us, Lindsay. There is no need to have
sex right away if you're a virgin." She slipped her arms
around Amy's shoulders, then pressed her breasts on hers
within the pool of fresh water and ground them as one.
"We can just make out," Camille said to Lindsay. "Come
on, honey. I bet you would feel really good squished between
me and Amy, as we both kissed you at the same time. In fact,
I bet you would LOVE it. Just love it!"
"We would love having you," Amy murmured. "Our hands all
over your body - touching you, caressing you, teasing you..."
"You'll never know unless you give it a shot," Camille
egged her on. "C'mon... what is there to lose? We would
make you feel real good. Really good... give it a shot."
"I don't know..." Lindsay fretted, her eyes cast downward
as she sat upon the ledge. After several seconds, she looked
up and surmised, "This is all so new to me. I don't mean any
offense, Camille, but I don't know you all that well. I do
not know you all that well either, Amy. The only person that
I really know here thus far is Trish."
"Amy doesn't know me well, either," Camille countered.
"But look at this." She pressed her lips to Amy's mouth and
kissed her intently - her soft, velvety tongue sliding far
and deep - before turning her focus back to Lindsay. "She
sure does seem to enjoy kissing me, though." Now, Lindsay
looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Let her go, Camille," Trish said. "It is not your place
or my place to force her. When Lindsay is ready to share
herself, she will make that decision on her own." Trish
climbed out of the pool of natural water and focused all of
her attention toward her room-mate. "Do you wanna go back to
the mansion, sweetie?" Lindsay nodded her head in a sheepish
manner in response to Trish's question. "Okay... let's go."
Trish rose to her feet and grasped Lindsay by the hand,
but meanwhile, Amy and Camille did not seem all too pleased.
"You two are going to leave us here?"
"You're very welcome to come back to the mansion with us,"
Trish told Camille. "Both of you are."
"There is no reason for any of us to be shy or hold a
thing back this summer," Amy implored. "No reason at all.
Why don't you tell Lindsay to open herself up to us right
now? It is going to happen eventually anyway, you know."
"If you're so dying to have sex," Trish admonished them,
"then I suggest you have your sex with each other. Lindsay
should not be subjected to this - having sex or watching
others do it themselves - if it makes her feel the least bit
uncomfortable. I will not allow that to happen."
"Maybe the two of us rather have sex with Lindsay," the
mocha-skinned Camille cackled. "Did you ever think of that?
Maybe YOU should sit back, Trish, and watch ME as I lick
Lindsay's pussy! The girl needs a good, hard fucking! It
would help loosen her up! It's so obvious!"
"A really HARD fucking," Amy nodded.
As Lindsay gasped in response to those words, Trish gave
Amy and Camille the evil eye and snapped, "That was uncalled
for!" For a moment, it appeared as if Trish wanted to rip
into Amy and Camille and tear them limb from limb for making
such nasty, aggressive statements. I could not blame her if
Trish chose to go that route. However, she was somehow able
to harness and control her anger, and eventually settle down.
Trish turned her focus toward Lindsay and said in a gentle
tone, "C'mon, honey. Let's go back to the mansion. We can
play some video games in the recreation room before dinner."
Trish hooked her arm around Lindsay's and added, "We can pick
up where we left off earlier with _Final Fantasy XIII_. You
did save our progress in the game, right?"
"Yes," Lindsay pouted, glancing at Amy and Camille in a
disapproving manner. She then made eye contact with Trish
and conveyed, "That game absolutely rocks."
"You cannot keep a padlock on your little pussy all summer
long," Camille warned Lindsay. "We WILL get to it."
Trish paid the other two ladies no attention whatsoever as
she turned and whisked Lindsay away from the scenic waterfall
location. Amy and Camille looked at each other, then shook
their heads in unison. Obviously, they were disappointed.
But, I cannot say that I felt one bit sorry for them.
Trish was starting to grow on me even more as a person. I
really enjoyed (and appreciated) how Trish was trying to
protect and shield the innocent and naive Lindsay from some
of the more aggressive women on the island - notably Amy and
Camille. I still felt that there was some good underneath of
Amy's rigid exterior. It just had to find its way out.
