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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 25: Control -----------------------------------------------------
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Instead of admiring the heavenly white powdered sand of
the beach below or the calm, turquoise waters of the ocean,
I instead found myself shaking my head as I stood at one of
the large floor-to-ceiling windows within the grand suite
that I shared with my newly-minted fiancee. "This figures,"
I pouted inwardly, as a heavy downfall of rain was bulleting
itself upon the mansion and all other places on the island.
The picturesque blue, sunny skies that were a hallmark of
this island paradise had temporarily given way to a dark and
dreary outlook during this late-day afternoon. It had been
raining for the past couple of hours, but at least there was
no lightning or thunder to go along with the precipitation.
At least that was good news for Lindsay, simply because she
was deathly afraid of electrical storms. Of course, Lindsay
was once struck by lightning when she was five years old.
Usually, the weather here never bothered me one way or the
other. Oftentimes, I could care less whether it rained or
shined. However, I was very disappointed with the current
conditions because I had plans of inviting all of the ladies
to a beach barbeque party later tonight. I wanted it be a
celebration for Kristanna, who had accepted my proposal of
marriage a mere 24 hours ago. The rain, however, was not
supposed to let up until sometime tomorrow afternoon. Yes,
indeed... life in the tropics. Unfortunately, it appeared as
if all of us would be staying indoors tonight.
Once hearing the door open behind me, I turned and offered
Kristanna a faint, shallow smile as she stepped into our
suite and slowly made her way over to me. "What's wrong,
Jeremy?" the Norwegian asked, an inquisitive expression upon
her elegant face. "You don't look too happy."
I flipped my wrist in the direction of the large window
and complained, "Ahh, it's just the weather. We have had
nothing but sun and blue skies for the past week or so.
The ONE DAY it rains in that time, it has to be TODAY."
Kristanna took a deep breath and offered, "It's okay,
baby. We can have just as much fun inside the mansion as
we would down at the beach. How about some fish and steak?
You know that Louisa will fix whatever we ask her to for
dinner. And when the weather clears up, we can have that
beach party." Kristanna nuzzled up behind me and wrapped
her arms around my sternum, the side of her face nestled
against the back of my neck. "I've always liked the rain."
"I don't mind it," I frowned, reaching down and placing
my hands upon Kristanna's arms as they encircled my midriff.
"I just wish it wasn't raining TODAY." I turned my face to
the side and eyed Kristanna appreciatively as she kept her
own face nestled upon my neck. "What's up, peaches?"
"Peaches?" Kristanna countered, taking a step back and
offering me a curious expression.
"Yes... peaches," I grinned. "You don't look too happy,
either. Is everything okay?"
"I hurt my knee somehow sparring with Trish this morning,"
she answered, which caused me to immediately turn around and
glance downward. "It's been bothering me all day long."
"Is it something serious?" I asked, now reaching out and
grasping Kristanna's hand. I dropped down to one knee myself
and appraised the shape and contours of both of her legs.
Neither knee appeared to be swollen or even bruised.
"It's my right one," she informed me, pointing toward it.
"I don't think it's anything serious. It just hurts."
"Did Trish accidentally kick you in the leg, or hit you
there, during your sparring match?"
"No," the 23-year-old responded. "I twisted it somehow.
I was practicing roundhouse kicks and landed wrong."
"You two are going to seriously hurt each other one day,"
I told her, reaching out and gently grasping her right knee.
"I have nothing against you and Trish being total experts in
martial arts and kick-boxing, of course, but why you find the
need to spar with her every single morning is beyond me. One
of these days, you may wind up seriously hurting each other."
"It's fun," Kristanna sniped in return. "Plus, it's not
all that often that women our age are into this sort of
thing. Most women don't even know a thing about the martial
arts. This is something wonderful and unique that Trish and
I have in common. She's only supposed to be here a little
more than two weeks longer, you know, before going home. I
won't have anyone to spar with then..."
I leaned downward and planted a series of kisses along
Kristanna's right kneecap. "Does that make it feel any
better?" I asked, hopeful.
"Oh yes... much better," Kristanna giggled, shifting and
fidgeting her leg about in a subtle manner. "Much better."
She then smirked and added in a playful tone, "Of course,
when Trish returns home, there might just be a sparring
partner for me on the island after all."
"Oh? Who might that be?" I could not envision Devon or
Pamela practicing hand-to-hand combat with Kristanna. Who
was she talking about? Who could be her sparring partner
once Trish returned home to Canada?
"You," the my fiancee proclaimed. "Or better yet, Jeremy,
your face! I could use it as a punching bag!"
As usual, Kristanna made me laugh. She rarely failed to
do so. Acting all offended, I shot back, "That's not very
nice! How can you say such a horrible thing about me after
everything I've done for you?" I shook my head and gasped
for an added effect. It was all in fun with her.
"Am I interrupting anything?" came a familiar, squealy
voice from the entranceway to our suite. Still perched on
one knee, I moved my head and peered past Kristanna's leg.
A smile then came to my face as I saw Devon at the door,
her arms folded, as she looked back at us. It must have
been awfully strange for her to see me on a single knee in
front of Kristanna, as I caressed and kissed her own knee.
"You know... if I'm interrupting anything, I can come
back." Devon offered us a peculiar, yet comical expression
and chirped, "You two crazy kids decide to go and get engaged
and all... and now you're acting all funny. It is not normal
to see a man on his knees in front of a woman."
"Oh... you silly girl!" Kristanna retorted, giggling. "I
hurt my knee earlier during sparring with Trish, and Jeremy
is simply trying to make it feel better... with kisses!"
"Oh..." Devon countered, her spirits suddenly high. "Oh!
I see now. I can understand that." She tilted her head to
the side and asked, "You hurt your knee? Is it bad?"
As I rose to my feet, Kristanna turned toward Devon and
answered, "I'll live. I just twisted it somehow. If it was
something bad, it would hurt a lot more than it does. It
will feel fine in a day or two, I am sure."
"How are the rest of the girls doing?" I asked Devon.
"They're disappointed because of the weather," she told
me. "They were looking forward to that big beach party you
had planned. Lindsay and Camille had plans of taking a hike
up to the ridge beforehand, but I told them not to. It is
MUCH too dangerous with all of this rain. I told them that
you would throw a fit if either of them went outside."
"It is best that everyone stays inside," Kristanna mused.
"This island and its terrain can be very trecherous when it
rains. Trust me, I know from first-hand experience."
"Did Lindsay and Camille agree to stay inside the mansion,
then?" I asked, suddenly worried. Kristanna was right - the
island was not a place to be when the weather was frightful.
It was best that everyone simply stay indoors.
"Yeah," Devon answered. "They didn't go out."
Relieved, I took a deep breath. "Good, I am glad."
"What do you think, Jeremy?" Kristanna inquired. "Do you
think we can have some fun today staying inside the mansion?
We can re-schedule the beach party for tomorrow or Saturday.
The weather is supposed to be much nicer on Saturday."
Devon turned toward Kristanna with a vibrant smile upon
her face. "Do you know what I think about YOU, Krissy honey?
You are 30 percent playful, 60 percent sweet and 110 percent
sexy! I love you so, so much..."
Kristanna was glowing at those words of appreciation from
Devon. "Wow... a full 200 percent. I feel honored!" She
closed the short distance between herself and Devon, and
wrapped both arms around her for an endearing embrace. She
then glanced my way and cooed, "Look at Devvy being all nice
and complimentary all of a sudden. She must want some!"
"I imagine you'll be happy to give her some," I murmured.
Devon smiled at me for a brief moment, then licked her
lips and pressed them upon Kristanna's for an exploratory
kiss. Both ladies moaned with obvious arousal as they
caressed each others' bodies with their hands, their lips
and tongues dancing together in a blissful symphony. I
reached down and rubbed the newfound bulge in my shorts...
"You know I love you," Devon moaned upon their shared
kiss, her velvety tongue gliding and twirling like crazy
within Kristanna's mouth. I smiled as Devon then wrapped her
arms around Kristanna's tall, slender body, only to then
openly grope and squeeze the Norwegian's denim-clad ass. "I
want to have sex with you and Jeremy right now, Krissy."
Devon splayed a series of kisses all along her girlfriend's
neck and shoulder area, saying, "A three-some..."
