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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 8: Melancholy ---------------------------------------------------
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The setting was the island at its purest. What was
happening there was something even more special.
The northeast beach was one of many quintessential,
picture-postcard locations that the island had to offer.
With its abundant white sand, swaying palm trees and clear,
calm blue water, this crescent-shaped beach was a natural
draw for anyone who worshiped the sun. The air of serene
tranquility and relaxing harmony that such a place provided
was the ideal elixir to heal jaggled nerves and soothe rough
tensions. Or, in certain cases, it was a spot for romance.
"Oh my..." I moaned, awestruck, while seated in the plush
comfort of my voyeur room. Upon the primary monitor in front
of me, Trish and Lindsay were enjoying the scenic wonders and
peaceful solitude that the northeast beach offered them.
Even better, though, they were enjoying each other.
Gathered together upon a collection of huge rocks and
boulders near the water's edge, Trish and Lindsay were
slowly grinding and moving together in a beautiful rhythm.
Both ladies wore tight, denim shorts, but the sweet and
charming Lindsay had already been stripped of her top.
With nothing but a bra on above the waist, the precious
18-year-old squirmed and writhed about in total pleasure as
Trish stood directly behind her. Trish, who had on a pink
halter top to go along with her denim shorts, squeezed and
caressed Lindsay's lush breasts in a repeated fashion.
With the ocean as their backdrop, the two ladies danced
and swayed together upon the rocks. It was very obvious to
me that Trish and Lindsay were going to take part in a
sexual encounter here. It would only be a matter of time.
Much to my delight, I had a front row, VIP seat within the
voyeur room for it.
Still massaging Lindsay's bra-clad breasts, Trish planted
a series of angel kisses along her girlfriend's exposed neck
and then trailed her tongue across her shoulders, and down
her back. Lindsay sighed and nodded her head in approval as
Trish soon dropped down to her knees upon the boulder. She
slid her left hand between Lindsay's legs from behind, and
caressed her stomach with it. With her right, Trish placed
it onto Lindsay's hip and held it there. Then, she kissed
and even licked at Lindsay's little ass through the denim.
As she did so, Trish moved her right hand upward and began
to massage the blonde's breasts with it. Lindsay again
sighed in arousal, this time arching her head and neck as
well. Soon, Trish rose to her feet and now used both hands
to squeeze and grope away at Lindsay's taut breasts. She
splayed some more kisses across that delicate neck and even
thrust her pelvis hard onto Lindsay's twitching ass.
Once Lindsay turned her face to the side, Trish was
there to meet her. I smiled to myself as the two ladies
extended their tongues and kissed in the open air. I just
cannot stress how incredibly happy Trish seemed to be right
now. She was totally in love with Lindsay.
Their kiss did not last long, however. Trish grasped
Lindsay's right hand and brought it to her mouth, then
gently sucked and nibbled on her extended forefinger. She
then slid one bra strap from Lindsay's shoulder and smiled
with pure, carnal delight as a pert, little nipple came
into view. Trish wasted no time whatsoever as she curled
her head around for a quick, scrumptious taste.
Her long blonde hair blowing about in the wind, Lindsay
again nodded her head. The look on her face told me that
she was becoming more aroused with every passing second.
Trish pulled her other bra strap down as well, but left
the whole garment around her midriff. Lindsay's breasts
were exposed, however, and that was what Trish wanted.
She used the opportunity to spin around to the front
and attach her lips to one of Lindsay's breasts. At the
same time, she slid her right hand between Lindsay's firm
thighs and caressed her pussy through the denim shorts she
still had on. Trish wanted to worship Lindsay, and
everything there was about her. Could anyone blame her?
It was not too long before Trish had been disposed of her
pink halter top and bra as well. Lindsay, who seemed to be
fascinated with big breasts, was taken with Trish's wondrous
D-cup. She leaned over and gently feasted on both nipples,
licking and sucking them into an erect, heated frenzy.
"Oh God, honey..." Trish sighed as Lindsay slipped a hand
between her thighs and returned the earlier favor. Trish's
hips bucked and churned about as Lindsay rubbed an open palm
over and across Trish's own pussy. But much like Lindsay,
Trish still had on a pair of denim shorts.
"God, baby..." Trish screeched. "I love you..."
Lindsay placed a single finger to Trish's mouth and held
it there for the time being. "Come on, Trishy... I have an
idea." She grasped Trish's hand with her own and slowly led
her down from the boulder. "Follow me."
* * *
Not two minutes later, both ladies had gotten rid of the
remainder of their clothing and were now wading about in a
thigh-deep portion of the ocean. Trish had dropped down her
knees within the water and was now fingering Lindsay's bare
pussy. Meanwhile, she kissed and licked Lindsay's breasts
while the minx purred above her in response.
Once Trish stood up, Lindsay turned her back and dropped
to her own knees. She leaned forward and placed both hands
in the water. Now on her hands and knees, she grunted and
squealed out in desire as Trish began to use a little more
force. She jammed a pair of fingers in-and-out of Lindsay's
exquisite, little pussy at a rather maddening pace.
"YES!" Lindsay growled, holding a hand to her mouth. "YES
TRISH! OH YES! Hmmmmm... YES!"