I was glad, however, that Lindsay was still a virgin. The
time she could no longer be classified as one was quickly
approaching, however. That was fairly obvious. I still had
the faint fantasy that Lindsay would allow me to be the one to
take her virginity. I say _faint_ because it appeared that
Trish had the definite inside track.
On the other hand, I really could not complain about it.
If Trish turned out to be the one who ultimately took
Lindsay's virginity, that would be wonderful. The most
clear-cut thing of all on the island - at least early on -
was that Trish was totally and madly in love with Lindsay.
Because of that, Trish deserved the honor more than anyone
else. She certainly would not view Lindsay's virginity as a
notch on her bedpost - like some of the others here would.
Honestly, who else could it rightfully be?
"No fun," Camille frowned, her gaze focused on Amy, once
Lindsay and Trish disappeared from their view.
"I'd love to fuck Lindsay with a strap-on," Amy smirked,
which caused my hormones to rage even more out of control.
Amy was something else! She was wicked! "I'd bend her over
the bed and fuck her senseless. I would use my belt and
give her a good whipping, too. All that crying and whining
from Lindsay would only get her an even harder whipping from
me, and a bigger butt-plug in her ass."
Camille laughed. "And make Trish watch? That would be
awesome. I would love to pop Lindsay's cherry and force
Trish to watch me do it. Maybe tie Trish up and force her
to watch me violate her girl. Make Lindsay cum over and over
again, and then make her beg me to fuck her more as Trish was
powerless to stop it." Camille purred like a kitten at the
mere thought and reiterated, "That would be awesome..."
"Pop Lindsay's cherry?" Amy countered. "I don't want to
pop it. I want to OBLITERATE it." Both ladies giggled at
those words as they continued to embrace one another at the
beautiful waterfall location. "I'd make Lindsay my slave.
Trish would be my bitch, forced to watch... OUR bitch. I
would love to make Lindsay cry. Oh, I'd hurt her so much..."
Camille smiled. "We would fuck her until she loved us."
"I would love to take Lindsay home with me," Amy said. "I
would beat her every day for weeks. A little more each and
every day. I would beat her and fuck her, and then she would
make me cum with her mouth. Best of all, Lindsay would wait
for it. She would be all alone on her knees, chained to the
bedpost, eagerly waiting for me to arrive home every night."
"I would use a long, braided whip, and I would have it
hanging on the bedroom wall," Amy continued. "Lindsay would
have no choice but to stare at it for hours on end when I am
not home. She would think about how that whip is going to
be used on her precious, delicate flesh later on that evening;
about how much it is going to hurt her."
"And once I finally showed up, after a long night of work,
I would make Lindsay beg for it. Even the beating. She would
need to convince me why I should exert myself for her. I'd
paint every square inch of her body a crimson red with lashes
from the whip. And then I would allow her lick my pussy."
"I'd make her tongue my ass," Camille swooned.
With that, I flipped the audio switch off because I could
no longer listen to this discussion. I did not like the way
that Amy and Camille were talking about Lindsay. Trish too,
for that matter. I did not even care if Amy and Camille
wound up having sex in the water with each other. At this
moment in time, at least, I was not interested in watching.
Suddenly, all of the sexual tension had been ripped from me.
Again, I had the sense that Amy was a good person. I may
be the only one here on the island who felt that way, but I
honestly believed that she enjoyed saying these wild and
outlandish things simply to get reactions out of others.
Amy loved shocking people. It was a bad trait, indeed, but
I could overlook it if my assumption about her was accurate
(that a truly good person was lurking somewhere underneath all
those many waves of sexual aggression).
Camille? I did not know what to think of Camille right
now. She had just taken a serious nose-dive in my book. I
did not feel the same way about her as I did Amy. Nor did
I feel any sort of mental attraction toward Camille. What
more could I possibly do to gain her trust? Camille was
very beautiful, yes, but that beauty seemed to be skin-deep.