"Oh yeah..." I groaned, reaching into my shorts and then
whipping out my hardening cock. I immediately began to
stroke it as Kristanna and Devon, still locked together in
their embrace, retreated to the large bed and then rolled
and wrestled around in a feverish, erotic manner.
Now on top, Kristanna broke the kiss and growled with
mad lust as she literally ripped Devon's black halter-top
right from her body. Devon giggled and squealed with her
own arousal, as she then reached up and caressed Kristanna's
own breasts through the camisole which she wore.
Once Kristanna disposed of Devon's white, silky bra, I
inhaled sharply at the mere sight of her very large, firm
breasts. The pair of ladies gazed lovingly at one another
for an instant, then smashed their mouths together for yet
another intensive, soul-burning type of kiss.
Kristanna sighed and rolled her head about as Devon used
both hands to violently massage and grope her little, sweet
ass. At the same time, Kristanna used her own hands to cup
and squeeze Devon's full, exotic breasts. All the while, of
course, their mutual kiss reached even greater proportions.
As they continued to squirm and writhe about upon the
bed, Devon slid her hands between their pressed bodies and
then unbuttoned Kristanna's cut-off shorts. She peeled the
tight denim, as well as the G-string, from Kristanna's hips.
With both garments now at mid-thigh, Kristanna squealed and
yelped as Devon offered her ass a hard smack with her hand.
"Spank me... will you?" Kristanna taunted Devon, breaking
their kiss in the process. Her hands were moving in a
continual motion as she pawed and squeezed Devon's breasts.
"We all know that you're the naughtiest girl around here."
"I am NOT naughty!" Devon huffed, in her own defense.
"Yes you are."
"No I'm not!"
"Tramp," Kristanna accused Devon of, albeit playfully.
Devon took a moment before countering, "Whore!"
"Bitch!" Kristanna shot back.
"Skank!"
"Trollop!"
"Fuck hole!"
"Cock-sucker!"
"Pussy-muncher!"
"Hmmmmm... munch ME," Kristanna suddenly purred, rolling
away from Devon upon the bed and opening her firm thighs.
Kristanna smiled at Devon as she maneuvered her shorts and
G-string the rest of the way down her long, luscious legs.
Kristanna then spread her thighs once more, snaking a hand
between them and twiddling her own clitoris with a finger.
I watched with great appreciation as Devon rose from the
bed and then slid her own shorts and panties the rest of the
way down her shapely hips and thighs. At the same time,
Kristanna got her rid of her green camisole top, as well as
her bra. She proceeded to cup her own breasts, her luminous
eyes fixated upon Devon as she lovingly gazed up at her.
Before descending upon her snack - Kristanna's pussy -
Devon turned her head and looked at me. By now, of course,
I had a full erection as I stood silently in the background,
my right hand busy stroking away.
"Are you gonna join us?" Devon asked, offering me a
curious expression. "Or are you just gonna whack-off?"
"I can think of a million more good uses for a nice, hard
cock than that," Kristanna purred in a very seductive tone,
her pretty eyes now trained squarely upon me. "I'd hate for
it to go to waste on your hand."
"I could just stand here and watch you two girls do your
thing," I told them, my breathing somewhat ragged. "Nothing
gets me going more than seeing two gorgeous women having sex
together. It would make me happy."
"You really are a voyeur..." Devon giggled. She motioned
for me with her head and purred, "Come on... join us."
I smiled and nodded my own head, then Devon lunged forward
and landed upon the bed. She latched onto Kristanna's hips
with both hands and licked her lips, then drove her exquisite
face between those spread thighs and went straight to town.
Flat on her back upon the mattress, Kristanna groaned and
cooed in response as Devon offered her sensitive clitoris a
series of long, slow lashes with her tongue. I hesitated for
an instant at the mere sight, as both ladies were completely
nude and squirming together upon the bed. However, I finally
decided to grant Devon's request. I moved in for a look...
"Oh yeah..." Kristanna purred, her body vibrating with
arousal, as she motioned for me to step even closer to her.
I did just that - moving directly beside her as she lounged
on the bed, her inner thighs gripping Devon's head as that
skillful tongue continued to probe away upon her folds.
Kristanna reached out with her right hand and grasped my
hard, aching erection, then gently pulled me even closer.
Using her left elbow, she propped herself up and lunged her
head toward my cock. Before I knew what had happened next,
my shaft was in her mouth and she was busy slurping away.
I tossed my head back and sighed in sheer wanderlust for
a moment, then re-focused upon Kristanna as she continued to
offer me a very slow and meticulous blowjob. With her right
hand gripping the thick base of my erection, she pumped and
squeezed it while gently worshiping its head with her lips.
"Aren't you priceless..." I commented, reaching down with
my right hand and cupping one of Kristanna's firm breasts.
She smiled up at me, her mouth still stuffed full of my cock.
I then leaned over and traced the back of my right hand upon
Devon's shoulder as she was nestled between Kristanna's
thighs, offering up her own brand of oral homage.
As a direct result of Devon's curious tongue, a series of
moans and sighs were emanating from deep within Kristanna as
she gently worked my erection into a slow-burning frenzy. I
again massaged one of her breasts, then moved that hand
upward and caressed the side of her face in a loving manner.
All of a sudden, however, Kristanna withdrew my cock from
her mouth and then sprung off the bed and landed on her feet
before me. Devon, who had been licking and swiping away at
Kristanna's pussy with her tongue, looked up at us with an
odd expression. Why did Kristanna cut things off so quickly?
"I think it's high time that I find me a strap-on dildo,"
the 23-year-old purred, glancing down at Devon momentarily,
who then grinned with pure anticipation in response.
"But I wanted to make you cream your pussy," Devon said
to her, now pouting somewhat. "It was like being in the
middle of a gourmet dinner, then having it taken away."
Kristanna laughed at that unique analogy and countered,
"You'll get your chance, baby. I just want to make you cry
out and scream like never before with a strap-on dildo."
She grinned and wryly added, "I have an Amy Special..."
"An Amy Special?" Devon gushed, suddenly overcome with
hot lust. "Amy let you borrow one of her big monsters?"
"Oh yes," Kristanna responded, her eyes flashing. "All
15 inches of it. Amy calls it The Black Cobra."
Devon whined and fretted, "I can only take ten inches in
me. You know that, Krissy. I bottom-out after ten."
The Norwegian shrugged her shoulders and grinned, "We're
going to see whether or not you can take 15 inches anyway."
As Devon squealed in response to those ominous, naughty
words, Kristanna shuffled off and entered the walk-in closet
here in our luxury suite. I figured that must have been
where she hid Amy's king-sized dildo. I did notice, however,
that she seemed to be favoring her injured right knee a bit.
Still clearly aroused because of what was on the horizon
for her, Devon reached out and grasped my wrist, then begged,
"Lick my pussy, Jeremy. Please lick it. I need it bad..."
Obviously, I could never turn down such a request.
I climbed onto the bed with the beautiful princess as she
turned over onto her back. After Devon spread her thighs
and offered me an inviting, sultry expression, I smiled and
moved in for what promised to be a succulent taste.
"Oh yeah..." Devon cooed, her pleasure evident, as my
tongue made its initial contact with her damp, wondrous
pussy. "Oh yeah, Jeremy. Yeeeeah." Her words encouraging
me to go further, I glided my tongue in very slow, languid
circles upon the intoxicating folds of her slit.
Needless to say, Devon's silky depths tasted absolutely
wonderful to my hungry, probing tongue. Of course, I let
her know this through a series of compliments.
"Hmmmmm," I gently moaned, my tongue continually swirling
about. "Such a pretty, little pussy. Oh yes... delicious
too. It even smells all nice and perfect."
The 27-year-old's body tensed with sheer arousal once I
began swiping my tongue over and across her little nub of a
clitoris. Devon squealed in response, then reached down
with both hands and grasped the crown of my head in a very
appreciative manner. She weaved her fingers throughout my
hair, her gentle moans acting as music to my ears.
"Do you like me licking your sweet, little pussy?" I
asked her, my voice teasing. "Do you, Devon? How does my
tongue feel on it? Would you like some fingers, too?"
"Oh yes..." she panted in return. "Please!"