Trish used both hands to reach around Lindsay's body and
latch onto her breasts, then pulled her back up into a
standing position. Just like on the rocks moments earlier,
Lindsay's body wiggled and shook in the erotic sensations as
Trish pawed and groped her from behind. Naturally, she had
one hand nestled between Lindsay's thighs. The pair of
probing fingers now caused a series of yelps and squeals to
emanate from deep within the young woman's throat.
Switching positions once again, Trish and Lindsay both
dropped to their knees in the water and faced each other.
This time, Lindsay leaned forward and again worshiped
Trish's breasts with her curious lips and tongue. Trish
smiled in response, then rewarded Lindsay's forehead with a
quick kiss. These two ladies were really into each other!
Their hair soaked from a couple of underwater dunks,
Trish and Lindsay made eye contact and then shared their
most heated, passionate kiss yet. The pair of goddesses
embraced one another and smashed their mouths together,
their tongues driving far and deep. Once it was over,
Trish placed both hands onto Lindsay's immaculate face
and gently caressed it. "Wow... you're so beautiful."
Lindsay smiled at those nice words, then pressed her
lips to Trish's for another soul-touching type of kiss.
Both of Lindsay's hands were beneath the surface of the
water, so I could not see them. But I figured that she
was frigging away at Trish's pussy with them. Why? Her
shoulders and arms were moving about in a rough motion.
Lindsay whispered something to Trish, then the two
ladies smiled and began moving back toward the beach.
They stopped where the water was only calf-deep. Soon,
Lindsay proceeded to turn her back to Trish and spread
her feet far apart, then lean over and prop herself up
with one hand. With Lindsay's bent-over ass now staring
her in the face, it was obvious what Trish wanted.
She quickly took a seat in the water and burrowed her
face in, then began to eagerly lap away at the intoxicating
folds of Lindsay's pussy. Trish paused momentarily, taking
the chance to frig and massage Lindsay's clitoris with two
fingers. An instant later, though, she was once again
licking and swiping away at her with that magical tongue.
Trish changed the routine yet again, this time jamming
her fingers into Lindsay in a hard, unrelenting fashion.
This, of course, set the little angel off.
"OH YEAH! OH YEAH! Finger me! Finger me!"
"Want more?" Trish squealed, her hand a blur.
"Yeah, more..."
"I got some more for you."
"More... OHHHHH YES, give it to me. Yes! YES!"
"Like that?"
"OHHHHH yeah... harder... Wow, yes! Harder! YES!"
The tide was starting to pick up, but the incoming waves
did not seem to bother either of the ladies. They were so
into one another that it would not surprise me if they did
not even realize the waves were getting stronger.
Once Trish inserted a third finger into the mix, Lindsay
started to buck her hips back-and-forth. The move literally
caused my heart-rate to multiply. I looked on with wide eyes
from the voyeur room as Trish then extended her tongue and
moved in for another taste. "Your pussy is so sweet, baby!
It's the sexiest, most delicious, little pussy I ever had!"
Despite those words, Trish put a momentary halt to the
oral worship. She spun around to Lindsay's front side and
offered her a series of heated, passionate kisses.
Both of them traded their lips and tongues for several
seconds before moving a bit closer toward the shoreline.
Once there, Lindsay took a seat in the sand and, her knees
up, spread her thighs wide. Trish immediately dropped down
onto her front and moved her mouth in for another taste.
Her tongue in a constant motion, Trish kept her eyes
trained on Lindsay's face. "I want to make you cum, baby."
She shook her head and added, "What I really want is to jump
into your pussy and never come out!"
"Hmmmmm... OHHHHH!" Lindsay squealed, encouraging her.
"Spread it wide open! Put your tongue in there!" Trish did
just that, and plenty more. That tongue shifted into erotic
overdrive as she again pistoned a trio of fingers in-and-out
of her succulent lover. Lindsay, of course, was squealing
and grunting like there was no tomorrow.
"OH MY! I'M GONNA CUM! I'M GONNA _CUUUUUMMMMM_!"
As Lindsay arched her neck and back high off the surface,
she squeezed her thighs tightly around Trish's blonde head.
Lindsay let out a truly deafening roar in the process as her
sweet, little pussy exploded in a sea of powerful sensations.
Trish moaned in response, her tongue never once stopping its
movement until she had lapped up all of the delicious juices.
And that, obviously, was not for at least a minute or two.
Trish was in no rush for anything to end...
In the aftermath, Lindsay sat up in the water, but kept
her thighs spread (and knees wide) so Trish could stay
between them. Trish rose up to her hands and knees and met
Lindsay's mouth with her own in a series of hot, sweltering
kisses. In no time flat, their breathing had become quite
ragged as they tried to devour each other's mouth.
When the kiss was broken, Trish had a look of adoration
and abiding love on her face. I could tell that she wanted
to drop everything right there and ask Lindsay to spend the
rest of her life with her. She probably wanted to marry her!
Before Trish could tell Lindsay just how insane she was
about her, the 18-year-old offered up another round of
heated, passionate kisses. I shook my head at the sight,
my cock hard as steel. I wanted to jump right between the
two of them and get in on some of this great action myself!
"Lie down for me, Trish," Lindsay murmured, grinning. "I
want to taste you."
Her eyes wide, Trish traded positions with Lindsay and
made good on the request. Lindsay immediately moved her
face between Trish's widespread thighs and went to work.