It was very early in the process, though, and things could
change. Camille could ultimately turn out to be my favorite.
That sounds awfully strange to me, but only time would tell.
I had to keep an open mind when it came to all of the ladies.
"FUCK THEM!" Trish said, quite angrily, as I flipped the
audio on for the surveillance monitor that was currently
displaying her and Lindsay. The two ladies were in the
middle of the forest, about a half-mile or so from the
mansion. Hmmmmm... I had never witnessed or even imagined that
Trish could use such language. But she clearly had a reason
for it. "I'm not going to let them talk to you like that!"
Lindsay appeared distraught as she leaned against a large,
majestic oakwood tree. There were even two different streaks
of tears going down her face - one from each eye. It was
obvious that she had been sobbing. "Maybe coming here the
way I did was all just a big mistake..."
"No, it wasn't!" Trish implored to her. "You only feel
that way because of Amy and Camille. Does Pamela talk down
to you, degrade you, like that? Devon? Amy and Camille
have no right to say those things to you! What about Jeremy?
Could you ever imagine HIM speaking to you in such a way?"
"N-No."
"I'm going to talk to Jeremy when we get back to the
house," Trish nodded. "I'm going to talk to him and make a
complaint about Amy and Camille."
"I don't want you to talk to Jeremy," Lindsay countered,
the octaves within her voice suddenly becoming stronger. "I
don't want anyone on the island to get into trouble because
of me and my own insecurities."
"They cannot talk to you like that!" Trish reiterated.
"How else are we going to stop them?"
"Give them what they want?" Lindsay speculated. "Amy and
Camille were right. It's going to happen soon anyway. This
is just our third day here, and the sex around us is starting
to pick up. In two or three weeks, it is going to a massive
free-for-all on this island. Maybe I... I should just let my
hair loose, so to speak, break down, and do it."
Trish placed both hands atop Lindsay's shoulders and looked
deep into her eyes. "You cannot think that way, baby. You
only get one chance to have a first time. There is no turning
back after that first time. There are no do-overs. You want
your first time having sex to be memorable. You want it to be
memorable for the right reasons. It has to be SPECIAL. Most
of all, you want to be 100 percent certain that you made the
right decision with whomever that person turns out to be. It
will be a life-changing experience. Treat it as such."
"Didn't I give up any real chance of it being SPECIAL when
I signed up for this island?" Lindsay pouted. "I am not going
to date someone from this island for months on end. Go out to
the movies with them, go over to their house and have dinner
with their parents. Have them come over to my house and have
dinner with my mom and sisters. Maybe you, for example,
Trish. We are not going to talk on our cell phones for
countless hours each night and share homework notes... share
gossip. We are not going to trade little, funny love letters
at school each day. Our friends are not going to gossip and
talk about what such a neat couple we are. We will never go
to the prom together. All of that leading up to, perhaps one
night months or maybe even years later, losing my virginity to
you. Something slow-building like that, and REAL, would make
it very special."
"Instead," Lindsay continued, "it's going to happen on
this island in a very accelerated fashion. I was talking to
my oldest sister a couple of days ago about all of this. She
told me to treat the island like it were Las Vegas. You know
the saying _What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?_. Well,
what happens on this island needs to stay on this island."
"Things will be accelerated, yes," Trish agreed. "But
that doesn't mean losing your virginity cannot be special.
I would do everything I could to make it special for you,
honey. Don't you think Jeremy would, too?" My insides
fluttered with those words as she kept going, "I cannot tell
you enough that I want it to be special for you, Lindsay. I
know I can make it special. I want it to be right. But
even if it not with me, I still want it to be right. That
is really the only thing that matters to me. The decision
on who that person will be is totally up to you."
The 18-year-old sighed, clearly exasperated, and rolled
her head about. "Maybe I should climb up on the dinner table
tonight when we are eating, and tell everyone to have at me.
That would solve the problem for sure."