"Aren't you the most precious thing?" I asked, inserting
a pair of fingers into the tender depths of her pussy. I
watched as Devon squinted her eyes, the expression upon her
face awash with lustful arousal. Then, I began to steadily
jam both fingers in-and-out of her lush, damp folds.
Meanwhile, I went back to concentrating on her clitoris
with my tongue. I flicked and dabbed away at it repeatedly,
while thrusting two fingers from my right hand hard and fast
into her depths. My left hand had a firm hold on the side
of her hip, caressing and massaging it.
"Do you know just how much I care about you?" I asked, my
tongue now a blur. "Do you know that I would do any and
everything to put a smile on your face? Hmmmmm... what a
delicious pussy. I'll just have this for dinner tonight."
While with my collection of ladies - especially Kristanna
and Devon - I was not always the most oral-minded of men. I
figured they did a much better job of pleasuring each other
with their lips and tongues than I ever could, simply because
they were women and knew exactly which buttons to press.
However, on those rare occasions when I did go in for a
taste, I always put forth my maximum effort, and wanted to
do nothing but make whomever I was with absolutely explode
in sheer, white-hot passion. It was my only duty. As of
late, it seemed, I had been performing a lot of oral sex.
"That feels so good..." Devon panted, her breathing rough
and ragged. "God, Jeremy... yes! Lick me! OOOOOH YEAH!"
The muscles in my forearm were clenched and felt as if
they would burst as I repeatedly hammered a pair of fingers
in-and-out of Devon's overheated slit. That, along with my
probing tongue, had brought Devon to the edge of release.
Now, it was time for her to topple over and fall from it.
To achieve that goal, I shifted my tongue into erotic
overdrive and throttled her pussy even harder than before
with my fingers. Soon, Devon was squealing and grunting out
in wild, intense passion, her voluptuous body writhing and
bucking about in the most extreme of sensations beneath me.
I growled and roared out in my own desire once Devon's
pussy literally exploded underneath my advances. A fresh
flow of delicious cream, which I eagerly lapped up with my
tongue, oozed from the confines of her imploding labia. I
also kept two fingers buried deep inside of her, wiggling
them about, only adding to her already immense pleasure.
"HMMMMM..." she purred seconds later, finally relaxing
her thighs while moaning in satisfaction. "God, Jeremy...
God! Hmmmmm... thank you. I really needed that."
I planted my lips upon Devon's little pussy one final
time, offering it a delicate kiss, before trailing my mouth
and lips upward. I stopped my slow ascent at her abdomen,
then playfully dabbed at her belly button with my tongue.
All the while, of course, Devon cradled my head with both
hands and continued weaving her fingers throughout my hair.
"Coming through..." Kristanna cooed, gently brushing me
off toward the side as she dropped down upon the mattress in
front of Devon. "Make way! Coming through..."
"GOD, YES!" Devon exclaimed, gasping, her eyes wide and
nearly set to burst. Kristanna giggled in response, then
gripped and began to stroke the enormous, black dildo that
protruded outward from her pelvis as if it were a real cock.
"Once you go black, you never go back," Kristanna taunted
Devon, being her usual, playful self. She maneuvered herself
between Devon's spread thighs and proclaimed, "I'm gonna fuck
you harder than you've ever been fucked before!"
"YES!" Devon answered, her squealy voice full of eagerness
and anticipation. "Give it to me! GIVE IT TO MEEEEE!"
"Why don't you get on your hands and knees... so I can
fuck you like the bitch that you really are?"
Both ladies snickered at the playful remark as Devon did
what she was asked to do. The gorgeous blonde assumed the
position, then looked over her shoulder and smiled, waiting
for Kristanna to make her own move.
It did not take long. Holding and stroking the big dildo,
Kristanna dropped down to her knees behind Devon and quickly
prepared to mount her in the doggie-style position. Not a
few seconds had passed before Kristanna first eased the huge
dong into her girlfriend, then began violently pumping away.
Devon screamed out as her expression went tight with an
equal mixture of pain and pleasure. Still, however, she
managed to look back over her shoulder at Kristanna, urging
her to continue and hammer away even harder.
Kristanna did just that, as she gripped Devon's ass with
both hands and used it as a balancing point. It also gave
her the opportunity to hump and thrust away upon Devon at
an even faster and more highly intensive rate of speed.
Devon's loud and deafening screams confirmed that, as
she roared and cried out; her sounds echoing throughout our
private suite. I was busy stroking my cock once again while
watching Kristanna's trim, slender body churn back-and-forth
in a continual, frenetic pace, the massive dildo thrusting
and pumping into Devon's sweet pussy at warp-speed.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Devon screamed at the top of her
lungs, as Kristanna absolutely pummeled her with the strap-on
dildo. "OH MY GOD... THAT THING IS TEARING ME APART! OH MY
FUCKING GOD... I'M GONNA CUM! AND I'M GONNA CUM HARRRRRD!"
With one final plunge into her pussy, Kristanna grabbed
Devon by the shoulders and hair, and held on tight as the
vociferous 27-year-old experienced an earth-shaking orgasm.
Her body vibrated and rumbled about as she kept the side of
her face upon the mattress, a series of nasty expletives and
phrases of lust absolutely streaming from her pretty mouth.
Kristanna kept the dildo embedded within her, luxuriating in
both Devon's sheer beauty and her genuine, loud reaction.
It turned out to be a fairly explosive conclusion...
"I thought we were going to double-fuck her," Kristanna
said to me with a pout in the aftermath, glancing at my
rock-solid erection. "You should have fucked her mouth or
ass with your cock while I fucked her pussy with my dildo."
"I'm glad he didn't fuck me," Devon countered, which was
somewhat of a surprise, once Kristanna finally withdrew the
massive dildo from within the soaked confines of her pussy.
She turned over and rose up to her knees, then focused her
gaze upon Kristanna and said, "You. I want Jeremy to fuck
YOU." Kristanna smiled at those words as Devon added, "I
want to help put his cock in you, too."
"Oh," Kristanna grinned, happy. "That sounds great!" As
she then unbuckled the leather harness of the strap-on dildo,
letting it fall and topple harmlessly to the mattress beneath
us, Kristanna rolled over onto her back and glared up at both
Devon and yours truly with an expectant look upon her face.
Devon cradled Kristanna's head with her hands and smiled
down at her. "I'm gonna get you with a strap-on too, honey.
Eventually." She then leaned over and pressed her lips to
Kristanna's for a soft, gentle kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too," the leggy siren reciprocated, clutching
Devon's left hand with her own. "I love you so much."
"Don't think we forgot about you," Devon purred at me,
her smile warm and affectionate, as she closed the distance
between us on her knees and wrapped her free arm around my
neck. She kissed me on the cheek and cooed, "I love you."
"I love both of you," I nodded, giving each Kristanna and
Devon equal glances. "You're my everything in life. I want
to devote my entire existence to the both of you."
"Pamela too!" Kristanna squealed. "Where has that girl
been these past couple of days? Pamela really needs to start
getting involved with all of the fun we have together."
"Pamela told me she still isn't ready to go all-in with
us," Devon offered. "I honestly think she wants Jeremy for
herself. I don't think she wants to be with either of us."
Kristanna scoffed at those words. "There is no way Pamela
gets to have Jeremy all to herself. Jeremy is MINE."
An instant later, Devon grasped my throbbing erection
with her right hand and gently stroked it. Still on her
knees, she then moved beside me and pointed my cock toward
the silken joining of Kristanna's inner thighs. "I want to
help put it in her," Devon reiterated, glowing.
Kristanna spread her long legs even further apart, then
wrapped and secured them around my waist once I moved in
closer toward her. The tight grip remained even as Devon,
still holding my cock, helped insert it into Kristanna's
lush, little pussy. As a result, Kristanna's eyes closed
and her expression became very tense as she let out a moan.
"Hold on a second!" Devon squealed, giggling, now sliding
in directly behind Kristanna. Devon allowed the Norwegian
to sit and lean back against her chest, then used both hands
to eagerly clutch and squeeze her firm, taut breasts. "Fuck
her for me, Jeremy," Devon requested, licking her lips for
emphasis. "Fuck her really good and HARD."
I latched onto Kristanna's hips with both hands and then
began to thrust myself into her. In no time flat, I had
caught a rhythm and was hammering Kristanna's sweet, little
pussy with all the strength and energy my body could muster.