"Hmmmmm... your pussy is so tight!" was Lindsay's initial
comment, as she inserted a pair of fingers into those lush,
velvety folds and began to swipe away at them with her hot
tongue. "You taste so good, too!"
As Trish cooed and cavorted out in approval, she grabbed
her own breasts and massaged them roughly. The expression
on her face simply validated everything that I already knew.
Pamela may have been smitten with me. She proved that after
our scintillating encounter a few nights ago with her words
of devotion. Devon may have been in love with me. That had
become pretty apparent over the past couple of days. But for
as much as Devon and Pamela seemed to like me, Trish was
enthralled with Lindsay a thousand times more deeply.
Lindsay had become a little ball of fire as she swiped
and fingered Trish toward what promised to be a memorable
orgasm. Although she moaned and squealed, Trish was not as
vocal as I would have suspected her to be. Nonetheless,
Lindsay quickly brought her to the highest pinnacle of sexual
fulfillment. Trish's entire body rumbled and vibrated in the
sensations of joyous orgasm, her gaze now squarely locked
onto Lindsay. The teen-ager continued to lick and swipe
away at Trish's folds until they had been totally cleansed.
Although I could guarantee her satisfaction, Trish sat up
anyway and pulled Lindsay into her embrace. Both ladies
hugged and clutched each other in a truly fierce manner,
smashing their lips together for yet another intensive kiss.
"We need to have sex more often!" Lindsay remarked.
Her brown eyes glowing with a mixture of total lust and
undying devotion, Trish groaned and stared at Lindsay. She
was so smitten with Lindsay that it seemed as if her entire
body was glowing in the sunlight. Trish was in love!
Trish cupped Lindsay's chin with both hands and massaged
those lush, ruby-red lips with each of her thumbs. Giggling,
Trish bumped noses with Lindsay and again gazed into her
eyes. "Listen, baby," she whispered, her mouth mere inches
from Lindsay's face. "Have you ever been to Canada?"
Lindsay shook her head. "No. Why do you ask?"
"I live in [City Name]," Trish responded. "It is in the
province of Ontario and is not that far from Toronto. I
have lived in Canada my whole, entire life. I really love
it there." Trish paused for a moment, perhaps unsure of
what to say next. If that was indeed the case, she soon
came up with the words. "I have a really big home, but I
live there all by myself. It would be nice if I... if maybe
there was someone for me to... to share it with." Trish
erased any doubts of who that someone may be by pressing her
lips to Lindsay's cheek and kissing her there. "You..."
"You want me to move to Canada with you?" Lindsay asked,
her eyes wide and bulging. She was genuinely shocked at
Trish's sudden proposal of a possible long-term commitment.
Considering her age, that was perfectly understandable.
Trish grinned and licked her lips at the mere idea. "Why
not? I love you with all of my heart, Lindsay. I do." The
18-year-old suddenly appeared uncomfortable as Trish added,
"I would give you a good home. I would provide for you in
every sense of the word. You want to go to college and, if
you do not decide to enter the ministry, eventually become a
teacher, right? I would not want or even expect you to work.
You could concentrate on your university studies and become
the best student you could be. Or, you could look into
following in your father's footsteps and enter the ministry.
_I_ would do all of the work required for us to live and be
comfortable, and I would make sure that you have a lot of
spending money in your pocket at all times. I would never
ask for anything in return from you except one thing - for
you to be _my girl_. That is all I would want."
"Trish, I..."
"I would treat you like a princess," the ambitious Canuck
interjected. "From the time that I wake up in the morning
until the time I go to sleep at night, the thing that would
matter to me most is that you have a smile on that pretty,
little face of yours. It would really be the only thing that
matters to me." Trish paused, lost in thought for a moment.
"I would buy you presents, take you sight-seeing... we could
go on vacations. Anything you want, babydoll... it would be
yours. Let ME take care of you from now on. Let ME love
you. Give me your heart. I will give you the world..."
I could not read what exactly was on her mind right now,
but Lindsay's eyes were still about to burst as Trish took
her into her arms and offered a loving, heartfelt embrace.
Regardless, I had a big smile across my face here in the
voyeur room. Listening to Trish pour out her inner feelings
and emotions for Lindsay was quite touching. I am not one
bit ashamed to admit that it brought a few tears to my eyes,
either. I sincerely hoped that these two ladies would have
a strong, life-long relationship. If anything, I knew that
Trish was telling the truth. She would do whatever necessary
to make sure that Lindsay was well taken care of in life.
Every single word out of that woman's mouth was totally pure
and sincere, and straight from the heart. I knew that.
"You would get along really good with my family, too,"
Trish added, once her loving embrace with Lindsay, who still
appeared to be shell-shocked, ended. "My mom and dad have
known that I am bi-sexual for years. So have both of my
sisters, Christie and Melissa. Neither of them are that way,
but everyone accepts who and what I am, because they know it
makes me happy. They would treat you so well, baby. They
made my last girlfriend, Melina, feel like one of the family.
There would be nothing for you to hide, feel scared about.
We could be ourselves around them and not worry about it."
With Trish silent, at least for the time being, Lindsay
finally had the chance to speak. Obviously, the little minx
was flabbergasted because of what she had just been told.
So much so, in fact, that Lindsay stumbled over her words
before finally murmuring, "I... I don't want to leave...
leave O-O-Ohi-o. I... I love my own... family."