Trish shot her quite the disapproving eye. "What would be
special about that? Absolutely nothing. NOTHING at all. And
you would regret it for the rest of your life." Flustered,
Trish's body actually began to shake and tremble with negative
emotions. "You're only feeling this way because of Amy and
Camille, Lindsay. Everyone on this island - except for them -
wants you to go at your own pace. Pamela would tell you the
same, exact thing right now. So would Devon. Jeremy, too."
Lindsay took a deep, ragged breath. "Maybe you're right."
"I know I'm right!" Trish insisted. "And you know what
else? Pamela told me that she was talking with Jeremy for a
long time yesterday. She said Jeremy told her that if she
did not want to have sex here on the island, she did not have
to. The same would apply to you, Lindsay. You could go all
six weeks here, stay a virgin if you wanted to, then collect
your money at the end and go home. And that would be it. No
one is forcing you to do anything. Amy and Camille might be
trying, but you cannot allow them to force you into anything.
Pamela and Devon aren't forcing you, neither is Jeremy, and
certainly not me. I just want you to do what YOU want."
"Would you like it if I went all six weeks, untouched,
and then went home?" Lindsay wondered. "I know how attracted
you are to me, Trish. It's very obvious. It's different for
me - certainly something I'm not used to from another woman.
But it is also flattering. Quite flattering."
"I want you to do what makes you happy," Trish repeated.
"It doesn't matter what I like or what I want. It is what
YOU want, honey. This is your life; your decision. It is
your virginity. I simply don't want you to regret it."
Lindsay stepped forward and encircled Trish's body with
both arms, hugging her warmly. Trish returned the favor,
tucking the top of Lindsay's head just below her chin and
gently holding it there. Both ladies stood there silently
for at least 30 seconds, and I quickly realized that this
image needed to be etched in my memory. Praise the Heavens
for the voyeur room! What an awesome, touching scene...
"I think you and Jeremy would see to it that my first time
is special," Lindsay finally relented. "Out of everyone here,
I would put the most faith in you and Jeremy, Trish. I don't
want it to happen today, but it is something to think about."
Oh? Exactly what was Lindsay referring to?
* * *
Suddenly, another monitor flickered to life. Because the
system was triggered with the use of motion detectors, the
screen overseeing the long corridor that led to my personal
suite had popped on. I turned my total attention toward it,
naturally, and felt overly curious once I noticed that it
was Pamela. For some reason, the enchanting young woman was
dressed in a large, overflowing trench coat. It looked drab
on her, to say the least. Why was Pamela wearing that brown
coat anyway? The weather outside was warm, and beautiful...
I exited the voyeur room and sealed its wall entrance. I
took a moment to look in the nearby mirror and run a brush
through my hair, then rushed over to the door and opened it.
"Hi Pamela," I greeted her, smiling. She certainly did
look odd with that trench coat on. "What can I do for you?"
"You were talking about me being a stripper yesterday in
the library," the 30-year-old cooed as she stepped into the
suite and then closed the door behind her. "You were making
fun of me, too, Jeremy." Pamela grinned at her own words
and wryly added, "I thought you would be interested if I was
to... oh, hmmmmm... give you a... lap dance."
I was about to say something, but then the coat came off.
I literally drooled at the sight of Pamela, who now looked
as hot and as sinfully sexy as any one person possibly could.
I could not believe my eyes as Pamela wore a black leather
vest, which was zipped up to only her midriff. Thus, the
black bra that barely concealed her large, heavenly breasts
underneath was on display. It was decorated with lacey,
flower-print designs and offered a clear view of her juicy,
plump nipples through its sheer fabric.
In addition, Pamela wore a leather mini-skirt which was so
small and low-cut, she might as well not had it on. Fishnet
stockings adorned her legs, and the pair of knee-high boots
looked extremely tantalizing on her. The little mini-skirt,
stockings and boots were black, just like her bra and vest.
With her silky-smooth blonde hair braided up in a stylish,
classy manner, Pamela appeared as if she had just stepped out
of one of my ultimate fantasies. My heart was pounding
within my chest as I stared and gawked at the luscious woman
standing before me. Despite Devon's recent push for my
attention, maybe Pamela truly was the woman for me?...