"Oh yesssss..." she growled, her face full of wanton lust,
as she glared up at me. "Fuck me, Jeremy. Fuck me!" Her
breasts were bouncing about wildly as I simply pummeled her.
Of course, the friction created upon my cock as her pussy
clutched it in its own, special way, was indescribable.
What made this coupling even better was that Devon was
here to share it with us. She sat just behind Kristanna on
the mattress, continually mauling her breasts with both
hands while glaring at me with an intense, erotic expression.
"You like this, honey?" she asked, temporarily focusing
her attention upon Kristanna. "Oh yeah... you DO like it.
Yeah, baby... Jeremy is fucking you. Fucking you HARD..."
Kristanna let out a thunderous, booming scream and then
proceeded with a series of short yelps and moans as I
continued with the heavy, non-stop thrusting motion. I was
pounding Kristanna at a furious, unrelenting pace. Her eyes
were wide open, her expression tight, as she glared up at me
in what best could be described as absolute, carnal delight.
"I'm gonna suck all of his cum out of your pussy!" Devon
exclaimed, now gripping Kristanna by the throat with her
right hand. "I may even give you a taste, too!"
Kristanna grunted, nodding her head at those words. Soon,
I could not contain the explosion within myself. I wanted to
blast Kristanna a bit longer, but simply was unable to.
A scream ripped from my throat as my cock erupted like a
volcano deep within the blonde's pussy. At the very same
time, Kristanna experienced a powerful orgasm of her very
own. Both of us growled and wailed out in utter lust as we
rumbled together in a mutual climax, while Devon continued
to coo and cavort in her own, unique way.
"How does all that warm, gooey cum feel inside your
little pussy?" she asked Kristanna, as I whipped my cock out
of her and then moved a few feet away from them upon the bed.
"Want me to suck it out of you?"
Before she could do that, though, I lunged forward and
then pinned both Kristanna and Devon beneath me upon the
bed. As they lay side-by-side, I draped an arm across both
of the ladies and offered a tight squeeze, then traded a
series of hot, passionate kisses with them.
"Hmmmmm... that was great," Kristanna moaned in the sweet
aftermath of her orgasm. "I needed that so much."
"It is always great to be with you and Jeremy," Devon
told Kristanna, giggling. "We will be so happy together!"
* * *
I was, in a word, awestruck while standing at the entrance
to the exercise room, my eyes focused and locked upon Trish.
It was 12:30pm the following afternoon when this 30-year-old
goddess was putting herself through a rigorous physical
workout as she did her thing on the stair-master.
One should easily expect that Trish, who was employed as a
certified fitness instructor in her hometown of Toronto, was
in excellent physical condition. With her lean, muscular
legs and tight, sculpted figure, the knockout blonde looked
every bit the athlete that she most undoubtedly was.
But what caught my attention about Trish the most right
now were her breasts. The large, heavy-set globes seemed to
fill out her red aerobic top in the most mouth-watering of
fashions. The way they bounced and jiggled about as she
worked those luscious legs and hips on the stair-master
machine was enough to give me a hard, bulging erection.
Since Trish was perspiring somewhat, the damp top clung to
her breasts, and thus, the outline of her plump nipples were
clearly visible underneath the thin fabric.
Moments ago, Kristanna suggested that if I wanted to find
Trish, the best place to look would be the exercise room.
It was the most logical place to find her. My sole intention
in seeking out and finding Trish was very simple - I wanted
to check up on her, and see how she was doing. After all,
Trish was still head-over-heels in love with Lindsay.
Unfortunately, those feelings did not work both ways.
I also had plans of asking Trish if she would like to
watch the final and decisive game of the Stanley Cup Finals
between the Chicago Blackhawks and Boston Bruins with me
later tonight. The game and series itself ended this past
Monday, but I had yet to sit down and watch its conclusion
with her. Trish, of course, absolutely loved professional
hockey and had spent the past three weeks educating me on
the sport as best she could. With the power of DVR, we
could watch the game as it happened in its entirety.
As I stood at the entrance to the exercise room, however,
game six of the Stanley Cup Finals was the absolute, furthest
thing from my mind. I was too busy enjoying the scenery.
Trish was oblivious to my presence, but that did not stop
me from leaning against the doorway and letting out a gentle,
content sigh. Trish was so incredibly gorgeous. I wondered
to myself how Lindsay, despite her young age and lack of
desire, did not want to commit to a relationship with Trish.
How could any sane person - male or female - deny this woman?
If it was not for Kristanna, Devon and Pamela, I believe
that it is safe of me to assume that Trish would be the one
that I was pursuing the most. If Trish had showed as much
interest in me as I did for her from the very outset,
however, my life and future outlook could very well be
completely different now. Alas, Trish only had eyes for
Lindsay during her early days on the island.
Excluding her physical appearance, the Canadian was still
a beautiful woman. She was incredibly thoughtful and loving,
and very friendly. In many ways, Trish seemed like the ideal
woman. Trish was a total sweetheart whose happy, outgoing
nature could endear her to almost anyone. Trish was the type
of person that others seemed to simply gravitate toward.
I was lost in my thoughts for a moment, but was jarred
back to reality as Trish flashed me that winning smile of
hers. "Hi Jeremy," she greeted, noticing me and stepping
off the machine. "How long have you been standing there?"
"A couple of minutes," I responded, eyeing her awesome
figure from head to toe. "Just enjoying the view." Trish
giggled at my words as I added, "How is everything?"
"All of a sudden, things are so jumbled up around here,"
the voluptuous vixen responded, sighing. "Now, it seems,
Camille wants to be room-mates with Lindsay. Pamela and Amy
are back together, sharing a suite of their own. With you,
Kristanna and Devon together, Jeremy, I guess that means I am
left out in the cold. No room-mate for me, eh?"
After taking a seat on a nearby weight bench, I patted my
lap with an open hand, and then Trish smiled as she moved up
and settled down across it. I grinned at her again as she
hooked her slender arms around my neck, while I slipped mine
around her lower back. She felt so wonderful upon my lap.
"Much more comfortable now," Trish smirked, her pretty
brown eyes sparkling as she gazed back at me.
"There is absolutely no need for you to be alone, Trish,"
were my words. "I have told you time and time again that you
are more than welcome to spend the evening in my room. I can
guarantee you that Kristanna and Devon would both welcome you
with open arms. And, it could be strictly platonic. You
know that I would never force anything on you, or expect
anything from you, in exchange for staying the night."
"I know that, Jeremy. Trust me, I do."
"I enjoy whatever opportunity I get to learn more about
you as a person," I offered, before chuckling ever-so-softly.
"And, I would have never guessed in a million years that your
favorite movie of all-time is _Rocky_. That kind of threw me
for a loop when you told me the other day, Trish. A woman
who is so sweet and incredibly kind such as yourself... you
seem to be the _Titanic_ type. You know, the tragic love
story type. I'd never believe that you would have chosen a
boxing movie as your favorite."
"_Rocky_ was a love story too, you know," Trish reminded
me. "It was not just all about boxing." Trish shrugged her
shoulders and frowned, "But all I have to do is look at my
own life if I want to witness a tragic love story. Before
Lindsay, it was Melina. Melina was my girlfriend for a long
time back in Toronto, but we had a terrible break-up and I
consider a lot of what happened between us to be my very own
fault. She and I were in love. We lived together and were,
at one time, talking about a life-long commitment."
"Then, along came Lindsay," Trish continued. "I allowed
all of my feelings and emotions for that girl to overcome me
all at once, and I was swept away with her like a tidal wave.
Lindsay was my ultimate fantasy come to life. She still is.
It just... I now wish that I wasn't there to help you take
her virginity, Jeremy. There was no coming back for me after
that point. I was so much in love, so taken, with her. I...
I sometimes wonder if I will ever find happiness."
I shook my head and frowned momentarily. "I just do not
understand, Miss Trish. I do not understand why someone did
not scoop you up long ago, and marry you. You seem to have
nothing holding you back in life. You are not stuck in a
terrible job like Pamela. Unlike Devon, you get along great
with your family. You do not have _issues_ like Amy does.
You are not narrow-minded like Camille. You are smart,
gorgeous, witty, kind... very loving, and very devoted. You
are so full of energy, zest... life. You're so... peppy.