Trish took a deep breath and seemed to be lost in thought
for a brief moment, but then nodded her head as if she had
just come to a decision. "I thought you may say that, honey.
I know how close you are with your mom and your sisters -
especially after your father died last year. I never want to
live anywhere else but Canada because all of my family is
there, too. I love every single one of them the same way
that you love your own family."
Trish nodded her head once again. "But YOU are much more
important to me than my family, Lindsay. If you rather live
in Ohio, I will gladly move there just so I can be with you."
Lindsay gasped and sighed at those words as Trish continued,
"I'll sell my house in [City Name] and buy a new one in Ohio.
I'll get a job there, too. I'm sure it won't be difficult.
After all, I'm a certified fitness instructor with nine years
of experience. I'll still take care of you, provide for you.
I'll give you more love and affection than you could handle!"
Trish hugged Lindsay to her. "Oh God, baby... we will be
so happy together! So happy!"
Lindsay was so aghast and bamboozled by all of this that
she still could not give much of a response. Trish must have
sensed this, but seemed to take it in stride. She released
Lindsay from her arms and kissed her square on the nose.
"Oh, I know this is so sudden for you," Trish smiled. "I
know we have only known each other for one week. Throughout
my entire life, though, I have never once been more sure of
anything than I am about you and me. Destiny brought us
together! How else could I meet the absolute girl of my
dreams thousands and thousands of miles away from where I
live? You and I came to this island at the same time for a
reason, baby. It was destiny. Destiny brought us together."
"I don't care that you're an American and that I am from
Canada," Trish added. "I don't care that there is a 12 year
difference in our ages. I don't even care if you want to
keep our relationship a secret from your family. We could
just pose as friends, or house-mates, to them. We'll work
through all of that. As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine!"
Trish again hugged Lindsay to her. While this definitely
appeared to be one of the happiest moments of Trish's life -
first finding the _girl of her dreams_ and then professing
her undying love for her - I could not gauge what was going
through Lindsay's mind right now. As Trish clutched the
nubile young vixen with both arms, Lindsay just sat there
with the incoming tide washing up around her. Her face was
now emotionless and, quite frankly, her body was trembling.
Wait a minute... was that a good thing, or a bad thing?
* * *
"Are you serious?" Amy said to me, as the two of us were
lounging together next to the outdoor swimming pool an hour
or so later. "You can't be," she added, shaking her head in
a defiant manner. "You're lying to me. It's just too much
of a coincidence to be true."
"Of course I am serious, Miss Amy, and it is no lie," I
told her in resposne. "You and I grew up in the same town -
[City Name] - some 15 or 20 miles north of Cincinnati. And
lo and behold, we meet up with each other several thousands
of miles away on this picture-perfect tropical island." I
paused and added, "You still live in [City Name] today."
"Yes, I do," Amy nodded, seemingly relenting to the fact
that I was being truthful with her. "I have lived there for
most of my life... ever since I was age three, to be precise.
I was born in Kentucky." She seemed lost in thought for a
moment or two, but soon tilted her head at me and asked,
"When was the last time you lived in [City Name]?"
"January of 1987," I answered. "I was age 12 and that
was when my father got transferred in his job to New Jersey.
I was there for six years and he was transferred again, this
time to Los Angeles, and I lived there with him and my mom
until I branched out on my own and eventually settled on
this island some 17 years ago."
"When was the last time you were IN [City Name], then?"
"Just recently, actually," I informed her. "When my mom
and dad separated in 1998, my dad stayed in California and
my mom moved back home to Ohio - [City Name], actually. It
is where she lives today... I was just visiting her three
months ago. It has changed a lot from when I was younger."
"What street does she live on?"
"River Road."
Amy bit her lip and smiled. "That is less than a mile
from where I grew up - Bardes Drive. My parents still live
in that same house today."
"I think I know where that's at," were my words. "You
see, when Kristanna and I were going through the applications
for the island several months ago, I noticed that you and I
had the same hometown. Well, original hometown for me, at
least. It really stood out on the application and caught my
interest. I think it is really, really neat."
"Is that why you brought me to the island?" she wondered.
"It was one of the reasons, yes," I replied. "I like it
that you and I are linked together, in some small way."
"I have something that is even more strange," Amy mused.
"Do you know that I ran into Lindsay two years ago?" I shook
my head as she continued, "Lindsay was only 16. I went into
the supermarket where she works and bought some perfume from
her at the cosmetics counter one night. You know that she
lives and works just up the road in [City Name], right? I
remember buying perfume from her just like it was yesterday.
I had a hot date lined up that particular night."
"With someone other than your husband?"
Amy laughed. "Yeah, I admit it. I was going out with
someone other than my husband at the time. Maybe that is
why he divorced me. One of many reasons, actually." Amy
shrugged her shoulders and said, "After seeing and talking
to Lindsay that night, though, I wanted to go out with her
instead. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I still remember
how tight her ass looked in those little work pants. I did
not care that she was only 16. I figured that some things
in life may be worth going to jail for."
Now, I was the one laughing. "And little did you know
that you would meet up with Lindsay again, too - the same
place you met up with me. Several thousand miles and two
whole years later, here we are. My final choice for coming
to the island was Lindsay. It was either her, or another
18-year-old girl from California named Hayden. I debated
over it for a while, but chose Lindsay in the end. Lindsay
lives just 12 miles away from where you and I grew up."
"Is that why you chose her instead of Hayden?"