"You're going to dance for me?" I breathed, swallowing
hard. My whole body was alive with heated, intense arousal.
Was there any other place on the planet that I rather be at
this precise, exact moment in time than right here in this
room with Pamela? This promised to be quite interesting...
"Yes, I am," the seductress replied, the excitement level
in her sultry voice readily apparent. "Now, be a good boy
and take a seat on the edge of the bed for me."
"Oh God..." I growled, quickly complying with her request.
"Remember the number one rule of lap dancing, Jeremy,"
Pamela chided me, stepping back. "No touching. Got that?"
"No touching?" I exclaimed, somewhat exasperated.
"I don't want to have to punish you for breaking the
rules," she warned, a naughty grin on her charming face.
"Nor do I want to call a bouncer to come and rough you up,
though I'm quite certain that I could handle you myself."
"Huh?"
The top-heavy blonde took another step back and offered me
a very beguiling smile. An instant later, she cupped and
squeezed her fabulous breasts with both hands, their flesh
rolling underneath her touch. Pamela's face came alive as
she purred, "Do you WANT me to dance for you, Jeremy?"
Unable to speak, I eagerly nodded my head at her.
"Do I turn you on?" Pamela asked, her remarkable body
starting to buck and churn about in a sensuous manner. I
quickly sensed this was her standard routine for dancing.
Pamela turned her back and gyrated her shapely ass for me,
which was barely concealed by that mini-skirt, before
spinning back around. Her body kept grinding as she teased,
"I only want to dance for you if it turns you on, Jeremy."
"You're turning me on, big-time," I managed to get out,
my eyes wide as I openly gawked at her. "Trust me."
Pamela pulled her skirt upward for a brief second - long
enough to flash me a view of her black G-string - before
shoving it back down into place. "Are you getting hard
yet?" she wondered, her tone soft and silky. "I just can't
tell you how much I like nice, hard cocks, Jeremy."
Instead of waiting for me to answer, Pamela simply reached
out with her right hand and rubbed the humongous bulge that
was stationed within my shorts. "Oooooh," she cooed, her
hips swaying back-and-forth in a rhythmic motion. "You are
hard, lover. REAL hard. I like that. I like that a LOT."
With my own hands, I made a move to grasp and latch onto
both of her breasts, but Pamela backed away and shook her
head at me. "No touching!" she reminded me, being playful.
I let out another exasperated moan, but decided to let the
game continue. Soon, I would absolutely ravage this woman.
Pamela then placed both hands on her head and swayed her
hips for me once again, her breasts jiggling and bouncing
about within the confines of her lacey bra. She trailed
both hands down to those big breasts and cupped them a
second time, then massaged them. "I like showing off my
body," she said, being coy. "Do you like my body, Jeremy?"
"Oh God... you know I do, Pamela. You're so gorgeous."
There was a bona-fide reason why I found Pamela to be so
very irresistible. That fully-loaded figure of hers, which
she now flaunted about with the flair of a seasoned,
professional stripper, had something to do with it.
"Ohhhhh," Pamela grinned, now hooking her left leg over
my right knee and straddling me somewhat there. Her body
bounced about in that position for several seconds, but
then she recoiled her leg and stood straight up once more.
"You like my nice, big breasts?" Pamela asked, in total
teasing mode, as she continued to mash and maul them with
her hands. I nodded as she added, "Would you like to see
my breasts, Jeremy? Do you think you would like that?"
"Oh yes," I replied quickly, my cock about to burst within
my shorts. I could not believe how sinful and erotic this
woman was as she bumped and weaved her body about before me.
I could easily tell that Pamela had done a lot of stripping
and dancing over the course of the past several years.
Pamela undid the zipper on her vest-like top, and easily
shrugged it from her shoulders. The garment fell harmlessly
to the floor, and then she unsnapped her lacey black bra in
front. The siren pulled its cups outward, baring her big,
glorious breasts for my eyes to luxuriate in. Pamela tossed
the bra elsewhere, then moaned as she openly massaged and
fondled her naked breasts with both hands.