Seems to me that someone would have latched onto you long
ago, and never let go. I just... I don't know, Trish."
The 30-year-old turned her gaze away from me for a brief
moment and pouted. "My biggest problem when it comes to
relationships and dating is that I become way too possessive.
As you have surely noticed by now, Jeremy, I am the obsessive
type. I mean, VERY obsessive. People do not like that. You
can look at how I treated Lindsay when she and I were still
together. I hounded her constantly. I would not allow her
out of my sight. That is my biggest problem."
"Some people could deal with a person like that better
than others," I mused. "I have those possessive qualities
too, dear. I want to be with Kristanna, Devon and Pamela
all of the time now. But, I know I have to fight it. I
know that each of them need their proper space from me."
"That is the difference between you and me," Trish pouted.
"See, I cannot fight it. When I am in love with someone, I
cannot control myself. I want to totally monopolize their
every waking second of every day. When Melina was at work,
I'd text her every 20 minutes. It's just the way I am.
It is also the reason why I have yet to settle down. I have
yet to find someone who can deal with that about me."
"I can think of worse people than you, Trish, to want to
monopolize my time," I told her, shrugging my shoulders.
"Take that as a compliment because that was how it was
intended. I do not think I would mind someone wanting to
monopolize my time, though... provided I was in love with
them as well. It would give me the green light, so to speak,
to monopolize their time in return."
I smiled at Trish. "As I told you earlier, I have to
fight those urges from time to time. Otherwise, I would be
with Kristanna and Devon a whole lot more often than I
already am. The same for Pamela, though she has been keeping
a good distance from me lately. I think Pamela is still
sorting out her feelings and emotions, and what she ultimately
wants in her life." I shrugged my shoulders again and added,
"I have spent a lot of time with Kristanna and Devon lately,
you know, but now I am letting them have a little time away
from me. A little space never hurt anyone. In fact, I have
been with Kristanna A LOT as of late. But, you know... that
sort of happens when you first get engaged."
"I do not think either of them would mind if you wanted to
monopolize their time," Trish commented, grinning. "Devon is
crazy about you. Kristanna thinks the world of you. I could
tell that from the very first day that she was here with us.
That is why I always said that you and Kristanna would make a
really neat couple. I knew that Kristanna would treat you
the way that you need to be treated, Jeremy. Then, Devon and
Kristanna are nuts about each other as well. I believe the
three of you are going to have a very long and a very healthy
life together. Certainly, that is what I am hoping for."
"Thank you, Trish," I smiled, gently kissing the side of
her head. "You are such a sweetheart."
Trish glanced downward for an instant, then grinned and
restored eye contact with me. "This island is an incredible
atmosphere. I never thought a place like this would exist."
"What do you mean?"
Trish shrugged her shoulders. "I mean... look at US. You
are openly talking about a life-long commitment with both
Kristanna and Devon. The three of you are totally wild and
crazy about each other. And you are hoping, beyond hope,
that Pamela wants in too. Yet, here you are, Jeremy, sitting
all alone with me. My arms around you... your arms around
me. I am sitting in your lap, even! Yet... this feels so
natural. I am not one bit worried or concerned that Krissy
or Devon would think anything bad about what you and I are
doing right now. Plus, I do not believe that I am doing
anything wrong by being so snug and close with a man who is
taken. Why... I believe Kristanna and Devon approve of you
being with the others. Only on this island, I guess. You
know, I could really get used to this relaxed lifestyle..."
"I am glad you like it here, dear."
"How do you look at me, Jeremy? In what way?"
I smiled at Trish. "I consider you a very good friend.
I have enjoyed talking with you since you first came to the
island four weeks ago. You are so incredibly nice, Trish...
so easy to talk to. I feel like I can tell you anything."
I laughed and admitted, "You're a cool chick. That's how I
honestly look at you. I've always looked at you that way.
You're a cool chick. You're so easy to be with."
She smiled at me as well. "I get along so good with you,
Jeremy, because you are so down-to-earth and honest. That
is the most important trait anyone in this world can have,
if you ask me... honesty. You have really hid nothing about
yourself, your feelings, even your past... from us. I still
recall that story you told me about that girl in your high
school years whom you were so very attracted to."
"April?"
Trish nodded. "Yes, April. The one who, despite being
your friend, refused to go out with you on a date because
you would have _depressed_ her. That is about as honest and
as straightforward as anyone can possibly be. Most people
would never admit something like that. Yet, you just came
right out and told me all about it. That conversation we
had, Jeremy... it really made me look at you in a new light."
"Oh? How so?"
Trish hesitated before answering, "Like perhaps I should
have fallen in love with you instead of Lindsay from the very
beginning." My eyes nearly exploded at those words as Trish
quickly added, "Oh... I know that you would have eventually
chose Kristanna and Devon as your partners in life. No
matter what I could have done or tried, it was your destiny
to wind up with Kristanna and Devon. Especially Kristanna.
You and her are meant to be together. It's just... I don't
know, Jeremy. I really don't." Trish closed her eyes and
fretted, "Oh... I shouldn't have said that!"
"It's okay," I assured her. "It is perfectly fine."
"I do not want to give the impression that I am trying to
interfere in your relationship with Kristanna and Devon!"
Trish squealed, obviously upset with herself. "Not even in
the smallest way possible! I shouldn't have said anything!"
"It's okay," I reiterated, attempting to soothe Trish's
emotions. "It's okay, sweetheart. Honesty... remember? You
were being honest with me. I appreciate honesty too. I have
no problem with anyone who is honest with me."
"You sure? I mean, I do not want you to think..."
"It's okay," I insisted, cutting her off. "Excluding the
three of us, of course, YOU are the happiest person on the
island that Kristanna, Devon and I are together. I know you
meant nothing bad with what you just said to me, Trish. If
Kristanna and Devon were here right now, I guarantee you that
both of them would tell you the same, exact thing. Nothing
of what you just said to me was wrong. Nothing at all. We
know that you would never do anything to come between us.
It's not your nature. You're not that type of person."
Finally relieved, Trish shook her head and even giggled.
"As I said, Jeremy... the atmosphere here is incredible. You
are so wondrously committed, and so loyal, to Kristanna and
Devon. I know that you would never do a thing to harm them
in any way. Yet you do not mind another woman saying stuff
like that to you. They would not mind, either. In some
ways, it is like all of us are a big, extended family. I am
NOT looking forward to going home in just over two weeks."
"Kristanna has absolutely no problem with you, Trish,"
I stressed. "Neither does Devon. Both of them look at you
as a close, trustworthy friend. Above that, both of them
know that you would never do anything to jeopardize our
relationship. In my book, at least, there is no crime in
being honest. Tell me whatever you want, dear. It's okay."
Trish smiled. "I like being honest."
* * *
I had a lot on my plate, so to speak, at the moment.
Not only did I have the euphoria of my impending nuptials
with Kristanna, as well as Devon finding her own niche in the
relationship as best she could, but there now seemed to be
some doubt as to whether or not Pamela wanted to be part of
our future. Truth be told, I had kept my distance from
Pamela in the past three days. Again, I was giving her the
opportunity to sort through her emotions and feelings. Was
the idea of a four-way union something that appealed to her?
I ultimately wanted Pamela to come to her own conclusion.
Pamela made it abundantly clear early on that she wanted a
one-on-one relationship with me. She flat-out told me so on
just her second day here on the island. It may have been a
possibility then, but it certainly was not a possibility now.
The question was whether or not she was willing to accept that,
and embrace the idea of what may become a group marriage.
I was not about to jeopardize what I had with Kristanna for
no one. I desperately wanted Pamela in our lives for the long
haul. I wanted to make her happy and give her everything
that she had ever dreamed of. But I had prepared myself to
let Pamela go. I did not want to, but would let her go if
necessary. Kristanna was and forever will be my focal point,
so everything had to fall in line and adapt around her.
Unfortunately, I got the overwhelming sense from Pamela
that she did not want to have any sort of a romantic or
long-term commitment with Kristanna and/or Devon. My goal
was to prove to Pamela that she did indeed belong with us,
and no one could ever make her any happier than we could.
I knew that Kristanna would be more than willing to allow
Pamela into our lives, just as she did for Devon.