"Us Ohioans have to be stick together," I nodded. "Of
course, I haven't lived in Ohio since I was 12. Lindsay was
seven years away from even being conceived when I moved away
to New Jersey in 1987. Ohio, New Jersey, California, even a
short time in Oregon and now, of course, this island. But I
will always think of myself as an Ohioan. I was born there
and, more importantly, most of my family lives there today.
My mother, sister, oldest brother... cousins, aunts, and so
forth. My other brother lives next door in Kentucky."
"I was raised as an only child," Amy pouted. "I think I
was a mistake. I think my mother and father never wanted to
have kids. After I was born, my father got a vasectomy."
"How old was he?"
"24 at the time."
I cringed at those words. "I can see where you say that
they did not want to have kids. Your father getting a
vasectomy so young. Were they... good parents for you?"
Amy shook her head. "Not really. I cannot say that my
mom and dad ever did anything wrong to me, or mistreated me.
But they weren't there for me, either. I pretty much grew
up alone. I was a latch-key kid from the third grade on. I
was cooking and taking care of myself at a very early age.
It was a very lonely existence at times. My mom and dad
would be working a lot, they'd go out at night, leave me to
fend on my own. I got used to it eventually. I go to be
very independant and self-reliant."
"My father got a vasectomy after I was born, too," I told
her. "Difference was, though, I was their fourth child, and
he was 35. They did not want to have any more children." I
paused, lost in thought for a moment. "Actually, I guess I
was their fifth child. The fourth was stillborn in 1966,
eight years before me. Never had a chance."
"Stillborn?"
"Means that the baby was dead before delivery." Amy
groaned as I concluded, "I missed out on a second sister."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jeremy..."
I decided to lighten the subject. "I think it was the
second grade when my father went out and bought me a whole
bunch of _Strawberry Shortcake_ Christmas cards to give to
all the kids in our class." Amy sighed and huffed wildly in
response as I added, "Problem was, _Strawberry Shortcake_
was a doll for girls only. My father did not know that. I
wound up giving those stupid cards to everyone in our class.
All of the other boys made fun of me - saying I liked to
play with dolls." I chuckled at the memory. "It was BAD."
"I had a couple of _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls," Amy
recalled. "Oh my God... I haven't thought about them in
YEARS. I had _Strawberry Shortcake_ herself, _Custard the
Cat_, _Huckleberry Pie_, _Hopsalot Bunny_ and _Frappe the
Frog_. I think I also had _Apple Dumpling_ and _Tea Time
Turtle_." Amy shook her head and giggled. "I wonder what
happened to all my dolls from when I was younger. Probably
threw all of them into the garbage. I wish I kept them."
"Why is that?"
"They would be collector's items today," Amy commented.
"Worth a whole lot of money, you know. What type of toys
did you have back in those days, Jeremy?"
"_G.I. Joe_ and _Transformers_," I mused. "I grew up with
the _Transformers_. _Optimus Prime_ was my hero. He was the
leader of the Autobots." I laughed again. "I cannot believe
that we are sitting here, Amy, talking about childhood toys.
Of all the things we could be discussing, THIS is it..."
"This is neat, though!" Amy squealed. "This is bringing
back so many memories for me! I only wish you stayed in
Ohio, Jeremy, and you and I could have met earlier in life.
I would have definitely noticed you then. I would have been
after you big-time! But you moved to New Jersey in 1987,
though, and I was only four years old at the time. Wouldn't
it have been something if we were the same age and could have
went to the same schools together all the while growing up?"
I grinned at her words. "Were you wild and adventurous
in high school like you are now? I heard that you have five
boyfriends back home, right now, who gang-bang you each and
every weekend. Were you like that in high school, too?" I
already knew the answer to that question, of course.
Amy giggled. "The school basketball team had a nickname
for me - _B.J._ I went out with all of them. Sometimes, I
went out with two of them at a time. Or even three."
"I would have wanted you for myself."
"Really?" Amy cooed. "You like me that much?"
"I wouldn't want my girlfriend fooling around with other
guys," I explained. "Other girls, yes... that would be cool.
I could live with that. But not other guys."
Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I've just never found the
man who could make me settle down into a truly monogamous
relationship, where I would be content and happy forever. I
do not think that I will ever find that man..."
"What about your ex-husband?"
"I didn't love him and he didn't love me," Amy sniped.
"His name was Eddie, and he was black. The only reason I
married him - I know this sounds bad on my part, but it is
the truth - is because he had a 12 inch cock."
I shifted about in the lounge chair at poolside, suddenly
feeling small and very inferior. "12 inches? R-Really?"
"The sex between us was incredible at first, but it got
to the point over time where Eddie could no longer satisfy
me," Amy added. "That is when I started to stray, and have
sex with others. It led to the destruction of our marriage."
"Did Eddie love you?"
Amy shook her head. "No, he married me for the very same
reason I married him - the sex. Being a black man, I was a
trophy to him. A white trophy. You know that all black men
consider white girlfriends or wives to be a badge of honor.
I was a badge of honor to Eddie. A trophy. A WHITE trophy.
He loved bragging about me to others."
"If a man has 12 full inches and STILL cannot satisfy you,
Amy... is it even possible to satisfy you?"
"Total satisfaction goes much deeper than sex," she said.