Pamela brought a finger to her mouth and wet it, then
turned her back to me and giggled. "Like my ass?" she asked,
her hips suddenly undulating in a wicked manner. She bent
over slightly and leaned up hard against my pelvis, then
started to bounce upon it. "Want me to rub my ass all over
your cock like this? Does that feel good, Jeremy?" She
continued bumping her hips upon my pelvis, saying, "You like
my ass all over your cock?" She slapped that curvaceous
backside and cooed, "Is my ass tight enough for you, Jeremy?"
"Oh God..." I trembled. This was much better than any
lap dance that I ever once fantasized about receiving...
Pamela kept up the churning and grinding motion for a few
seconds before finally withdrawing that luscious ass of hers
from my pelvis. She turned back around and trailed both
hands down the front of her body, her hips bucking wildly,
with a smile on her face, before undoing the zipper on the
side of her mini-skirt and quickly whisking it away.
I took in a deep breath and shook my head in a mixture of
lust and appreciation as Pamela continued to dance in front
of me, the only articles of clothing remaining on her being
a black G-string, fishnet stockings and knee-high boots.
"You like it when I tease you like this?" Pamela wondered,
still dancing. "You like me doing this, Jeremy?" She paused
and moaned, "Hmmmmm... I know I just love it."
Pamela then dropped to her knees between my widespread
legs, and smiled at the tremendous bulge that was within my
shorts. Her eyes locked on mine, Pamela extended her tongue
and swiped away at the lump. Her white teeth then clamped
down on a portion of my shorts' fabric, and she pulled her
head back. She then nuzzled her nose on my aching erection
and giggled, her eyes never once leaving my face.
The young woman soon rose up to her feet and resumed her
erotic dancing routine. "Want me to take my G-string off
for you?" she asked, unsnapping a button on the garments'
side which held it together. She held the loose G-string in
front of her pussy for several seconds - teasing me - before
pulling it away and fully exposing herself to me.
"Do you like my pussy?" Pangs of unspeakable lust were
coursing throughout my entire body as Pamela then straddled
my hips. "Like my naked body all over your body?" she
wondered, starting to bounce up-and-down upon my shaft - as
if we were having sex. I needed to get rid of my shorts!
"HMMMMM... I _LOVE_ feeling your cock between my legs like
this," she moaned, her face flushed with desire. "Your cock
is all big, and hard. Hmmmmm... feels so good!"
My body overcome with lust, I grabbed Pamela's breasts
with both hands and squeezed them roughly. She then jumped
off my lap and scurried backwards, shaking a menacing finger
at me. I sighed as she playfully scolded me, "No touching,
Jeremy! You do that again, and I'll have to tie you up."
My eyes went large in response to those words as Pamela
dropped to her knees between my widespread legs once again.
She placed both hands on the side of my hips and looked up
at me with a playful expression, then began to grind her
luscious breasts upon my pelvis in a wanton, lewd manner.
Acting coy and innocent, Pamela continued to gaze up at
me as she snickered, "You look so uncomfortable, Jeremy.
Oh... poor thing. Let's see if I can make you feel better."
I took in another deep breath as she undid my shorts and
reached within my briefs, then pulled my fully erect cock
out and let it wobble before her eyes in the open air. "Is
that better?" she inquired, still acting innocent. "I think
he needed a breath of fresh air, Jeremy." She giggled once
more, gently stroking and then kissing the tip of my cock.
Pamela stood up and placed both hands onto my head, then
brought my face into contact with her breasts. She rubbed
my face across those glorious breasts of hers for several
seconds, her hips still undulating, before dropping back down
to her knees between my legs. She pulled my shorts and
briefs downward, fully exposing my shaft.
Pamela tilted her head all the way forward, until its crown
was pointing downward. She then rubbed the back of her head
upon my erection, which nearly caused me to explode. I loved
the feel of her silky-smooth blonde hair on my skin...