Also, I just now learned that Trish was having second
thoughts and was wishing that she pursued me from the very
beginning instead of Lindsay. What a cruel irony; before
Kristanna became front and center for me, there were times
that I would sit and pout because Trish was not giving me
the time of day. Her entire being was devoted to Lindsay,
and there was no room for anyone else. At several points
in the early days, I myself was wishing that Trish put all
of her focus and energy into me instead of Lindsay.
Oftentimes I would speculate that if Trish went after me
as hard as Devon and Pamela did from the very beginning,
would she have vaulted ahead of both of them in my book? I
think the possibility was there. There was no doubt that I
felt that strong of an attraction toward Trish.
But now? Too little, too late, unfortunately. The bond
I had with Devon was becoming stronger with every passing
second. She was now so far ahead of Trish in that regard
that the Canadian, despite her beauty and how awesome of a
person I thought she was, could never catch up and surpass
Devon. Perhaps I would always be left to wonder _what if_.
The other major issue I was dealing with at the current
time was that of Amy. She and I had a rather enlightening
conversation two days ago where a lot of my prior suspicions
about her were confirmed. Amy had not led the best of lives
up to this point, and had a lot of problems as a result.
She grew up as an only child and felt that her parents
never really wanted her in the first place. She nearly
flunked the tenth grade, focusing her attention on boys (and
some girls) instead of schoolwork. As an adult, Amy once
had a boyfriend who routinely _rented her out_ to others for
a monetary fee. Later on, Amy was in a marriage that was
doomed from the start. Her ex-husband looked at her as a
trophy much more than he did as a loving companion. It did
not help that she felt the need to cheat on him multiple
times with a wide variety of other people, some of whom had
even been strangers. It led to a shattered marriage that
ended in divorce. Nowadays, Amy made her living as a
_Hooters_ waitress, and really struggled to get by and make
ends meet. One could easily claim that working at _Hooters_
was one step away from being a stripper, but for a fraction
of the salary. What type of life was this for anyone to have?
In all honesty, Amy felt horribly depressed and lonely.
She was socially unstable, not knowing how to talk or present
herself to others in a positive light. In less than a month
on the island, she had already alienated herself from some of
her counterparts. Trish wanted nothing to do with her. I
got the sense that Devon simply tolerated her. Kristanna had
an interest in Amy, but only because she knew how I much I
cared about her. The island was a microcosm of Amy's life.
But Amy had that gorgeous face and killer body. In ways,
it had been her saving grace. People gravitated toward her
because she was so beautiful. There would always be someone
who wanted to make that initial contact with her.
In other ways, however, her body had been her downfall.
Yes, the way Amy looked attracted a lot of attention. But I
felt that her social skills, or lack thereof, had driven a
lot of potential suitors away. Or, they simply stuck around
long enough to get a _piece_ of Amy without ever taking her
seriously as a person. They would use her for sex, but then
discard her like a piece of garbage when the thrill was gone.
"I've been put down so many times in life," she told me
two days ago during our conversation in the forest. "People
put you down enough, and eventually, you start to believe it."
Amy's calling card in life was her body, and she had used
it over the years to try and make others happy. There was no
doubt that the woman loved sex and everything about it, but
she had yet to find a man (or woman) who would not only give
her what she needed physically, but emotionally as well.
I still hold firm to the belief that the 31-year-old was
like a timid, little child, who just needed to crawl into her
protector's arms and feel forever loved and cherished. She
was the picture-perfect submissive. Amy openly admitted to
me that she needed the right person - preferably a man - to
step in and seize total control of her as a human being.
That would be the only thing that could truly make her happy.
I felt that a major step, at least initially, toward
improving Amy's life would be for her to visit a psychiatrist
and get a mental health diagnosis, then be put on the proper
medication. I knew a couple of very good doctors over on the
mainland in Peru who could work absolute wonders for her if
she would just allow them the opportunity. As I told Amy in
the past, I would have been more than happy to set up an
appointment and pay any of the associated costs for the
visit(s) and subsequent medication. I was worried for her.
I just wanted Amy to feel better, and be happy.
But, Amy was not interested. She did not believe in the
idea of seeing a psychiatrist or taking pills. I tried to
tell her that anti-depressants had helped improve the quality
of my own life over the past couple of years. I initially
resisted the thought as well, but now wish I had sought help
much earlier in life. Without the medication, I may not even
be here today. I went round and round on this subject with
Amy several times. I insisted that she at least give the idea
of seeing a doctor a try. But, Amy would not budge. She was
quite stubborn, but I had an idea that may change her mind...
* * *
Earlier at breakfast - before my discussion with Trish in
the exercise room - I found the tank-top that Amy chose to
wear as part of her attire to be quite comical. It was
bright pink, and the fabric was stretched to its limit to
conceal her massive, bulging 36d-cup breasts. The tank-top
had an inscription on it which read in big yellow letters,
_I have the pussy, I make the rules!_. It was cute and
funny, and elicited a laugh, but what I found most amusing
was how very wrong it would prove to be just hours later.
It was still raining pretty heavily outside, so I figured
all of the ladies did not have any special plans for the
day. Once everyone began to disperse after our breakfast
meal ended, I pulled Amy to the side and asked for a moment
of her time. I wanted to talk to her, but did not want to
have a two-way discussion. It was going to be one-sided.
I really did not offer her much of a choice. I told Amy
that I wanted her come to my private quarters in the mansion
at precisely 2:00pm this afternoon. I instructed her to
wear something sexy but not too revealing or provocative,
and that she should expect to spend several hours with me.
And, that was it. I was firm and direct with her, to
the point and, most importantly, I did not wait for a
response. I simply told Amy what I wanted, and walked off.
The bewildered look upon her face to what was basically a
no-nonsense demand was, in a word, priceless.
"You, of all people... I cannot wait to see if you can
pull this off," Kristanna said to me an hour later, when I
clued her in and informed her of what I had in mind for Amy.
"There is no way you'll be able to go through with this and
get Amy to agree to what you ultimately want. It's not you,
Jeremy. It's not you. You'll crack. There's no way..."
I was not quite certain that I could pull this off myself,
but I was going to give it my best try.
* * *
Eyeing my wristwatch intently, it was 2:01pm when a gentle
knock came to the main entrance of my personal suite. I
downed the last of my orange juice, then went over to the door
and opened it only to be greeted with the sight of a truly
gorgeous, breathtaking creature of a woman.
Dressed in a button-down white blouse made of denim with
two front pockets, it was readily apparent that Amy was not
wearing a bra underneath it. Her lush nipples were clearly
outlined through the ultra-thin top as her heavy-set breasts
swelled against it. She had the sleeves rolled up and the
blouse was knotted together at her midriff, offering quite
a sexy, flirtatious flare and appeal.
Amy also had on a black leather miniskirt which had a
zipper on the side and was held together in front by a single
button. The skirt was short and flimsy, naturally, and I
would bet my entire fortune that she did not have any panties
on underneath it. Her outfit was topped off with a pair of
expensive black pumps which had five inches on each heel.
Amy's thick-bodied, voluptuous figure had a look, or an
aura, about itself. From the very first day I met Amy, I
got the feeling that her body was constantly begging others
to use it. Try as I might, it was difficult _not_ to look
at her that way. Now, I was finally admitting it to myself.
"You're a minute late," I told her, my voice quite harsh
and strict. I had never used such a tone with her before.
Amy offered me a quizzical expression as I explained, "I
told you to be here at two o'clock sharp. It's 2:01."
"It's two by my watch," she volunteered, totally caught
off-guard. Today was going to be quite memorable, indeed.
I planned on today being the turning point in Amy's life.
"Inside," I instructed her, moving back and allowing Amy
entrance into my private quarters. As she walked by, I
reached out with my right hand and slapped that lush, round
ass of hers. Amy hesitated for a moment and looked at me,
but then smiled gleefully and continued into the suite.
I closed and locked the door, then turned toward Amy and
proclaimed, "Why don't you get down on your knees for me?"
Her green eyes wide, Amy appeared somewhat stunned at my
newfound, forceful attitude. "Get down... on... my knees?"
"Do you have a problem with what I tell you to do?" I
retorted, a definite hint of anger and dissatisfaction in
my voice. "When I tell you to do something, I expect it to
be done. Now get down on your knees like a good slave."