"If someone really loved me, cared for me... and I felt the
same, exact way for him, I would be faithful. I would be
totally monogamous and committed to a one-on-one type of
relationship." Amy shrugged her shoulders and sighed deeply.
"You see, Jeremy... I've never really, truly been in love.
And... I do not think anyone has ever been in love with me.
In fact, I know that no one has."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why do you say that?"
Amy shrugged her shoulders once again, then offered a
nonchalant expression. "I think it is because no one,
besides maybe my ex-husband, really ever took the time to
get to know me as a person. Having sex and getting it has
always been so important to me. I guess maybe I developed
a reputation for those who have known me throughout the
years, and have never been able to shake it."
"What reputation is that?"
"That I'm a slut. A nymphomaniac. Someone who cares
about one thing, and one thing only - fucking. No one, I
think, has ever taken me seriously because of it."
"Have you given anyone a reason to take you seriously?"
Amy hesitated for a moment, then frowned. "I guess not."
"I take you seriously, Amy," I told her. "You and I have
had a neat discussion these past 10 or 15 minutes. Don't
you think? Our hometown, childhood toys... I truly enjoy
discussions like this. I really do. Sex is wonderful. I
am the first person to admit that. But there is more to
life than sex. I think that you need to realize that."
"But fucking is the only thing that I'm good at..."
"Oh... stop it, Amy," I snapped at her. "You're better
than that. I know it, and you know it."
"I think what you and Pamela are developing together is
very, very special," Amy said. "I wish that I could have
that type of relationship. It would make me so happy."
"You can," I countered. "All you need to do is open
yourself up, and let others see the real person inside of
you. Not the nymphomaniac that you claim to be."
"Just exactly who is the REAL person inside of me?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I don't really
believe that I have met her yet. But I would like to..."
Amy gulped her throat. "I'm really not sure if I know
who that person is myself."
"May I ask you a personal question?"
Amy shrugged her shoulders. "Sure."
"How did you lose your virginity? Who was it with?"
Amy's narrowed her eyes as she looked back at me. "Why
would you ask me something like that?"
I shook my head. "Just curious is all."
"With my neighbor when I was 14," she offered. "I left
my house keys at school one day by accident... had no other
way to get in. I asked my neighbor if I could stay with him
for a few hours until my parents got home from work."
"Neighbor the same age as you?"
"He was 53."
I coughed and nearly choked at the realization. "You had
sex with a 53-year-old man when you were 14? _14_?"
"Well, he was really nice," Amy defended herself. "I knew
that he liked me. He used to watch me go swimming in my pool
from his window each summer. We got to talking that one day
I stayed with him, one thing led to another and soon we..."
"I'm very sorry, but I don't want to hear about how a
53-year-old man went about taking advantage of you when you
were 14 and still a virgin," I said, cutting her words off.
In fact, the mere thought made me incredibly angry.
Amy crinkled her nose at me. "Well, you are the one who
asked how I lost my virginity. All I did was answer your
question." Was Amy offended that I cut her off like I did?
Her arms suddenly folded, it sure did seem that way.
"I'm sorry, dear," I frowned. "You're right, and I am
wrong. I just don't like hearing of stories like that."
"Why did you want to know about when I lost my virginity?"
"Really just wanted to know if it was special or not," I
informed her. I paused, contemplating things for a moment.
"You've had sex with over 50 people in your young life, Amy.
You have five boyfriends, all of whom are black, at home in
Ohio who like to gang-bang you every weekend. You even told
me that you once had sex with 20 guys, all at once. Seems to
me that your marriage to Eddie was nothing but a colossal
mistake." I took a deep breath and shook my head. "You have
led a very hard life, Amy. Haven't you?"
She seemed agitated with me. "What's your point?"
"I just think that, down-deep, you are better than this."
"Better than WHAT?"
"I'm not trying to make you angry, sweetheart. You said
that no one takes you seriously. You wish you could have a
relationship like the one I am trying to build with Pamela?
Those are your own words. Wasn't it fun to just sit here
and TALK with me a few minutes ago? Talk about the unique
link we have - our hometown, _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls
and _Transformers_? Wasn't it fun to sit here and have a
discussion with no sexual overtones whatsoever? To just sit
here and talk about silly stuff? You have it in you, Amy."
"Have what in me?"
"The ability to do that," I stressed. "The ability to
make people laugh at what you say. The ability to make
people be interested in you for something other than sex."
Amy still appeared to be agitated with me, so I trapped her
right hand between both of my palms and brought it to my
lips. After planting a kiss on the tips of her fingers, I
looked deep into her eyes and reiterated, "I'm not trying to
make you mad, Amy. I'm really not. I want to help you. I
want you to be happy. That is all I really want for you."
She tilted her head and offered me a disapproving glare.
"And just how exactly do I go about being happy in life?"
"I'm eight years older than you, Amy. I have been very
unhappy and depressed almost my whole, entire life - for a
wide variety of reasons. I realized a while back that there
were certain things that I had to change about my life, or I
would never have the chance of being happy. That is one
reason why you and all of the other girls are here right now.
The past week with all of you in my life has made me happier
than I have ever felt before. I have spent the last 17 years
all by myself, in total isolation. For that to change, _I_
had to change. I had to take the initiative."
"What exactly are you saying?"
I kissed her fingertips again. "You want to be happy,
Miss Amy. You want others to take you seriously. You want
others to like you for the person that is inside of you.