"Why don't you suck it?" I asked her, referring to my
cock, my tone of voice uncharacteristically flat and uneven.
Pamela took a step back upon her knees and flashed me a
look. "Suck it? What type of dancer do you think I am,
Jeremy?" She huffed playfully and added, "Not me..."
Finally, Pamela had pushed me too far.
The stripper grunted and squealed with obvious arousal as
I clutched both of her shoulders with my hands and literally
tossed her onto the bed. Pamela gave me an expectant look as
she gazed up at me, her firm thighs already spread wide and
parted. I licked my lips at the mere sight of her little
pussy, which glistened with its shiny, erotic moisture.
I hesitated for a second or two, but then dove face-first
right between those luscious thighs. Pamela's body tensed
with arousal as I grasped her hips with my hands, my tongue
already flicking itself over and across her swollen slit.
The voluptuous vixen moaned out her approval, her hands
clutching my head, her fingers weaving themselves throughout
my short brown hair. The feel of her fingernails on my scalp
sent absolute shockwaves of pleasure through my body.
Not only did Pamela have a beautiful pussy, but she had a
very delicious one as well. I lapped away at her moist,
tender folds, my tongue darting about wildly, my nose
sniffing and luxuriating in the scent of her womanhood.
That was yet another thing - her pussy smelled wonderful.
Everything about Pamela, in fact, was wonderful...
I inserted a pair of fingers into that sweet pussy and
immediately began to thrust them in-and-out at a rather
torrid pace. Pamela clutched her thighs tightly around my
head, as well as my hand, as I continually forged those
fingers into her. She arched her neck and back high off
the mattress, a series of moans and growls emanating from
deep within her throat. Obviously, Pamela enjoyed this.
Likewise, I was happy to be the one giving her this pleasure.
"Oh yeah..." she sighed, her thighs now loosening the
dual grip on my head and hand. "Oh yeah, Jeremy... that's
good. That's real good! Hmmmmm... lick my pussy! Lick it!
Hmmmmm... come on, lick it. OH YEAH... there. Right there!
OH GOD... don't stop! Don't stop! Don't ever stop!"
I concentrated on her little nub of a clitoris, gently
trapping it within my mouth and flicking my tongue across it
in rapid-fire succession. Pamela let out a thunderous squeal
in response, then pressed her palms on the crown of my head
and applied a generous amount of pressure. She arched her
neck and back once again as well, her moans and cries of
arousal quickly becoming more loud and heated.
I released her clitoris from my mouth, only to then offer
it a series of slow, leisurely swipes with my tongue. I got
the sense that Pamela was extremely close to an orgasm, which
was a bit of a surprise to me. I could get off a beautiful
woman like this with my tongue alone, and no foreplay?
Then the thought hit me that the wicked lap dance which
Pamela had earlier given to me must have excited her as well.
It was a combination of both the strip-tease and my oral
worship which would ultimately lead toward her orgasm.
Whatever the case, I bore down with my lips and tongue,
and was intent on bringing this hot, ravenous creature to an
earth-shattering climax. Once I inserted a third finger
into her glistening folds and pounded away at them, I had
succeeded. Pamela roared out at the very top of her lungs,
her exquisite pussy literally erupting in a sea of passion.
"HMMMMM... GOD!" she screamed out, her head raised as
she glared at me. "GOD YES!" My tongue had already shifted
into erotic overdrive, and was busy lapping up the delicious
fruits of my labor. Juices seemed to continually ooze from
Pamela's pussy; and I was quick to gather it with my tongue
and swallow it down my throat. Delicious!
"Hmmmmm... yes," Pamela moaned in the aftermath, once she
had settled her body back down on the bed. "Oh yesssss...
Oh Jeremy, you made me cream my pussy." She smiled and
coyly added, "I'm going to have to pay you back for that.
GOD, lover. You made me feel SO GOOD."
"I thought you said I wasn't allowed to touch you," I
grinned, finally raising my head from between the silken
joining of her thighs. "Did you change your mind?"