Those eyes were now wide as saucers. Obviously unaware
of what I had planned, Amy looked to either side for a brief
moment and then dropped to her knees. As if on impulse, she
then went into submissive mode by linking both hands together
behind her back. Amy thrusted her breasts outward in a proud
manner, but still had those big eyes as she looked up at me.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked, her voice timid.
I walked around to the backside of Amy and lifted the hem
of her black skirt. Indeed, she was not wearing any panties.
That figured. Amy did not have a bra on underneath her top,
either. "You don't like wearing a bra or panties, huh?"
"You already know I don't," Amy returned, her hands still
linked together at the small of her back.
"You enjoy it when others look at you... don't you?"
She nodded her head. "Yes, I do."
With my left hand, I reached into my shorts and fished out
a full-blown, raging erection. Kristanna and Devon, both of
whom were now watching us in the adjacent voyeur room, had
taken turns sucking my cock prior to Amy's arrival. I wanted
it to be hard and ready for when she got here. I presented my
erection to her appreciative face, and she smiled.
"Is that for me?"
"Not yet," I returned, tucking my shaft back into my
shorts. Now hid from her view, Amy was clearly disappointed
and even a bit frustrated. She looked up at me and offered
a little pout; her lower lip was sticking outward in a manner
that I actually found to be quite sexy, and highly erotic.
"You're a submissive. Aren't you, Amy?"
"Yes," she replied, her gaze quickly lowered.
"What are you a submissive for? What makes you happier
than anything else in the whole, wide world?"
"Big, hard cocks."
"Why do you still have your clothes on?" I asked her, my
tone incessant as I took a step back.
"You didn't tell me to take them off..."
"WHY do you STILL have your clothes on?" I repeated.
"I'm sorry, Jeremy," Amy countered, her hands fumbling
with the buttons on her blouse. The 31-year-old quickly
settled down, however, and began to slowly undo each button
while glaring up at me with all sorts of emotions across her
face. She clearly did not know what to think. After ten
seconds, Amy had managed just two buttons.
I quickly moved behind her, then grabbed either side of
the blouse and began to rip and tear at the expensive fabric
with what best could be described as violent force. "When
I tell you to do something, I don't want to wait all day for
it to be done!" I snapped, as Amy squealed and grunted in
response, her body jerking back-and-forth with each pull.
With every button popped out and scattered across the
floor, the rest of the blouse was in shreds when I finally
tore it from her body. Unprepared for my aggression, Amy
then let out a shrill cry as I reached down and pulled open
the zipper across her miniskirt. I popped the button on it
as well, but Amy did the rest as she quickly slipped the
skirt downward and eventually off. She remained on her knees
and placed both hands together behind her back yet again.
"Next time," I told her, "you will have until a count of
five when I tell you to do something." Amy shrieked at my
words as I added, "It will not be a slow five, either."
The red-headed enchantress was already a mess because of
what I was in the process of doing to her. Ripping off her
top the way I did was the turning point. Her breathing
quite ragged and labored, she continued to look up at me
with those puppy-dog eyes. In turn, I admired her nude,
beautiful figure. I had many plans for it today.
"You have the body of a submissive. I can hear it, Amy.
It's talking to me right now." I hesitated briefly, then
did an imitation, "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."
Amy was fidgeting about upon her knees. She had _never_
heard me speak this way to her. Nor had anyone else.
"You've already made me very unhappy two times, and you
have barely been here for three minutes," I announced. "You
took so much time with your blouse that you must have thought
you were a stripper giving me a stage show." Amy gulped her
throat as I continued, "And before that, you were late. I
told you earlier to be here at two o'clock."
"I was a minute late, if even that!" Amy defended herself.
Dominants had many ways of dealing with mouthy submissives.
In a move that I had planned well beforehand, I shook my
head at Amy and lifted my right leg. I reached down and
pulled off the sock that covered my calf and foot. It was
just a regular, ordinary, run-of-the-mill sock. But I balled
it up real nice and tight with both hands, only to jam it into
Amy's mouth. Now, those eyes of hers were set to explode.
"I see that you want to act all bratty and whiny." Amy's
ruby-red lips were stretched wide, with nearly three-quarters
of the sock stuffed into her succulent mouth. She growled
upon her impromptu gag as I stood in front of her, now using
a pair of scissors to cut off a healthy piece of masking tape
from a roll. "I don't like mouthy submissives, Amy. This
ought to shut you up for awhile." I placed the strip of tape
across the lower portion of her face, effectively covering
her mouth and securing the sock in place.
"I was going to let you suck my cock, but now I'm not
quite so sure you even deserve it."
Amy roared upon her gag and shook her head in protest,
her body wildly bucking and churning about. That was all I
needed to see. Amy was responding to what I did to her.
After how I had treated her thus far, she desperately wanted
to perform oral sex on me. Indeed, this woman was a pure
submissive. Not only that, but Amy was a submissive who
needed someone to seize control of her life and make all of
the decisions for her. She needed to be protected, yes, but
also disciplined when necessary.
"I'm going to give you a spanking for being bad, Amy."
"Hmmmph," was the only word she could muster, still on her
knees with both hands linked together behind her back, her
bare breasts heaving up-and-down and jiggling about somewhat.
This would definitely not be the first time that Amy had been
spanked in her life, but those eyes were wide and looming
nonetheless as they shifted toward my hands.
"Stand up." Amy was on her feet a mere heartbeat later.
"Good girl." I nodded my head in approval at her, but then
reached somewhere behind me and produced a pair of handcuffs
made of pure velcro, and linked together by a metal chain.
Amy yelped and squealed when I grabbed her right forearm
and pulled it into position behind her back again. I fastened
the velcro restraint around her wrist and made sure it was
tight (but not too tight), then did the same for her left arm
and wrist. The reactions from her were still favorable; Amy
was grunting and moaning, her luscious body obviously flowing
with sexual heat and electricity.
"Hmmmph!" Amy managed after I sat down on a nearby stool
and then pulled her across my lap. I centered that amazing
ass of hers across my left thigh. A little shift of my left
knee and a push of my hand later, and Amy's right leg was now
suddenly imprisoned in the vise of mine, leaving her left to
dangle and move about freely off my lap.
"You're going to learn to be more prompt from now on," I
advised her. "You're going to learn to do things faster when
I give you a task to do." I placed a finger between the folds
of her labia. Amy was already soaking wet. "Most of all, you
will learn that you do not - ever - talk back to me."
Amy tilted her head back and closed her eyes as I inserted
a second finger into her pussy, then a third. I began to
move them about and do a little exploration, but had to
quickly remind myself just why she was gagged, handcuffed and
sprawled across my lap to begin with. Even if I wanted to, I
could not deviate from the script I had in mind.
I hooked my left arm over the small of her back, my hand
curling underneath and resting near her belly button. Using
that arm to steady and hold her in place, my opposite hand
began to swat and pepper her backside accordingly. Yes, I
was spanking Amy. And yes, I was getting a reaction.
With each resounding smack of flesh meeting flesh, I
trailed my hand down her thigh and then back up, my thumb
extended and coming into contact with her exposed labia.
Again, I had this all planned and mapped out beforehand.
Right cheek, left cheek. Right cheek, left cheek. I could
feel the heat on the palm of my hand as it pelted her.
Right, left... _smack_! I tightened the grip of my left
arm underneath her stomach as she began to buck and swing
her free leg about. Amy's backside was already starting to
turn a light shade of pink, but I knew it would be dark red
before too long. I gave her a short reprieve, now leisurely
rubbing my hand over and across the vulnerable flesh. Once
again, I inserted three fingers into her pussy and explored.
I could not believe how incredibly wet she was.
"You better not cum," I warned her. Amy growled and cried,
albeit incoherently, as I added, "If you cum, I will punish
you even more. You're not allowed to cum until I say so."
Now, allow me to clarify something here. I was _not_ being
overly strenuous or too physically harsh with Amy. In fact,
compared to some of the things that I had watched Amy do to
Lindsay in the recent past, this spanking that I administered
was quite tame. I could _never_ hurt another human being -
especially a woman - or cause them any amount of undue pain.