That will never happen unless you give people a REASON to
take you seriously, or a reason to like you for the person
that is inside of you." I shrugged my shoulders at her.
"Remember last Tuesday? Your second day here?"
"Yeah..."
"We all know that Lindsay is very shy, very humble, Amy.
Lindsay was very nervous her first couple of days here, too.
Yet there you are, before breakfast Tuesday morning, talking
to Lindsay in a fashion that you should not have been doing.
What was it? You asked her if she had ever thought about
becoming a stripper like Pamela is. You told the girl to
her face that you would pay her if you could have sex with
her." I shook my head and added, "Amy, the girl was a
virgin. You knew that. Very shy, humble, religious. You
did not set a very good example for yourself with the others
that day. After hearing that, most people would not even
want to get to know you as a person. Lindsay is this very
sheltered girl from a small town. Yet you tease her about
becoming a stripper, you insinuate prostitution with her."
I took a deep breath. "Do you understand what I am saying
to you? You want people to like you as a person. In order
to do that, you HAVE to do things that will draw people to
you. What you said to Lindsay that day, though... all it
did was push the other girls further away from you. They
will not take you seriously if you say things like that. Am
I the first person, except perhaps Pamela since she is your
room-mate, who has sat down and really had a one-on-one
discussion with you thus far? There is a reason for that."
Amy's expression was lifeless as she stared back at me
for several seconds, her eyes empty. "I... I've been this
way my whole life. I... I can't change."
"Yes you can," I insisted. "There is nothing wrong with
being a little wild, a little kinky, and enjoying sex.
Nothing wrong at all. But you have to control yourself.
YOU have to watch what you say to others, Amy. Don't let
sex rule your life. You even told me earlier that sex is
the only thing that you are good at." I shook my head at
her and implored, "Both you and I know that is not true."
"What else am I good at then?"
"Amy, we were talking about our hometown and the toys we
played with while growing up," I reminded her. "You made ME
laugh. You made ME feel good. Nothing we spoke of had any
sexual overtones to it. We were having a good, little
discussion. I enjoyed that. I enjoyed talking to you that
way. I saw a glimpse of the person that is inside of you.
I liked her, Amy. Let the others see that side of you."
Amy laughed. "I don't know, Jeremy, whether I should be
angry at you for saying all of this crazy stuff to me, or if
I should be grateful that you're trying to help."
I released her hand from my grasp. "All I am doing, Amy,
is trying to help. One thing you will learn about me is
that I am incredibly up-front and honest. I've been more
honest than I really should have been with Pamela and Devon.
Trish, as well. And now you, of course. Amy, I don't like
you telling me that no one takes you seriously or that the
only thing you are good at is sex. That is why I said all
of these things to you. I gave you my opinion. You have
the ability to change whatever is wrong in your life. Before
that happens, though, you have to give the effort. Believe
me, I know exactly what I am talking about here."
Amy glanced downward as if she feeling hollow inside. "I
have never been in love with anyone, my whole life."
"Not even your ex-husband..."
Amy laughed in a negative manner. "Definitely not Eddie.
All it was with him was sex. All it has ever been with
anyone for me is sex. Pamela and Camille, too..."
"You can have sex and love at the same time," I told her.
"Look at Trish and Lindsay. They are ALL OVER each other.
Yet, at the same time, Trish and Lindsay are in love."
"Trish is in love with Lindsay," Amy commented. "Not the
other way around." I was about to respond to those words and
ask what they were based on, but Amy spoke up before me. "I
want someone to look at me the same way that Devon seems to
look at you, Jeremy. Devon was telling me before breakfast
that you are the nicest guy she has ever met. It was like
she was glowing. Just glowing. Floating in the clouds, or
something. Devon is madly in love with you. Obviously, the
same can be said for Pamela. She loves you, too."
I smiled at those words. "You think so?"
Amy sighed. "She denies it - why I do not know - but
Kristanna is totally in love with you too, Jeremy."
"WHAT?" I asked, caught off-guard.
"Kristanna is in love with you," Amy reiterated. "I can
tell by the way that she looks at you, talks to you. It is
all in the body language. She is CRAZY about you, Jeremy."
"Are you serious?" I exclaimed.
"Ask her," Amy suggested, shrugging her shoulders. "The
girl will never lie to you. Ask her, and she will tell you."
I nodded my head. "I may just have to do that, then." I
contemplated Amy's words for several seconds, then decided
to return to an earlier topic. "Have you ever thought about
going to see a doctor, Amy? A psychiatrist?"
Her eyes narrowed at me. "A... a psychiatrist? Why?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Seems to me that it may do you
a world of good. You obviously have issues with self-esteem
and self-confidence, yet there is no legitimate reason for
you to feel that way. You are a very beautiful woman and, as
I have learned today, a very outgoing and witty one, too."
"I don't need to see no psychiatrist..."
"The medicine that is out there in the world - available
to you if you are willing to give it a chance - it can work
absolute wonders for you," I informed her. "Medication can
help stabilize your everyday mood, Amy. It can help make you
feel better about yourself and, in turn, help others to see
you in a much different and better light."
"How so?"