Pamela moaned and replied, "If you want to lick my pussy
like that, Jeremy, you can do whatever you want!"
For a moment, I extended my tongue and dabbed away at
Pamela's belly button. Then, I trailed my lips and tongue
up Pamela's torso - over her midriff and through her vast
cleavage - and finally planted a deep kiss on her mouth.
"I heard you had an eventful time with Devon last night."
"Oh?" I gulped, unaware of where Pamela may be headed with
that question. Again, I had no idea just how she was going
to react. Was Pamela angry at me for that spending intimate
time with Devon last evening after the words she and I shared
earlier that same day? Perhaps this was my judgment day?
"Yeah... that's what I heard," she mused. "You have sex
with me in the afternoon, and then you're fooling around with
Devon later that night. Of course, the night before, Monday,
you and Amy had your little.... tryst. I heard ALL about it."
"I'm not sure what you're saying or implying with this?"
Pamela waved a finger in front of my face and grinned.
"I want you to have your fun with these girls, Jeremy. I
know that this island is - at least on the surface - a sex
resort. But you told me your REAL reason for bringing me
and all of the other girls to the island with you. You want
love, and to get married. It's not a sex resort at all.
This is like one of those reality dating shows on television,
but with a very erotic twist."
"I trust you haven't told anyone..."
"Of course not," Pamela responded, shaking her head. "As
I was saying, though, I want you to have your fun. I do."
"What do you mean?"
Pamela took a deep breath before answering, "No matter
how many times you have sex with Amy or Devon, or even Trish,
or Lindsay, or Camille... or anyone else - Kristanna, perhaps,
I just want... I just want you to remember one thing."
"What's that?"
"No one could ever possibly love you, or care for you,
more than me," Pamela said, those words sending vibrating
down to my inner core. "I guarantee you that. No one would
ever treat you any better. I am not just saying that,
either. I mean it. I really do. And no one - and I mean
NO ONE - would make you any happier than me. No one."
For the time being, I was totally speechless. No one had
ever spoke such _powerful_ words to me, or about me, before.
I was completely unprepared for it, too. Pamela had totally
broadsided me, but in the best way imaginable. The feelings
that she had for me were already this deep and intense?
"I want to be with you," the 30-year-old added, promptly
tossing her arms around my shoulders and offering a fierce,
loyal hug. "I want you in my life, Jeremy. I want us to be
together. We BELONG together. You know it, and I know it.
Go and have your fun with the other girls. It's okay."
"Pamela..." I sighed, touched by her sincerity.
"I really understand the way you feel now, Jeremy. It is
natural. You have a whole group of beautiful women here
with you. All of them like you, want to get to know you
better. You want to get to know them. You think, maybe,
that you jumped the gun a little by telling me that I am
your _dream girl_ on just my second day here. Considering
the circumstances, and the theme of this place, it's okay.
If I were you, I'd want to look around a little bit too,
before deciding which girl is best suited for me."
Was this woman reading my exact thoughts, or something?
Pamela grinned at me. "It is my job to show you - to
PROVE to you, Jeremy - that I really AM your dream girl.
Eventually, you will not even THINK about another woman.
I am all the woman you will ever need." She smiled once
again, then kissed me. "Just wait. You'll see."
When I did not respond, Pamela giggled. "You better be
glad that I am not the jealous type, though. Carrying on
with all these girls like you have. It's really, truly
okay. I know that you'll ultimately choose me in the end."
"You've spent an awful lot of time with Amy," I told her.
"I know I have," Pamela nodded. "Your sex resort idea is
a fantasy for me, too. I have been able to let loose and be
totally carefree with Amy. She is the quite the interesting
girl, with many layers and facets to her personality. I've
enjoyed my time with her thus far. But I would trade all of
it for a one-on-one commitment from you." Wow...
Pamela smiled and added, "When you are ready to make that
commitment, Jeremy, I'll be waiting for you." Pamela kissed
me flush on the lips and concluded, "You're worth the wait."
<<<- End of Chapter 4 ->>>
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"Island Fever"
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