Unlike Lindsay, Amy was not a submissive who got off on
pain. Nor was she the type of submissive who needed someone
to exert their physical prowess over her, and nearly crush her
into oblivion during a sexual (or disciplinary) encounter.
What appealed to me here was that Amy wanted a dominant
presence to seize control of her mind, and make it their own.
This spanking I was giving her right now? The ferocity of it
did not have to rank as an 11 on a scale of one to ten for me
to accomplish what I wanted. It could be a cool and timid
three, and obviously, it was more than powerful enough.
Just look at Amy now. She was a disheveled mess. Totally
nude across my lap. My sock jammed in her mouth with a piece
of masking tape over top of it. Her wrists bound behind her
back with velcro handcuffs. Her bare bottom a darkening
shade of pink. And her pussy literally oozing with desire.
The spanking was not harsh or severe. But with it, I had
invaded Amy's mind and was staking a serious claim to it.
That was the key part. It was my objective. How much more
submissive could a woman truly be than what Amy was right
now? Gagged, bound and sprawled across my lap, Amy's ass was
perched skyward and all of her secrets on display for me.
The physical discipline may have been timid and light, but
the _mind fuck_ that accompanied it was anything but.
I began to spank her harder. Not too much, though; I
ramped the voltage from three to four on that scale of one
to ten. Still light, but I would not go any higher than
this. The response I received? Again, very favorable.
"Perhaps I need to teach you a lesson about respect," I
announced, sensing that the sting upon her ass may now have
turned into a smoldering fire. I offered it five swats in
quick, rapid-fire succession, each landing upon a different
area. I wanted her to eventually feel nothing but the hot,
wounded throb of her backside under my supervision.
Amy gasped and sighed deeply when I yanked the strip of
masking tape from her face, then removed the sock from her
mouth. She turned her head and looked up at me, her eyes
now watershed and her mascara completely ruined. "Oh God,
Jeremy!" was her immediate response, now able to speak and
be heard. "OH MY GOD... what are you doing to me?"
That voice was not that of a dominant woman who enjoyed
whipping and beating others (namely, Lindsay). Nor was it
the voice of an hyper, aloof woman who made it a habit to
alienate herself from people - even those who tried to be her
friend. And it certainly was not the voice of a woman who
routinely slept around with others like it was no big deal,
and took a great deal of pride in the process of doing so.
In fact, it was not the voice of a woman at all.
At this particular moment in time, Amy sounded like a
lost, little girl. She needed guidance, direction... a
purpose in life. Amy needed someone to sweep her off of
her feet and protect her, and take control. Perhaps her
true identity had finally come to the forefront after all?
I withdrew my hand from upon the surface of her ass,
only to then have it come crashing down upon her pussy.
I slapped her pussy a second time, then a third. Amy's
entire body rumbled about beneath me as she looked away,
hiding her face and the tears which saturated it.
"What are you, dear?" I rested my hand across her lush
backside again, and placed two fingers between the folds
of her pussy. I sensed a four-alarm fire. "What are you?"
I again insisted. "Come on, tell me. What are you?"
"A... sl-sl-slut?" Amy was a wreck right now. She was
a massive train wreck. "I... I d-don't know..."
"No," I told her, defiant. "You're not a slut. I NEVER
want to hear you call yourself that again. Do I make myself
clear?" Amy nodded her head as I pressed on, "You're much
better than that. Come on, what are you? THINK! What are
you to me from this point forward?"
"Your... submissive?"
"Get up."
When I released her from my clutches, Amy scrambled to
obey. I grabbed the back of her neck and marched her toward
the far wall. Her high-heeled feet nearly tripped on her
puddled clothing in the process. I guided Amy toward the
corner, and put her face there. I added a little yank of
the hair for some emphasis.
"That's right," I proclaimed. "You are my submissive from
now until you leave this island. You may even remain my
submissive while we are thousands of miles apart." Amy let
out another cry and gulped her throat as I then instructed,
"Stay here. Do not leave this corner until I tell you to."
I undid the velcro straps which had previously bound her
wrists. Then, I moved my lips close to her left ear and
ordered, "Hands on the wall!"
I left Amy standing there, her bottom ablaze and now on
bright red display. I went over to my desk and sat down,
then starting scribbling onto a sheet of paper. Amy's legs
must have felt like they were made of spaghetti. She
wobbled and teetered in the corner, her hands firmly upon
the wall. The young woman turned her face just enough so
she could peer back at me from the corner of one eye. The
sounds that she made - the sighs, the whimpers, the quick,
short breaths - were absolute music to my ears!
A moment later, I arose from my desk and returned to her.
Amy even trembled as I approached her.
"Would you like to cum now?"
"GOD, YES!" she cried in response.
"Do it," I demanded, slipping my left arm around her
midriff and pulling her back hard against my front. I
reached down with my right hand and began to pump four
fingers in-and-out of her nether regions at warp speed. Amy
did not need any further coaxing. She was already at the
precipice of orgasm, and quickly toppled over the ledge.
"OH GOD!" she roared, leaning over and jutting her ass
upon my crotch. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I'M CUMMING! I'M
CUMMING!" The juices were definitely flowing as I now
stroked her pussy with an open hand and rubbed her clitoris
with my thumb. Amy ground her ass upon my pelvis for a good
15 seconds, obviously enjoying the feel of my rock-solid
erection and the thought of what it may to do her later.
Her face was even more of a catastrophe now.
"What's gotten into you, Jeremy?" Amy whined in the sweet
aftermath, looking back at me through tear-stained eyes.
Much to her credit, Amy's hands had not moved. They were
still firmly entrenched upon the wall. She was proving to be
quite obedient, and ripe for training. "I... I never would
have dreamed you were capable of treating me this way!"
I smiled at her. "Do you like it?"
Amy gasped and assured me, "Yes, I love it!"
"Do you want to be my submissive for the rest of your stay
on the island? Maybe even beyond the island, once you go
back to Ohio?" She nodded her head wildly at me as I asked,
"Is this something that you and I should explore together?"
"Yes..." she squealed.
"Your days of domination are over," I informed her. "You
will no longer treat Lindsay - or anyone else on the island,
for that matter - like your personal whipping post." Amy
again nodded her head as I continued, "You are going to be
submissive - MY submissive - and you are you going to be nice
and polite toward everyone here from now on. You're not
going to try and shock others with your words, or say
something totally wild and outlandish, like you seem to do
on occasion. Can we agree on that, Amy?" I placed my hand
upon that smoldering ass and insisted, "Can we?"
"Y-Yes."
"Are you willing to do EVERYTHING that I tell you from
this point forward? Do you REALLY want to be a submissive
for me? If so, I will NOT take _no_ for an answer... for
ANYTHING. Do you want me to take total control of you?"
"Yes!" Amy was starting to become quite emotional again.
"GOD YES! I'll do anything and everything that you tell me
to! I swear! I'll do anything you tell me!"
I smiled inwardly, wondering to myself what Kristanna and
Devon were thinking right now. They were just a few feet
away from us, but Amy was oblivious to their presence because
both had stashed themselves away in the voyeur room. My
fiancee claimed that I could never successfully follow
through on this plan of mine with Amy. I proved her wrong.
Hell, I had even proved myself wrong!
Oh... that piece of paper I scribbled on moments ago at
the desk? I retrieved it from my pocket and presented it,
all nice and folded up, to Amy. Her hands still on the wall,
she lifted two fingers and I slipped the note between them.
"I took the liberty, Amy, of making an appointment for you
at a renowned psychiatrist friend of mine on the mainland
over in Peru for tomorrow at noon. On that note is his name
and where the office is located." Amy simply stared at the
piece of paper as I continued, "I will accompany you there.
You will see the doctor, you will answer all of his questions
fully and completely, and he will give you a diagnosis. And,
he will most likely provide you with some sort of medication
which you will take every day until told otherwise."
Amy's eyes darted from the paper to me, again the paper,
and then back to me. She closed her mouth and clenched it
tight, then let out a content sigh.
"Now are you going with me to the psychiatrist so he can
diagnose you and give you the proper care and treatment?
Are you going to be open and forthright with him? Are you
going to tell him all of your thoughts and problems? And
are you willing to take the medicine that he prescribes for
you every day, even perhaps for the rest of your life?"
"Yes, Master..."
<<<- End of Chapter 25 ->>>
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"Island Fever"
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