"You told me that no one takes you seriously," I reminded
her. "People think that you are a nymphomaniac. That is
what you think and perceive. Well, the proper medication
would improve your own self-image. Your self-image is what
you portray to others. If you think that the general person
does not take you seriously, Miss Amy, then you are probably
right. You have to take yourself seriously first." I took
a deep breath and smiled gently. "A few minutes ago, at
least, you took yourself seriously. What happened was, for
that short time, you and I had a wonderful discussion. It
was silly, fun. If you let others see that side of you, Amy,
they would feel interested in you as a person like I did."
Amy offered me a quizzical expression. "I need to talk
about _Strawberry Shortcake_ dolls with everyone?"
I laughed at her assumption. "No, not quite. Just open
yourself up, and let others see the real person that is
inside of you. I really believe that the proper medication
would help you out in so many ways, Amy. It would help
stabilize your mood, instead of being way up one minute and
way down the next. It would help with your self-image...
the way you feel inside. It would help you feel much more
confident and at ease with yourself. It would not be so
difficult for you to have a normal discussion with people."
"Ain't no pill going to do all that for me," Amy said,
her tone defiant. I sighed in response as she continued,
"There is no pill in the world that will make others look at
me as anything other than a slut... a cheap thrill."
"The medicine would help improve your self-image and your
outlook on life," I stressed. "Having a better self-image of
yourself, Amy, means that others will see you that way, too."
I sighed again. "Going to the doctor and giving it a try
will certainly not hurt you."
"I don't need to go see some head shrinker," Amy told me,
using a term which referred to psychiatrists in a negative
light. "All they do is sit there and listen to all of your
problems, and charge $200 an hour for it."
"It will be my $200," I told her. "You agree to go and
see a psychiatrist over in Peru, Amy, and I will pay for it.
I will pay for whatever medication you are given, too. I
see a psychiatrist myself. The medicine that I take has done
a world of wonders for me. There is a really good doctor in
Lima. I could get you an appointment with him..."
Amy seemed to contemplate things for a moment or two, but
ultimately shook her head. "No. Thanks... but no thanks."
"Why?"
"Ain't no pill going to help me," she reiterated.
"Amy!..." I pleaded with her.
"Look, I appreciate the fact that you are trying to help,"
she countered. "A psychiatrist may work for some people, but
one would never work for me." I was about to offer her a few
more words of protest, but Amy stood up from the table and
quickly said, "I think I am going back inside to get a drink.
I could use a shot of bourbon. Or maybe two..."
With that, Amy turned and retreated into the mansion.
Defeated (for the time being), I hung my head low and
slumped down in the chair. Of course, I based my suggestion
that Amy go see the doctor because the profiler software I
had used to evaluate all potential applicants before making
the final decision on who to bring to the island speculated
that she may suffer from _Cyclothymic Personality Disorder_.
Thus far, with this being her eighth day here, I had not seen
anything from Amy to deter that prognosis.
Not only had I witnessed rapid mood swings from her on
several occasions, but Amy was clearly a very depressed
individual. Those are the two key signs of someone who
suffers from Cyclothymia. The additional fact that Amy
was hyper-sexual also hinted that she may indeed suffer
from Cyclothymia, since the two were often linked together
by medical experts. Even if her exact disorder was not
Cyclothymia, there was clearly something wrong with Amy.
Everyone has days when they are feeling unhappy or down.
But for those suffering from depression and its related
illnesses, that feeling is constant and much more severe.
Depression is wanting to go to sleep and hoping that you
never wake up. Depression is a deep, dark hole that can
swallow a person alive. A hole that keeps getting deeper
and deeper until you cannot see the light any more. Just
a nothingness that absolutely consumes you and your entire
soul. Believe me, I know what I am talking about here.
It may very well be the worst feeling that anyone can have.
As I have stated in prior chapters, I suffered from a
mild to moderate form of depression called dysthymia. I
understood where Amy was coming from in her refusal to seek
medical help for whatever specific problem may ail her. I
used to feel the same, exact way.
After my ex-fiancee left me in 1993, I went through 16
years of Hell because dysthymia set in and had a stronghold
on everything that I did in life. It was not until I met
Kristanna, who convinced me that I needed professional help,
that I finally broke down and went to see a psychiatrist over
on the mainland. Of course, it was literally a fight for
Kristanna to finally get me to change my mind and agree to
seek help. But she kept persisting and because of that, I
could not be anymore thankful to her than I am today.
The medication (_Effexor_) that I took on a daily basis
was a Godsend for me. For several years, I felt tired and
discouraged at all times. I was physically weak. I was
drowning in pain and it was a struggle just to get out of
bed every morning. I had lost all interest in life and, to
a great extent, even my own family (one reason why I lived
on a small, secluded island in the middle of the ocean with
no one else generally around in sight).
But once I went to the doctor and began taking _Effexor_,
my life and everything about it seemed to change (for the
better) over the course of the next couple of months. I had
more energy and felt renewed interest in daily activities.
No longer was I focusing on the many reasons why I felt my
life was not worth living anymore. Instead, I had gained a
new perspective on things and was looking forward to what
each day presented me with. I was, in essence, alive again.
Now, I found myself on the opposite end of the spectrum.
I was the one who would have to do everything that I could
to convince Amy that it would be in her best interests if
she were to seek some type of help. There was no reason for
a woman as beautiful and as potentially charming as Amy most
certainly was to feel as if no one cared about her, or wanted
to get to know her as a person. No reason at all.
<<<- End of Chapter 8 ->>>
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"Island Fever"
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